《New Vegas: Sheason's Story》


 Chapter 1: Prologue: Welcome to Goodsprings

    Chapter 1: Prologue: Wee to Goodsprings


    <strong>New Vegas</strong>


    <strong>Prologue</strong>


    <em>War. War never changes.</em>


    <em>The end of the world urred much as we had predicted. In the 21st century, war was waged over the resources that could be acquired. Only this time, the spoils of war were also its weapons: petroleum and uranium. The details are trivial and pointless; the reasons, as always, purely human ones.</em>


    <em>In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. In two brief hours, most of the was reduced to cinders, and the Earth was nearly wiped clean of human life. A great cleansing, an atomic spark struck by human hands quickly raged out of control. Spears of nuclear fire rained from the skies. Continents were swallowed in mes and fell beneath the boiling oceans. Humanity was almost extinguished, their spirits bing part of the background radiation that nketed the earth.</em>


    <em>A quiet darkness fell across the,sting many years.</em>


    <em>But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter in human history. For while man had seeded in destroying the old world, the spark of humanity is stubborn, and not so easily snuffed out,</em>


    <em>In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters, known as vaults. When the doors opened, their inhabitants had only the hell of the wastes to greet them. They set out across the ruins of the old world to build new societies, establishing viges, and forming tribes.</em>


    <em>As the decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the g of the New California Republic, dedicated to old world values of democracy, and the rule ofw. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city  New Vegas  untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River. The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to upy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition.</em>


    <em>But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different g. A vast army of ves, forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar''s Legion.</em>


    <em>Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam  just barely  against the Legion''s onught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, the Legion gathers strength campfires burn, training drums beat, and it is only a matter of time before they cross the Colorado again.</em>


    <em>Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has remained open for business under the control of its mysterious owner, the enigmatic Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated tribals, and police robots.</em>


    <em>An unsuspecting courier, hired by the Mojave Express, is carrying an inconspicuous package to the New Vegas Strip. What seemed like a simple delivery job, however, has taken a turn for the worse</em>


    <em>The arrival of the courier, and the package he carries, will change the Mojave forever</em>


    <em>But war?</em>


    <em>War never changes.</em>


    I woke up to the sound of helicopter des. At least, that''s what I thought it was at first. Everything was so hazy and unfocused. I tried opening my eyes, but the light was blinding. I blinked away the haze, and my eyes eventually adjusted to the light. The world slowly shifted into focus, and I saw the spinning fan above me. I was on my back, on a bed, inside a house somewhere.


    How did I get here? What happened? And why does my head hurt?


    "You''re awake. How about that," said a voice to my left. I rolled over and tried to get up to get a better look at who was talking, but the room started spinning again. Waves of nausea washed over me, and I resisted the urge to vomit. I held my head to keep it from throbbing, and to keep me from copsing back on the bed right there. I was seeing double, and couldn''t really make out who was speaking.


    "Whoa, easy there. Easy," the blurry figure said again, reaching out a hand to steady me. I coughed and tried to power through the fog clouding my head. Finally he came into focus enough for me to see him. He was an older man, with a white moustache, bald head, overalls, and ck gloves. I didn''t recognize him.


    "You''ve been out cold a couple of days now. Just rx a second, get your bearings."


    "Wh where am I?" I finally managed to squeeze through the fog. "Who are you?"


    "I''m Doc Mitchell," he said proudly. "Wee to Goodsprings."


    Goodsprings. For some reason, that triggered a memory in my head. But it was all scrambled and out of order, like there were only bits and pieces left. A sign on the side of the road pointing to Goodsprings. A man in a checkered suit. My hands being bound. Getting hit over and over again. Someone digging a shallow grave. A water tower. Something about mytest delivery. A gun one that was pointed straight at my head. Followed by a gunshot.


    I''d been shot in the head.


    How the hell was I still alive?


    "Well now," Doc Mitchell said. "I gave you my name. Mind giving me yours?"


    I blinked, confused. "What?"


    "Your name. I didn''t really get the chance to ask you while I was patchin'' up the holes in your head, on ount of you bein'' unconscious and all. Figured now''s a good a time as any to ask who I''ve been stitching up."


    I sat up on the bed, trying to fully take stock of my surroundings. I was in a house, but it must''ve been a makeshift hospital, since there were medical supplies everywhere. "It''s Fisher. Sheason Fisher." Doc Mitchell shrugged.


    "Well, I can''t say it''s what I would''ve picked for you, but if that''s your name, that''s your name." He got up and headed towards a nearby desk. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He came back, with a mirror in his hand. "Now, I hope you don''t mind, but I had to go rootin'' around in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out. Now, I''m no stic surgeon, but I pride myself on my needlework  how''d I do?" And he handed me the mirror.


    I took a good hard look at my own face. My brown hair fell down in a matted mess, and my beard had grown out considerably without having shaved in a few days. But when I saw the scars, my blue eyes widened as I realized I''d been shot in the head not once, but twice. There was one nasty scar going from the right side of my mouth almost to my ear that wasn''t there before, and another scar that still had a few stitches at the top of my left temple. The motherfucker shot me in the head twice. I couldn''t help but touch the bullet-made sgow smile on my right cheek.


    "Right now, I''m just d I''m not dead," I said honestly. Doc Mitchell chuckled.


    "Well, I reckon most people would be d about that in your condition. Can you stand?" I nodded, getting up, and hoping I could get off the bed without falling t on my face. I was a little wobbly at first, but the world was getting clearer by the minute, so I had no trouble.


    "That''s good. You''re doin'' a lot better than I thought you would be for someone who''d been shot in the head," he said proudly. "Now, if you don''t mind, there are a few questions I want to ask you."


    "Sure, but Doc?" I asked, looking down and realizing I was only wearing a pair of underpants. "You mind if I get dressed first? I''d rather not be talkin'' to another man if I''m only in my skivvies, if you know what I mean."


    He nodded. "Sorry about that. I put all your possessions in the footlocker at the base of the bed when you were brought in here. Juste on into the other room when you''re ready to see me."


    A minuteter, I''d finished putting on my clothes  a cotton shirt, a leather jacket, my gloves, jeans, and leather boots - and was looking through the bag that held the rest of my things. The first thing I checked was Roscoe. Roscoe was a 9mm pistol that I kept on me at all times. It was simple, yet elegant, and brutal in its execution. I called it Roscoe because that was the name etched into the pistol''s grip. It was probably the name of whoever owned it before, but I didn''t really care; that pistol had served me well over the years, working when other guns would''ve up and died. I must''ve been ambushed; that''s the only reason I can think as to why I didn''t shoot them (whoever they were) with Roscoe first.


    I went through the rest of my possessions, after checking to make sure Roscoe was clean and undamaged. 150 bottlecaps. My binocrs. My canteen. 52 bullets for Roscoe spread between four magazines. The delivery order from the Mojave Express and that was it.


    Where was the tinum chip?


    That was the whole reason I was heading to New Vegas in the first ce  I was delivering a novelty tinum chip to some important suit in Vegas. And then I remembered. The man in the checkered suit  before he shot me, he held the tinum chip in front of my face, gloating.


    Even though the world was clearer, my mind was still a little fuzzy, and I couldn''t concentrate. That was when I realized just how immensely hungry I was. I must not have eaten in days


    "Thanks for the food," I said, finishing off the bowl of lukewarm soup Mitchell had pulled out of his fridge. I''ll be honest, it wasn''t all that appetizing  and tasted suspiciously of squirrel  but it was food, and you didn''t survive out in the wastnd long if you were a picky eater.


    "You''re still my patient, so it''s no problem," he said with a grin, sitting across from me at the table. "And you were pretty tolerant of my psych evaluation to make sure all your dogs were barkin''. Though, now we''ve got a minute, think you''re up to tellin'' me what got you put in my care in the first ce?"


    I wiped the food from my mouth, and shot him a questioning nce. "What, you don''t know?" He shook his head.


    "Nope. Like I said, I didn''t even know your name. All I knew was that metal fe, Victor, he carried you right to my doorstep a few days ago, asking me to fix you up. Even gave me more''n enough caps to cover everything, too." He paused. "So, you''re tellin'' me that you don''t know what got you shot in the head?" I shook my head.


    "Not really well kind of. Things are still a bit fuzzy ''round the edges," I said honestly. And then something he''d just said sunk in. "Wait, Victor? Who''s Victor?"


    "The robot, Victor. You know, the one with the TV for a face?" he said. I still had no idea what he was talking about. He shrugged. "Ah well. Anyway,e with me. I''ll see you out." He got up from the table, and I followed. As soon as we got to the door, he snapped his fingers.


    "Hang on, I almost forgot something," he said, disappearing into the other room, returning almost immediately. "If you''re headin'' back out there, you ought to have this." And with that, he handed me what was unmistakably


    "A Pip Boy?" I asked, incredulously. He nodded. I turned the machine over in my hands, getting a good look at one for the first time. I''ve seen a lot in my travels, but I''d never actually owned a Pip Boy, or even seen one up close before. It was a personalputer, designed to be worn on the left arm like a glove or a sleeve, except it was made of a dull greenish-grey metal. The most prominent feature was the screen, which took up most of the visible space, and beneath it were three buttons,beled "STATS," "ITEMS," and "DATA" in big bold letters. To the left of the screen was a dial, a knob, and near the top was what looked like a Geiger counter. Underneath the screen and out of the way were the twotches that opened and closed the device, so you could put it on and it wouldn''t simply slide off your arm when it locked. "Where''d you get it?"


    "I grew up in one of them Vaults they made before the war. We all got a Pip Boy. Ain''t much use to me now, but you might want such a thing, after what you been through," he paused, looking down. "I know what it''s like, having something taken from you" he said wistfully. I couldn''t help but wonder what had happened to make him so mncholy as I unlocked the Pip Boy.


    He shook it off, and looked back at the forearm mountedputer. "Just be careful with that thing though  once you put it on, the biometric seals or some such''lltch on to you. You''ll be the only one who can take it off again. I remember hearin'' a story about a guy who died in the middle of the night  they had to saw his arm off to remove the thing. Don''t know if''n that''s true or not, but better safe than sorry." I nodded, wondering just how useful something like that would be. There was an odd hum, and a strange tingling sensation shot up my arm as soon as it closed and locked tight.


    "Thanks again for patching me up, Doc," I said, shaking his hand. He waved it off.


    "Don''t mention it. It''s what I''m here for. And remember, you ever get hurt out there, youe right back and I''ll fix you up. Just try not to get yourself killed anymore, alright?" he added with a smirk. I couldn''t help butugh as well.


    "Thanks. I''ll see you around, Doc."


    And with that, I opened the door to the Mojave wastnd.


    It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the harsh desert sun, and I finally got a good look at the town. Goodsprings was such a small town that I''d never been here on a job before. By the looks of the buildings, the town must have existed long before the war that destroyed the world. Based on the time (close to 9 am) and where the sun was, Doc Mitchell''s house was on the west side of town, up a small hill. There was a gpole next to his door, with a blue g that said "Battle Born," "Nevada," and "Southwest Commonwealth" on it.


    I started walking down the hill towards the cracked and broken street when I became aware of an odd squeaking sound, like a greased axle grinding against metal. Rolling towards me on a singlerge wheel was a blue, vaguely v-shaped boxy robot with arms that looked like thick pipes with ws on the end, and television in the middle of its well, body. Projected on the screen was the face of a cowboy with a big cowboy hat, a handkerchief around his neck, and a cigarette hanging out of his smiling mouth.


    "Howdy, pardner!" it said. The robot spoke through a speaker above the TV, and the artificial voice was colored by an odd ent I couldn''t ce. "Might I say, you''re lookin'' fit as a fiddle." The face didn''t move as the robot talked, but the image asionally flickered in and out of focus.


    "Let me guess," I said to the robot, a little unsure where to look (I didn''t see a camera, or eyes, or anything like that  should I just look at the face on the TV?). "You must be Victor, right?"


    "That I am, pardner," the robot replied. "Pleased to meet you all proper like."


    "Doc Mitchell told me what you did. Thanks for saving me." I started to raise a hand out of habit, before I realized that I couldn''t actually shake hands with a w.


    "Don''t mention it!" Victor waved one of his w-hands. "I''m always ready to lend a helping hand to a stranger in need."


    "Yeah, well thanks all the same. The name''s Sheason Fisher."


    "I know who you are," Victor said, unmoving. "Don''t you worry none about that."


    Before I could ask how he knew my name, a more important question leapt into my head. "Say, how did you find me, anyway?" I desperately needed to start piecing together exactly what had happened, and this robot was probably going to be my best lead.


    "I was out for a stroll that night when I heard themotion up at the old bone orchard." He turned on his wheel, pointing a w at a hill to the north. There was the water tower I remembered. "Saw what looked like a bunch of bad eggs, so Iid low." He turned back to face me, his screen flickering again slightly. "Once they''d run off, I dug you up to see if you were still kickin''. Turns out, you were, so I hauled you off to the Doc right quick." For some reason that reminded me of a question I''d forgotten to ask Mitchell.


    "You know how long the Doc was patching me up?"


    "It''s been" the robot trailed off. "Hang on, what''s the date?" I was at a loss for words. I''d never known a robot to forget what day it was. As far as I knew, they all had internal clocks to measure things like that  not that I usually got the chance to ask, mind.


    I checked the Pip Boy''s clock: October 19, 2281.


    "Well then, you''ve been in there about 7 or 8 days, I reckon." Victor replied matter-of-factly after I told him the date.


    "Do you know who ambushed me?" I''d been dead for a week. It was time to start finding out who was responsible  and pay them back with interest.


    "Hmm" Victor said, tapping his right w against the bottom of his TV screen with an audible clicking sound. "Can''t say that I''m familiar with the rascals. Some of the fine folks in town might be able to help you out with that."


    Damn.


    "Well, thanks anyway," I said to the robot. I needed to get up to the graveyard and see if there were any clues as to who shot me. I know the robot told me to ask around town, but personally I''d like to find whatever I could with my own eyes before I started asking any of the local yahoos.


    "Happy trails!" Victor said cheerfully, turning on his wheel and rolling on down the street. There was something off about that robot. Granted, he was by no means the weirdest thing I''d seen on my travels across the wastnd but there was something about him it, I thought, correcting myself that was just not quite right.


    I put the robot out of my mind, trying to focus and put the pieces of that night back together in my head. My mind was no longer fuzzy like it was when I woke up less than an hour ago. So I made my way through the town and up the hill to the cemetery, trying to remember


    "You got what''cha were after. Pay up." The voice cut through the darkness, cold and angry. I opened my eyes to see both my hands bound in front of me. I shook off the dizziness, and felt something cold and wet slide down my face. A few droplets of blood fell onto my gloves.


    "You''re cryin'' in the rain, pally," said a different voice. I struggled with the ropes, but it didn''t work. I couldn''t break free.


    "Heh," there was a third voice. "Guess who''s wakin'' up over here." I looked up and saw three men in front of me. The one in the center wore a ck and white checkered jacket, with slicked back, greasy ck hair. Two guys in ck leather vests and white headbands nked him on either side. Based on their clothing, those two must be members of the Great Khans  a gang that roamed the Mojave wastnd. The one on the left was ck with an enormous moustache, and the one on the right was white and had red hair in a spiky Mohawk. The white guy carried a shovel.


    The suit took onest draw from his cigarette before dropping it on the ground and putting it out with his shoe. "Time to cash out," he said, walking towards me.


    "Would you get it over with?" the ck guy said, looking annoyed. The suit held up a finger to silence him.


    "Maybe Khans kill people without lookin'' em in the face. But I ain''t a fink. Dig?" The ck guy shook his head, looking to his friend with the Mohawk, who just shrugged. The suit reached into his jacket, pulling out a poker chip. But not just any poker chip  he was holding the tinum chip that I had been hired to deliver to New Vegas.


    "You''ve made yourst delivery, kid," he said with a smirk. He put the chip back into his jacket. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." With that, he pulled out a pistol  it was a 9mm, like Roscoe, but it had an ivory grip and nickel-ted engraving on the slide and frame, making it look more like a piece of art than a weapon.


    "If you''re gonna shoot me," I spat blood at his feet, "get it over with, you greasy fuck." He just smiled at me again, and the ck guy looked off in another direction, apparently ufortable with the whole situation. The suit wasn''t done talking yet, though.


    "From where you''re kneeling, it must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck" I heard a click as he thumbed back the hammer, pointing the gun at my face. "Truth is the game was rigged from the start."


    Bang.


    Darkness.


    I stood at the edge of my grave.


    It wasn''t marked, but it must have been mine; it was the only grave in the Goodsprings cemetery that was disturbed. I must''ve just stared at it for a good fifteen minutes, while my mind reyed the events thatnded me here over and over again now that I could remember it properly.


    The grave was barely a foot and a half deep.


    There wasn''t any wind. Maybe it was just my mind ying tricks on me, but for some reason the graveyard felt unnaturally still and quiet. Off in the distance to the northeast, I could see the faint silhouette of the New Vegas skyline. Above me was the rusted water tower, looming over everything like a giant headstone for the entire graveyard.


    I moved away, cursing under my breath. There wasn''t anything here. Nothing I could use, anyway.


    I needed a drink.


    The radio was the only real sound I heard when I opened the door to the local bar. It was full of static, and ying some pre-war tune. There were only two people inside  a man at the end of the bar, nursing a ss filled with some kind of hooch, and a female bartender who was cleaning a ss. She looked up as I stepped into the bar.


    "Well, you''ve been causin'' quite a stir," she said, brushing her short dark hair out of her face as I took a seat at the bar. She wore a faded floral dress with a white apron, but her top was covered by a beige cardigan. "d I finally got to meet you. The name''s Trudy  wee to the Prospector Saloon. What can I get you?"


    I shrugged. "What''ve you got?" She put the ss down, reached under the bar, and pulled out a bottle that was simplybeled "whisky," setting it on the bar with an audible thump.


    "What do you think?"


    "Yeah, I''ll have some of that." As she opened the bottle with a pop and started pouring it in the ss she''d been cleaning, I decided to make good on Victor''s suggestion. "So, if you''ve heard of me, then you know what happened."


    "A bit, yeah. I''d heard you were hurt bad, and the Doc was fixin'' you up. But it weren''t none of my business, so I didn''t ask."


    "Fair enough. Still, maybe you can help me," I took a gulp of the whisky and continued. "I''m trying to track down the men who attacked me. There are three that I know of  a man in a checkered suit, and two Great Khans. Sound familiar?" Trudy nodded.


    "Yeah, but I don''t know much  except that they were a load of freeloaders who expected a few rounds on the house." She scoffed. "I was able to convince them to pay up, though. Of course, one of those damn Khans knocked my radio to the floor ''by ident''," Trudy made finger-quotes in the air, "and it hasn''t worked right since." At that moment, the radio belched out some more static. She gave it a good thump, and the radio started ying music again. There was still a fair bit of static interference, though.


    "Did they say where they were going?" I gulped down a bit more whiskey.


    "They were havin'' some kind of argument about that, actually. The guy in the checkered coat kept shushin'' ''em. It sounded like they came in from the north, through Quarry Junction. If that''s the case, I can''t say I me ''em for not wanting to go back." The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and a sinking feeling started to form in my gut.


    "You know, before I was attacked, I was nning on heading to Vegas up I-15 through Quarry Junction."


    "If that was your n, you''re either brave or stupid." She paused. "No offense. From what I hear, that whole area''s infested with the sort of critters that only get mad if you shoot at ''em. I ain''t never seen one myself, but hear tell they''re these big, vicious beasts, twice the size of a man, with ws that''d rip through metal like paper. Merchants have been avoidin'' that stretch of the I-15 like its radioactive now  and hell, it could very well be, for all I know."


    I downed the rest of my drink, motioning for a refill. There was only one thing in the wastnd that fit that kind of description: Deathws. I can fully believe that she''d never seen one before. If she had, then she''d know that the only real description of those monsters was "walking murder machines." I doubted that even my Corvega would''ve been able to survive if a Deathw was after me. This infestation must''ve been new, since thest I''d heard, the I-15 up to Vegas was clear of everything except geckos and fiends.


    "So, where were they headed?" I finally asked between gulps.


    "I didn''t hear exactly, but the leader was talkin'' about the Strip. Fe wants to get there and avoid the 15, he''d have to go east. Take Highway 95 up." I thought about that route in my head. It was a roundabout way to get to Vegas, and it was a longshot, but if I followed their footsteps, I might just be able to catch up to the bastards who''d tried to put me in the ground. I finished off my drink, and dropped the bottlecaps I owed on the bar. I thanked her for the drink, and made for the door, but before I left, I turned to ask her one more question.


    "By the way  how far away is Jean?" She looked confused.


    "That broken airfield on the side of the 15?" I nodded. She thought for a moment. "It''s ''bout 6 or 7 miles. Just follow the main road out of town, headin'' south east."


    "Thanks," I nodded, leaving the bar.


    The road out of town was long, straight, and quiet. I wasn''t really trying to rush myself  especially in the growing heat  so, it took me about two hours to walk the road. And that whole time, the only thing going through my head was repeat after repeat of the moment I''d been shot. When I''d first woken up a few hours ago, it was killing me that I couldn''t remember what happened; now that I could remember it with such vivid detail, all I wanted was to think about anything else.


    This is good, I finally decided. Let yourself remember. Make sure every single detail was etched and burned into your brain. Every single drop of blood. Every strike. All the pain. All the burning, seething hatred. Remember the face of the man who shot you  the man in the checkered coat. Remember everything, and use it to fuel your vengeance. And don''t let anything get in your way.


    The road finally ended, dumping me onto the cracked and broken remains of I-15. I saw the sign that pointed to Goodsprings  one of the first things I''d remembered clearly when I woke up. There was something here that belonged to me, and I just had to find it. I walked along the road, looking for anything out of ce. And after fifteen minutes of walking, I found it.


    In the middle of the road was a decently sized, ckened crater. It looked new, not weathered by the elements like the craters left by the war. And in that moment, I realized: this must''ve been how they''d ambushed me. They''d put explosives on the road, probably disguised like a rock or some other kind of detritus.


    I looked around feverishly, knowing that it had to be here somewhere. When I saw it, my eyes must''ve lit up like a fiend opening up a box of chems. My baby was still here.


    On the side of the road, with a t tire and one side smashed up against a nearby rock formation was my Corvega. On the outside, it looked like any one of the many broken and rusted cars that littered the roads everywhere. But unlike those cars, this one actually had an engine and innards that worked, all four doors, a rollcage on the inside, and even a windscreen that was mostly intact (there were a few cracks, but amazingly the crash hadn''t added any new ones).


    I''d picked it up for a small fortune a few years ago in New Reno, but it was worth it. You see, I made my living by being a courier. And the best way to be a courier was if you had the means and ability to deliver packages to far off and far flung ces in the wastnd quickly and the best way to do that was with a set of wheels.


    I checked the car from top to bottom, to see exactly what was wrong. There was the t tire, obviously, but that wasn''t a big deal; I had a spare in the trunk. I gave the underside a quick once over, and was pleased to see the metal tes on the bottom had held. That meant the really important bits (like the transmission, the gearbox, and the differential) were all still intact. The only thing that really made me cringe wasn''t a mechanical problem. It was the steering wheel, still stained with dried blood from when my face must''ve hit it in the crash.


    All in all, the damage wasn''t too bad. But then I tried to start it up, just to make sure that it would.


    And it wouldn''t.


    I was out of fuel.


    I could tell  I don''t know how  that someone, somewhere, at this very moment was having a tremendousugh at my misfortune. I jokingly vowed then and there to find that person eventually and punch him really hard in the middle of his face.


    I walked back into Goodsprings in decent spirits. There was surprisingly little wrong with my car, despite having been forced off the road by explosives. With the exception of a few loose connections I''d discovered when I checked under the hood, the only major thing wrong was ack of fuel, and that was easy enough to fix. The car had been modified to run on microfusion cells  batteries that most people in the wastnd only used to power energy weapons. With any luck, Chet, the guy who ran the general store, would have some that I could barter for. If not, I could always find a generator and borrow some power to charge them up. I wouldn''t need much  just enough to get me to the New California Republic outpost on the I-15 just south of Primm. I could get more supplies there.


    I opened up my canteen and lifted it up to my mouth to take a drink only to find that it was empty too. I shrugged, and instead of going to the general store, I went back into the Prospector Saloon next door. The car hadn''t gone anywhere in a week, I could take the time to get another drink.


    "I''m done bein'' nice!" I heard a voice yell when I opened the door to the saloon. The man yelling was a ck man wearing a blue cotton shirt, grey striped trousers and what looked like ck Ker body armor with "NCRCF" stenciled in white paint on the back. He was pointing an usatory finger at Trudy, who stood her ground and looked annoyed. "If you don''t hand over Ringo soon, I''m gonna get my friends, and we''re gonna burn this shitstain of a town down to the fuckin'' ground. Got it?"


    "We''ll keep that in mind," she spat back at him, not budging an inch. "Now, if you''re not gonna buy something, GET OUT." For a second I thought she was going to hit him, but instead she just pointed past his head at the door. The ck man snorted, and turned on his heels. He violently knocked his shoulder into me on his way out, in a weak attempt at looking tough. Trudy sighed, and walked back behind the bar, finally noticing me. "Hey there. Didn''t expect to see you here again, an'' certainly not so soon. What can I get''cha?"


    Don''t do it, I thought to myself. Don''t you dare do it.


    "My canteen''s empty," I replied, sitting down. "Thought I''d get onest drink for the road." She nodded and reached under the bar.


    Don''t do it, I kept thinking to myself. This isn''t your fight. Don''t do it. But then, despite it all, I heard the words escape my lips:


    "So, I overheard you arguing with that guy. What was that all about?"


    Damnit!


    "Just some unpleasantness," she sighed, pouring me another ss of whisky. "Our little town has gotten itself dragged into something we don''t want nothin'' to do with. About a week ago  a little before you showed up at Doc''s ce  this trader, Ringo,es into town. Survivor of an attack, he says. There''s some bad men after him, he says, and he needs a ce to hide. I figured he was just in shock. So I gave him a ce to lie low. Didn''t think anyone''d actuallye after him."


    "The guy who just left  he was one of the guys after Ringo?"


    "Joe Cobb," Trudy scoffed. "He talks big, but he''s just a spineless two bit-thug like the rest of those Powder Ganger hoodlums."


    "Powder Gangers?" I''d never heard of them before.


    "Chain gangs, really," she said with a shrug. "The NCR brought them in from California to work on the rail lines. Turns out giving a bunch of convicts a whole heap of dynamite and sting powder isn''t the best idea. Was a big escape not too long ago. Some of ''em stuck together so they could make trouble. That''s what we''re dealin'' with now."


    "So where is Ringo now?" I asked, mentally kicking myself for continuing. This wasn''t my business, especially since I had much more pressing concerns at the moment.


    "He''s holed up at the abandoned gas station up the hill," she said. I thought about that for a minute, and something about that didn''t make sense.


    "You know, the town isn''t that big. Why hasn''t Cobb found Ringo yet?"


    "Probably because he ain''t lookin'' too hard. I think he''s afraid Ringo''ll ambush him. Like I said, spineless." She gave a soft, nervous chuckle. "Problem is, even if Cobb goes down, his friends''ll likely try and roll in and set fire to the ce, just out of spite."


    "So what are you gonna do?" I asked. She shrugged.


    "Some of the others, like Sunny, they''ll probably stand up for Ringo if he asks for help. Which he hasn''t. Personally, I hope he sneaks out of town one night and takes the Powder Gangers with him. We got enough problems with geckos and radscorpions without having to deal with someone else''s bullshit getting dropped on our porch."


    I thought about what she said for a minute, finally finishing off my drink. Even if Ringo were to leave town, from the way Cobb was threatening Trudy, I could just tell the Powder Gangers had no intention of leaving. Not without blood first. I knew the kind of people that got thrown into NCR prisons; they were bad people, like raiders and vers. They were the kind that would try and take anything if it looked like an easy target. Of course, if that supposedly easy target turned out to have teeth


    Against my better judgment, a n was forming in my head. Something that might be able to get Goodspings out of danger, drive off the Powder Gangers, and (if I were to y my cards right) make myself a tidy profit of caps for the road.


    Itched onto the idea of money, and tried to convince myself that was my sole motivation, despite the hogwash I knew it was. That, and I promised myself that I''d try to help but no matter what, I''d be out of Goodspringse sunset.


    The abandoned gas station, like almost every other pre war building, was dpidated, boarded up, and covered in peeling paint and rust. There weren''t any gas pumps  just a couple of frames where it looked like the pumps had been ripped right out of the ground. The building itself was essentially just a box with a door, boarded up windows, and an attached garage with a broken pickup truck sitting on cinderblocks inside. Beside the door was a Sunset Sarsapari vending machine. Next to the building was a bent sign, with a "Poseidon Energy" logo on top. Below it was another sign, broken in ces, but the intent was still clearly visible:


    <strong>REGULAR</strong>


    $7450.99/gal


    <strong>PREMIUM</strong>


    $8500.99/gal


    I made my way carefully to the door. The windows may have been boarded up, but close up I could tell that there were enough gaps for anyone inside to look out, and aim a weapon through. With deliberate slowness, I pushed the door open. The rusted hinges squeaked unbearably, until the door was stopped by the back wall with a thud.


    The unmistakable click of a pistol''s hammer being cocked back echoed like cannon fire from inside the glorified shack.


    "That''s close enough," Ringo came out from behind a pair of boxes, his pistol drawn. He was wearing a dark brown id shirt, a pair of denim overalls, with a faded red handkerchief and a pair of goggles tied around his neck. Slung across his body was a satchel, bearing the unmistakable two-headed bear logo of the New California Republic. He looked like he couldn''t be more than twenty. "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"


    "I''m not an enemy, if that''s what you''re asking," I told him, raising my hands in the air in an effort to calm him down. I could tell in his eyes, and by the way his gun hand was shaking, he wasn''t a killer. Not really. But it was probably a good idea to y it safe.


    "Yeah? Then why are you here?"


    "I talked to Trudy. She told me about the trouble you''ve been having with Joe Cobb. Thought I might be able to help," He still looked at me with distrust. "But I''m not gonna be able to help if you keep pointing that gun at me." He thought about that for a moment, and finally relented, un-cocking the pistol and setting it down on the counter.


    "Alright. Sorry you just caught me off guard, is all." He leaned against the back wall, and put his hands in his pockets. "Let''s start over. My name''s Ringo."


    "Sheason," I said, letting my hands fall to my sides as I stepped further inside the gas station. "Why don''t we start from the beginning: do you know why Joe Cobb and the Powder Gangers are after you?" He shrugged.


    "Last week my caravan was on the return trip from California and heading back up to the Crimson Caravanpany branch in New Vegas when we got jumped," he said. "Not even a ''drop your weapons and hands up!'' before the bullets started flying. I''d like to think we put up a good fight, but there were too many of ''em. I took a few of the bandits down, but by the time I cut and run I was the only one of my caravan left alive. Best I can figure, they''re either out for revenge, or they just wanna finish the job."


    "So, have you thought about what you''re gonna do?" I asked, almost dreading the answer. He didn''t really strike me as the nning type.


    "What can I do, excepty low for as long as I can, and hope that the town doesn''t throw me to the wolves? I could probably deal with Cobb if he actually started looking for me, but I got no chance against his friends on my own."


    "You know what you need? You need a hired gun," I said, simply. "Someone who can help you send those jokers packin''. And, as it just so happens, I''m avable and could use the money." He looked a little worried at the mention of money.


    "I can''t pay much. All I''ve got left are a handful of caps" A spark crept in his eyes and I could tell he''d just had an idea. "Listen, I''ll pay you what I can right now, but if you get me out of this I''ll make sure the Crimson Caravan pays you back. You have my word."


    "It''ll have to do," I said, shrugging.


    "Thanks so what do we do now?"


    "You are going to continue doing what you''ve been doing. Stay put. I''m gonna ask around town, see if I can get some more people on board to help." I started to walk out the door. Before I left, he called after me.


    "You really think anyone is actually going to help?"


    "Yeah," I said, turning back to him. "Yeah, I do."


    "Say no more. I''m in."


    Sunny Smiles was the name of the local ''ranger'' living in Goodsprings. If Trudy was the town mom, then Sunny was the family bulldog. You wouldn''t think it to look at her  short, young, freckles on her face, light brown hair pulled back, and an almost constant grin. But I''d asked around, and the general consensus was that if I wanted to get some help and organize a defense against the Powder Gangers, I needed to talk to the best shot in town: Sunny Smiles.


    "Really?" I asked. "Just like that?" I figured that I''d need to convince her. I didn''t expect her to almost cut me off before I''d made my pitch.


    "Just like that," she said, sitting smugly on a chair inside the saloon. Sitting next to her was Sunny''s dog, Cheyenne. Sunny was scratching her dog behind the ear while she was talking with me. "I got this feeling I''m gonna end up fighting those guys one way or another. Might as well get it over with."


    "How can you be sure?"


    "Joe Cobb talks about leaving us alone if we hand over Ringo, but I know his type. He and his friends wille after Goodsprings eventually."


    I decided right then and there that I liked this kid with the varmint rifle strapped to her back. She had good instincts.


    "Of course," she continued, "you, me, an'' Ringo ain''t exactly a force to be reckoned with." That much was true. Ringo looked like he was still unsure as to what part of a gun was the business end, I was still technically recovering from being shot in the head, and even if people said Sunny was the best shot in town, she still looked like she must have been 17 or 18.


    "You know anyone else in town who might be willing to help us drive the Powder Gangers back?" I asked. She grinned.


    "Yeah, I know a few"


    I spent a good hour and a half going all around town, trying to rally the townsfolk. I''d convinced Trudy by telling her my n  gather anyone who was willing to fight and who had a gun in front of the saloon, set up some cover and a few barricades, and then draw out the Powder Gangers. The only direction they coulde at us was from the southeast, where there was no cover to speak of. Joe Cobb and his friends would walk right into a killzone.


    Easy Pete, the old man who''d spent all day sitting on the saloon''s porch in a rocking chair, parted with his dynamite quickly enough. I just had to convince him that I knew how to use it. After a bit of arguing, Chet eventually promised to hand out as much armor and ammo as he could from the general store''s back room to anyone who needed it. Even Doc Mitchell promised to help  he couldn''t actually fight, because of his dodgy knee; then again, I didn''t expect him to pick up a gun and shoot anybody. But he did part with some Med-X and a few stimpacks, just in case anybody ended up with a few extra holes.


    While I was going around town, trying to get whoever I could to help, I always saw Joe Cobb out of the corner of my eye. I could just tell by the way he was watching me he knew what wasing. When I left Doc Mitchell''s ce, I didn''t see Cobb anywhere. And that, I knew, was trouble. The sun was starting to set. I needed to end this, so I made my way back to the gas station.


    On my way there, however, I heard a familiar squeaking sound, and turned around to see Victor rolling up the street just behind me.


    "Well howdy-do, friend!" the robot said, rolling to a halt in front of me. "Didn''t think you''d still be in town."


    "Neither did I," I muttered under my breath. And then a thought crossed my mind. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try, at least. "Hey, Victor? Are you decent in a fight?"


    "Well shucks," the robot replied. "I''d like to think I''m fair handy with a six-gun. Why?"


    "A gang is gonna try and attack the town soon, and we could use the extra firepower." Victor wobbled a bit on his wheel, and his screen flickered. He lifted a w arm, and the light caught something on the inside of the w I hadn''t seen before: a focusing crystal diode cluster. Victor was armed  quite literally  withser weapons.


    "Trouble with rustlers, eh pardner? Count me in. Those varmints''ll be running home with their tails between their legs by day''s end."


    "So, what''s going on? Did Sunny agree to help us?" Ringo asked as soon as I stepped back into the gas station.


    "Sunny''s with us. So is a lot of the town."


    "Really?" He started to sound hopeful. "We might actually stand a chance after-"


    "Sheason!" I heard a voice yell from behind me. I turned around, and saw Sunnye running up the hill towards the gas station. She already had her rifle drawn. "Ringo! Time to look alive, the Powder Gangers are here to y!" Ringo looked a little worried; I checked Roscoe to make sure he was loaded.


    "How many are there?"


    "At least six, Joe Cobb included. They look pretty mean."


    "Where are Trudy and the others?"


    "As soon as I saw theming up the road, I told everyone I could," Sunny said, looking back towards the saloon. "They''re in positions around the saloon, just like you said. It ain''t much, but this little militia you''ve pulled together just might save the town. I''ll be set up by the store  lets hope they don''t get that far." Sunny left, rifle at the ready. I turned to Ringo.


    "I''m ready. You better be, too."


    Ringo gulped, but pulled out his pistol just the same. The two of us ran down the hill towards the general store and saloon. All around the front of both stores were boxes and sacks full of dirt, piled up to create makeshift cover. Aside from Sunny, I could see Trudy carrying a massive pump action shotgun in position by her store, along with about half a dozen other people, all armed with rifles, shotguns, and revolvers. I ducked behind a piece of cover in front of the saloon, and Ringo stayed behind a crate near Sunny.


    "I warned ya, cunt!" Joe Cobb''s voice rang out. I peeked over the box I was using for cover with Roscoe at the ready. There were six of them, but they weren''t all armed with guns; one had a baseball bat with a couple of nails in it, and another had a meat cleaver. The rest were armed with shotguns, and Cobb held a .357 magnum revolver in the air. "I warned you what would happen if you didn''t hand him over! Now it''s toote!"


    "Toote for you, maybe," Trudy said under her breath. A hissing sound erupted next to me. I turned just in time to see Trudy toss a lit stick of dynamite over the barricade and watched it sail through the air right towards the Powder Gangers. With a sh and a bang, the town opened up, and the air was filled with gunfire.


    But what happened next, I honestly didn''t expect.


    As soon as I aimed down Roscoe''s sights at the invading gang, the whole world began to slow down. This wasn''t normal, like the heightened sense of awareness you''d get when your body is pumping you full of adrenaline; this felt artificial. I could see each and every one of the Powder Gangers clearly, almost like they had a glowing outline, and without knowing how, I felt like I could target individual body parts on all of them.


    Next thing I knew, I heard a voice in my ear  not like an external voice, but a voiceing from within my actual ear canal. It was robotic and mechanical, yet vaguely feminine and oddly cheerful.


    "Thank you for using V.A.T.S., also known as the Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System. This function of your Pip Boy 3000 will assist you in targeting, allowing for greater freedom and heightened uracy with the weapon of your choice!"


    Well, that''s new.


    I want to make one thing perfectly clear: I''m a decent enough shot with Roscoe. Skill with a gun is something you have to develop out of necessity if you want to survive in the irradiated wastnd. I can''t really pull off trick shots, but when ites to simple but effective, I''m pretty decent.


    When V.A.T.S. activated, I felt like GOD.


    Three pulls of the triggerter and the three closest Powder Gangers went down hard; one neck shot, and two headshots. Cobb dove for cover behind the Goodsprings town sign. Sunny took careful aim with her rifle, and the ganger who was standing next to Cobb went down. The one in the back faltered, dropped his gun, and started running away from the iing hail of gunfire.


    "Hey man, what the fuck!" Cobb yelled, still hiding behind the sign. "Where the fuck do you think you''re going?"


    "Fuck you, man! I''m not dyin'' for this shit!" the ganger yelled back, not even slowing down. Cobb was now all alone, and he knew it. The sign was starting to splinter from all the bullets hitting it. Trudy held out her hand, and shouted for people to hold their fire. When the gunfire quieted down, an odd stillness fell over everything.


    "I''m gonna give you one chance!" Trudy shouted across the street, her shotgun still pointed in Cobb''s direction. "Leave Goodspings alone, and we won''t kill you for tresspassin''!" Cobb poked his head out from behind the sign. His revolver was still cocked, ready to fire.


    "Fuck you, bitch!" he shouted back. "This is Powder Ganger territory!" I had a shot. So I slipped into V.A.T.S., and decided to take it.


    "Hey Cobb!" I yelled at him. He looked at me and his eyes went wide when he saw Roscoe pointed right at his skull. "Wee to Goodsprings!"


    Cobb was dead before he hit the ground.


    The sun may have set, but the sky still had a slight hint of blue about it. I''d stuck around to help the townsfolk clear away the bodies, and get the fuel cells for my Corvega from Chet. Before I left town for good, Sunny, Ringo and I were all sitting on one of the boxes used for cover earlier. Sunny was drinking a beer, Ringo was smoking, and I was nursing a sk full of whisky. Sunny''s dog Cheyenne was sitting on the ground, gnawing on a piece of meat.


    "Thanks again for helping me out," he said. "Both of you. I owe you a huge favor for this."


    "Don''t mention it," I said. "You already paid me."


    "I was gonna stick around for a few days more, see if there''s anything I can do to pay back all the trouble I caused." I heard Sunny mutter under her breath "That''d take more''n a couple of days," as she took a swig of beer. Ringo either didn''t hear her, or just ignored her, "But if you ever find yourself up by New Vegas, look me up at the Crimson Caravan camp. What are you gonna do?"


    "I got some business I gotta take care of." I said, taking a long draw from my sk. "Some men stole something from me, and left me for dead. I aim to repay their kindness."


    "Oh! By the way," Sunny spoke up. "Trudy wanted me to thank you for fixin'' her radio." I waved it off; it was just a couple of loose wires, it took less than a minute. At that moment, we were interrupted by a familiar squeaking sound. Coming from around the bend, Victor rolled along the street and stopped in front of us.


    "Howdy, pardner!" he said cheerfully. "So, when do the rustlers show up?" The three of us just sat there in silence, looking at the oblivious robot. Finally, I decided to break the silence.


    "They came around at sunset. The fight''s already been over for a good long while. Didn''t you hear any of the gunfire?" Victor''s screen flickered.


    "Didn''t hear a thing. Guess I must''ve dozed off there for a minute." Suddenly, his screen winked out of focus, reced with static. A red light blinked underneath the monitor and a voice (different from Victor''s normal voice and unfamiliar to me) issued forth from the speaker:


    <strong>[Override Command: 16-Delta]</strong>


    And then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the red light winked out, and Victor''s face returned to the screen. "I truly am sorry I couldn''t help you, pardner," the robot said in his original voice. The three of us looked to one another, wondering what in the hell had just happened. Desperately looking for an out, I nced at my Pip Boy.


    "Well, would you look at the time," I said hastily getting up from the box. "I best be going. Ringo, good luck to you. Sunny, you keep on smiling. And Victor" I searched for something appropriate to say. "It''s been unique."


    "Happy Trails!" the robot waved to me as I turned and walked down the road out of town.

 Chapter 2: Primm

    Chapter 2: Primm


    <em>Ladies and gentlemen, wee to our program. This is Mr. New Vegas. I''ve got some news for you. A package courier found shot in the head near Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness and is expected to make a full recovery. Now that is a delivery service you can count on! Also, unconfirmed reports indicate that the NCR Correctional Facility is under prisoner control following a sessful riot. Locals should avoid anyone who looks like they''ve done time. Today''s headlines were brought to you by Primm: the other New Vegas. Got some Dean Martining up, talking about the greatest feeling in the world: love. Ain''t That a Kick in the Head? It sure is, Dino. It sure is.</em>


    There were 13 miles of broken road between where I''d crashed my car and Primm. Once I''d installed the power cells in the engine and pushed it back onto the road, the trip was pretty uneventful but that was to be expected. One of the biggest curses of the wastnd is also one of its greatest benefits: because people tended to cluster in small, tight knitmunities, there would be vast expanses of very little, or nothing at all. And more often than not, "nothing at all" just meant giant mutant bugs, which made people even less likely to want to travel.


    That''s one of the reasons I was unsurprised to find my car unmolested after a week. The I-15 gets more traffic than a lot of roads, sure, but that just means it might get one or two caravans passing that way a month, if that. Add in the fact that (unless you saw it running) you could easily mistake my Corvega for one of the innumerable broken, rusted, burned out husks littering almost every road, it meant that if anyone did happen to pass by it, they likely wouldn''t have even given it a second nce.


    It was close to 10 pm when I rolled up to the outskirts of Primm. The town was cut in half by the I-15, with an overpass connecting the east side and the west side. The east side had all the casinos, like the Bison Steve with its broken down roller coaster, and the Vikki and Vance with its stupid death car exhibit. More important to me though, the east side had a Mojave Express outpost  specifically, the outpost where I was supposed to return and deliver the payment, ording to the delivery order I''d been given at the same time as the tinum Chip. If I was lucky, there might be some information there I could use to find the man who shot me.


    Because of the wall surrounding most of the town, the only easy way into the east side of Primm was the overpass, and that meant going through the west side of town. The only things of note about the west side were a half dozen abandoned buildings  which is why the lightsing from the west side were so strange. The lights didn''t look like fires. It looked like someone had got the street lights in a small section of town up and running. So I parked my car by the side of the road, and headed the rest of the way into town on foot.


    "Hey!" A voice eventually called out to me from the darkness. I looked around, trying to find where it came from, my eyesnding on what looked like a makeshift guard shack made out of bits of scrap metal. "Where do you think you''re going?" When I got closer, I could see the man speaking to me from inside the guard shack was wearing an NCR trooper uniform: light brown fatigues, brown shoulder armor with "NCR" stenciled on it, a pair of goggles on his face, and a tan helmet. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, across his back.


    "I''m going to Primm," I said honestly, pointing in the general direction of the east side of town. "Is that a problem?"


    "Primm is off limits," the NCR soldier said simply, crossing his arms over his chest. I looked at him questioningly.


    "Off limits? Off limits to who? I didn''t think Primm fell under NCR jurisdiction," yet, I added mentally. I had mixed feelings about the New California Republic, as did a lot of people. On the one hand, the NCR did a lot of good. Most of the territory that fell under NCR protection was among the safest you could find in the wastnd. People could live in rtive peace, and even raise families without having to worry about raiders or vers or mutants every moment of every day. But on the other hand, a good chunk of the people who ran the NCR administration  politicians, government officials, generals  they were all useless and ipetent, or horribly corrupt, and they were in serious risk of running the fledgling nation into the ground.


    Part of the NCR''s problem was that it was expanding way too fast. They were spreading ''the good word of the NCR'' further east every day, without bothering to make sure the ces they ''annexed'' (a fancy word for conquered) were properly cared for or protected. "Uniting everyone under one banner so they can be ignored or interfered with equally" could''ve been their damn motto.


    "Didn''t you hear about the prison break?" the NCR trooper exined. "Some of the Powder Gangers came south and have taken over Primm. Everyone inside is either dead or in hiding. The NCR is here to contain the situation. And that means no one in or out."


    "I think I can handle myself," I said patting Roscoe, which I had strapped to my hip. "Besides that, I have business in Primm I need to take care of. I bet I could get in, get done, and get out before the Powder Gangers even knew I was there." The NCR soldier looked unimpressed.


    "Normally I''d say it was your ass. But right now, I have orders to hold the line here, and orders are orders. You''re not getting into Primm."


    I rubbed my eyes in exasperation. I hated dealing with NCR troops.


    "Look, who''s yourmanding officer?" I asked. He stayed silent, and I continued. "Call yourmanding officer on that radio I know you have, and let him know there''s a courier here who wants to speak with him about getting into Primm. That way, you can continue to follow your orders, and I can do what I need to do." He continued to stay silent, apparently weighing his options. Finally he reached for the radio that was sitting on the desk next to him.


    "Lieutenant Hayes?" He said into the radio. A muffled voice crackling with static replied.


    "What is it, Corporal?"


    "I have a Well, he says he''s a courier, sir. He''s requesting ess to Primm and wishes to speak with you." There was a moment of static filled silence.


    "Alright, send him down, Corporal. Good work." The radio clicked off.


    "Head down the road; you''ll find Lieutenant Hayes in a tent at the south end of town." The NCR trooper said to me, putting his radio back on the desk. "But if you want my advice, you''ll stay on this side of the overpass if you don''t want to get shot."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I said, walking past the guard post and down the dimly lit street. It wasn''t long before I found the tents the trooper was talking about. There were two of them, with doors made out of corrugated metal; the tents were set up underneath a pair of streetlights they''d somehow managed to get working. Hanging from one of the lights was an NCR g: a two headed bear on a white background, standing above the words "New California Republic," written proudly in gold. One of the bear heads was looking at a red star, and a red stripe covered the bottom of the g.


    The metal door on one of the tents opened up, and an NCR soldier stepped out to greet me. He was wearing heavier looking armor than the corporal at the gatepost, with a chest piece that covered most of his fatigues. Instead of a helmet, he was wearing a dark green beret, with a gold bear pin. He walked towards me, and held his hand out to greet me.


    "I''m Lieutenant Hayes of the New California Republic Army, 5th Battalion, 1st Company." I shook his hand.


    "Sheason Fisher. I''m er, a courier." Not quite as impressive, I''ll admit.


    "Nice to meet you, Mr. Fisher. What''s your business in Primm?"


    "I''m trying to find the men who shot me," I replied simply, pointing at the scar on my right cheek. "My only lead is the Mojave Express outpost in town. All I''d need is fifteen minutes in town to find any information I can. Thirty, tops. But I understand you aren''t letting anyone in or out, right?" He nodded.


    "We were sent out here to hold back the tide of convicts from the correctional facility. But the problem is, the convicts are better armed and organized than our intel suggested. We''ve cornered and cut off the small force in town, so they can''t get reinforcements, but I''ve lost some good men, and I can''t spare any more to make a push to drive them back."


    "Sorry to hear that," I said diplomatically. Honestly, I couldn''t care less. "I am curious, though why are you telling me all this?"


    "You said you''re a courier, correct?" I nodded in response. He continued. "I''ll let you into Primm, in exchange for a favor. I need some more reinforcements, but my men and I only have short-wave radios, and like I said, I can''t spare anyone to make the trip to the Mojave Outpost," he reached into one of the pouches on his belt, and pulled out a folded envelope. "All I would need from you is to deliver this reinforcement request to Major Knight. He''s in charge of requisitions at the outpost. Think you can handle that?"


    "Yeah," I nodded, as he handed me the envelope. "I think I can handle that." I put the envelope into my jacket. "Truth be told, I needed to head to that outpost for supplies anyway."


    "Then we have an agreement. Be careful, though  most of the convicts have holed up in the Bison Steve, turned the ce into a bloody fortress. I''d stay out of there if you want to get out of town in one piece. Good luck." I nodded, and as I walked away, I heard him speak into his radio. "Private, there''s a courier heading into Primm. Let him pass."


    For a town supposedly taken over by convicts, Primm was really quiet. I hadn''t met a single person, convict or otherwise, after crossing the overpass and heading down the main street. I still had Roscoe drawn, just in case. I could see my destination  a square, two-story building with "MOJAVE" on the front and "EXPRESS" on the side written in big (but unlit) neon lights.


    As I approached the building, I saw the first signs of violence. There was a body slumped up against the side of the building. As I got closer, I could see a stter of dried blood on the wall at head height, and a trail leading down to the deceased man''s head. Something didn''t feel right about this. I looked around, suspecting the body might be bait for a trap, but I couldn''t see anyone. I even checked my Pip Boy  one of the features I''d discovered was apass that had a built in "friend-or-foe" radar (how it determined what a friend or a foe was, I didn''t know)  but even that turned up empty.


    I knelt down to get a good look at him. His left eye was missing, reced by a bloody hole. This didn''t look recent; the body was cold, and the blood had dried up to be almost ck, which probably meant he''d been dead at least for a couple of days. And then I recoiled, not because of the wound but because I recognized who he was. This was Daniel Wyand, a courier like me. I''d met him before, two years ago, when we crossed paths during a job in Shady Sands. He was a really nice guy st time I saw him, we''d shared a drink when the deal we''d both been hired to do went tits up, and both of us ended up without a client.


    That was when I noticed that he still held something in his right hand  a piece of paper. Gingerly, I worked it free from his hands (how could a dead man have a grip that tight?), and took a look at it.


    <em><strong>INSTRUCTIONS</strong></em>


    <em>Deliver the package at the north entrance to the Vegas Strip, by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package, and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express agency in Primm.</em>


    <em>Bonus onpletion: 250 caps.</em>


    <em><strong>MANIFEST</strong></em>


    <em>This package contains:</em>


    <em>Two (2) Oversized Dice,posed of fuzzy material</em>


    <em><strong>CONTRACT PENALTIES</strong></em>


    <em>You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until the delivery isplete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated toplete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver to the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary remation teams. Mojave Express is not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as a result of said remation efforts.</em>


    I had to read over the delivery order several times, to make sure I''d read it right. Then I reached into my pocket, pulling out my own delivery order, andparing them. The instructions were exactly the same, the payment was exactly the same the only difference between these two orders was the package itself.


    Something wasn''t right. Something was seriously not right. I took another look at Daniel, and then at the Mojave Express building. If I was going to find anything, inside was my best bet, so I put both delivery orders away, and carefully opened the door. Nobody was inside. Two things on the counter caught my eye, however.


    The first was a veryrge metal ball. It looked like a robot, with a reinforced speaker grille on the front, transmitters and antennaeing off it, and aser? There was a license te bolted to the side, and I could tell that it was there in a futile attempt to fix some kind of problem. Most of the letters on the license te had either been worn or shot off, so the only thing left was "ED-E." My curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled back the license te to get a look inside. It was broken, obviously  some servos and gyroscopes looked like they needed either recalibration or recement. It looked advanced, sure, but a lot of theponents appeared to be, at the very least, simr toponents in my car. I could''ve probably had it up and running in five minutes. But I left it where it was. It wasn''t mine.


    The second thing I noticed was a simple note. I unfolded it, and gave it a look.


    <em>Ruby: We''ve taken refuge in the Vikki & Vance. Get there as soon as you can.</em>


    <em>-Johnson</em>


    I knocked on the front door of the Vikki & Vance casino, checking around to see if there were any convicts. A panel on the door slid open, and I was greeted by a pair of eyes.


    "Who are you? What do you want?" a voice growled at me through the eye slot.


    "I''m a courier. I need to speak with Johnson Nash." The eye slot mmed shut, and I heard a muffled voice from inside yell: "Johnson! Courier to see you!" There was a pause. "He don''t look like one ''o them bandits!" Another pause, and then the eye slot opened.


    "Alright, Johnson says to let you in. But I got my eye on you. Pull any funny business, an'' I''ll perforate you." And with that, he opened the door, mming it shut and locking it as soon as I stepped inside. It was a dusty casino, with a weak sort of orange lighting. In the center of the building was an ancient car, riddled with bullet holes (the "death car" exhibit), and a Protectron robot stood nearby, wearing a cowboy hat.


    An old man walked up to me; he had a dark, wrinkled face that almost looked like leather, a weary expression, and short, very curly grey hair. He was wearing a grey work shirt with dirty brown overalls. He had a cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth that he didn''t even bother to remove while he talked.


    "I don''t know what it was brought you to Primm, youngster, but you might wanna rethink your ns. Whole town''s gone to hell." He let loose a puff of smoke from his nostrils when he finished.


    "You Johnson Nash?" I asked. He nodded.


    "Yep. Husband to Ruby Nash. Lived in Primm goin'' on eight years now, thick and thin. I''m a trader, primarily, for what it''s worth with things like they are."


    "But you run the Mojave Express outpost in town, too, right?"


    "Yeah, Jimmy told me you was a courier when he let you in. I don''t got any work for you right now, I''m sorry to say. We kinda got bigger problems." I shook my head, and reached for the delivery order.


    "No, you don''t understand. I was supposed to deliver a package and it was taken from me. I thought you might be able to help me find who would try and take it, if I showed you this." I handed him the delivery order, and he studied it carefully, a look of dawningprehensioning over his face.


    "Oh," he said, as if he suddenly understood everything. "So you''re talking about one of <em>them</em> packages. That just had strange written all over it, but we couldn''t turn down the caps." Suddenly, I had a sinking feeling in my gut.


    "What was strange about it?"


    "That cowboy robot had us hire six couriers. Each was carrying something a little different. A pair of dice, a chess piece, that kind of stuff. Last word I had from the office, it looked like payment had been received for the other five jobs. Guess it was just your chip that didn''t make it. The first deadbeat we hired to do the job cancelled. Hope a sandstorm from the Divide skins him alive. Well, that''s where you came in, I guess." Something that he said earlier caught my attention, and I decided to pursue it.


    "Cowboy robot?" I took a look around the casino, and my eyes returned to the Protectron with the cowboy hat. Someone walked by it, and it turned with a shudder. Even from where I was at the front of the casino I could hear its voice pletely free of any kind of emotion or inflection) say <strong>HOW-DY PART-NER. YEE-HAW.</strong> I pointed at it. "Do you mean that one over there?" Johnson shook his head.


    "Nope. Different fe. Bigger. Had himself a face on a screen, and he talked more like you or me." I paused. No no, he couldn''t mean could he? I shook it off. It couldn''t be Victor. The way the people in Goodsprings talked about him, it sounded like he''d been living there for 15 years, and had never left. Instead of pursuing details about the robot, I decided to ask about the other courier.


    "The other guy  the first courier you hired for the job. You said he cancelled?"


    "Yeah, got this look when he saw you next down on the courier list. His expression turned right around, asked me if your name was for real. I said, sure asck ''o rain, that''s the name I''d been handed. Then he turned down the job, just like that. I asked if he was sure, it was good money. Nope. Let ''Courier Six'' carry the package, that''s what he said. Then he just up and walked out."


    "Do you know who he was? Where he went?" I asked. Things were getting stranger by the minute, but maybe the original courier knew who shot me.


    "No idea. Sounds like you two had a history for him to act like that. And turn down the money, too. Maybe he saw trouble in that package of yours. Maybe he thought your name was bad luck. Not for me to say." Or more likely, I thought to myself, he knew someone was after the chip and didn''t want to get shot in the face. Either way, I could tell the original courier was a dead end.


    "Look, back to what I was asking: some men stole my package, and left me for dead," I said, to try and grab his attention. "A man in a checkered suit and some thugs. Do you know if they came this way?" He tapped his chin, and a bit of ash fell off his cigarette to the ground.


    "Well now you mention it, a few nights back one of the townies was out scavenging for supplies. He said he saw a fe in a daisy suite through with some ''o them Great Khan misfits. They was talkin'' about a chip. If you wanna find ''em, your best bet is goin'' to be talkin'' to Deputy Beagle. Since they came to town he was keepin'' a good bit of notes on ''em. He may have heard where they were going. Only well, there''s a sorta hitch." What now?


    "Hitch?"


    "Well, he was skulkin'' round the Bison Steve when those thugs who call ''emselves Powder Gangsters or whatever rolled into town. That was a couple''a days ago, and I ain''t seen him since."


    That was bad news. I remembered what Hayes had said  the Powder Gangers had turned the Bison Steve into a fortress. I doubted that even with Roscoe, and the enhanced uracy of V.A.T.S. that I''d stand much of a chance on my own. I needed more firepower. And that was when a thought crept into my head, followed shortly by a smile.


    "Hey, Johnson? About that broken robot of yours"


    When I stepped into the Bison Steve, the little round robot I''d found in the Mojave Express outpost (who I''d decided to call "ED-E" after the license te) hovered in the air beside me. ED-E emitted a soft whirr and a few chirps as it floated along. I scanned the inside, but didn''t see anyone. Then again, the lighting inside was so poor, I could barely see anything. There were a few overturned tables in front of me, acting like barricades.


    ED-E and I moved forward. I came to a doorframe, and peeked my head around the corner. Off in the distance, down the hall, I could see one of the Powder Gangers facing a corner; from the sound, I could tell he was relieving himself. I turned to ED-E.


    "Well," I whispered. "Let''s hope thatser of yours still works."


    Seemingly taking that as a cue, the robot beeped and chirped as if in response, and then some very loud music  like the trumpets and drums you would hear in a military march  burst forth from the speaker in front. It zoomed around the corner, heading straight for the convict, who had stopped pissing long enough to pick up his rifle.


    Well, so much for stealth.


    With a sh of light, and a sound which could only be described as ZOWNTCH!, the robot fired itsser at the convict''s rifle. The Powder Ganger dropped the now glowing hot weapon immediately, giving me the perfect opening tond two V.A.T.S. shots in his chest. He hit the back wall, and copsed forward onto the ground, dead.


    ED-E floated back to me, a triumphant sounding trumpet song ying from its speaker.


    "Uh Good job?" I offered. ED-E beeped cheerfully. Any sense of congrattions or victory was short lived, however; all around, I could hear the authoritative sounds of people yelling and shouting orders, apanied by the sound of boots tromping through the hotel closing in on our position.


    There were two ways I could go at this point: straight ahead and around a corner, or towards a nearby door. I rushed for the door  and cursed when I realized it was locked. I banged my shoulder against it at least twice, to try and force it, but it didn''t budge. ED-E started ying that same marching music from before. Going for broke, I kicked hard against the door with all my strength. The lock broke off, and the door swung inwards.


    "He''s in here!" I heard a voice say. I spun around in time to see one of the convictsing around the other corner, and then get hit by a ncing shot from ED-E''sser. Two more came around the corner, and I fired a few shots in their direction, backing up into the open door. ED-E fired aser into one, hitting him right in the middle of his face. He glowed white hot for half a second, and then crumbled into a smoking pile of ash. The ganger next to him ducked back behind the wall out of sight.


    For half a second, I thought ED-E and I might actually be able to take them all on and then a nearby couch erupted into mes. I flinched, but looked up just in time to see another gangere around the corner carrying a methrower! The lobby lit up by the stream of superheated napalm. I ducked into the hallway, ED-E having already flown in, and mmed the door against the heat. Without a lock, it wouldn''t hold him for long; I just needed some time to figure out a way to deal with him.


    I ran around the corner and down the long hallway, ED-E floating just behind me. There was another door at the end of the hall; I heard the other door behind me splinter. I tried the door and cursed my luck  this one was locked, too. I turned just in time to see the methrower ganger round the corner.


    I had one chance, but only if V.A.T.S. was with me. I took careful aim and tried to hit the fuel tank on his back. One of the bullets was a little too high and hit the wall behind him; another bullet was a little too low and grazed his shoulder; thest bullet hit the tank, but it was only a ncing shot, and deflected off into the ceiling. I let loose a very loud, violent exmation.


    ZOWNTCH!


    The fuel tank glowed white hot, but rather than disintegrate into ash, it exploded in a massive fireball, showering the end of the hall in me. The light in the middle of the hall shattered in a shower of ss and white phosphor, and a wave of heat washed over me. As soon as the dust settled, and I looked at the end of the hall I could see all that was left of the ganger: ming chunks of meat and a bloody stain. I was sure my mouth was hanging wide open, while I just stared at ED-E, which floated happily in the air next to me.


    A triumphant sounding trumpet song yed from ED-E''s speaker.


    I opened the door to the hotel''s kitchen carefully. ED-E and I had run into a few more gangers after the one with the methrower, but it seemed like they''d gotten the message. I''d figured out how to signal to ED-E to be more cautious, and not just shoot everything in sight. Even so, we''d only run into two more  maybe. The rest seemed to be hiding.


    Inside the kitchen, however, there were no gangers  just a single solitary figure on his knees. He looked to be about thirty, with feathery blonde hair, and oddly soft features  something you really didn''t see on people in the wastnd, much less on a man. His hands were bound in front of him.


    "I do not suppose you came here to rescue me?" He said, looking up at me, eyeing Roscoe. "I would cross my fingers but my hands are numb."


    "You must be Deputy Beagle," I said, motioning for ED-E to watch the door.


    "Why, yes. Yes I am. Pleasure to meet you. As you can probably see, I am in a bit of a predicament here. I would be most appreciative if you would set me free." I don''t know if it was the nonchnt tone in his voice, but for some reason this ''Deputy'' seemed incredibly shady. Even so, he was the best lead I had.


    "Way I hear it, you have information on a guy in a checkered suit who passed through here a couple of days ago, with some Khans." He nodded.


    "Indeed I do, good sir, and I would be thrilled to share that information with you as soon as I am released from captivity." I narrowed my eyes. This guy was trying to y me, I could tell, but he might have information I needed. I looked around the kitchen, and my eyes fell on a nearby serrated knife. It was dirty, and still had a bit of dried blood on it. I put Roscoe back in his holster, grabbing the knife and kneeling down to Beagle''s level so I could talk to him eye to eye.


    "Alright. I''ll set you free." His face lit up.


    "Oh, that''s just marvelous! I -" before he got a chance to continue, I held the knife close to his face. He shut up instantly.


    "I want to make one thing perfectly clear, Beagle. If you try and run away without telling me what I need to know, I <strong>will</strong> find you, and I <strong>will</strong> gut you with this knife. Clear?" He started sweating bullets.


    "Oh! Why, uh, of course! I would never let you fight my kidnappers with my help. Uh, without it! I meant without it! You just lead the way!"


    I cut the ropes around his wrists with a snap.


    "Well! That was quite the adventure!" Beagle eximed as the two of us walked into the Vikki & Vance. "We taught those convicts a thing or two, didn''t we?" I just sort of stared at him for a minute. We hadn''t run into any Powder Gangers on the way back out. Turns out, he wasn''t shady  he was just a coward. I sighed.


    "Whatever. Look  deal''s a deal. I set you free, you tell me about the man in the checkered coat. What do you know?"


    "Ahh, yes. My memory is much clearer, now that I am free from my bondage." There was something odd about the way he talked. I couldn''t put my finger on it. "I was skul  er, I mean, performing recon, gathering information on some of the Powder Gangers, when some Great Khans arrived in town with your friend in the suit."


    "He ain''t my friend," I said with a re.


    "Well, yes. I gathered as much, since I heard them talking about some delivery they took from a courier. That must have been you then?" I nodded. "They said they would be heading through Nipton to Novac to meet a contact there. And that is all I know, I swear."


    Well, it wasn''t much. But it was more than I had 20 minutes ago when I entered the town. I flipped the knife around in my hands, and presented it to Beagle, hilt first. He flinched as I twirled it so close to him.


    "Take it," I said. "A memento of your ''glorious escape," I said with a smirk. "C''mon ED-E. Let''s get out of here."


    The robot chirped happily and floated behind me out the door.

 Chapter 3: Whiskey Rose

    Chapter 3: Whiskey Rose


    <em>You''re listening to Radio New Vegas. I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas. You know, I feel something magic in the air tonight  and I''m not just talking about the gamma radiation! It''s time for some news. Unconfirmed reports say NCR''s General Lee Oliver may have uprooted from his post at Camp McCarran in order to be present at Hoover Dam. NCR sources have said that holding the dam against Caesar''s Legion has be their main strategic priority and this move would not be unexpected. These headlines were brought to you by Vault 21. Everything''s better when you experience it in a Vault. Got a song for you right now that''s about a man that''s cold on the exterior, but deep down, you know he''s got a good heart, and his name is Johnny Guitar.</em>


    It was morning when I finally set off from the outskirts of Primm towards the NCR outpost. ED-E made a good watchdog while I got some sleep in my Corvega though, it was odd waking up to the sounds ofser sts discharging, and very loud, oddly militaristic marching tunes. Not bad, just different.


    The morning was actually pretty nice. The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains to the east, bathing the desert in a warm, golden glow. There was a refreshing sort of cool crispness to the air, holding out as long as it could before the sun got hot enough to burn it away. There were a smattering of clouds, and the sky was a rich, vibrant blue  the kind of color you just didn''t see anymore at least, not anywhere else.


    Maybe I was appreciating the view because I was still just happy to be alive, but to tell you the truth: the Mojave Wastnd is an okay ce to live. I''ve been around, and seen tons of ces in the wastes. New Reno, Circle Junction, Shady Sands, Vault City, and The Hub, just to name a few I''ve even been as far north as Montana, but that''s another story entirely. The point is this: most of those ces all have generally the same problem. They''re all shitholes. A few ces are nicer shitholes than others, but you don''t have to look all that hard to find ces that are truly awful, or even terrifying.


    ces like The Glow, which is still so full of radiation 200 years after The War that you can''t even get near it. Then there''s the Boneyard, where the only things you''ll find are the twisted metal frames of Los Angeles skyscrapers and thousands upon thousands of human skeletons, sh fried in theirst moment of living. And let''s not forget New Reno where the sky is <em>green</em>, for some goddamn reason When you realize that the whole world  what''s left of it  is just one horror show after another, you can learn to appreciate a ce like the Mojave.


    Maybe that''s why I took the job. I just wanted to see a ce that wasn''t as bad as everywhere else.


    It''s just too bad the price of admission was getting shot.


    "Caravan, citizen, pilgrim, or" Major Knight asked me from behind his desk. Knight was an NCR officer like Hayes, distinguished by a green beret (which was hanging on a coat rack behind his desk). Unlike Hayes, however, he seemed tock the discipline of a frontlinebat soldier; he alsocked the armor. He was wearing a tan cored shirt, a simple nametag over one pocket, a few ribbons over the other, and a dark green tie that hung suspiciously loose around his neck. It was difficult to get a bead on how old he was, mostly because I couldn''t tell if the lines on his face (he had many under and around his eyes, around his mouth, along his cheeks, etc) were from age or stress.


    "Courier," I said simply, sitting across from him, my arms folded across my chest. I was surprised and kind of amused when he actually wrote it down. He looked up and exined.


    "Just need something for the log book, keeping tabs on traffic through the Outpost although mostly just in, not out these days. Now, what about your robot?" His pencil was at the ready. I blinked, not understanding.


    "ED-E? What about it?"


    "I''m going to need to put something in the log book about the robot as well. What''s his business?" I tried to stifle augh.


    "You need to  why?" I asked, still somewhat confused at something that, to me, seemed absurd. He sighed.


    "Do you know how many sentient robots I''ve had to check through this outpost in the rtively short time I''ve been stationed here?" Before I could get a chance to offer up an answer, he continued. "13. After the fifth, I decided to ask about every robot, just in case." Fair enough, I thought.


    "I don''t know," I said honestly. "I repaired ED-E in Primm, and based on its actions so far, it seems to have some basic algorithms to simte thought, but I don''t think it''s actually sentient. Hell, I don''t even think it can talk. I''ve only heard beeps so far." He seemed to ept that.


    "Alright," he scribbled something in the log book, and looked back up at me. "What is your purpose and intended destination once leaving the Outpost?"


    "My destination is back in the Mojave, towards Novac" I said, reaching into my jacket and pulling out the note from Hayes. "My purpose here is to just to pick up some supplies, and to act as courier for this."


    "Well, we can certainly help you with the supplies, just so long as you fill out the work orders and sign for the parts first." I nodded, well aware of NCR red tape. Knight took the note from me, opened and unfolded it, and skimmed through the documents. He let out a weary sigh, and I could almost swear that I saw a few more wrinkles materialize on his face.


    "I should have known Hayes'' unit was in trouble. I didn''t think it was bad enough that he''d fill out an official reinforcement request, though," He set the papers down on his desk, and looked at me with a pained expression he tried his best to hide. "I''d like to help  but we can''t spare any more units. We have to maintain a minimum headcount at this outpost. Orders from the West."


    I rubbed my temples, utterly exhausted with hearing NCR soldiersmenting their inability to do anything because of orders. Part of me  a big part in fact  wanted to just get up, say "Well, sorry to hear that. I''ll be leaving now!" and walk out. I''d fulfilled my part of the bargain with Hayes''. What happened after the letter was delivered was not my concern, nor should it have been.


    And then I thought about the people who lived in Primm. They seemed decent enough I couldn''t let Deputy Beagle be the onlyw there. That would just be cruel and unusual punishment, inflicting his ineptitude on them. At least if the NCR moved in  if only to clear out the escaped convicts  then Primm would be better off for it.


    "Do the troops have to be from this outpost?" I finally said, an idea quickly forming in my head. Knight looked at me with a raised eyebrow.


    "What do you mean?"


    "I was under the impression Hayes was only resorting to a written request, asking for reinforcements from this outpost, because his unit only has short-wave radios left. Do you have any sort of long rangemunication here?" I already knew the answer, but I was trying to get him to actually think, as opposed to just using orders as an excuse to do nothing.


    "Of course. This outpost functions as amunication ry hub between NCR forces in the Mojave and the West. What are you getting at?" I sighed. This was like trying to get a brick wall to think for itself. I spelled it out as simply as I could, speaking very slowly just in case.


    "I bet a resourceful guy like you can use any one of the radios here at this outpost, find some unassigned unit on patrol somewhere, and point them in the direction of Primm. Hayes will get the reinforcements he needs, Primm will be free of convicts, and the outpost will continue to maintain the needed headcount to satisfy your orders. Everyone''s happy!" Knight blinked a few times, almost like he was trying to process this idea.


    "That That''s a good idea," he said, conceding the point. I pped my hands together probably with a bit more enthusiasm than I should have.


    "Take it then, it''s yours. I give you permission to use it like you thought of it," I said, d he finally got the message. "Now, if you''ll excuse me," I got up from the chair, and made for the door. "Where''s the bar? I need a drink." Knight looked perplexed, and looked at his watch.


    "A drink? But it''s only 10 in the morning."


    I sighed again, vowing silently to make it a double.


    The Mojave Outpost was nothing special. It was just a few squat, one story buildings on the east side of the I-15, on a rtively t part of the mountain range south of Primm. The buildings were surrounded on all sides by a chain link fence, and a few sandbag dugouts. The north part of the fence had a red sign; "NCR RANGER OUTPOST" written on the top and "MOJAVE" written on the bottom in white paint, with an NCR g hung in the middle.


    I can only imagine the reason the NCR picked this particr bit of nowhere was because the west side of the I-15 here had the remains of a pre-war toll booth. It was rusted, the paint was almostpletely peeled, and a few broken cars littered the road under the disused toll. Underneath the sign that said "Prepare to stop" was my parked Corvega, being dutifully guarded by ED-E, who was happily floating in the air right above the car.


    Completely eclipsing the outpost, however, was the monument: a massive statue in the middle of the I-15, at least 20 or 30 feet tall if not more, made entirely out of scrap metal. It depicted two giant men, shaking hands. I was not interested in the statue, however; I was more interested in the contents of the outpost cantina, which sat adjacent to the barracks. I''d get a drink (or three), I''d pick up some more supplies, and then I''d head out to Novac by way of Nipton.


    Before I could slip into the cantina for a quick drink, a loud, shrill whistle cut through the air. I looked around the outpost  I didn''t see anyone at ground level. The whistle sounded again, and I looked up. On the roof of the barracks was a woman wearing a cowboy hat, motioning for me toe up to the roof with one hand, and carrying a veryrge scoped rifle in the other. Normally, I would''ve ignored her and continued into the cantina, but I''ve learned from experience that when someone with a high powered sniper rifle wants to have a word with you, it''s probably for the best to at least see what they want.


    When I made my way up the nk that led to the roof, the woman had gone back to sitting in her chair, her feet propped on a few sandbags on the edge of the roof. She faced north-east in her chair, towards the Mojave, and was directly beneath a few metal pipes and camougedting, creating a sort of awning against the desert sun. Next to her was a table; on it was a pair of binocrs, a half finished cup of coffee, and an ashtray with a still smoking cigarette ced on the ashtray''s rim. She turned to look at me from beneath her cowboy hat, but I couldn''t see her eyes behind her mirrored sunsses. I could tell immediately that this was no rank-and-file NCR soldier; she was a Ranger. I had a lot more respect for Rangers, mostly because the ones I''d met in the past could actually think for themselves  and because they seemed to know when to follow orders, and when regtions could go hang.


    "Hey there," she said, taking a sip from her coffee. "You''re that courier with the car, right?" She motioned to my Corvega  ED-E still floating silently above it, circling the area  with her coffee cup.


    "Yeah," I said simply. "What of it?"


    "I have a job that someone with a car would be perfect for. Interested?" She asked.


    "What''s the pay?" As much as I wasn''t really all that interested in any job other than finding the man who shot me, I conceded silently to myself that I needed more caps. Sure, I had a decent supply in that hiddenpartment in the trunk of my car, but I''d put that there for emergencies only. I needed some every day spending money.


    "The pay? The pay is a good goddamn thanks from the heart of the Republic!" She said with well practiced enthusiasm. I said nothing, and she turned her head back to look towards me with a grin. She chuckled.


    "Don''t worry, I''m just shittin'' ya with the NCR line. Mock if you like, but its done wonders for morale around here. Especially since President Kimball keeps saying ''getting shot at is its own damn reward'' every chance he gets." She scoffed, and took a drag from her cigarette. "Do this job for me, though, I''ll do what I can. People around here know I hate most everyone, so if I put in a word for you, that''s gold."


    "I''d much rather have caps," I said honestly. "But alright, I''ll hear you out. What do I call you?"


    "Ghost," she said simply. "My callsign. That''s all you need to know ''bout my name, at least."


    "Ok, Ghost, what''s the problem?"


    "I think there''s trouble in Nipton. There''s no traffic from there on the roads. I can exin that away easily enough, but the smoke from the town I can''t."


    "Smoke?" I asked. She handed me the binocrs, and pointed to a spot in the valley below.


    "Here, use these. 12 miles, due east."


    I looked through the binocrs, and followed the path of the Nipton highway, until I found what Ghost was pointing at. It was far enough off in the distance that I couldn''t really make it out all that clearly, even with the binocrs, but there were a few small squares I assumed were buildings, and a few dark blotches that was probably smoke. While I looked at the town, she continued.


    "I''m sure it''s been hit. What I need to know is if there''s anyone from the town who survived. It might be Powder Gangers with all the smoke in the air, but it could just as easily be one of the local raider gangs, like the Jackals, or the Vipers, or even the Fiends  but I can''t imagine what they''d be doing this far south. If there''s anybody left, they''d be in the Nipton town hall. Go there, check it out, and let me know what you find."


    I considered what she said for a moment, and decided to voice a question that had been nagging me since she mentioned it.


    "Why do you need someone with a car?"


    "I''d prefer someone with a car because you''ll be able to get there and back in about an hour, rather than half a day. I''d go myself, but if I left my perch for too long, not only would Jackson tear me a new one, but I just know that''d be the specific moment a pack of ghouls woulde knockin''. And I can''t send a scout to check on it, because -"


    "You have to maintain a minimum headcount at the Outpost  orders from the West?" I cut her off, helpfully. She justughed.


    "Heard the line before, have you? Alright, who told you  Knight or Jackson?"


    "Knight."


    "That figures," she said, taking another sip from her coffee. "You didn''t hear this from me, but Knight is way too soft for military life. He''s a bit too fabulous, if you catch my meaning." I bristled.


    "About the job," I said, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "What exactly do you want me to do?"


    "Just eyes and ears, that''s all. Head there and poke around a bit, find out what you can, ande back for your payment. But if there really is something wrong,e back immediately. I don''t want you getting killed for this."


    "Wouldn''t dream of it," I said. "Alright, if you supply the caps, I''ll get you some intel." She nodded, and gave me a half wave, half pseudo-salute.


    "Mind yourself on the nk going down."


    When I opened up the door to the cantina, I was hit in the face by the distinctive smell of stale alcohol mixed with cigarette smoke. The inside wasn''t too brightly lit, but the wooden shutters were closed to keep out the sun. The dust and smoke swirled around the slowly spinning fans on the ceiling. There was a poster behind the bar (NCR trooper: YOU bring DEMOCRACY to thisnd!) next to shelves of booze, a bored looking bartender, and a girl in a cowboy hat sitting at the corner of the bar, with a bottle of whiskey beside her. And it was actual whiskey, mind  thebel read "Olde Royale Premium Whiskey," rather than a bottle with a piece of tape that had "whisky" scrawled on the side like in Goodsprings.


    I sat down a few stools away from the girl in the cowboy hat, and ordered a ss of whiskey. I don''t know why, but for some reason the girl caught my attention. The rattan cowboy hat on her head had a few holes in the brim, a ck band, and it covered a head of red hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had a shotgun slung across her back and wore a brown suede jacket, a pink and white id shirt with ck buttons, ck gloves, torn jeans, and a pair of old cowboy boots that were almost as scuffed as my own. There was a strange looking diamond shaped pendant that hung around her neck.


    I must have been staring, because she looked up at me with a pair of piercing grey eyes, downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, poured herself another ss, and said to me: "Lookin'' for trouble?"


    I looked away, just as my whiskey arrived, and decided to focus on that instead.


    "No just looking around."


    "Well, you keep those eyes up''n turnin''  or I''ll set ''em spinnin''," she said, downing the drink she''d poured seconds earlier, and refilling the ss. "Got no time for gawkers or anyone lookin'' for somethin'' I ain''t sellin''."


    I nodded, but I had to wonder  where the hell was she putting all that stuff? I took a drink myself. "Surprised you can see me from that deep in the bottle" I said with a smirk. She justughed.


    "Hah! Deep? Ain''t deep by half. Closed down the bar yesterday gonna close it again today. Rinse''n repeat. Drinkin'' to forget, but it''s only gettin'' me pissed instead. Whiskey''s always got my temper up  now more''n ever." She downed another ss. "Drinkin'' used to cause all sorts of trouble back West  before I punched enough people, that is, and they all learnt toy low when the whiskey hit."


    "What are you trying to forget?" I asked.


    "Hmph. Lost my caravan headin'' north the driver burned t''ash. An'' the fuckers that hit it didn''t even take the cargo, just burned that, too," She lifted her ss, but before she took another drink, she looked at me and said "Y''know, you''re the first person to ask about that." I thought about what she was describing while she downed another drink. Burned to ash could mean fire but it could also mean energy weapons.


    "Doesn''t sound like raiders" I mused out loud, half to myself.


    "My guess is Legion," she said, taking a drink. "They''ve been tryin'' to cut NCR supply lines, and this fuckin'' outpost is proof. Got us locked up tighter''n a New Vegas virgin. No caravans in, out, and just try arguin'' with Jackson about it. ''Roads aren''t safe,'' he says. No shit, you washed-out ol'' fuckup! I didn''t need a goddamn Brotherhood Scribe to tell me that!"


    "Who''s Jackson?" I asked honestly, taking another drink. I''d heard Ghost mention the name, but I still didn''t know who he was.


    "NCR officer, trooper, ranger, whatever. Jackson runs this ce. This fucking outpost it''s like a brahmin drive gone wrong. Supposed to be a gate north, but youe here, you get caught in the pen. Better to head back home. If you don''t have a gun an'' a will, don''t matter much what you do when you reach here, except stare at that fuckin'' monument outside."


    "The monument?" I asked. "What about it?"


    "Don''t even try''n tell me you missed iting in. It''s like NCR showing its dick to all the East! If the Republic put as much effort into protectin'' the East as they put into those two asinine giants outside, then they''d be worth that monument. Statues of two men shaking hands ''n covered in blood don''t seem to be nothin'' to brag about."


    "You know, I saw a lot of scrap metal, but I don''t think I saw any blood." She scoffed and poured herself another ss.


    "I''m speakin'' figurative, y''know? Isn''t any blood on their damn hands. ''Course, when Caesares walkin'' through here, there''ll be blood f''real. An'' after the blood dries in the sun, he''ll melt that piece of Jet-induced sculpture down, an'' reshape it into a bull which by my reckonin'' is makin'' up for a deficiency on his part. But no matter what the state of his pecker, he''s sure givin'' the West a good fuckin''." I chuckled a bit. I liked this girl. She certainly had a way with words, at least. Not exactly the most refined conversation I''ve ever had, but certainly the most entertaining in recent memory.


    "So what''s that damn thing supposed to be anyway?" I said, taking another drink.


    "One''s a Nevada ranger, an'' one''s an NCR trooper. Supposed to represent unification of West an'' East or some such idealistic shit. As far as those two iron lovebirds go, they''ve got more spine than you''ll ever see in a year from the NCR government."


    "So, why are you here?"


    "I''m here, ''cause whiskey an'' me are ol'' friends. Keeps me goin'' when times get rough. Like now. Got me into the caravan business y''know  had to start transportin'' water instead of liquor, though. If I hadn''t switched over, I''d just end evr''y one of my trips with nothin'' but ss bottles rattlin'' on the back of the brahmin." As if to punctuate the point, she downed yet another ss.


    "Actually I meant, why are you here at the outpost?" She looked up at me curiously.


    "What''cha mean?"


    "Well, it''s like what you said earlier  it''s the people without a gun and a will that are stuck here. I can see the gun strapped to your back, and you certainly seem to have the will." Or maybe just the mouth, but I decided not to mention that for my own safety. "So what are you doing here?"


    For the first time since I''d stepped in the bar, she''d stopped drinking whiskey. She just sort of stared at me with a depressed look on her face, and then she looked down into her empty ss.


    "I I dunno. For a while, I was stuck here, ''cause my caravan papers were keepin'' me here. Technically, I was still owner of Cassidy Caravans, even though it was nothin'' but ash, so I couldn''t leave. But then, a few days ago, this runner from th'' Crimson Caravanes down here, with an offer from Alice McLafferty. At first, I told him to just fuck off. Even times bein'' what they are, I wasn''t lookin'' to sell, even for all the whiskey in Reno. But that offer had a lot ''o zeroes attached to it, ''an ev''ryone in the caravan business knows Alice McLafferty''d be good for a deal like that."


    I nodded. "Yeah, I know what it''s like. When you need the money, sometimes you just gotta let go of the past so you can live to see the future." I''ve had to let go of a lot of my past, I thought to myself.


    "Tradin'' my name for a goddamn slip of paper" She said that with a tone of utter disgust. I couldn''t tell if she was disgusted with herself for having done it, or disgusted with Crimson Caravan for giving her the offer. "Just doesn''t seem right, you know? I mean, hell, I bet my pa would be spinnin'' in his grave, wherever the ol'' bastard ended up, if he learned I sold our name for anything. So, I guess, technically, I don''t got nothin'' keepin'' me here anymore. Leastaways, not paperwork. But I dunno what to do or where to go, now that my caravan is gone. So I''ve just sort of stayed here, spending the money I got from my caravan on whiskey."


    The two of us just sort of sat in silence for a minute. The only sound in the cantina came from the slowly spinning fan des above us. Finally I decided to break the silence.


    "You could always visit your caravan, pay your respects." She looked up at me quizzically, and then seemed to consider that for a moment.


    "Yeah, I s''pose but its miles to the north, past raider territory. It''d take days just to get up there. Fuck that shit, the caravan ain''t mine anymore, ain''t my problem." She started to pour herself another ss.


    "I could give you a ride, if you need it," I told her. She stopped pouring and deadpanned.


    "Are youin'' on ta me? Cuz I already told you, that shit ain''t gonna work."


    "No, I''m serious. My Corvega''s parked right outside. I''m gonna be heading up the 95 towards Novac, because of some business I gotta take care of, but if you want to ride shotgun, I can give you a lift." I told her earnestly. To be honest, I don''t know why I was offering. Maybe I felt sorry for her. Maybe I felt like she was a kindred spirit  someone like me just trying to make an honest living who got fucked over because the world is cruel. Hell, maybe I just wanted thepany, and someone to talk to.


    I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she stared at me, mouth open and eyeing me in disbelief. Eventually, she shook her head, shrugged her shoulders, and said "What the hell? Why the fuck not." She held up her ss to me. "Cheers."


    "Cheers," I replied, clinking our sses together. "My name''s Sheason, by the way. I gotta pick up some supplies first, but when you''re ready, just head to the car guarded by the floating metal ball." I paused, then added "Oh, and we will have toe back here for a few minutes after checking out Nipton  that sniper on the roof, Ghost, hired me for a job, but it shouldn''t take too long." She nodded. I dropped a few caps on the bar to pay for my whiskey.


    "Yeah I should probably close out my tab here. Which may take a while." She took a final drink, then looked up at me and said "The name''s Cass. Rose of Sharon Cassidy."


    "Nice to meet you, Rose -" I said as I got up, but she cut me off.


    "CASS." She said, emphatically, and finally. I decided not to press the issue.


    "Cass it is then."


    9

 Chapter 4: Nipton

    Chapter 4: Nipton


    <em>Ladies and gentlemen, wee back to our program. This is Mr. New Vegas, and each and every one of you is wonderful in your own special way. I''ve got some news for you. First up, merchants are saying that there''s been little contact between traders from Nipton in recent days, causing concerns that the isted town may be in trouble. In a rted story, traders from California are being turned away from Mojave Outpost, where the NCR is concerned about dangers along Nipton Highway and the I-15. You know, I think all news, whether it''s good or bad, brings us closer together. Don''t you? I got a great songing up, from The Voice himself: It''s Tom Jones with It''s Not Unusual. Enjoy.</em>


    "You know, when y''said y''had a car," Cass paused, taking a drink from her hip sk. "I thought y''were just fuckin'' with me." Cassidy was sitting next to me (riding shotgun, appropriately enough), and out of the corner of my eye I could see ED-E flying beside us, keeping pace. I didn''t know how that robot moved so fast, but it kept up with the Corvega like it was nothing.


    "Why would you think I was fucking with you?" I asked. She propped her feet up on the dash as she talked, slouching in the seat and watching as the desert rolled past.


    "Well, who has a fuckin'' car this far south? One that works? I mean, yeah, they''re moremon in Reno or Arroyo, but down here? Nobody has a fuckin'' car!" She took another drink. I shrugged.


    "Funny you should mention, New Reno was the ce where I got her," She stifled a chuckle and I could swear I heard her mutter something about ''green sky'' under her breath. I continued. "Most of my courier jobs were up north, so I guess I never really gave it much thought. Are cars really not thatmon down here?" She eyed me with suspicion.


    "You a courier then?" she asked, ignoring my question.


    "Yeah. Was. Am. I mean, er" I stumbled over my words, unsure how someone would describe my current situation. "It''splicated. Let''s just say I''m between jobs."


    "Yeah. S''pose we both are." We were both silent for just a moment. And then the silence was broken. "Fuck! The fuck am I gonna do for money, now my goddamn caravan''s gone?"


    "I''m sure you''ll think of something," I tried to offer helpfully. She just gave a weak sort ofugh, and took another drink from her sk. A question shed across my mind, and I decided to give it voice. "You know, I''m curious  that is, if you don''t mind me asking  how''d you find out about your caravan being hit, if you were stuck at the Outpost?"


    "Ranger patrol checkin'' in," she said, continuing to stare at the passingndscape. "My guess is they found enough in th'' wreckage t''identify it."


    "Think there''s anything left?"


    "Honestly? I don''t think so. S''been weeks, so it''s probably a Cazador nest by now."


    Cazador? What the hell was a Cazador, I thought to myself. Before I could ask, she continued.


    "I''m hopin'' there''s at least a little somethin'' left. But I''m not countin'' on it. Either way, I do need t''pay my respects. I got ''em killed, so I owe ''em that much" She paused. Then, she turned to look at me. "Thanks."


    "For what?"


    "Fer givin'' me a lift. I''m sure I would''ve left that fuckin'' outpost eventually, but Well, shit, even if I''d left, it''d still take me days of walkin'' in the cripplin'' heat, ''neath that blisterin'' sun just to find the damn caravan. An'' by then, I bet there wouldn''t even be any fuckin'' dust left." I shrugged.


    "Hey, it''s no big deal. I''m heading up close to there anyway, so it won''t be that far of a detour." She nodded.


    The conversation trailed off rather quickly as Nipton came into view. I don''t really know how, but somehow the town snuck up on us despite the fact that we were travelling in what was essentially a t desert, on a straight piece of road. There were only a few buildings in the town, but from the rising clouds of billowing ck smoke, it looked like every single one of them was on fire. The town was surrounded by what I thought was a fence, at first; when I looked closer, I saw countless trailers, broken cars, and bits of metal  all of them twisted and broken and ruined  creating a sort of wall around the edges of the town. The only break in the wall was where the Nipton road cut through the town. There were sshes of color and I couldn''t tell at first if it was blood or rust that turned the metal red. When I saw the body hanging limply over the side, I didn''t have to wonder anymore.


    I parked the car in front of the town sign (all it said was "NIPTON" in big bold letters, something about a jackpot, and on the bottom was "Trading Post  RV Park  Camping"), and checked to make sure Roscoe was loaded, just in case. ED-E was circling around the car, looking at me and beeping frantically.


    "What the fuck are you doing?" Cass asked, watching me check my gun.


    "Ghost hired me to check out the town, remember? I need to find out if anyone''s alive in there." I pped the magazine into Roscoe''s grip, and left the car. Secondster, I heard Cass leave the car as well, followed by the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being loaded.


    "You know, it might be dangerous  and from the looks of things, it probably is. You don''t have toe with me."


    "Fuck that! You think I''m just gonna stay in the car?" she said. I nodded, and moved towards the town, Cass falling in beside me; it''s probably best not to argue with the belligerent drunk wielding a shotgun. ED-E beeped something I couldn''t understand and floated along beside me.


    Suddenly, a man came into view from behind the corner of one of the closest buildings. He was running around, pumping his fists in the air, whooping and hollering and just generally making a tremendous racket. He noticed us, and made his way towards me. I kept Roscoe at my side but pointed it at the ground, since I noticed he didn''t have a gun or anything that looked anything like a weapon. When he got a little closer, I noticed that he had the same kind of blue shirt and grey cks that seemed to be distinctive of the Powder Gangers, except they were ripped and torn in ces. Pools of blood were beginning to form under his clothes near some of the rips. He wore a pair of sses with a cracked left lens on his face.


    "Yeeeeeaaaaah!" He yelled at no one in particr, stopping a few feet away from me. "Who has two thumbs and just won the fucking lottery?" He pointed both his thumbs at his chest. "This guy! Oh yeah! Smell that air! Couldn''t you just drink it like BOOZE?" He startedughing hysterically, like it was the funniest joke in the world. Cass and I just looked at each other, wondering what was going on. Even ED-E made a confused sounding beep.


    "Are are you feeling alright?" I asked. He just kept grinning, his eyes wide with excitement.


    "What, are you kidding me? I''ve never felt better! YEAH!" He pumped his fists in the air several times.


    "What kind of lottery did you win?" He stopped when I asked that question, and just sort of stared at me for a second, like I''d just asked what the ground was.


    "What lottery? THE lottery, man! That''s what lottery! What, are you stupid or something? Only lottery that matters! Oh my God, SMELL THAT AIR! Ha-haa! Later!" And without a second word, he took off past me, past Cass, past the Nipton town sign, past my car he just started running off into the desert, waving his arms and cheering.


    The three of us just stared, dumbfounded, as he disappeared off into the distance,ughing hysterically. ED-E let off a series of beeps and whistles, and if I didn''t know any better, I could''ve swore it sounded like the robot was saying "What the fuck?"


    I felt a knot tighten ufortably in the bottom of my gut. Whatever had happened here, I had the distinct impression that it wasn''t something as mundane as Powder Gangers. The three of us made our way slowly into the town, and I became acutely aware of an acrid, alien smell burning my nostrils.


    "Do you smell that?" I asked out loud.


    "Yeah, it''s the smell of fuckin'' houses burning," Cass replied, unhelpfully.


    "No, it''s it doesn''t smell like wood burning. It smells" I couldn''tplete my thought as we rounded a corner. I just stopped, and couldn''t help but stare at the sight in front of my eyes, unable toprehend just what I was looking at for a few seconds. In an instant, I knew exactly what I smelled on the air.


    In the middle of the street was a massive pile of burning tires. The fires roared and crackled, belching foul smelling plumes of ck smoke into the air. But what caught my attention was the top of the pile. Rising out of the center like a macabre tombstone was a metal pole, and a half burned corpse that had been tied to it. The fires licked the body, like some sort of hungry, otherworldly monster. The face and nearly half of the body had beenpletely burned off, leaving only burned and ckened bones with bits of meat limply hanging on weakly.


    "What the fuckin'' fuck! Who the fuck I mean, this fuckin'' How the fuck FUCK!" She finally yelled, staring at the burning corpse.


    Well, that certainly demonstrates the flexibility of the word. But despite theck of any real sentence structure, I kind of understood what she was trying to say with that string of profanity  this didn''t seem like the work of some random gang of raiders. Raiders killed people and mutted bodies, sure; I''d seen some horrific sights just as gory and even bloodier in the past. But this this was somethingpletely different, and it made my blood run cold. This wasn''t violence just for the sake of violence. This was a message someone was trying to send.


    "C''mon," I offered up. "We have to keep moving."


    "Keep moving? Do you not see the body burning on the pile of tires?"


    "Look, when Ghost told me to check out the town, she said that if there were any survivors they''d be in the town hall." She also told me not to get killed, I thought to myself. But I couldn''t leave yet not with so many questions guing my thoughts.


    The three of us edged around the pile of tires, trying as best as we could (the two of us with noses, at least) to not breathe in the poison fumes from the pile of burning rubber. When we were clear of the tires, we were just greeted with another horror show. We were on the main street, and the building that must have been the town hall was at the end of the road but the road to the town hall was lined with dozens of decapitated heads on spikes. Not only that, but what looked like the tops of telephone poles that had been cut down and nted in the ground like crosses also lined the way; each cross (there were little over half a dozen that I could see) had a body tied to it. The road was stained various shades of red and ck from the pools of blood that were drying on the asphalt in the baking desert sun.


    None of us could find the words to say anything.


    Cautiously, I made my way towards one of the nearest crosses, trying not to look at any of the decapitated heads; it was a ridiculous notion, but it felt like their dead eyes were following my every move and it creeped the hell out of me. The body tied to the cross was limp and smelled positively rank. A few flies buzzed around the air. Like the crazy guy who we met when we first entered the town, he was also dressed like a Powder Ganger.


    I leaned in to get a look at his face  and immediately jumped back when his head shot up and he gasped for air.


    "Holy shit!" I heard Cass yell. "He''s still alive?"


    The Powder Ganger tied to the cross twitched weakly, and held his head up just enough to look at me. His whole body shook.


    "K kill me" I heard him say, barely above a whisper. His head fell, and his whole body went limp again. I did my best to regain myposure. But then I saw his wrists.


    "Should shouldn''t we I dunno cut him down or something?" Cass asked.


    "He''s already dead," I heard myself say. I pointed at his wrists. He wasn''t just tied to the cross  what could only be described as railroad spikes were driven through each of his wrists, nailing him to the cross. I looked around and realized it was the same with every single one of the people on these crosses. And it was just people. Men. Women. There was even a boy  he couldn''t be more than 13 or 14, I thought to myself.


    Before I could ask myself what kind of a monster would do something like this, I got my answer as a voice rang out like gunfire through the silence.


    "Magnificent, isn''t it?"


    In a sh, I had Roscoe pointed in the direction of the voice, ready to fire. I heard Cass ready her shotgun next to me, and I even heard the music that I''de to associate with ED-E priming itsser to fire.


    The speaker was standing at the top of the stairs that led into the town hall. The town hall itself was adorned with gs, I noticed, that were flying from open windows; crimson gs, the color of fresh blood, with a golden bull in the center. The speaker was nked by a pair of dogs, and surrounded by half a dozen people, all carrying weapons; some were carrying spears or crude machetes, but the closest to the man speaking had rifles. They were all dressed in reds and cks, and their armor looked like sports equipment that I remembered seeing from a book I''d read in my youth. They all wore what could only be described as leather skirts, and leather sandals.


    The speaker walked out from beneath the shadow of the building toward me, and I could finally get a better look at him. He wore sports equipment like the rest, but it looked like it was reinforced better somehow. A short, tattered red cape fluttered behind him as he moved. On his head, he wore the top half of a wolf head, fur and all, like a hood. His eyes were obscured behind a pair of dark goggles. His left hand rested on the hilt of a sword that looked of a much higher quality than the crude machetes the others carried. His right hand was raised, and he was wagging a finger at me, a twisted smirk across his face.


    "Ah-ah-ah," he said coldly, with an odd sort of refinement in his voice that didn''t sound local at all. "There is no need for that now, is there? My forces outnumber you and yourpatriots ten to one," He stopped about 15 feet from me, and spread his hands, gesturing to the sky. I looked up out of the corner of my eye, and realized that every roof had at least two more soldiers like the ones on the ground, with rifles pointed right at us. He continued. "But if you lower your weapons, you will have no need to worry. I won''t have you set upon, andshed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates."


    I paused, not doing anything for a few seconds, weighing my options. Then I pointed Roscoe up, towards the sky, raising my hands.


    "The fuck are you doing?" Cass hissed at me under her breath.


    "I don''t want to get shot," again, I added mentally. "And I don''t want you to get shot either. Lower your shotgun." I didn''t suggest she go back to the car, because of what she''d said earlier. She didn''t move. "Ghost told me not to get killed, and that goes for you, too. So, please, lower your shotgun." Eventually, she relented, and grabbed the middle of her shotgun, holding it in the air. I turned to the robot.


    "ED-E, wait by the car." I really didn''t want the robot to start shooting right now, and get the lot of us killed. The flying metal ball beeped defiantly. "NOW!" I practically shouted. It faltered, and then floated away.


    "It''s useful that you happened by," the man wearing the wolf head spoke up again. "I want you to witness the fate of the town of Nipton. To memorize every detail. To see the horrors that we have inflicted on this den of debased corruption and then, when you move on? I want you to teach the lessons that Caesar''s Legion taught here." The way he said Caesar caught my attention. Everyone I''d met who spoke of Caesar''s Legion pronounced Caesar with a soft "c" so it sounded like "see-zer." But he said the name with a hard "c" so it sounded more like "kay-zar."


    Odd thing to notice while being held at gunpoint, I know. But my mind does that sometimes.


    "So who are you?" I asked, trying to stall for time while I thought of a way out of this.


    "I am Vulpes Inculta,mander of the mighty Caesar''s Frumentarii. We are those which strike from the shadows, chilling the ck hearts of Caesar''s enemies and we are those who teach deadly lessons to all who would stand against the might of Caesar''s Legion." Every word he spoke chilled me to the bone, partly because he didn''t raise his voice, but mostly because I could just tell this was a man who enjoyed his work.


    "What ''lessons'' did you teach here?" Heughed a soft, wickedugh when I asked him, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He tilted his head, as if lost in thought.


    "Where to begin? That they are weak, and we are strong? This much was known already. But the depths of their moral sickness, their dissolution? Nipton serves as the perfect object lesson. Nipton was a wicked ce, debased and corrupt. It served allers, so long as they paid. Profligate troops, Powder Gangers" he paused for a moment, as if disgusted with what he was about to say, but then continued. " men of the Legion such as myself  the people here didn''t care. It was a town of whores. For a pittance, the town agreed to lead those it had sheltered into a trap. Only when the trap was sprung did they realize that they were caught inside it, too.


    "Everyone was captured, and herded into the center of town like the sheep they were. I recounted for them their sins, the foremost being disloyalty." He smiled wickedly, looking out at the figures hung on crosses. "I told them that when Legionaries are disloyal, some are punished but the others are made to watch. And that was when I announced the lottery. Each clutched his ticket, hoping it would set him free. Each did nothing, even when ''loved ones'' were dragged away to be killed."


    "You" My eyes fell on the child that I''d seen before, nailed to the cross. "These people you killed women  children! You ughtered innocent civilians just to prove a point?" I couldn''t believe what I was hearing.


    "HAH!" He let out a single bellowingugh,pletely at odds with how he normally spoke. "Innocent? Hardly. Cowardly, perhaps. They outnumbered us greatly, yet not once did they try to resist. They stood and watched as their fellows were butchered, crucified, and burned, one by one. Each stood idle as the leader himself was burned alive on a pile of tires. Each among them hoped their turn would note. Each cared only for himself."


    My insides were burning with rage, but I just kept looking at the Legionaries on the rooftops, their rifles still pointed at the both of us. I might be able to kill Inculta with help from VATS, but there was no way Cass or I would survive the retaliation. The man responsible for this ughter was right in front of me, and I couldn''t do anything.


    "If you feel so strongly about it, by all means, attack us, and soon you won''t feel a thing. But I know you will make the right choice so I will bid you ''Vale''," he turned away from me. "Until we meet again"


    He walked away, and as he did so the air around him crackled with ozone and electricity. His whole body shimmered, and then seemed to just disappear into thin air. The other Legionaries disappeared as well, and even the wolves who had been sitting at the top of the town hall steps ran off. I recognized how he''d disappeared  he must have used a Stealth Boy; pre war tech that turned the user practically invisible.


    Cass and I just stood in the center of town, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The silence was deafening, but nothing happened. The only sound came from the pile of tires behind us. After a minute or two, we cautiously made out way out of town, and back to the car.


    "Legion this far West?" Ghost asked me, a tone of incredulity in her voice. "You''re fucking kidding me!"


    "No, I''m not. It was Caesar''s Legion. I know what I saw, and I know who I talked to."


    "That''s not outside the border, they''re moving in  and fast. Nipton wasn''t the most friendly town, but" she paused, as if she had just noticed something I''d said. "Wait, talked to? Who did you talk to?"


    "The man responsible  he called himself Vulpes Inculta. He had a small army of Legionaries, and held me and Cass at gunpoint while he told me why he did what he did. I wanted to shoot him right there, but there was no way out, and I didn''t want Cass on my conscience." Ghost looked worried, even behind her mirrored sunsses.


    "I''ve heard of Inculta. He''s supposedly leader of Caesar''s spies and assassins. There were stories about him, from the first assault on Hoover Dam wholepanies of troops ughtered in the night while they slept. As far as I know, nobody outside of the Legion has ever seen him and lived."


    "He left me alive because he wanted me to send a message. He wanted me to tell people about what happened." She nodded, grimly


    "All right thanks for checking on that, and getting back here so quickly. Wish it put my mind at ease, but now I''m more on edge than ever."


    "Did you have friends there?"


    "In Nipton? Hell no. Town was a shithole, just asking to be burned Just not by Legion. Nobody deserves that. Not even raiders." She paused and thought for a moment. "Maybe this''ll be the push that gets us off our collective asses here so we can go hunting. Fucking Mojave''s going to hell, and all I can do is sit here and watch. Either way, thanks for checking on that. Even if it was bad news."


    Cass leaned against my car as I walked away from the barracks. ED-E floated in the air, just behind her.


    "Y''know" she said, looking at the big metal monument. "I didn''t think I''d be back here so soon. It''s only been, what? An hour? Maybe?"


    "Don''t worry, we''re leaving," I said, tossing her a stic bag filled with caps. "Here."


    "What''s this?"


    "Your share," I said, getting in the driver side.


    Cass looked at the bag of caps  which was not an inconsiderable amount  and looked back at me with a smirk as she got into the car.


    "If this kind of money is what I can expect, I think I''m gonna like traveling with you."

 Chapter 5: Highway

    Chapter 5: Highway


    <em>That was Johnny Bond and his Red River Valley Boys with a little number called Stars of the Midnight Range. This is Radio New Vegas, and have I got news for you. I tried to measure my charisma on a Vit-O-Matic Vigor Tester once. The machine burst into mes. Just kidding, folks. I''ll have some real news for you at the top of the hour, but right now I have more music for all my lovely listeners out there. In New Vegas, we know the pain that numbers can bring us. Well, so does Guy Mitchell, who''s got Heartaches by the Number.</em>


    For a long while, neither of us spoke. We just sat in my Corvega in silence, ED-E flying nearby (and asionally peeling off to take potshots at radscorpions). The ride this time around was a bit rougher than before, since I wasn''t sticking to the road. I thought it would probably be a good idea to give Nipton a wide berth the second time around, so I was doing a bit of off-roading. It was times like this, I was d I''d gotten the Corvega lifted and had the reinforced suspension put in during myst trip to Sac-Town. To keep us on course, I was using my Pip Boy''s map function. Yeah, it was a bit awkward, holding my arm so I could use the steering wheel and see the map at the same time, but I managed.


    I can''t speak for Cass, but I was silent because I was still fuming on the inside about what I''d seen at Nipton. I was trying to put it out of my mind. I had other, more important, more immediate things to do, like finding the man who shot me, and left me for dead. I could actually do something about that. I couldn''t do anything about the Legion, even if I wanted to. It was just too huge; it was an army, and I wasn''t prepared to put my ass on the line for any causes right now not unless that cause was my personal quest.


    Even so, what they had done to the people of Nipton I just couldn''t get the image of that boy, nailed to a cross, out of my head. I didn''t even know his name. I never would. And it just got under my skin.


    "So" Cass finally spoke up. "Novac, huh?" It took me a few seconds to even realize she was talking to me.


    "Wait, what?"


    "Well, back at the outpost cantina, y''said you were headin'' to Novac." She took a drink from her sk. "Call me curious, but why? That''s a whole lotta nothin'' out there, an'' it''s awful close to Legion territory. So what''s in Novac?"


    "Do you really want to know?" I asked her, my eyes locked on the horizon in front of me.


    "Well, I did ask."


    "I''m looking for the man who shot me." There was a very long pause.


    "The man who shot you?"


    "Twice. In the head." I turned to look at her, pointing at the scar on my temple and the scar on my cheek. She was just staring back at me, a look of disbelief on her face.


    "You got shot in the head, twice" She spoke slowly and her voice was t, almost like she was having trouble processing this information. "and you got better." I nodded though, truth be told, if I hadn''t lived it I would probably have trouble believing it myself.


    "I got patched up by this doctor in Goodsprings. Even so, I was in aa for about a week."


    "Two shots in th'' head without an Auto-Doc is still a whole helluva lot of patchin''. I hope you thanked him properly." She said, chuckling weakly and taking another drink from her sk. I thought about it, and remembered how Doc Mitchell had mentioned he''d gotten ''more than enough caps'' to cover the operation and care from Victor. "So, who is this snake, put bullets in yer head? He have cause, or?"


    "I was on my way to Vegas, to deliver a package. He and a couple of thugs ambushed me, beat the shit out of me, took the package I was carrying, shot me in the head, and buried me in a shallow grave. I woke up in Goodsprings about a weekter."


    "Fuck. That''s a helluva story." She brought the sk to mouth, but stopped just short of taking another drink. She shook her head. "Man, robbin'' a courier that''s just low. I mean, I know some fuckin'' ruthless bastards, but you don''t fuck with the one who brings you your mail. I mean, that''s like basic Caravan Code  you don''t screw with your supply lines. Any family or group he''s with is gonna get a ck eye for it, one way or ''nother."


    I nodded, turning my attention back to the horizon. ED-E was zooming around the car, flying rings around it. If I didn''t know better, I''d say it was showing off. Cass took another drink, and continued.


    "Hope this shithead knows what he''s in for from the both of us." That gave me pause.


    "Both of us?"


    "Yup. Someone attacks one of us, they attack all of us. That''s Caravan Code, an'' as far as I''m concerned, couriers apply as well. So you damn right I''m gonna help you teach this fucker some manners. He got a name?"


    "You know, I didn''t get the chance to ask, and he didn''t introduce himself," I said, thinking. "He wore a bad suit, though."


    "Bad suit?" Cass asked, finishing off her sk. She pulled a bottle of whiskey out of nowhere, and started refilling it. "What kinda bad suit?"


    "ck and white checkered jacket. Tacky as hell." She shrugged.


    "Well, if assholes had taste, we''d all be feastin'' on shit." I startedughing. I couldn''t help myself; that just cracked me up. She even joined in, and when theughs finally died down, she continued. "Still suit means money. And suits stand out, ''specially in the Mojave. Could be Vegas, but he could be at one of therger towns ''round here, too." I nodded, agreeing.


    "Yeah, that''s what I''m thinking. Thest tip I got said he was heading to Novac, though. I''m not holding out hope that''s where he is but if nothing else, I''ll find something there to show me where to go next."


    "Don''t you worry," she said, nodding. "We''ll sort this asshole out. Rattle his cage a little."


    "I''m gonna do more than rattle his cage," I said, grimly. "When I catch up to him, I''m putting two in his head as payment, see how he likes it."


    "I hear ya," she said. "I get the chance, he''ll get a couple rounds ''o buckshot in his ass."


    "Works for me. We''ll call it interest." I said with a grin. She nodded, and took yet another drink from her sk. At that, I couldn''t stay silent about the drinking any longer: "Ok, I gotta ask, how are you not dead?"


    " what?" She looked confused.


    "Well, that <strong>is</strong> whiskey you''re drinking, right?"


    "Damn right it is! Whiskey''s my drink o'' choice!" she beamed proudly.


    "Is it now?"


    "Well" she paused, looking thoughtful. "Not sure if I chose it, or it chose me. Dad ran a bar, a long time ago. It was abor of love, Mom said. Didn''t really sound like it made her happy. Still, I''m guessin'' I got some o'' Dad''s love o'' whiskey in me, ''cause the burn suits me just fine." As if to punctuate the thought, she took another drink from her sk, letting out a long, satisfied sigh when she finished. "People used to call me Whiskey Rose, back West ''fore I punched ''nuff people. So now they say it, but quiet ''n when I''m not around."


    "Whiskey Rose?" I braced myself, fully expecting her to sock me in the shoulder, but she just continued.


    "Yeah, on ount of my name an'' the blossoms on my cheeks when I drink too much," Sheughed, a smile spreading across her face. "S''why I don''t even like bein'' called Rose. Won most o'' those fights, too. Can take a helluva punch an'' give it right back when I''ve gotta bottle in me. See, s''all in how ya drink it, y''know? There''s a trick to it I''ll show you how s''done, if you want." She waved the half-full bottle of whiskey in my general direction; I declined, pushing it back towards her.


    "Maybe when we get to Novac."


    "Suits me fine. Though I don''t think they even have a bar in that town"


    "You don''t need a bar to drink, do you?" Judging by how much she''d already drunk in my car, I already knew the answer.


    "Not really, but I gotta buy th'' whiskey somewhere, right? There''s usually a bar in ev''ry stop along th'' road, though. Helps me sleep. Well not really, but s''what I keep tellin'' myself. Sometimes, I have t''brew it myself, if I''m too far from a bar, or I''ve run out. Not quality, but I''m for anything that takes th'' edge off th'' day."


    "Wait, you can make moonshine?" I asked. My Pip Boy beeped at me, and it informed me that we were getting close to Highway 95.


    "Well yeah, what else y''gonna do with an empty bottle? Wait for it to refill itself?"


    "Fair point," I said, shrugging.


    "Tell ya what  you get me some ingredients, an empty bottle, a little time, an'' I''ll keep us stocked."


    "Alright, sounds good. What do you need?"


    "Some maize, a couple mutfruits, a little yeast," she took a drink from her sk, and continued. " and a fission battery."


    "what."


    "Ya heard me," she said with a smirk. "I don''t actually put it in th'' brew, ''fore you ask. You hook up that nuclear battery to th'' bottle just right, it''ll ferment th'' yeast in a few minutes like ya been distillin'' th'' batch fer six months."


    "H-uh. Your dad teach you that trick?"


    "Pfft," she snorted. "Nah. Only thing I ever got from him was this." I nced at her, and she held up the diamond shaped pendant around her neck.


    "You know, I''ve never seen a pendant like that before. What is it?"


    "Gift from my old man, like I said. Gave it to me when he gave me my name  Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Mom said he got the name outta some Old World book ''bout dirt pilgrims, or somethin''. Sounds sweet, I guess, but I prefer myst name Cassidy. Anyway, pendant''s a little rose. Originally thought it was one of Mom''s tribal nes, but when I asked her, she said no, came from my old man."


    "Wait, tribal ne?"


    "Y''know, like one of the tribes from the East? We got ''em out West, too. NCR''s herdin'' ''em up, though. Domesticatin'' ''em. Mom was from East of th'' Colorado. Not sure what tribe. Was before the time Caesar started roundin'' ''em up, an'' made ''em Legion. She walked a helluva way till she crossed paths with my Dad, ''an he convinced her to stop walkin''. An'' lucky for me, he was a horny ol'' bastard."


    "Uh" I didn''t quite know what to say to that. "That''s one way to put it. Did you know him at all?" She shrugged.


    "Not really. He ended up walkin'' East one day when I was young, an'' never came back. Mom died waitin'' for him, an'' she had me to raise. She was sick more often than not, but held off dyin'' till I was old ''nuff to be gettin'' in trouble with boys. As fer Dad I figure he just got himself lost or dead. It happens. I''m not all boo-hoo ''bout it, so save yer ss fer someone who''s cryin''."


    "Any idea why he went East?"


    "Not a clue. When he left, I was too in my crib t''understand why, an'' ''round th'' time Mom passed, I was too into my teens t''listen. Got his name, got this pendant, an'' that''s ''bout it. So what ''bout you?"


    "What about me?" I asked, confused.


    "Well, hell, here I am goin'' on an'' on ''bout my folks, an'' my past, an'' all that happy horseshit. What ''bout you, y''got family somewheres?"


    "I dunno," I said honestly. "Never met ''em." She was silent for a long while.


    "You''ve never met your parents?" She asked. I shook my head.


    "Nope. I don''t even know where I was born. I grew up on the back of a brahmin caravan that went all over the ce. California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington You name a ce West of the Rockies, I''ve probably been there growing up."


    "You ever ask about your parents?"


    "Of course I did," I said, pausing as the car violently jerked one final time before driving back onto the (rtively) smooth tarmac of Highway 95. "But by the time I was old enough to think about asking, there weren''t that many of the original caravaneers left  some had died, sure, but most had just joined other caravans. And the ones who were around, well, they all had different stories about where I was from. And a lot of the stories just didn''t seem to match up with one another. Eventually, I just gave up wondering. I figured that if I wasn''t supposed to find out, I wasn''t going to find out. Like you said, it happens."


    "So, why''d you be a courier?"


    "Seemed like the thing to do, I guess. I tried settling down, once I was old enough to leave the caravan, and strike out on my own. Got myself a ce in Shady Sands, tried my hand at a couple odd jobs here and there, and got myself in a fair bit of trouble, too. But staying in that one ce for so long Maybe it was because I grew up always on the move, but staying still just drove me buggy. That was" I trailed off, trying to remember how long it had been. "12? 13 years ago? Maybe? Either way, I started moving and I haven''t really stopped since."


    "Sounds like me. My feet get antsy if I stay in one ce too long, like the Outpost. Was drivin'' me crazy, that feelin'' of bein'' trapped there. But with my caravan gone, who knows when I would''a left. So thanks for that."


    "Don''t mention it. So how''d you get started in the caravan business, anyway?"


    "Started? Took to it like a fish to water" she paused, considering her choice of words. "That is, if ya know what a fish is."


    "I know what a fish is. Do <strong>you</strong> know what a fish is?" I asked with a smirk.


    "Well" she faltered, but tried to cover it by taking a drink. "Of course I do. It''s this slimy, scaled thing. Like akelurk, ''cept no legs or ws. Most times, that is. They''re like birds, ''cept they stay underwater, y''know?" I did my best to keep a straight face while she continued. "Anyway, I''ve seen pictures. One guy even had one above his bar in Redding. ''Cept it was made of Pre-War stic. Used to say it could sing, but I figured he was on a Jet rush." When she said that, I couldn''t help butugh. "What? What''s so funny?"


    "You know, I think I''ve been to that bar. What was it, the Marmite Saloon or the Mmute Saloon or something?"


    "Yeah, that''s it! Mmute Saloon. Way I heard it, ce was a whore house, like, 40 years ago, ''til th'' NCR rolled in. Good drinks though, even if it was a bit pricey." Iughed at that, nodding. The car fell silent for a few minutes.


    "So, what do you think of the NCR, anyway?" I asked. It was a stretch, sure, but I was just trying to keep up the conversation  kept my mind off Legion.


    "NCR''s my country, an'' I support it. Anyone who says otherwise, I''ll feed ''em my knee. I know which side of th'' firin'' line I''m on in the Mojave, just so y''know."


    "There''s a ''but'' in there, isn''t there?"


    "Yeah," she said, nodding. "There is. NCR''s my country, but I''m not some blind, g-saluting, do-as-they-will NCR lover. They''re family. An'' let me tell you what family means t''me. Th'' NCR''s like a brother  like some dumbass younger brother, who knocked up th'' pastor''s daughter, can''t hold a job, and his home-away''s a fuckin'' jail cell. Theirpass is spinnin'', all the time." I thought about that for a minute. Even though I never had a brother, that kind of made sense in a weird sort of way.


    "So what are you saying? Theyck direction?" She nodded, and continued.


    "S''been like that for a long while, ever since Tandi died, but Kimball''s been the worst. He tries t''put th''NCR''s stake in ev''rythin'' he sees. Nobody''s dick is that long. Not even Long Dick Johnson, and he had a fuckin'' long dick. Thus, the name."


    "Yeah, I got that. Thanks."


    "So Kimball tries to hold ont''a ev''rythin''. He can''t, ''cause it''s too big for th''NCR t''get their arms ''round. Can''t guard the roads, can''t put a line ''o troops ''round th'' Mojave s''just greed that makes Kimball even try."


    "And everyone suffers for it."


    "Aside from th'' people in th'' towns, it''s th'' soldiers suffer for it most. Ever seen NCR troops asked t''go after gangs at three-t''-one odds?"


    "Yeah, I have. Pretty recent, too, down at Primm."


    "That bear g doesn''t make ''em bulletproof," she said. "An'' when those gangs were caused by NCR in th'' first ce, like th'' Powder Gangers? Caesar on a crutch, don''t even get me fuckin'' started there."


    "So, what''s the alternative?" I asked, shrugging.


    "Look, don''t get me wrong. I wouldn''t want th'' Brotherhood or th'' Followers or th'' Vegas families runnin'' the Mojave. All ''o them''re a differen''t kinda fuck-up. NCR just has some shapin'' up t''do. Maybe Caesar kickin'' ''em in the nuts is a nice wake-up call, is all I''m sayin''. I just wish Caesar would kick th'' heads of NCR, not th'' feet. I''ve fucked a soldier in my time  they don''t need t''get fucked by their orders."


    "After seeing what they did to Nipton I wouldn''t even wish Legion on the man who shot me." I thought about that for a minute, then added: "Maybe."


    "Yeah s''kinda th'' major downside to that whole idea. I mean, Mojave''s sufferin'' now imagine what it''d be like with Legion ev''rywhere."


    "I''m trying not to."


    "I don''t trade caps r''supply anyone who keeps ves, an'' treats women like brahmin in those ''camps'' of theirs" She trailed off for a moment, and horrible images flooded into my head. Until Nipton, I''d never really heard much about Caesars Legion, except that it was this big army of ves across the Colorado; a nebulous force of evil and spookiness that I always thought was just NCR propaganda. Now I was starting to wonder just how many of those stories I''d heard were true. "But there are some caravans that deal with ''em."


    "I didn''t think Legion dealt with any caravans at all," I said, thinking about some of the anti-Legion posters in the outpost.


    "Yeah, they''re out there. An'' as much as it pains me to say it, any caravan marked by Legion is safe as houses. They guard their roads, their supply lines  even Fiends think twice ''fore going after any trader with a red bull g. If Kimball took th'' same stand and made sure NCRmitted patrols to th'' roads, then I think that''d solve a lot o'' their problems right there. But he doesn''t, so they don''t. Caravans get butchered in th'' Mojave all th'' time, like mine. And so fuckin'' close to Vegas, you could see it from th'' wall."


    "Sounds to me like it''s not so much Kimball, but the NCR as a whole."


    "Eh. NCR tries, I guess," she said with a shrug, taking another sip from her sk. "S''just that tryin'' don''t mean a good goddamn when you''re payin'' yer respects to th'' dead. And Legion, from what I''ve heard, they don''t do th'' ''stop tolls'' on th'' roads or in th'' outposts like some NCR quartermasters do. You''re lucky if y''turn a profit. Sometimes, if some new officer gets assigned a route, fees just get worse."


    "I''d much rather take the fees than get put on a cross." I said. "Or burned on a pile of tires. Or have my head cut off."


    "Know what I want? I want Kimball t''make good on his campaign promises, an get NCR to protect th'' roads like Legion does. Much as I hate the Legion  an'' trust me, I''d bet you any money I hate th'' Legion s''much as you  caravan life would be a hell of a lot easier as long as thosepanies were run by men. An'' that''s the biggest issue I see. It''s a shame, but I think there''s people in th'' NCR who feel more strongly ''bout this than I do. An'' I feel pretty fuckin'' strong about it."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Some caravans deal with Legion now ''cause of th'' security. If towns could get th'' same protection? A lot more tempting than you''d think. Bunch o'' people would be willin'' t''side with th'' Legion t''not have to worry about Fiends or Boomers or Great Khan attacks. S''not hard for some folks to sell freedom when th'' alternative is worse"


    "Especially if being with NCR is going to get you on a Legion cross," I said, finishing her thought. She nodded, grimly.


    "S''like, no matter what we do, we''re gonna get fucked. Legion''ll crucify yer ass, an'' NCR''ll tax it out from under ya  and then Legion''ll put you on a cross anyway fer yer trouble."


    "Only if you stay in the Mojave," I said, trying to steer the subject away from the Legion. It was just making me madder. "Something tells me you and I aren''t really the type to stick around here if things go pear-shaped."


    "That''s true. You said you''ve traveled a lot  so''ve I. Passed through ces enough times people''d sometimes pay me some caps to take somethin'' to the next town. That''s kinda how my caravan got started. One day, it urred to me I could scratch th'' travelin'' itch an'' get paid for it. Cassidy Caravans just sort of formed around me."


    "So, how is the caravan life here?" She shrugged.


    "Up ''till my caravan got burned, I liked it. I''m not one fer soft livin'', or soft men, let me tell you. Otherwise, I wouldn''t be talkin'' t''you right now  on both counts." It took me a minute to parse what she''d said.


    "Miss Cassidy are you flirting with me?" I said, with a wry grin on my face, half joking. I had no idea what grinning was doing to the scar on my cheek; for the first time, I was kind of d I hadn''t shaved in a few days, since it probably hid the scars. Somewhat. Sheughed and then hit me really hard in my shoulder.


    "Don''t you be takin'' that as anythin'' more''n words. I know yer look. Met a dozen guys with that same look''n their eyes. You probably say all the right things, an'' leave a trail ''o broken hearts behind you. Just so we''re clear, nothin''  an I do mean nothin''  is ever gonna happen ''tween us. You''d best respect that. My point before? You know th'' wastnd, an'' it''s a hard ce, where only th'' strong survive."


    "You know, that''s probably gonna bruise," I said, looking at my shoulder.


    "Serves ya right, ya letch."


    "Good hit though."


    "No it wasn''t. This is a good hit -"


    WHACK.


    Novac was a littlemunity that had sprung up in the remains of a small, two story pre-war motel, at the intersection of Highway 95 and Highway 165. What the motel used to be called, nobody remembered. The letters on the sign had all fallen away, or rusted into nothing. The only thing left was what the townsfolk had taken for the name  the only five remaining letters of the "No Vacancy" sign.


    The most prominent feature of the motel was not the sign, or the shanty town on the West side of the 95, or the abandoned gas station nearby; the most prominent feature of the town was the dinosaur. I think it was supposed to be a T-Rex or something  I''d seen something simr, years ago, at the radioactive Labre tar pits in the Boneyard. It wasn''t quite as big as the NCR monument at the outpost, but it was still the first thing we saw as we approached in the Corvega. As we got closer, I could see that bits of its green scales were king off, revealing the metal framework underneath.


    It wasn''t quite night yet when I parked the car at the gas station, but it wasn''t quite day either. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky was turning all shades of oranges and purples and reds and blues. ED-E buzzed around the car, a soft and happy sort of tune made out of random beeps and whirsing from his speaker.


    "So," Cass said to me, getting out of the car. "What''s the n?"


    "Well" I said, checking the time on my Pip Boy. "I figure, we can get a room and stay the night, and then I''ll start asking people in the morning if they''ve seen a guy in an awful suit."


    "We?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and staring at me, ice water in her gaze.


    "Did I say we?" I said, as tonelessly as I could muster, despite my shoulder suddenly and inexplicably ring up. "I meant you. You''ll get the room, I''ll stay in the car."


    "I''m just givin'' ya shit, ya know that right?" Cass said with a smirk.


    "Still, I was probably gonna stay in the car anyway. Force of habit, you know." I said shrugging.


    At that precise moment, something oddly familiar caught my ears. I perked my head up, trying to listen. Before I realized what was happening, a familiar squeaking sound, like a greased axle grinding along metal sounded from behind me, followed swiftly by an all too familiar mechanical cowboy voice.


    "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, if it ain''t my old friend from Goodsprings!" I heard Victor say to me. I turned around to see him roll to a stop a few feet away from me.


    "Hello Victor," I said, eyeing the robot with suspicion. His screen flickered slighty as he wobbled in ce.


    "You know this bot?" Cass called out from behind me.


    "Yeah," I said, turning to her. "This is Victor. He''s the one that dug me out of that shallow grave. Victor, this is Cass."


    "Howdy, ma''am." Victor said to Cass, making a motion that would''ve been like tipping his hat if he''d actually had a hat on his head. Which he didn''t.


    "Uh hi there." She said, waving weakly. She shot me a look that practically said "What the fuck is going on?" without actually saying anything.


    "So, Vic, tell me what are you doing all the way out here in Novac? This is quite a ways from Goodsprings." The robot''s screen flickered again.


    "Don''t rightly know  I just got the notion to make my way up to New Vegas. Reckon I''ll find out when I get there."


    "Quite the coincidence, us meeting up like this," I didn''t believe in coincidences, so I was trying to probe the robot for any answers I might be able to get.


    "Seeing how this is the only road around, I''d be a sight more surprised if we didn''t run into each other from time to time."


    "You said the men that jumped me were heading this way, right?" It was a longshot, I know, but I thought maybe that would trip him up and get him to reveal something.


    "No don''t believe I did." Victor said slowly, his screen shing violently before shifting back into focus. "You might ask around  the Novac folk usually see anyone travelling this way."


    "Hm." I knew something was off, but I couldn''t figure out what. And talking with Victor that was like talking to a very stubborn brick wall. Made out of titanium. "Well. I guess I''ll see you around then, Vic?"


    "Be seeing you!" Victor said. He turned, and rolled away beforeing to rest at the Novac sign.


    ED-E floated in the air beside me. He looked at Victor, then at me, then back at Victor, and then finally back at me, where he started beeping and buzzing something that sounded slightly obscene.


    "You know, I really wish I could understand you."


    Cass walked around the car, looking over at Victor as she approached. "So what th'' fuck was that about?"


    "I don''t know," I said. "But I have a nasty feeling I''m gonna find out soon enough.

 Chapter 6: Boone

    Chapter 6: Boone


    <em>It''s me again, Mr. New Vegas, reminding you that you''re nobody ''til somebody loves you, and that somebody is me. I love you. It''s that time again,dies and gentlemen  time for me to put on my newsman fedora. Word out of Camp Golf is that many NCR Rangers can expect re-deployment in the near future. One anonymous soldier said it was part of a new strategy. Also, Caesar''s Legion continues to fortify its position in Nelson, where it remains a constant concern for Camp Forlorn Hope and the nearby town of Novac. The preceding segment was sponsored by the Silver Rush: feel the rush of a warmser in your hand. In New Vegas, sometimes you''ve got to feel just a little bit sad if you want to feel happy. Frank Sinatra knows this better than most, and all he asks for is One for My Baby (And One More for the Road).</em>


    Cass and I walked into the lobby of the motel, and I was met with the overwhelming sense of "green." The wallpaper, peeling and cracked in ces, was a pale green with a faded and barely visible floral pattern. The moldy and torn couch pressed up against the far wall was made out of dark green leather. The floor tiles were various shades of green, some light, some dark in no discernable pattern that I could really see. Themp in the center of the slowly spinning fan on the ceiling was made out of green smoked ss. Tiny green dinosaur toys  miniatures of the giant dinosaur outside  littered nearly every surface in the room. Even the radio, crackling slightly but unmistakably tuned to Radio New Vegas and ying some Old World song, was green.


    I continued to be overwhelmed by the color green when I got a good look at the woman sitting behind the front desk. Part of that was the lighting, I''ll admit, but it was mostly the dark green dress she was wearing. She was middle-aged, with grey hair held up on the top of her head in a bun, and was surprisinglyrge. She wasn''t fat, just plump; the only thin part of her was her long thin nose, upon which was perched a pair of extremelyrge sses, with thick lenses that made her half-opened, heavy lidded eyes look positively enormous. When we walked in, she turned from her magazine, looked up at me and smiled wide, with dimples in her cheeks the size of golf balls.


    "Well, wee to you," she said with the voice of a very tired, sweet olddy. "You look tired from the road. Why don''t you rx a spell, let this fine town take care of you? Oh, but where are my manners? I got to thinking about making a good impression and in forgot to tell you my name! I''m Jeannie May. I take care of folks here at the motel, long as they aren''t trouble makers."


    "Hey there," I said, reaching the front desk and finally getting a word in edgewise. "I''d like to rent a room." Somehow, she managed to smile even wider at that.


    "Well, I think that''s a splendid idea! I''ll give you a good t rate, and you can stay as long as you like. At least until the busy seasones. Does that sound good?" I nodded. "Alright, it''ll be 14 caps a night," she said, pulling a key from a hook on the wall behind her. She ced it on the desk as I pulled out a stack of 20 bottlecaps; I kept them in groups of 20, to make it easier to count them out. "Your room will be the one upstairs, closest to the lobby side. Let me know if there''s anything I can do to make your stay better for you."


    "Oh, it''s not for me," I said, picking up the key and tossing it to Cass. She caught it in midair. "Go on and get settled. I''ll catch up."


    "Thanks. I owe ya," Cass said, strolling out of the lobby. I turned back the Jeannie May.


    "Before I leave, I wanted to ask you a question."


    "Of course. What can I help you with?"


    "I''m looking for a man in a checkered coat. Have you seen anyone like that pass through here recently?" Her smile evaporated instantly, and her face screwed up, almost as if she suddenly smelled something foul.


    "Well, he might''ve been wearing a fancy outfit, but he wasn''t any sort of gentlemen to me. Had his nose stuck up so high in the air, you couldn''t see it above the clouds. City folk, they always think they deserve better than what they got. He even insulted my motel  asked him to leave that very day. Those hoodlums he was with weren''t much better, but they seemed to know Manny for some reason"


    "So where can I find this Manny?"


    "He''s one of the snipers that help protect the town. Your best bet to find him is up in the dinosaur''s mouth."


    The inside of the dinosaur was not what I was expecting. I opened the door to a gift shop, and every single shelf on every wall was filled from side to side with those same tiny dinosaur toys I''d seen in the motel lobby. And the man who ran the little shop, Cliff, seemed oddly fixated with the things; I only asked him if it was alright if I went up the stairs to talk with the sniper, and somehow he managed to steer the conversation towards asking me if I wanted to buy one of the T-Rexes. I declined, and I heard him mutter something about how nobody ever wanted to buy the T-Rexes as I made my way up the stairs towards the sniper perch.


    I slid the door open and immediately tensed up as I heard the unmistakable click of a pistol''s hammer being cocked.


    "Whoa, hey! Don''t shoot!" I said, making sure my hands were in the air and away from Roscoe as the door continued to slide open. A revolver was pointed directly at me, but was quickly decocked and put away. The man was holding the revolver in one hand, and had a silenced, scoped hunting rifle in his other. He was huge; even without the red beret, I could''ve told you from his build that he was ex military. He had a heavy-set and clean shaven jaw, and I couldn''t tell if it was just naturally wide or if he was chewing tobo. He looked at me with a frown from behind a pair of sunsses.


    "Goddamnit!" he said, his voice gravelly, weary, and low. He turned back in his chair, and looked out through the dinosaur''s mouth, towards the general direction of the Colorado river. "Don''t sneak up on me like that. What do you want?" He spoke quickly and tersely, wasting no words on unnecessary pleasantries.


    "I was told there was a sniper nest up here."


    He turned slightly to look at me, appraising me with a scowl.


    "I think you''d better leave."


    "Hang on  are you Manny?" There was a very long pause.


    "No." There was another pause, and then he added "You don''t know who I am?"


    "I''m looking for Manny, because I want to ask him some questions. But if you''re not him, I guess I''ll leave."


    "Wait," the cold sniper said as I was turning to walk back out the door. "You just got into town, right? Maybe you shouldn''t go. Not just yet." I raised an eyebrow.


    "Why not?"


    "I need someone I can trust. You''re a stranger. That''s a start."


    "You only trust strangers?" I asked, confused.


    "I said it was a start," he practically spat. "This town nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore. I need the kind of help I can only get from an outsider." I thought about what he said, and I had to admit there was a string of morbid curiosity in my brain that wanted to pursue this conversation. So I closed the door, and regarded him carefully.


    "Ok then. What do you need?" I said. I figured, it couldn''t hurt to at least listen to what he had to say.


    "I want you to find something out for me. I don''t know if there''s anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion vers one night while I was on watch. They knew when toe. What route to take. And they only took Ca. Someone set it up. I don''t know who."


    "So you''re trying to track down your wife?"


    "My wife''s dead," he said, forcefully. "I want the son of a bitch who sold her."


    "You said she was taken by Legion. How do you know she''s dead?" I asked. I thought it was a fair question, but he practically bit my head off with his response.


    "I just know, all right?" He practically shouted, but lowered his voice and continued. "That''s all you need to know."


    "Alright, sorry. Ok, so, I find the person responsible. What would you want me to do when I find whoever it is?"


    "Bring him out in front of the nest here while I''m duty." He pointed down to a specific spot far enough away from the town to be obscured at ground level, but with a clear line of sight from his sniper perch. "I''ll give you my NCR beret to put on. It''ll be our signal, so I know you''re standing with him. And I''ll take care of the rest." I thought about what he was asking for a few minutes. He was on a quest for revenge, same as me. And even though I wasn''t really all that concerned at the moment with fighting them, I didn''t have any love for Legion, or the people who worked with them.


    "Alright," I said finally. "I''ll see what I can find out"


    "Good," he said, nodding and removing his beret, revealing a buzzed, almostpletely shaved head. "I''ll make it worth your while. And one more thing," he said, handing me the beret. "We shouldn''t speak again. Not until it''s over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know, or the Legion will be after me next." I nodded, understandingpletely.


    I took a look at the beret, turning it over in my hands. It was red, with a patch on the front of a bear skull with crossed rifles behind it. There was a slogan above and below the skull, that said "NCR 1st Recon" and "Thest thing you never see."


    "So what do I call you?" This was an annoying habit that I''d started to notice about NCR troopers  they refused to give me a name unless I asked.


    "Boone."


    I only spent 15 or 20 minutes asking around town before I realized that Ca, Boone''s wife (I still had no idea if Boone was hisst name or his first name), wasn''t exactly the most popr person in town. A couple of people didn''t know her, but the ones that did all pretty much had the same opinion: she was a bitch. She talked down to people, she''d spend most of her time sulking in her room, and she made sure everyone knew that she thought she deserved better than what Novac could offer. Of course, for all theirints, nobody seemed to know anything about the disappearance. A few people didn''t even realize she was gone.


    Now, I know what you may be asking: "Sheason, how can you be sure they weren''t just lying?" and that is a very good point. The only real exnation I can give is that I''m just good at reading people. It''s something I''ve always been able to do, even as a kid. The way someone speaks, their bodynguage, the movement of their eyes, how dted their pupils are, and countless other clues: I''m just able to pick up on these things.


    There were two people I questioned, however, that sent up red gs: the first was Jeannie May. I caught her as she was closing up the motel front desk. As soon as I asked about Boone''s wife, she tensed up almost imperceptibly for half a second, but then it disappeared, reced with a sort of mncholy sadness.


    "How should I put it?" she said finally. "I guess you could say she was kind of like a cactus flower. Real pretty to look at, but there was just no getting close to her. She never did take to living here. She liked the big lights and fast living of New Vegas. I got the feeling she was trying to get Boone to leave with her, but I guess she got tired of waiting."


    She was lying about something, I could tell. But the thing that really caught my attention, as I watched her walking away towards one of the houses across the 95, was something very simple: of all the people I''d asked around town, she was the only one who offered an exnation for Ca''s disappearance.


    The other person that sent up a red g (but for a very different reason) was this crazy old man wandering around town; I bumped into him identally as I turned a corner. He was wearing tatty brown rags, and his grey hair and unshaven beard were messy and unkempt. When I turned the corner, he stared at me intensely, his eyes wide andpletely fixed on me.


    "Who sent you?!" he practically yelled. He sounded like he''d smoked a carton of cigarettes a day. "I ain''t talkin''! They tried to get me to talk before, but I didn''t say nothin'', and I don''t aim to now, by gum!" I was afraid he might try and stab me if I made any sudden movements or upset him, so I kept my distance and decided to humor him.


    "Who tried to make you talk?" I asked, and he immediately looked defeated.


    "Confound it, No-bark, you done it again. You let on that you know things. Now they''ll never let you be. They''lle for you in the night like they did for thatdy."


    "Wait, what?" I asked. "Are you talking about Boone''s wife?" He nodded.


    "Seen it all," he said, pointing at his eyes with both fingers. "Seen shadowy folke to his room and leave again in the middle of the night. Thought one might''ve gone in the lobby, too, for a spell. Could be that person went in to get something. Or use the john, maybe. Mighty interesting either way, you ask me," he said, stroking his beard. "I thought it was cannibals,e to eat us all for sure, so I kept out of sight. But now I know better!"


    "So who was it, if it wasn''t cannibals?" I was almost afraid to ask.


    "Molerat men! Come up from the Underneath to steal young women with promises of riches and fancy mud mansions with all thetest designer appliances! They covet ourdyfolk''s long hair for wigs, it''s said, being either bald or balding themselves!"


    "Uh that''s interesting."


    "If anyone asks, we never spoke." And with that, he wandered off, muttering to himself something about the Chupacabra that I couldn''t quite hear.


    I didn''t know what to think. This guy, No-bark, was an obvious crackpot but for some reason, it felt like there might have been a nugget of truth in what he said. Part of that was the fact that the first part of his story  peopleing in the middle of the night to take Ca  actually matched up with what Boone had told me. Add in the fact that Jeannie May was lying about something, and that he mentioned someone had gone into the lobby before leaving


    I decided to take a look in the lobby, to see what I could find.


    I checked my Pip Boy''s clock  it was close to 11 pm by the time I made my way back to the lobby. The town of Novac was silent except for the chirping of crickets. No one was around. And for what I was about to do, that was a very good thing. I tried the door, but it wouldn''t budge. I looked around again, double checking that no one was around. I knelt down, taking a look at the lock. It was pretty simple. I pulled out my torsion wrench and a hook pick, and set to work.


    This may seem odd that I would know how to pick a lock, but you need to understand something  if you want to thrive out in the wastnd, rather than simply survive, one of the skills you need to learn is lockpicking. I''d learned the basics of it when I lived in Shady Sands for that short period, and it hade in handy more times than I could count over the years. The most useful that skill had been, by far, was the one time I''d been captured by raiders just outside math. Ever since then, I always kept a torsion wrench and a few various tumbler picks on me, just in case. In a pinch, I could use a screwdriver and some bobby pins, but that wasn''t ideal.


    The door opened with a satisfying click.


    I turned on the light, and the interior was just as green as I''d remembered it. I had no idea what I was looking for, honestly. But I decided to start with the floor safe behind the front desk counter. There were other ces that were probably less obvious around the room that someone who was actually trying to hide something would use, sure. But I started with the safe just to be thorough, not actually expecting to find anything.


    You can imagine my surprise, then, when I cracked the safe and found a slip of paper bearing a red bull stamp. With a mounting sense of unease and dread, I unfolded it, and read:


    <em>We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford of the township of Novac the exclusive rights to ownership and sale of the ve Ca Boone for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps, the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged. We warrant the ve and her young to be sound, healthy, and ves for life. We covenant with the said, Jeannie May Crawford, that we have full power to bargain and sell said ve and her offspring. Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending sessful maturation of the fetus, the im to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document. </em>


    <em>Marcus Scribonius Libo Drusus et al.</em>


    <em>Administrators of M. Lichinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famto</em>


    I knelt there in stunned silence for a few minutes, just reading the note over and over again. I felt ill.


    I banged on the door to Jeannie May''s house hard enough to make sure she''d hear it, even if she was asleep. About a minuteter, she opened the door, rubbing her eyes. She was wearing a robe, and didn''t have her sses. She blinked wearily and tried to focus on me. When she realized who it was, she looked concerned.


    "Well, hello" she said, slightly perplexed. "It''s awfulte to being around here for a chat  is everything all right? Is something the matter?"


    "Oh, everything is all right," I said, putting on my best poker face. "But there''s something I think you need to see."


    I made sure I didn''t have any bits of Jeannie May''s head on me as I walked back into town. When I''d gotten her into position, I''d barely put the beret on when the back of her head simply exploded. She copsed, Boone''s bullet killing her instantly.


    There was still no one around town  I didn''t even see Victor anywhere  as I made my way up the stairs and into the dinosaur. As I reached for the door to the dinosaur''s mouth, I hesitated, and rapped on the door instead.


    "Who is it?" I heard Boone ask.


    "It''s Sheason." The door opened with a click.


    "That''s it then," he said as the door closed behind me. "How did you know?"


    "I found this," I handed him the bill of sale, and gave him his beret back. He took a look at it, and the scowling expression on his face remained unchanged. He crumpled the letter in his hands, and tossed it onto the floor.


    "I guess I shouldn''t be surprised. It''s just like them to keep paperwork." He handed me a bag of bottlecaps. "Here. This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here." A thought crossed my mind.


    "Wait, do you think anyone''s going to connect you to that bitch with the hole in her head? You''re not an ouw now, are you?"


    "No," he said simply. "People die out there. Often enough that no one worries about me. They''re too anxious to forget it happened in the first ce, I guess. Besides," For the first time since meeting him, I saw him smirk. "I was on break when it happened."


    "So, what are you going to do now?"


    "I don''t know," he gazed out at the desert. "I won''t be staying, I know that. Don''t see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries."


    "What, all by yourself?"


    "Yeah," he said simply.


    "You''re a sniper though, right? Don''t snipers work in pairs  one sniper, one spotter?" I asked, honestly not really sure. I''d seen something about that in an old holotape movie about snipers in the Old World, but I didn''t know if that was urate or not.


    "Yeah. Normally. But if I''m going to hunt Legion, I''ll do it alone. What about you?"


    "What about me?" The question caught me a bit off guard.


    "You''re hunting for someone, I can tell. It''s why you helped me." That was surprisingly perceptive. I wouldn''t have called that.


    "Yeah, you''re right. I''m looking for the man who shot me. A guy in a checkered coat, travelling with some Great Khans. Have you seen him?"


    "No. Sorry. Talk to Manny. He works days."


    I knocked on the door to Cass'' room. I was still emotionally drained from the discovery in the motel lobby, and somehow watching the bitch responsible for selling a woman and her unborn child into very getting her head blown off did nothing to make me feel better. So I decided there was only one thing I could do.


    When Cass opened the door, it looked like she''d been drinking but that wasn''t really a change, she always looked like she was drinking. Her suede jacket had been discarded somewhere, as had her cowboy hat; her red hair fell down loose around her face and down her back. She leaned against the doorframe, a half finished bottle of whiskey in hand.


    "Hey, Shea," she said with a smile. "What''s up?"


    "I need a drink," pointing at the bottle. "May I?"


    "Sure," she said, putting the bottle in my hand. I tipped my head back, and poured the rest of the bottle down my throat. It burned in the best possible way.


    "Thanks," I told her, cing the empty bottle back in her hand, and walking down the motel stairs, back to my car.

 Chapter 7: The Bright Brotherhood

    Chapter 7: The Bright Brotherhood


    <em>Wee back to the program. This is Mr. New Vegas, and I hope I''m noting on too strong. More news ising at you right now. Rumors persist about a super mutant refuge nestled high in the ski lodge at the peak of Mount Charleston to the northwest. If you should find it, do not, repeat, DO NOT belittle a super mutant for taking the bunny slope. Also, the ck Mountain radio signal is back after a long absence. Listeners say the new programming is, quote, less for outcasts, more for weirdoes. This section of the program was brought to you by Gomorrah: It''ll be our secret. Got some more Sinatraing up, asking you to Come Fly With Me.</em>


    "Well, let''s try this again." I said to myself, as I climbed up the stairs to the dinosaur-mouth sniper perch. I knocked on the door, and heard an unfamiliar voice from inside tell me toe in.


    The first thing I noticed was the red beret  for half a second, I thought Boone was still here, and my ears were ying tricks on me. When he turned to look at me, the thing that caught my attention was his facial hair; thest time I saw a handlebar moustache that impressive was when I''d been shot. This wasn''t the same man though  this guy looked more hispanic than anything else. Plus, while it was simr, he wasn''t wearing Great Khan colors; just a sleeveless leather vest over a red long sleeved shirt, and an ammo belt bandolier draped across his chest.


    "What''s goin'' on man?" he said.


    "You Manny?"


    "Yeah," he nodded. "What can I do for ya?"


    "I''m looking for a man in a checkered coat. I was told you could help me find him. Know him?"


    "Sure, I know him," he said after pausing for a minute, as if he wasn''t sure if he should answer. "What do you want with him?"


    "Let''s just say he has something of mine, and I want it back" I said. Manny raised an eyebrow.


    "You talkin'' about that chip?" I nodded, and he continued, shaking his head. "Man, I don''t think he''s giving it up."


    "Maybe not. But do you know where I can find him, anyway?"


    "Yeah I think I can help," he said with a smile. "But I got problems of my own. You do something for me, and I can tell you where you can find him."


    I rubbed my temples, massaging the scar on the side of my head. Great, I thought to myself, just what I need  another diversion. At this rate, I''ll never catch up to him. But this was my only really solid lead. With any luck, whatever he had in mind wouldn''t take too long or be too out of the way.


    "Fine," I sighed, resignation in my voice. "What do you need?"


    "This town, Novac? It''s home for me now. I want that to be for good. I really like it here and I''ve left too many homes behind. But the only resource the people around here have is junk. Without that, there wouldn''t be anything people could trade. They''d all have to leave."


    "Not to interrupt, but I assume there''s a point to all this?" I wasn''t really all that interested in the why  just tell me what you want done so I can go and get it done, I thought to myself.


    "I''m getting to it. See, most of the junkes from the old rocket test site up the road. It''s sort of hidden in the ck Mountain foothills just west of here. But a few days ago, a bunch of ghouls showed up and took it over. Nobody wants to even get close anymore."


    "If it''s so important," I said with a shrug "why don''t you just go up there and deal with it?"


    "Trust me, if I could, I would." He said almost defensively. He pointed at his beret. "See this? Means I was in 1st Recon, same as Boone. It''s shorthand for badass. I could clear out the ce myself, but it would still take me the better part of a day, and I can''t do that because I have to watch the road. As annoying as the ghouls are, they''re not wandering, but Caesars Legion? They''ve been taking territory just east of here. Last I heard, they took Nelson. If we if I let our guard down, even for a minute, they might attack. All it takes for the Legion is for them to sense weakness."


    "Ok. So you want me to get rid of the ghouls. What kind of ghouls are we talking about?"


    "What do you mean?" he asked, sounding confused.


    "Well, are these a pack of feral ghouls that have wandered in, thinking there might be meat, or are these just ghouls who are squatting in an abandoned building, and I can maybe talk to and convince them to leave the ce?"


    "I don''t know. I haven''t actually been up there. I think its just ferals though, since everyone keeps talkin'' about zombies. Personally, it doesn''t matter to me what you do. As long as the ghouls are out of there, and people can go back to scavenging, that''s good enough for me."


    "Alright. I''ll think about it," I said, despite having already made up my mind. "But if I do this, I expect you to tell me what I want to know."


    "Thanks man," he said as I started to walk out the door. "It''d mean a lot to me."


    "Ok, exin t''me again why we''re doin'' this?" Cass said as she walked beside me. ED-E was floating next to me on the other side as the three of us made our way up the road towards the rocket site.


    "Well, I''m going up there to clear out some ghouls. I do this favor for Manny, he tells me what I need to know. Simple enough trade, just with a verbal contract and no caps involved."


    "Well yeah, that''s what I mean - why are we goin'' through all this trouble? If he knows who yer lookin'' for an'' where he is, why don'' ya just beat it out of him?" I had to stifle a snicker.


    "I think maybe you''ve seen too many Pre-War holotapes. For one, beating a confession out of someone doesn''t actually work. For two, he''s ex 1st recon; he''d probably beat the shit out of me, rather than the other way around if I tried anything like that. And for three, I don''t actually know why you keep saying ''we'' about all this. When I knocked on your door to tell you where I was going, I didn''t think you''d want to follow."


    "I''m bored, an'' got nothin'' else better t''do," she said with a shrug. "B''sides, y''said th'' people in Novace up here to scavenge stuff. It''s been a couple years, but I figure, couldn''t hurt t''do a bit of honest ''prospecting.'' With all that''s happened, I could use th'' money."


    "So that''s what the duffel bag is for," I said, pointing to the empty sack she had slung across her shoulder. She nodded with a grin.


    "Gotta carry th''haul back somehow."


    At that moment, ED-E started to beep excitedly. I was about to ask what was up, when the beeping was reced by the familiar bugle music. I took a look at my Pip Boy''spass  and immediately pulled Roscoe out of its holster.


    "What''s goin'' on?" Cass asked. I showed her thepass: there was a mass of red pips on thepass, pointing to a ce up the road and behind some rocks. She pulled out her shotgun, and the three of us carefully made our way to the bend in the road. The closer we got, the more I became aware of a shuffling sound, like bare feet scraping against pavement, apanied by the asional sounds of low growls and mutterings. ED-E hovered as low to the ground as he could; Cass and I moved behind an abandoned Chryslus Highwayman to get a look.


    "You know," I whispered to Cass, "I asked Manny earlier if it was regr ghouls or if it was ferals. I guess I got my answer." All along the road ahead of us were 6 maybe 7 feral ghouls. The stench of death hung heavily in the air. They looked like walking corpses  they were emaciated, and most of them had skin just hanging loose off their bones. Though, walking was probably giving them too much credit. Most of them were squatting on the road, but the ones that were up and about were shuffling along, dragging their feet as they moved.


    ED-E beeped quizzically. The one closest to where we were hiding perked his head up at the noise. He motioned like he was sniffing the air  except he had no nose. And then he looked directly at us with dead eyes.


    "Shit."


    The ghoul stopped shuffling, and let out a screech. I hated it when ferals screamed. The scream was raw, loud, and horrifically inhuman, like his vocal cords had been burned away to such an extent that this was the only sound they could even make anymore. But the real reason I hated it when ferals screamed was what happened next: every single feral on the street stopped what they were doing and turned as one to look at us. There were more screams, and they all got up and charged at us with a speed and ferocity that didn''t seem possible from a pack of walking corpses.


    I slipped into V.A.T.S., and instantly became aware that there was a lot more of them charging at us than just half a dozen. I squeezed off a few shots, trying to make every one count. I buried two slugs in the chest of the nearest one, but it didn''t even seem fazed. Inded a third shot in its head and it went down with a sickening wet crunch. A few more went down to V.A.T.S. powered Roscoe, with help from Cass with her shotgun and ED-E with hisser. But just as I was reloading, a ghoul managed to slip by the three of us, and leap over the car right at me. To make matters worse, I heard that same mechanical female voice in my ear that I''d heard when I first discovered V.A.T.S.:


    "We at Vault-Tec apologize for the inconvenience, but your Action Points have been depleted. Please allow them to recharge before using V.A.T.S. again." I could feel my eye twitch.


    "OH, FOR THE LOVE OF -" the ghoul tackled me, sending me to the ground. I felt rather than saw Roscoe fly out of my hands and tter to the ground somewhere behind me. I brought the arm with my Pip Boy up to shield my face, just as the ghoul lunged at me, as if to bite my face off. The ghoul scrambled and wed at me, forcing me against the ground. Seeing it up close was not a pleasant experience, let me tell you. The flesh on its face was either hanging loose off the bones, or it waspletely rotted away. One of its eyes, milky white like it had a massive cataract obscuring everything, was hanging loose in the socket and bulging out. It didn''t have a nose, just an empty hole. Every orifice was dripping a ck slimy ichor, and the smell made me want to vomit. I struggled against it, as it gnawed hungrily on my Pip Boy. I punched it in the side of the head, and it faltered enough for me to get my feet under it, and kick it solidly in the chest away from me.


    The feral stood over me, readying itself to attack again. I started to get up and crawl away, to find where Roscoe had fallen, when its head exploded in a shower of gore.


    " what."


    All around me, ferals started falling from headshots. I looked around  Cass (who had backed up considerably) looked just as confused as me, and even ED-E didn''t seem to know what was going on. And that''s when I saw him.


    Taking careful aim from a vantage point above us was Boone, firing with an uracy and speed I didn''t think was possible. With every muzzle sh, another feral dropped dead from lead poisoning. In less than a minute, every feral had fallen. The road fell quiet as quickly as the violence had started. By the time I got up, wiped the gore off me, and found where Roscoe had fallen, Boone hade down from his perch and was making his way towards me, his scoped and silenced sniper rifle in hand.


    "Thanks for the save, Boone. I didn''t think I''d ever see you again." He nodded, saying nothing.


    "Yeah, thanks" Cass said, walking up toward us with a confused look on her face. "Hey Sheason, who is this guy?"


    "Cass, this is Boone," I said, gesturing to him. His face remained impassive, like a stone statue carved out of granite. "Boone, Cassidy. I uh, I helped him out with somethingst night." I turned back to him. "Like I said, I didn''t think I''d ever see you again. Not to sound ungrateful, but what are you doing here?"


    "Thought about what you said," he replied, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunsses. "And you''re right. Snipers should never operate without support. I''ve been down that path once before. Paid the price for it. Besides. I figured I owed you."


    "Really?" I was genuinely confused. When he said ''I think our dealings are done here''st night, I figured we were square.


    "Yeah. If you want, I''ll help you out. Hang around till you find the man who shot you." He said, wasting no breath on unneeded words. I shrugged.


    "Hey, having a 1st Recon sniper around is absolutely fine by me. Cass? Any objections?" I said, turning to Cass. She just looked around at all the ferals littering the ground with holes in their heads, slowly leaking ck fluid onto the pavement.


    "I think I''ll be okay with it," she said with a smirk.


    The road up to the rocket test site was much less eventful with Boone around. We didn''t meet anotherrge pack of ghouls after the first one. Boone was picking them off with his sniper rifle before they could even get close to us.


    On the way there, though, we came across what looked like a makeshift bunker. It wasn''t a proper bunker, since there was no roof; it was more like a dugout, since it didn''t appear to be anything more than a few sandbags under a pedestrian overpass. ED-E beeped, I thought I heard Cass mutter something like "The fuck is this?" under her breath, and Boone continued to say nothing. When we got closer I could see a couple of chairs, a few bedrolls, and some ammo boxes. This most certainly didn''t look like the work of ferals. The really strange thing though, was the pile of ash nearby.


    "Energy weapons," Boone spoke up. I shot him a quizzical look.


    "Are you sure?" I knelt down next to the pile of ash, to give it a better look.


    "Yeah."


    "How can you tell?" I asked. To be honest, it looked like it was probably the work of some kind of energy weapon, but I couldn''t be absolutely sure. He pointed at a spot in the makeshift dugout.


    "That ghoul has aser rifle."


    I got up and took a look. There was, indeed, a dead ghoul where he was pointing, but it didn''t look like any of the ferals we''d run into on the way here. Quite aside from the boxyser rifle still clutched in his dead hands, this ghoul seemed much more intact well, more intact for a ghoul, anyway. His skin was mostly see-through, but it wasn''t falling off, and he even still had a bit of hair left. The really odd thing was the fact that this ghoul wore a dark green robe with brown trim. It almost made him look like a monk, or a scribe in the Brotherhood of Steel.


    "This guy isn''t a feral," I gave voice to my thoughts. Cass nodded.


    "There''s a difference?" Boone asked.


    "Well sure," Cass chimed in, as she went around the dugout-bunker, looking through the ammo cans and metal boxes, finding stuff to put in her duffle bag. "Y''ever been ta Necropolis? Whole city fu ghouls. Lot''s o'' them''r really nice, an'' willin'' ta trade. Regr ghouls''r just like people, y''know? S''th'' ferals that''r all crazy flesh-hungry zombies."


    "Hey Cass, think this''ll fetch a good price?" I''d grabbed theser rifle from the dead ghoul, and held it in the air for her to see.


    "Looks good, toss it ''ere!" she said.


    "Sure thing  but if you find any microfusion cells, I call dibs. I''ll need them for the car."


    "Car?" Boone raised an eyebrow.


    The first image we had of the rocket test site was a massive dome. It was set into the side of the mountain, and looked remarkably intact, despite being at least 200 years old. Nearby, also set into the mountain, was a mostly square four-story building, which looked much worse for wear than the dome. As we walked closer, we saw a sign by the side of the road. It looked made out of stone, and the "O" had fallen out of "REPCONN." Behind the sign and in front of the stairs leading to the building was a roundabout, with a rusted statue of a rocket ship with a yellow tip and five fins sticking out of the dirt.


    Four cracks from Boone''s sniper rifleter, and four more ghouls had fallen. I wanted to think that using my Pip Boys friend/foepass was helping me be a good spotter for Boone, but frankly it didn''t really seem like he needed my help all that much. ED-E zoomed ahead of us, flying up to get a good look at the rocket, and we made our way towards the dpidated office building. All around us, we saw more sandbag barricades, more dead ghouls, and more smoking ash piles. Suddenly, Boone stopped, and held up his hand to get our attention.


    "Hold up." He made his way towards one of the barricades, and knelt down to get a look at something behind the sandbag wall. I followed him cautiously, checking my Pip Boyspass again to make sure we were clear of any more hostiles. When I saw the figure lying on the ground that had caught Boone''s attention, I stopped in my tracks.


    "Is that what I think it is?" I asked Boone.


    "Yeah."


    Sprawled on the ground was a body, which had to be at least 10 feet tall and 4 feet wide. It was a mass of veiny, solid muscle, with dark blue skin stretched taught. There literally wasn''t a single ounce of fat on this creature. Its eyes were wide open, like it didn''t even have eyelids; the eyes were set deep in its skull underneath a heavy brow. Its mouth was held open and pulled up in a permanent sneer by two leather straps attached to its lips on both sides, showing a mouth full ofrge, perfectly straight (and strangely white) teeth. It wore a brown cloth hood covering an incredibly thick and wide head, a brown tunic around its waist, brown leather boots, and there was a stop sign wrapped around its right arm, like a shield held in ce by twisted metal rods bent around its arm. In the center of its chest was a gaping, cauterized hole  the killing blow from an energy weapon that didn''t turn it to a pile of ash.


    "What is it?" Cass said, poking it in the arm with the barrel of her shotgun.


    "It''s a super mutant," I said simply. That''s the only thing it could be. This one looked different from the other super mutants I''d seen in the past, however.


    "Wait, this is a super mutant? Never seen one up close, ''fore" Cass knelt down to get a better look at it. "Ugly fucker, ain''t he?"


    "Hang on," I said. "You''ve never seen a super mutant up close before? Didn''t you say you''ve been to Necropolis?" Cass nodded.


    "I have, but Necropolis is pretty fuckin'' big nowadays, an'' I never went too deep into th'' city. Only ever saw ghouls there. No mutants."


    "Commando," Boone chimed in. "Different kind of mutant. Regr mutants have green skin."


    "Amando?" Cass and I exchanged nces. I''d never heard of a super mutantmando before. Boone continued.


    "They specialize in hit and run tactics. They''re the only kind of mutants I''ve seen that use Stealth Boys. A normal mutant will run at you with a sledgehammer; amando will sneak up behind you and bash your skull in."


    "An'' how do <strong>you</strong> know all this, anyway?" Cass asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "1st Recon," was his only response. He walked up the stairs away from us, towards the building.


    When we opened the front door to the Repconn building, we were greeted by a scene of erupted chaos. Smears of dried blood painted the walls, broken up by bullet holes and burn marks. Robed ghouls with energy weaponsy on the ground all around; a dead super mutanty sprawled on the floor in front of the door, and I nearly tripped over it upon entering. There was a curved front desk behind the dead mutant, and above the desk was a model of a rocket, hanging from the ceiling. There were five doors  two on the far left and far right contained stairs which presumably led to the balcony above, two doors behind the front desk that led to bathrooms, and a door directly behind the desk that was ubeled.


    "Hey!" I heard an unfamiliar voice cry out. It sounded filtered, but it was rough and raspy, like a ghoul that hadn''t yet turned feral but who still had ruined vocal cords. I couldn''t quite tell where the voice wasing from.


    "Over here!" the voice sounded again. I looked around, and eventually found the source: an inte speaker mounted on the wall to my left. I carefully stepped over the mutant and walked over to the inte.


    "Are you even listening?" he said again, sounding agitated. I reached the inte, and pressed the talk button.


    "Yeah, I''m here," I said into the metal box. "Who''s this?"


    "Go to the big room on the east side of this building and take the metal staircase all the way up. And hurry," the raspy voice said, ignoring my question.


    "That''ll depend on who I''m talking to. Who are you?" I asked again.


    "Who I am doesn''t matter, smoothskin," he replied. "Stop wasting time and get up here! Find the metal staircase in the big room on the east side of the building, where they used to make rockets." With an audible click, the voice cut out.


    "Ominous little fucker, ain''t he?" Cass said, adjusting the strap on the duffel bag still slung across her back. ED-E beeped. Boone said nothing.


    "Well?" I asked, turning to mypanions. "What do you think? Should we find out what''s upstairs?"


    Before anyone could answer, a raw, loud, and horrifically inhuman screech filled the air. More ferals had arrived. I had just pulled out Roscoe when Boone leveled his rifle at a point up on the balcony and fired. A momentter, I saw a feral tumbling over the balcony railing, falling to the ground with a sickening wet crunch. ED-E floated up above the rocket and I heard a mixture of marching music and dischargingser sts.


    "Follow me!" I said to Cass, and we rushed to the stairs on the right  towards the east side of the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Boone backing up, covering the rear. Suddenly, a feral rounded the corner and was about to charge but there was a metal snapping sound, and the feral''s foot was caught in a bear trap. It howled in pain for only a moment; Cass put it out of its misery with a shotgun st to the face.


    "Keep an eye out  somebody''s set up traps," I said, cautiously peering around the corner and up the stairs. There was another feral at the top of the stairs, who had been snarling over the railing, but had turned and spotted me. I slipped into V.A.T.S.  hoping my action points (or whatever they were called) had recharged  and fired at the ghoul. The bullet went straight through its open mouth and out the back of its skull.


    There were only a few more ferals between us and the metal staircase we''d been instructed to find. The building seemed like a maze; I kept us on track, thanks to the map making feature of my Pip Boy though in truth, I probably didn''t need it: it only seemed like a maze because of the damage to the walls and the lights, not to mention all the dead ghouls and piles of ash everywhere. I had confidence enough in my own sense of direction, but better to be safe than sorry, I suppose.


    When we got to the east side of the building, there was a fork. One way was a staircase leading down. The other way was into arge factory floor. The door looked like it had been blown off its hinges, and was lying on top of a dead super mutant that no longer had a head. In the back of the room, just like the ominous voice had said, was a metal staircase leading upward. ED-E flew past me, and up into the rafters, past a half-finished rocket. He returned a momentter, and beeped cheerfully at me.


    "What d''ya suppose that means?" Cass asked. I shrugged.


    "With any luck, he''s saying the way is clear." As if to reassure me, the little robot bobbed in the air, almost like someone shaking their head. So, the four of us made our way up the twisting metal staircase until finally we came to a door with another inte speaker next to it. I went up to the door, and tried to turn the handle; it wouldn''t budge. The inte turned on with an audible click.


    "All right, smoothskin," the same voice as before said. "I''m letting you in. You better watch yourself. I''ll sure as hell be watching you." The inte turned off, and I heard a bolt in the door utched. I swung the door open, and was face to face  with a human. He was a balding man with thick eyebrows and moustache that looked interchangeable with one another; he looked to be in his forties, and he wore a whiteb coat over a shirt and tie.


    "God, but are you ugly!" he said, revealing himself as the unmistakable voice from behind the inte. "All of you yeesh! Get upstairs and talk to Jason before I throw up just from looking at you." I was confused, and looked to mypanions, but was met with simr uprehending faces.


    "Hang on," I finally said to him. "You don''t look like a ghoul." He just raised an eyebrow at me.


    "Your pranks won''t work on me, smoothskin," he practically snarled, crossing his arms over his chest. "They won''t work on Jason, either."


    "Y''know, yer skin looks pretty smooth to me," Cass said, mockingly.


    "Stop wasting my time, smoothskins!" he finally yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Go talk to Jason, and leave me alone!" And with that, he stormed off in a huff.


    "The fuck was that?" Cass asked me, trying to hold back augh. I shrugged, looking to Boone, who just silently shook his head. ED-E let out a series of beeps that I could swear sounded like a chuckle. The four of us made our way through the hallways and up a set of stairs, past banks ofputer terminals, and ghouls in the same robes we''d seen before milling about. When I reached the top of the stairs, I heard a voice from behind me  it was odd, and didn''t sound like a ghoul, but it didn''t sound human either. There was a weird sort of echoing quality to his speech that sounded almost alien.


    "Hello, and wee, wanderers." I turned to look at the man speaking  and this man was most certainly a ghoul. He was wearing robes simr to the other ghouls, except they were a deep burgundy, and looked to be in worse condition, having burned and frayed in many ces though that could be because this ghoul looked positively radioactive. Patches of his skin glowed with a bright green bioluminescence. Somehow, his eyes stood out as much as the glowing patches on his skin  they werepletely blue, with no iris, no pupil, and no sclera, just eyes that were a single solid color. His arms were extended in a weing gesture, and he was standing underneath a hole in the roof, bathing him in a shaft of sunlight that made him look otherworldly.


    "Please, forgive us our humble surroundings," he continued, reaching his hands to the sky. "Our true home awaits us in the Far Beyond."


    "Are you Jason?" I asked. He nodded, sping his hands together in front of him and smiling at me; even without showing any teeth, a smiling ghoul is a distinctly disturbing image.


    "Yes. I am Jason Bright, the prophet of the Great Journey. All the ghouls you see here are members of my flock. Have you and yourpatriotse to help usplete the Great Journey?" he asked, making more sweeping motions with his hands. If nothing else, he seemed to love gesticting.


    "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Cass spoke up, shaking her hands at Jason. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was trying as hard as she could not tough. "Yerst name is ''Bright?'' Yer shittin'' me! That''s hrious!"


    "An auspicious name, don''t you think?" Jason merely smiled again, seemingly taking no offense. "It was mine before I became as I am now. Before the Great War, even. Truly does The Creator author a destiny for each and every one of us."


    "Listen," I said, motioning for Cass to quiet down. "I''ll be honest. I don''t know anything about this Great Journey, or this creator you''re talking about. I''m here because Novac is worried about the feral ghouls wandering into their town." Which was true enough, even though Manny had specifically said the ghouls weren''t wandering; I thought it more diplomatic to me it on the ferals than to just say ''The people of Novac want you to leave, get the fuck out.'' Jason closed his eyes, and he hung his head slightly, his voice taking on a mncholy air.


    "And they''ve been shooting them down like animals, haven''t they?" I stayed quiet; it was probably a bad idea to mention all the ferals we had to fight through just to get up here. "Those ghouls were members of my flock, even after the madness consumed their minds. We never let them wander free. We kept them safe on the first floor. We kept them contained! The Demons must have let them out, somehow And now they are lost forever, denied the salvation and healing glow of the Far Beyond"


    "Tell me about the demons," I was surprised to hear Boone speak up.


    "The Demons appeared from nowhere except it might be more urate to say they never actually ''appeared'' at all. The Demons are invisible. Where one of them stands, the most one sees is the air shimmering, like sunlight on water" That sounded a lot like the super mutants we''d seen on the way in; the mandos'' Boone had talked about, using Stealth Boys. I looked to Boone, and he nodded, like he knew what I was thinking. Jason continued


    "They set upon us as we were on our way to worship one morning. We had just entered the basement. My flock fought bravely, and killed a few, but at such cost. Nearly half of our number died or went missing. What you see before you are all that remains. Once we retreated, one of the Demons raved at us, but they have not tried to attack us since. Still, their demonic presence brought all progress towards the Great Journey to the Far Beyond to a standstill."


    "Ok, you keep talking about it  what is this Far Beyond?" I asked, my curiosity finally getting the better of me.


    "I have glimpsed it only in visions, wanderer, but what I have seen is truly miraculous. It is a ce of light and healing, and I know in my soul that my flock will be safe there."


    "Well, that''s unhelpfully vague," Cass chimed in.


    "The means by which the Great Journey is to be aplished and any details of the Far Beyond are articles of faith, not to be discussed with outsiders. I apologize, but that is the dogma passed down to me by The Creator."


    "Alright, fair enough I guess. But toplete this Great Journey, you and all the ghouls will leave Repconn though, right? And will that include the ferals?" I asked, a thought having just urred to me. Jason nodded.


    "Once the way is clear, my brothers and sisters will gather any feral ghouls with us, and they shall apany us on the Great Journey if there are any left."


    I turned around, and motioned for Cass and Boone toe in close so I could speak to them (somewhat) in private. Even ED-E hovered in close.


    "Well? What do you think?" I asked, quietly.


    "I think he''s nuttier''n a bighorner droppin." Cass said bluntly.


    "There''smandos in the basement for sure," Boone said. "Don''t know how many."


    "That''s true," I said. "But if we can find some way to get rid of the super mutants, then the ghouls will leave, too, and that''s the whole reason I came up here."


    ED-E beeped at me. I wanted to say something, but just shook my head instead.


    "Will thatpass work if they''re stealthed?" Boone asked, pointing at my Pip Boy. I took a look at it, bringing up thepass. There was no way to tell from the bars on thepass what was being tracked, how far away it was, or if it could track someone who was stealthed; hell, if there were a lot of contacts, they tended to mix in with one another, so a lot of times it would be impossible to tell how many it was tracking. It was a very basic friend/foe indicator.


    "I''ll be honest, I don''t know." There was a long pause.


    "Commandos are tough," Boone said finally. "But they''re not invincible. I''m game if you are." I nodded.


    "Hopefully it won''t have toe to that  I''ve met mutants in Necropolis before, and well, to be honest, the ones that I met seemed decent enough. With any luck, we can convince the mutants to leave along with the ghouls." I turned to Cass. "Well? What do you think? Can we handle some mutants in the basement?" Cass pulled theser rifle out of her duffel bag and loaded a microfusion cell in it.


    "If we''re goin'' down there, I''m usin'' this. Don'' think my shotgun''ll do fuck all if''n ites to blows, but if all the ash piles''r any indication, they disintegrate like ev''ryone else."


    "ED-E?" I asked, not really expecting an answer. The robot beeped happily, bobbing in the air as if nodding like it did before. Good enough for me. I turned around to face Jason again.


    "Alright, I''ve talked it over with my friends, and we''ll help you with your ''demon'' problem, so long as you and the rest of the ghouls leave after we''re done. Deal?" In response, Jason held his hands up to the hole in the roof again.


    "Praise The Creator! Bless you, wanderers! Bless us all! Once again, The Creator has sent a human to help us across a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. As soon as the underground has been rid of The Demons, preparations for the Great Journey can resume!"


    Jason had given us a key to unlock the door that led to the basement. When the door opened, the pungent aroma of sweaty socks and engine exhaust sted me in the face. Only a few of the lights in the first room we entered worked. There was an odd mechanical thrumming noise reverberating through the walls that sounded like a generator of some kind  or several.


    The four of us made our way through the basement, as quietly as we could. I had Roscoe drawn, but frankly if we did end up running into any super mutants, I wasn''t sure it would do any good. I was busying myself, checking my Pip Boy''spass. There were a few red pips, but because the tunnels in the basement seemed to twist and turn, I couldn''t tell if the enemies it was picking up were stealthed or not.


    Eventually, we came to a fork in the road. Left or right. Both led further down into the basement. Using apletely scientific method that wasn''t in any way a random guess, I picked the right passage. We walked down the path for a bit, until we got to a door  at which point a green pip shed on mypass from behind the door. A friendly?


    "Hang back a bit," I whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Watch the exit." I checked the door, and it slid open with a shudder and a ng. Inside was  a super mutant! This super mutant looked like he should have been as tall as the corpses we''d seen if he stretched up to his full height, but because he was hunching over so much, he looked about 7 and a half, maybe 8 feet tall. He was blue skinned, just like the others, but covered in more furs and leathers, some of it dyed red. He was just sort of standing behind a desk, holding a brahmin skull in his hands. He was holding it so that it almost looked like it was looking at him. When I opened the door, he didn''t seem to notice me right away.


    "What''s that, Antler? We have a visitor?" He spoke in a loud, gravelly roar, but not to me  he was talking to the skull. It didn''t sound like he could speak in a voice quieter than a yell. "An assassin, more like! I say kill it, Antler! For safe''s sake! Huh?  Okay, Antler. I''ll ask." He set the skull down on a nearby coffee machine, positioned so the skull was ''looking'' at me. He set a hand on the desk, and stared at me with bulging eyes. This time when he spoke, he spoke to me, and spoke slowly  almost like I wouldn''t understand if he spoke faster. "Uh Hi. Human. Why youe here?"


    "Uh are you alright?" I asked, unsure what was going on. Cass and Boone had both rushed to see what themotion was and were starting to raise their weapons at the super mutant, when I waved them off.


    "I AM IN COMMAND OF MY FACULTIES!" He yelled even louder. He mmed a giant fist on the desk, denting it and making the skull bounce in the air a few inches. "IN COMMAND OF MY TROOPS!" He calmed down a little, and went back to his normal gravelly roar-speaking voice. "Antler guides me in all things! As I in turn guide my kin!"


    Of the myriad emotions and thoughts swirling around my head, "Don''t upset the crazy super mutant" seemed the most sane. So I decided to answer his first question.


    "You asked why I''m here, right? Uh well, Jason Bright and the ghouls upstairs sent me down to uh, talk to you." I lied. He eyed me apprehensively.


    "A human who is friend to ghouls? Suspicious. Antler used inte, told them stay put. But they want toe down in basement anyways? I cannot allow. My kin are not right in head like I am. They attack you on sight. Ghouls too. THEY CRAZY!" As if to illustrate the point, the super mutant waved his arms about. "Your ghoul friends have to wait until we find what Antler brought us to get. Antler brought us here for reason! Er" He looked confused for a moment, then stared down at the brahmin skull. "What was that, Antler?" He paused, as if waiting for a response. "Right! A piece of paper! Shipment invoice! Hundreds of Stealth Boys! Sent here, long time ago! But Stealth Boys must be in the one room. One we don''t search yet  the one we can''t search."


    "Why not?" Cass chimed in, having been listening to the super mutant rant. It''s not like she could''ve ignored him if she wanted to.


    "A ghoul!" He yelled. "But not squishy like others! This ghoul is tough. I thought Antler said send my kin into that room, but three died. Ghoul is crack shot, and set traps too! After, I realize I heard Antler wrong. So I lock door to keep kin out, and wait for Antler to tell me what to do. Then YOUe along! Antler says you are solution!" He pointed a thick finger in my direction, staring at me.


    I rubbed the scar on my temple. This is getting ridiculous, I thought to myself.


    "If I find the Stealth Boy stockpile for you, will you and your er, kin, leave, and let the ghoulse back down to the basement?"


    "Yes!" I couldn''t tell if he was happy, since his face didn''t change expression, but it almost sounded like he was happy. Sort of. "Antler says we leave here as soon as we get Stealth Boys! Let me give you key. Antler had me lock the door. The ghoul inside not expecting a human. Maybe he don''t shoot you. Maybe he do. Now go! Find Stealth Boys!"


    He threw the key at me, and it hit me in the middle of my forehead with a lot more force than I was expecting. I gave him a nod, a forced smile, and a friendly wave goodbye as I picked the key up off the ground and shut the door. As soon as it shut, my smile evaporated and I just let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the wall, and rubbing my forehead.


    "Ok," I said finally. "So. What do we do?"


    "The situation hasn''t changed," Boone said simply. "You should''ve just let me shoot him."


    "Thanks for that, Boone," I said, rubbing my forehead. "But frankly, I''d much rather not fight super mutants if I don''t have to  especially since all I have is Roscoe here." I held up my 9mm, to illustrate the point. Most reliable pistol I''d ever had, sure, but by no stretch of the imagination was it powerful; not to mention, I''d heard stories in the past about super mutants shrugging off bullets to the face from an assault rifle. What good was Roscoe going to do?


    "Well hell, if y''needed more firepower, why didn''t ya jus'' ask?" Cass said, reaching into her duffel bag and pulling out a sma rifle. It wasn''t boxy like theser rifle; this was all curves and pipes and tubes and bulges. It looked dowright alienpared to Roscoe.


    "Where the hell did you find that?"


    "One of th'' ghouls on th'' way up had it. Swiped it so we could sell it, but I figure, we can use it too. Or, t''least you." I holstered Roscoe and took the sma rifle with a nod. It was a lot lighter than I was expecting. "So what''s th'' n?" she continued. "We helpin'' th'' muties now?"


    "Let''s at least check out the room," I said with a sigh. "With luck, the ghoul will know if there are Stealth Boys, and hopefully we won''t run into any cloaked super mutants on the way." ED-E beeped in conformation, and floated off, towards the other path in the fork. I followed, sma rifle drawn; Cass fell in behind me with her lootedser rifle; Boone stayed in the rear. A few momentster, we were at the door. It had to be where the ghoul was: sprawled in front of the door was a dead super mutant: 2 bullet holes in its skull, and 5 in its chest. Cautiously, I opened the door, and kept behind the doorframe as it opened. There was a bang, and a rifle bullet embedded itself in the metal floor by my feet with a ping.


    "Come and get it, you big dumb ugly -" the unmistakable gravelly voice of a ghoul yelled. I cut him off midsentence, yelling back at him from behind the doorframe.


    "We''re not mutants! Hold your fire!" There was a long pause. Cautiously, I stepped through the door into the room. There was another dead mutant lying face first on the ground in front of me. All around the room, I could see traps  trip wires, bear traps, disturbed gravel that looked like it could be some kind of disguised mines These were the same kind of traps I''d seen upstairs, obviously set by the same ghoul. Off in the far corner was another super mutant, his foot caught in a bear trap and half of his face was simply gone. Cass and ED-E followed me, but Boone stayed outside, watching the rear.


    "Huh. You''re not one of those things out there." The ghoul said, stating the obvious. He wasn''t wearing robes like the other ghouls upstairs; his outfit was much more practical, covered with ammo and pouches. He was holding a rifle in his hands, and a pair of goggles hung around his neck. "Who the hell are you?"


    "Jason sent me down here to get rid of the ''demons.'' He didn''t tell me there were any ghouls left down here." I said, looking up at him. He was on the 2nd floor of the room, crouched on a catwalk that not only gave him cover, but an elevated position. Smart. He let out a sound; I couldn''t tell if it was augh or a cough.


    "And I bet he told you it''s the creators will for you to risk your ass, instead of him, right? Well, good luck with that. I''d give you a hand, but no thanks. I may look like a corpse, but I''m partial to living!" He spat on the catwalk.


    "How''d you end up trapped in here?" I asked. I couldn''t be sure, but I could swear I saw the corners of his mouth twitch when I asked.


    "First off, I''m not trapped. This was a tactical choice, all right? I''m no match for those things out there, so I found a good defensible position, and I''ve been defending it, all right?" I said nothing, but continued to look up at him. He looked nervous, but eventually shook his head. "Aw, who am I fooling? I''m trapped, I admit it. Name''s Hand. Pleased to meet you," he said with another coughingugh.


    "Nice to meet you, Hand. I''m Sheason. This is Cass, and er, ED-E." I said, pointing to mypanions.


    "What happened was, I was escorting folks down to work when those things attacked us. Most of the fight was upstairs, but some folks panicked and made for the basement and like a moron, I went after them. Turns out, there were even more of the bastards down here than upstairs, and things went to shit fast. I couldn''t find the others, so I fell back to this room and set up a nice kill zone. End of story."


    "Y''know, y''don''t look like th'' other ghouls" Cass said to him when he finished his story.


    "Guess the outfit gives that away, huh?" He said, with yet another coughingugh. "I never did buy into all that religious mumbo-jumbo with the robes and all that shit. What can I say, it gets lonely out in the wastes, okay? And I don''t have to tell you that Bright''s group has got some fine lookin'' ghoulettes in it!"


    There was a very, very awkward pause.


    "Er" he finally thought about what he said. "I guess, maybe I would have to tell you" he muttered something about smoothskins that I couldn''t quite make out, and continued. "Anyway, I helped them out, and they kept me supplied with food, ammo, and pleasantpany."


    "So, how the hell have you survived down here, anyway?" I asked.


    "I''m not delicate," Hand stated, like it was just a fact of life. "Radroach meat for protein, condensation off the pipes for water, and I do my business over in the far corner."


    There was another awkward pause.


    "I wouldn''t say it''s beenfy."


    "Look, do you know why the super mutants are here?" He shook his head, and I continued. "They''re here, because they''re looking for a cache of Stealth Boys. This is the only room in the building they haven''t searched, and once they find the Stealth Boys, they''re gone. Do you know if there''s any Stealth Boys in here?" He just stared at me like I was stupid.


    "Do you really think if there was anything in here that made me invisible, I''d still be here?"


    "Can we take a look around?" Cass asked.


    "No." Hand said forcefully. I felt my eye twitch.


    "Why not?" I asked.


    "For one thing, the room is still full of traps  and I don''t want them going off unless they have to. You can search the room to your hearts content when I leave." I suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; somehow, I knew where this was going.


    "Is there any way I can help you out of this room then?" I said, trying not to sound angry through gritted teeth. This had gone beyond ridiculous. A part of me wondered if it wouldn''t have just been easier to shoot everyone who wanted to send me somewhere else and be done with it.


    "Hurm," he growled. "Well. You''re certainly polite, I''ll give you that." I couldn''t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.


    "And if this was just between you and me," he continued, "I''d leave, but it''s not. I had a friend with me when the muties came out of nowhere. She panicked and ran the wrong direction  further into the basement. She''s probably dead, but I ain''t leaving until I know for sure. I''d have gone myself, except I wouldn''tst a minute out there. All of you, on the other hand, seem pretty resourceful. Find my friend, and I''ll get out of your way. You can search the room for non-existent Stealth Boys till your eyes burst after that." I looked to Cass. She just shrugged.


    "Let''s help th'' boy out," she said. "We''re already here, why th'' fuck not?"


    "Alright," I said with resignation, looking back up at Hand. "We''ll help you find your friend."


    "Thanks," he said. "Let me know what you find out." He paused, then added softly and mostly to himself "Here''s hoping she''s okay"


    The path to the deeper parts of the basement was incredibly, unbelievably tense. I had my eyes on my Pip Boy almost constantly, checking the map and the friend/foepass to make sure we didn''t get lost in thebyrinthine maze of twisting metal corridors, and that we stayed clear of any super mutants.


    Eventually, the four of us entered a fairlyrge room off one of the hallways; the room was dimly lit, and had a few banks of powered-downputer mainframes on one side. As soon as we entered, I heard a noise from the doorway on the other side of the room. It was a loud, rhythmic thumping sound, like heavy footfalls against a metal grate. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Boone practically disappear into the shadows made by the mainframes, and Cass swiftly (but less quietly) followed him; even ED-E stayed silent, floating into the darkness of the ceiling. I pressed myself t against the wall, looking at my Pip Boy''spass. One of the red pips was moving in time with the footfalls, before both it and the sound stopped right near the door. Cautiously, I did my best to get a look outside the door without being seen.


    Just outside the door, I could see the faint silhouette of arge figurepletely filling the doorframe but it didn''t look natural. For one thing, inside the silhouette, I could see the wall behind, but distorted slightly, like trying to view something through a piece of warped ss or through some water. But mostly, it felt unnatural because there was a green outline around the distortion, exactly like the kind of outline I''d see when V.A.T.S. would activate, except fainter. I could hear the figure breathing heavily, low and loud, growling like a deathw as it stood there or it could have just been me breathing that heavily, I''m not really sure. My heart was pounding in my ears, and I could feel a few droplets of sweat form on my face; I tried my damnedest to keep my breathing constant, staying as still as I possibly could. I heard the beast snort loudly, and the outline moved away from the doorframe. I checked my Pip Boy  the red pip on thepass moved along with the visual distortion.


    Ok. So. The Pip Boypass actually could track a stealthed super mutant. Good to know.


    Somehow, knowing that most of these red pips were most likely stealthed super mutants both calmed me down and set me on edge simultaneously. On the one hand, now I knew exactly what we were dealing with, and could avoid them that much better now. On the other hand, this just confirmed that the super mutants down here were invisible. Which, I''ll be honest, wasn''t an ideal situation by any stretch of the imagination. There was one upside: because I''d been keeping such a close eye on the red pips, and the map maker on my Pip Boy was doing its job, I was able to take this new data and figure out that the super mutants down here were either milling about and remaining stationary, or patrolling hallways in patterns that I finally had all the pieces to see.


    Finally, the four of us had managed to sneak our way through the corridors and past the super mutants,ing to a door that (ording to my Pip Boy) led to the lowest essible part of the basement. Mypass registered a single red pip from inside the room. With any luck, I''d be able to get the door open without the super mutant on the other side knowing.


    Unfortunately, it seems all our luck had been used up sneaking past the super mutants to get to this point. I barely touched the door, and the hydraulics kicked in, sliding it down into the floor and the walls with a screech of metal against metal. I heard a loud, low snorting-growl from inside, followed by heavy stomping footfallsing towards us.


    Before I could react, ED-E zoomed over my head into the room, triumphant bugle music ying over its speaker. From around the corner, a distortion muchrger than the one I''d seen earlier came around the corner, roared, and balls of fire materialized in the air after ED-E; the robot just zoomed around the room ahead of the fireballs, distracting the mutant. I ran into the room  not after ED-E, but to what was (I assumed) behind the mutant. The air shimmered around it as gouts of me surged forth. I didn''t know where Cass and Boone were  hopefully, they were right behind me.


    As quick as I could, I leveled my sma rifle towards the distortion in the air. The sma rifle fired agonizingly slow; much slower than I was expecting. I squeezed the trigger as fast as I could, but only a single burst of superheated green sma exited the barrel and impacted on the stealthed figure. My nostrils burned as the air became flush with the smell of ozone. Lightning crackled, and the stealth field started to falter, making the super mutant barely visible. It roared and turned towards me, murder in its face. ED-E flew around and hit the methrower the mutant was carrying with a st from hisser. The methrower glowed brightly for half a second, and then the mutant dropped it to the floor with a ng.


    Despite that, the mutant''s attention was still firmly focused on me. I pulled the trigger again, but the rifle was still charging; I let out a short, violent profanity and started to run for any kind of cover. I cast a nce behind me, and saw it pull a de off of its back which looked like the front bumper of my car. I rolled away, leveling the sma rifle again, and fired another sma bolt at it. Unfortunately it went way too high and impacted with a ssh of melting superheated metal on the ceiling above the mutant.


    There was a crack of a rifle, and the mutant''s head was knocked violently to the side. Boone had gotten behind and to the side of the mutant, his rifle pointed square at the giant''s skull. It turned to Boone with a roar, just as Boone fired again. The mutant staggered back slightly, clutching its face for half a second before swinging its bumper-sword towards Boone with a crash. Boone dove out of the way, just as the metal floor where he was standing buckled under the force of the mutants swing.


    A pair ofser sts cut through the air and hit the monster square in the back. ED-E was flying over Cass, and they were both firing theirsers. I fired another st of sma, striking the monster in the arm; a red hot disk of swiftly cooling molten sma smoldered on its skin. It roared, not sure which of us to attack first, howling in pain.


    It settled on me, and started to charge, with its bumper-sword raised in the air. I was about to fire another sma st, but quite suddenly the super mutant''s whole body jerked backwards violently, and it dropped the bumper-sword. When his head rocked forwards, I saw a hand firmly grasped on one of the leather straps holding its mouth up in the permanent snarl. It hunched over, iling its arms to try and reach Boone, who was riding on the back of the super mutant. His beret and sunsses were not on his face, and the hand that wasn''t holding onto the mutant was carrying a wicked looking bowie knife. With a shout almost as loud as the mutant, Boone brought the bowie knife down into the mutant''s chest. The super mutant let out a howl, and Boone stabbed him in the chest twice more before bringing it up and stabbing the mutant under the chin, burying the knife up to the hilt. There was a wet gurgle, and even from where I was standing I could see the mutant''s eyes roll and look in opposite directions. Dark red blood seeped out of its mouth and from the wound under its chin as Boone pulled out the knife. The super mutant wobbled in ce for a good five seconds, before Boone jumped off and the mutant toppled forwards, dead.


    If not for the loud thudding of machinery and generatorsing from the level below us, the room would''ve beenpletely silent. There weren''t any sounds of mutantsing into the room to see what all the noise was, so that was good. Cass and I were both breathing heavily. ED-E let loose a burst of victorious marching music. Boone merely walked over to the mutant, wiped the blood on his knife onto the mutant''s tunic, and then turned to where his beret and sunsses had fallen, picking them up without a sound. When he picked up his rifle, I pointed at the massive corpse.


    "And that," I said, still gasping for air, "that is the reason I don''t want to fight super mutants unless I have to."


    Boone let out a soft, throaty chuckle and smirked.


    We descended further into the basement. I didn''t see any contacts on my Pip Boy this far down, so the four of us were much more rxed than up above. The thudding we''d heard in the room above during our fight with the mutant was much more pronounced here, thanks to the massive generators taking up most of the space in these rooms.


    The four of us spread out, trying to find Hand''s friend. Almost immediately, Cass hollered something barely audible over the thump of the generators, so I followed her voice to see what she''d found, as did Boone and ED-E.


    Lying on the ground in one of the side rooms was the body of a female ghoul. She wore a robe like the rest of Bright''s religious ghouls, and her eyes had rolled back in her head. Arge dark stain of dried blood covered the floor around her head, and when I knelt in to get a close look, I could see the top of her skull had beenpletely caved in. Boone and Cass said nothing, but ED-E let out a series of sad sounding beeps. I was just about to get up and leave, so we could tell Hand the bad news when I noticed something shiny out of the corner of my eye. She had something clutched in her hand; a small ne, with a pendant made out of what looked like a tiny piece of scrap metal, crudely fashioned into the shape of a heart. An "H" had been scratched in the middle.


    "Well?" Hand asked, as the four of us came back to his trap-filled room. "Did you find my friend?"


    I nodded, grimacing. "I''m sorry," I said up to him. He was silent for a few moments.


    "I see. Well spare me the details," he spat on the catwalk again. Then, he said under his breath "Damnit, I''m gonna miss that crooked, yellow smile" he turned back to me and continued, grabbing a few boxes of rifle ammo off the floor and shoving them into the pockets on his jacket.. "Alright. You did your part. Look around up here if you want. I''m gonna make a break for topside." He disappeared from view, and a few secondster a door on the far wall opened, revealing a staircase to the upper level. Rifle in hand, he made his way past the traps and towards the exit. I held up a hand to stop him.


    "Hey, before you go," I said, pulling the small ne out of one of my jacket pockets. "She was holding this. I thought you might want it."


    He took it in his hands, and looked at it. Ghouls are really hard to read sometimes. I think part of that could be because they no longer have any skin to speak of. He let a breath out of the hole on his face where his nose used to be, and looked up at me while cing it in one of the pockets on his jacket. He nodded at me.


    "Thanks," he said in a whisper that just ended up sounding more like a growl. And with that, he rushed out of the room towards the surface.


    "Alright," I said to mypanions. "Let''s check to see if this room has any Stealth Boys." We spread out  ED-E and I took the upstairs, while Boone and Cass checked the downstairs. I was halfway up the stairs when I heard a rifle shot, followed by a lot of loud bangs.


    "Boone got ridda'' th'' mines!" I heard Cass yell up at me. I just smiled and shook my head, continuing up.


    I searched without sess through a lot of crates in the upstairs of this room that looked like they hadn''t been opened in 200 years. Eventually, I found aputer terminal sitting on a desk. It was plugged into the wall, and amazingly was still powered up. I set my rifle on the desk, and took a look, hoping it would give me any information about the Stealth Boys. At first, it didn''t want to cooperate, but I gave a strong whack on the side; the screen flickered and then (with a little more prodding) divulged its secrets.


    Mostly, the terminal just had messages between people working in the offices upstairs from before the bombs fell. Then I found three messages that looked promising. The first,beled as "RE: Shipment Mistake?" looked like the message the super mutant with Antler was talking about. It was mostly talking about things that had lost all relevance over 200 years ago, but it did eventually make mention of "a bunch of crates containing two gross of devices called ''StealthBoys''."


    The next message I saw wasbeled "RE: Workce Misbehavior" and was apparently sent to all Repconn staff, informing them that they needed to "give a thorough reading to Repconn''s sexual harassment and workce behavior policies," and that "while it is not explicitly stated in the Employee Handbook, unauthorized use of military hardware against fellow employees is grounds for immediate termination." I couldn''t help but chuckle at the implications.


    Thest one, however, seemed the most relevant:


    <em>REPCONN Inter-office Correspondence #3486289</em>


    <em>To: RobCo HQ Supply Department</em>


    <em>From: Sanjeev Rajan, REPCONN Custodian</em>


    <em>RE: Shipment Sent Back</em>


    <em>Hi RobCo Supply:</em>


    <em>We are sending two (2) crates of devicesbeled "StealthBoys" back to you. ording to the manifest, each crate contained one gross (144) of the devices. As a result of employee misbehavior (not mine!), one crate was opened and is missing five (5) Stealthboys. Sorry about that.</em>


    <em>Sincerely,</em>


    <em>Sanjeev Rajan, Custodian</em>


    I checked the side of theputer: I''d seen this kind of RobCo terminal model out in the wastnd before (when RobCo built something, they built it tost), and most of them had a built in printer. With any luck, it still had paper. If nothing else, I could try downloading it to my Pip Boy and showing it to the super mutant that way


    With a button press, the printer activated with a metallic whir, and a printout of the message slid out of the side of theputer.


    I knocked on the door to the mutant''s room before opening it. It slid open with a hiss of hydraulics, and the mutant turned to look at me.


    "Antler sings for Stealth Boys! Have you found them?" the mutant said to me.


    "The manifest you found had bad information. There isn''t a stockpile of Stealth Boys here," I said simply, the printout in my hand.


    "LIAR!" he yelled, pointing a thick finger at me. "The invoice said Stealth Boys here! Antler read it out loud to me!"


    "The Stealth Boys were sent here by mistake," I said, handing him the printout. "They were sent back, take a look. Seriously, just look at the timestamp." The mutant grabbed the piece of paper violently, and stared at it with bulging eyes. He then turned to a filing cab behind him, and pulled out another, much dirtier, piece of paper, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two.


    "But invoice note said Stealth Boys were here! Why can''t this note be true?" he said, holding up the dirty paper. He turned to the brahmin skull next to him. "What, Antler?  But human could be lying! Stealing the Stealth Boys for himself!" There was a pause, and then the mutant continued. "Oh, Antler! You trust so easy" He turned to look at me, tossing the dirty paper aside. "Your lucky day, human. Antler believe you. Nightkin will follow the new note to find Stealth Boys. Better be there."


    With a crackle of lightning and belch of ozone, the mutant grabbed the brahmin skull and disappeared, his shimmering outline walking past me, Cass, Boone, and ED-E, and exited out the door. His footfalls resonated against the metal grates as he left. For some reason, my mind hadtched onto something he''d said that confused me.


    "Nightkin?"


    "Hello, wanderers," Jason Bright said in that odd, echoing voice of his. "Is the way clear?"


    "Yup," Cass said before I could respond. "Th'' ''demons'' downstairs''r gone."


    "Praise the creator! And bless you, wanderers!" he said, reaching out with a smile to shake our hands. I put on my best poker face as he shook mine; his skin was both disturbingly cold and mmy and ufortably warm at the same time. I heard the Geiger counter on my Pip Boy click twice. "Really, bless you all. The way is finally clear. I will lead my flock through the basement to the sacred site!"


    "Sacred site?" I heard Boone ask. Jason nodded.


    "I hope you will alle and find us there. There is still much work to be done." And with that, he bowed, walking past us and saying in a loud voice so all the ghouls could hear: "Come, my brothers and sisters! Our Great Journey into the Far Beyond is imminent! Let us make our way to the sacred site!" As one, all the ghouls stopped what they were doing, and followed him down the stairs and out the door.


    We ended up following them back down to the basement. Thankfully, the super mutant had made good on his promise to clear out and the only mutants we saw on the way down were already dead. We followed them through the basement, into the same room where we''d talked with the crazy mutant that had the brahmin skull; turns out, there was a hidden door behind him in that room that led to a separate part of the basement. We followed the ghouls as they made their way through the tunnels (this part of the basement looked more like a disused sewer of some kind, as opposed to an actual basement), and finally, we found Jason who was standing at a ss window, looking out into another room. Most of the ghouls had descended into a hatch on the far right of the room, which shut just as we entered. Jason turned to greet us with a smile.


    "I wanted to speak with you onest time before I descended to theunch pad, wanderers," he said.


    Launch pad? A sense of dawningprehension was looming over my head.


    "I want you to know that we will remember for all eternity how you delivered us to the threshold of the Great Journey. Our preparations are nearlyplete, but the rockets that will carry us to salvation are yet missing a vitalponent." I walked further into the room, and I got a look at what was on the other side of the window: there were three decently sized rockets, pointed up and withdders leading up to hatches on the side. He continued. "If you would still help us, wanderers, speak to Chris. He can tell you what is missing. There is no way that we can thank you enough. Your arrival here was a blessing  we will remember you always!" Looking at the rockets, I was dumbstruck.


    "Are you seriously going to make your great journey on those rockets?" I said, voicing my disbelief. He merely nodded, as Cass and Boone came up to the windows to look at the rockets as well.


    "Yes. The rockets will convey us to our promisednd in the Far Beyond. Vision upon vision has confirmed it."


    "Those rockets''ll convey you''n yer flock straight into th'' fuckin'' ground!" Cass said, her own disbelief matching my own. Jason merely smiled again.


    "I understand your concerns, friend. And I thank you for voicing them. But The Creator''s will for us has been made manifest."


    I rubbed the scar on my temple. I couldn''t believe that this was what we''d been building up to. I just hoped that if the rockets even left theunch pad, they wouldn''te down in a popted area, like Novac for instance. In any case, the ghouls would at least leave, and I could get what I needed from Manny. But first, I wanted to ask him a question.


    "Alright. Before we help you get whatever it is you need to leave, I have to ask: what''s the deal with Chris?" Jason nodded solemnly.


    "After all that you have done for us, I suppose you deserve to know everything. When Chris came to us, we tried to convince him that he was human. But this only angered him. He seemed" Jason seemed to struggle for the words. "lost. We decided to let him stay with us for a few days, over the course of which we learned that his technical skills far surpassed our own. It became clear that The Creator had sent him to us, to ensure the sess of the Great Journey. Equally clear was that Chris shouldbor in blessed ignorance of his humanity, and his inability to make the journey himself."


    "Inability" I repeated, a new piece falling into ce. "You''re just going to leave him here, aren''t you?" Might not be a bad thing, I thought to myself, if these rockets were going to end up plummeting to the ground.


    "Such is The Creators will. Vision upon vision has shown me that, were Chris to apany us, he would surely die. The radiation around theunch pad alone would kill Chris in minutes. The radioactivity of the Far Beyond is much stronger. It is my belief that The Creator sent you and Chris to expiate the sins of your kind against mine. You are all redeemers, and Chris shall be dered the Saint of the Great Journey before we depart. I hope this will ease his sadness" Jason turned from us, making his way towards the hatch on the far right of the room.


    "There is no way that we can thank you enough, wanderers. Your arrival here was a blessing, and we will remember you always." And with that, he descended through the hatch into theunch pad. I just stared at the rockets on the other side of the ss for a minute, before I heard a hacking cough from behind me.


    "Alright smoothskins, here''s the deal," Chris said entering the room, looking annoyed as ever. "Jason says that I am to cooperate with you on the final task necessary tounch the Great Journey. Its taken months, but I''ve nearly gotten the rockets in working order. I was close to finishing before we were driven into hiding on the top floor. Luckily, I''m only missing one thing: a set of Repconn thrust control modules. They were custom built for the rockets, and they won''t evenunch without them."


    "Ok," I said, shrugging. "So do you know where I can find them?" Chris just continued to look annoyed.


    "Feh. Repconn has been ransacked so many times by scavengers, I have no idea where theponents might turn up. But, when you find them, bring them back here, so I can install them into theunch panel." He paused, staring at me with a raised eyebrow. "Well? What are you waiting for, smoothskin?"


    "Fine," I said sighing and rubbing my eyes. "Whatever." I turned and walked out, Cass, Boone and ED-E following me. I turned to mypanions, and said in a mocking, incredulous tone "Well, does anyone know where I can find a set of Repconn thrust control modules at this hour?"


    "Gibson''s scrap yard," Boone replied immediately. I stopped dead in my tracks, bringing everyone to a halt. The three of us  even ED-E  just stared at him, and he looked back at us from behind his sunsses with a nk expression.


    "What?"


    I checked the clock on my Pip Boy as we made our way through the north part of Novac. It wasn''t even noon yet. For some reason, it felt like it should''ve been much, muchter.


    "Ok Boone," I said as we got close to the scrap yard at the north end of town. "Why are you so sure we''ll find it here?"


    "Novac''s been scavenging Repconn for years," he said as we made our way to the garage. "Everything ends up here sooner orter."


    The entrance was two cars holding each other up in the shape of an upside-down "V" with a wooden sign that had "Gibson''s Scrap Yard" scrawled on it in crude white paint. There were rusted hulks of cars inside the fence, most of them stacked on top of one another. The concrete building in the center of the yard, surrounded by piles of scrap metal and barrels and boxes looked like it used to be a garage where people would get their cars fixed before the war. There were at least three dogs in the yard. I''m not really a dog person, so I couldn''t really tell you what breed they were, except that they were big grey and brown mutts. One of the dogs was sleeping near the front door of the garage, another was sleeping on top of one of the rusted cars, and the third was sitting on the roof, staring down at all of us.


    I pushed open the door, a rusted bell tinkling above me, and was instantly greeted by two more massive dogs. They barked, bounding out of nowhere towards me, and looked up expectantly, panting heavily at me.


    "Reina! Colmillo! Heel, girls!" I heard a female voice yell at the dogs. The dogs ran to the owner of the voice  an elderly woman with short grey hair and a grey-brown dress  who was standing behind a counter inside the room. Behind her stood a fridge and a Nuka-C machine that flickered asionally. She smiled at me, and waved.


    "Hi there! I''m Old Lady Gibson or, at least, that''s what the townies call me." She smirked, and continued. "I''ve got odds and ends for sale, and I''m fair handy with a wrench on asion. What can I do ya for?"


    "I''m looking for a specific piece of tech. I was hoping I could take a look at what you''ve got for sale," I said. She looked thoughtful for a few seconds.


    "You''re not thinking of trying your luck at HELIOS One, up to the north, are you?" She asked. From behind me, I heard a few odd beeps that sounded like it came from ED-E. "Thest couple yahoos that came in had juste from there, looking for medical supplies, of all things. NCR''s taken that ce over, so it''s off limits to prospectors or people who value their limbs."


    "No, nothing like that," I said, shaking my head. "Repconn tech is what I''m looking for. Thrust control modules  have any?"


    "That''s a real specialized piece of kit you''re asking for. And, as it just so happens, I think I do have some thrust modules in back. Some prospectors brought them in a few months ago, before the ghouls moved into the test site but they''re expensive. 500 caps worth of expensive."


    Oh boy, I thought to myself. Here we go  time for some haggling.


    "Hmm I don''t know 500 seems a little steep. I''d be willing to give you 150 for them."


    "150 is absolutely out of the question," she said, firmly. "For that price, I might as well just give them away. But, if 500 is too rich, I think I might be able to drop the price to 350."


    "How about this," I said, cing the sma rifle on the counter. "250 caps  unless you think you''ll find another buyer soon for such a specialized part?  and I''ll give you this sma rifle to help offset any losses. It''s used, sure, but it should be worth at least 200, maybe 250 caps. Deal?" Honestly, I wasn''t losing much. The damn sma rifle fired so slow, I figured it was broken, but hey, she didn''t need to know that. Plus, I figured we could more than make up the difference by selling even more of the crap Cass had collected after we got the rocket part. She regarded the sma rifle on her counter, and then shrugged.


    "Eh, fair enough. It''s not like anyone''s ever wanted to buy them before. 250 caps and a sma rifle it is then. Just give me a minute  it''s in the back somewhere and I need to find it." And with that, she left the room.


    When I turned to my otherpanions behind me, ED-E hovered up to me, beeping incredibly loud right in my face. Before I could ask what was wrong, I heard a series of four shrill beeps, and then a voice came from the speaker  like someone was talking through it.


    "Subject E: Diagnosisplete. Begin recording. My name is Whitley. I''m a researcher at Adams Air Force base. Until recently, I was in charge of the Duraframe reinforcement project for thebat model Eyebots. Eyebot Duraframe Subject E is both the prototype, and thest functional model in this test group. I was prepared to make several significant upgrades to the machines however, as the project was cancelled and all Duraframe assets are being diverted to mass production of the Hellfire Armor project, I am sending this model to the Navarro outpost. If you are listening to this log from one of our Enve Outposts in Chicago, give this unit whatever repairs it needs so it can continue to Navarro."


    And just as suddenly as it began, the voice ended. An uneasy silence fell over the room, as the three of us just stood and stared at the floating spherical robot. A storm of questions flooded into my head, the most prominent being "What the fuck did I just listen to?" There were unfamiliar names in that speech that I felt like I should''ve recognized why they seemed significant, but I couldn''t remember why: Navarro and Enve. I was able to infer that ED-E was, appropriately enough, an "Eyebot" and noted with a wry sense of amusement that "Eyebot Duraframe subject E" would end up being abbreviated to ED-E just like on the license te. My thoughts, however, were cut short by Cass voicing one of hers:


    "What''s a Chicago?"


    It only took Chris a few minutes to install the modules once we got back.


    "So," I asked, "The rockets are all set to go now, right?"


    "Yes!" he growled, sounding pleased for the first time since I''d met him "I''ll tell Jason that the Great Journey can begin!" He rushed off towards the inte, and I turned to Cass and Boone. I whispered to them, so Chris couldn''t hear.


    "Think we should tell him?"


    "I think he''s gonna find out anyway" Cass replied, as I heard Jason begin to speak over the inte. I made my way to the window, standing next to Chris and looking down on theunch pad. All the ghouls  even Jason  were wearing what looked like radiation suits, with clear domed helmets. Jason''s helmet was off, and he was holding it in his hands as he spoke, his wordsing through the speaker.


    "Gather all! May The Creator guide my words and help me speak true! The almighty Creator has seen fit to answer our prayers. The time hase for us to board the rockets and begin the Great Journey! Though it may seem that all humans despise us, The Creator has seen fit to instruct us differently. The journey ahead would have been impossible, if not for the intercession of Human friends  some new the other, a long abidingpanion. To our new friends, we say thanks and promise never to forget how you cleared from our path the Demons who sought to stay our journey. And to Chris we owe more than thanks. Chris? You have made this Great Journey a reality. From this moment forward, you will be remembered as the Saint of The Great Journey! We shall never forget you I ask that you forgive us, Chris, and give us your blessing. We bestow ours upon you."


    I looked at Chris as Jason spoke. His expression had turned from tion to horror, and finally to sorrow. His mouth hung open as he pressed his hands against the ss, almost like he was trying to will himself down to theunch pad.


    "Seekers! Board the rockets!" Jason continued. "Take your seats! The Great Journey awaits! To the promisednd we go  to the Far Beyond!" And with that, he put on his clear domed helmets, and the ghouls did as they were told. Chris backed away from the ss pane, merely staring at his now shaking hands that he held in front of his face. He looked on the verge of tears.


    "D did you hear him?" He said, his voice still just as gravelly as ever. "My god you were right all along! I''m no ghoul! Look at me! I''m no ghoul they were just using me" I was really not the best person tofort someone when they were going through an identity crisis, but I tried in any case.


    "Look, Chris," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder in what I hoped he''d take as aforting gesture. "They''d take you if they could. But you''d die from the radiation in minutes. They''re just trying to protect you." He waved my hand away.


    "And dying would be worse than this? Used up, and thrown away like garbage?!" He pounded his fist on a nearby control panel.


    "Hey, look on the bright side," I said, cringing as I realized that probably wasn''t the best choice of words only after I spoke. "They''re going to revere you as a Saint! How many people can im Saint as a title, eh?"


    "Oh, so I''ve ''redeemed the human race,'' is that it?" he said snidely. "What a crock! The human race can''t stand me  why do you think I left Vault 34?"


    "Hey, c''mon Chris. Give yourself a little credit. You''re an ok guy. I''m sure if you give civilization another chance, they''ll give you a chance in turn. In fact, there''s this little town called Novac just east of here. If nothing else, I''m sure the folks there will help you get back on your feet."


    "Life among humans again," he said, bitterly. "That''s what you''re suggesting?" I nodded. "I guess I guess it''s the only chance I''ve got, now. Maybe it''ll be different this time. I mean, hell, I was never a Saint in the vault. I was just a Vault-Tec Reactor Technician." He shook his head, and sighed. "I can''t believe I''m agreeing to this, but I''ll give it a try. You gounch the rockets  the control panel is in the observation booth up on the roof. I''m gonna head to Novac. And if I never see another ghoul again, it''ll be too soon."


    Chris sighed, and walked away, hanging his head. Cass broke the silence after he left.


    "Y''know, if he''s from a vault, why doesn''t he have a pip boy?"


    "I dunno," I said shrugging. "I didn''te from a vault, but I have one. So who knows what happened to his."


    "Wait," Boone spoke up. "You''re not from a vault?" He looked confused.


    The observation booth on the roof was essentially just a box with arge panoramic window. The vista offered an excellent view of the dome set into the mountain. On the wall on one side was another inte, with a note stuck to it that read unch pad."


    "Jason?" I asked, pressing the inte button. "Are you there?"


    "Wanderer?" Jason sounded confused. "Where''s Chris?"


    "He''s, er it''splicated. He told me tounch the rockets  how do I do that?"


    "If I remember correctly, it should be the red lever in the middle of the control panel." He said. "And, again, wanderer, I want to th-" I cut him off before he could finish another one of his speeches.


    "Yeah, got it, thanks." I said, clicking off the inte. "Prat. Ok, you ready for this?" I said, turning to my friends.


    "No time like th'' present," Cass said. ED-E beeped happily. Boone just nodded.


    "Well here goes nothing." And with that, I pulled the red lever in the center of the console.


    xons began to sound over the PA system. There was a giant rumble, as the dome began to open, giant metal doors sliding into themselves; the three rockets from theunch pad began to slowly rise, pointing towards the sky. Suddenly, I became aware of strange music ying from my Pip Boy''s speaker. I took a look at the screen, flipping through the settings to find out what was ying. Apparently, it had picked up a radio transmissionbeled "Launch Music" and started ying it automatically. Along with the name of the station, it also told me the name of the song  apparently, it was "Ride of the Valkyries" by someone called Wagner.


    There was a massive bellow like a nuclear detonation, and a giant cloud of smoke billowed out of the now fully opened dome. There was a bright sh, and two of the rockets shot up immediately, trails of smoke following them; the third rocket lifted off, but the boosters seemed to be dyed. It came perilously close to the observation deck, making me reflexively duck (not that it would''ve done any good had it crashed, honestly) before the boosters kicked in with a roar, and the rocket flew off and up in apletely different direction from the other two. I looked up as far as I could, and I could see the smoke trails of all three rockets keep going up towards space, quickly bing nothing more than specks in the sky.


    As I stood there, watching the rockets disappear, the full weight of just how absurd this day had already been finally took hold. It wasn''t even 1 pm, and I''d already almost gotten eaten, talked to a super mutant that thought a brahmin skull was God, learned that there was much more to ED-E than I initially suspected, and to cap it all, I''d helped a cult of religious ghouls travel into space on a trio of space ships.


    "When the fuck did my life be so weird?" I asked, not really to anyone but myself.

 Chapter 8: Boulder City Showdown

    Chapter 8: Boulder City Showdown


    <em>You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, your little jukebox in the Mojave Wastnd. I''m Mr. New Vegas, and I''m here for you with a bit of news. First up, reports have beening intely of severalrge unidentified aircraft, seen in the skies above the New Vegas Strip. Residents of Freeside are hoping they''ll drop food, but I wouldn''t get your hopes up, Freesiders. In other news, Goodsprings has fended off a mob of escaped convicts after organizing an impromptu militia that was, ording to an old man, armed to the teeth with dynamite. This is Mr. New Vegas, signing off. Heh just kidding. I''m not going anywhere - my love for you is too strong.</em>


    "Hey Manny! You in there?" I called to the sniper as I knocked on the door to the dinosaur mouth, a sense of vague dj-vu overwhelming me.


    "Yeah, c''mon in," I heard the sniper reply. I opened the door, and Manny was sitting in his chair, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He presented the coffee pot to me. "Want some coffee?"


    "No, I''m good," I said, waving it off. "The ghouls up at Repconn are gone."


    "Really?" he said, putting the coffee pot down. "Unbelievable! I didn''t think you''d be back so soon. Man, I knew that wouldn''t be easy." I just stared at him with a look that could''ve melted concrete.


    "You have no idea how <strong>not</strong> easy it was. It wasn''t just ghouls - there were super mutants too. However they''re all gone." Manny chuckled, pointing at me and smiling.


    "I had a good feeling about you, man. You look like you''ve been through a lot, so I knew I could count on you."


    "You can save your praise. I don''t need it. What I need is for you to tell me about the man in the checkered coat." He nodded.


    "Okay. The guy you''re looking for, Benny? He was travelling with McMurphy and Jessup, some members from my old gang. They were headed up to Boulder City."


    "Do you know why they went that way?"


    "No clue," he shook his head. "I know Benny hadn''t paid up yet. Maybe that was where they were supposed to get square."


    "How long ago did they leave?"


    "Hmm," Manny grabbed his coffee cup and took a sip. "Not sure. I think it was a few days ago. And that''s all I know, honest." I cursed my luck. I must have just missed him. However even though he had a week head start, my Corvega was helping me close the gap. With any luck, he''ll still be in Boulder City. And if not


    "Thanks for the info," I said, turning to leave. "I''m tempted to say that you still owe me for all the trouble I went through, clearing out Repconn. But you know what? If I never see the inside of this damn dinosaur again, that''ll be good enough for me." I closed the door and walked down the steps, into the gift shop.


    All I''d had before was a face and a bad suit. Now, I had a name. I walked by Cliff, the man who ran the gift shop, and was just about to walk out, head to my car, and floor it up the 95 to Boulder when something mounted on the wall caught my eye. I stopped, and couldn''t help but stare.


    "What. The hell. Is <strong>that</strong>?" I asked.


    A few minutester, I walked away from Novac towards where I''d parked my car. ED-E was floating around, happily beeping out an unintelligible tune; Boone was leaning against the side of my car and scanning the horizon to the east, his rifle in hand; Cass was sitting on top of the hood, taking a long draw from her hip sk.


    "Hey Shea," Cass said, finally noticing me. "So, where are we go-" she stopped abruptly, her eyes falling on the gun in my hand. "What in the fuck is <strong>THAT</strong>?" she asked, mimicking my initial exmation.


    "You like?" I said, holding the weapon in the air so she could get a good look at it. It was a massive revolver, nearly twice as wide as Roscoe, and at least 3 inches longer. The barrel looked like some kind of light-grey triple reinforced metal, and the cylinder was motorized. The grip looked made out of wood, but it felt like metal. It was a lot heavier than Roscoe too  my trusty 9mm couldn''t have been more than 2 pounds when fully loaded but this felt like it was at least 5. Cass just stared at it in awe. Even Boone cast it a nce from behind his sunsses.


    "Turns out, the shop Cliff runs has more than just stupid little dinosaur toys. He calls it That Gun." I pressed a button on the side, and the cylinder popped out with a mechanical whine. I looked through one of the five chambers.


    "Why?" Cass asked, staring at the massive revolver.


    "Well, after all the trouble at Repconn, I thought I could use something with a bit more punch, that doesn''t fire as slow as a sma rifle."


    "No, I meant why''s it called That Gun?"


    "Oh," I said. "No idea. All I know is it''s chambered for 5.56 millimeter rounds, so it should pack a hell of a punch." Surprisingly, Boone spoke up.


    "Sheason, that''s a rifle caliber."


    "Yes. Yes it is."


    "You''re going to melt the barrel on that if you''re not careful."


    "Maybe," I said, shrugging and snapping the cylinder back into ce. "I only have 15 shots for it, anyway. You two ready to go?" They nodded.


    "I call shotgun!" Cass yelled, hopping off the hood with a smile. "So, where''r we headin''?"


    "Boulder City," I said, getting behind the wheel and putting That Gun in the glove box. I paused, taking note of the tiny dinosaur toy sitting on the dashboard. I just looked at Cass, pointing to the stic dinosaur. "You bought that, didn''t you."


    "Mmhmm," she nodded, grinning. "Thought it''d be funny. B''sides, it was only a cap. No big loss."


    "Boulder City''s not that far." Boone said as he sat in the back, his hands never leaving his rifle. I nodded in agreement, and started up the Corvega. The engine roared to life, and we set off north on the 95, ED-E flying close by. For a good minute or so after we set off, the only sound came from the engine.


    "So," Cass had spoken up, but not to me; she had shifted in her seat and was now leaning on the headrest to talk to Boone. "What''s your story?"


    "Don''t have one," Boone said. I could see his reflection in the rear view mirror, looking out the back window. It was almost like he was scanning for targets.


    "C''mon, you have t''at least have a reason t''be taggin'' along in our little caravan."


    "So, we''re a caravan now?" I asked, shooting her a look.


    "Sure," Cass replied, shrugging. "We were a caravan of two, ''n now we''re a caravan of three."


    "Four if you count ED-E," which I did, I added mentally. "He''s been really useful." I realized, with a wry sense of amusement, that I''d started referring to the flying metal ball as a ''he.'' When had I started doing that?


    "Okay then, four. Either way, I''m just a little curious why Boone''s travelin'' with us. Fer instance, I''m here because I was bored, and y''offered me a way outta that damn outpost," she said, gesturing to me. "An'' yer on this big revenge quest. I like t''know th'' people I''m travelin'' with, is all."


    "You really want to know why I''m here?" Boone said, gravely. Cass nodded. "Sheason helped me kill the bitch responsible for selling my wife to the Legion. So I owe him." Another ufortable silence fell across the car. Cass looked to me questioningly. I nodded.


    "Fuck," Cass finally said. "I''m sorry to hear that, man."


    "Don''t be," Boone snapped. "Ca''s dead. So is the bitch who sold her. And eventually, the one responsible will be dead, too." Something about the way he said thatst bit caught my attention. I thought he might be talking about Caesar''s Legion, like it was a person, but that didn''t really make sense. Maybe it was a specific Legionnaire that he thought was responsible or maybe I could tell there was something here he didn''t want to say, something he wasn''tfortable with speaking aloud. But I knew better than to press the issue.


    "So, how''d you know she''s dead? Ca, I mean. D''ya see her die''r somethin''?" Cass asked. Tactful, she was not. Boone practically bit her head off with his response.


    "You got no right asking me that!" he snarled. "Drop it!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cass back away, putting her hands in the air in a disarming gesture.


    "Whoa, sorry man. I didn''t Yer right, I was outta line. I''m sorry. Just curious, y''know?" She looked afraid that Boone would shoot her right there, and judging from the look he was giving her, I couldn''t me her. I heard Boone sigh.


    "Look. I''m just I''m not ready to talk about what happened. To anyone. The only thing I want on my mind right now is how to kill Legion."


    "The only thing I want on my mind is how to find Benny," I said, trying to change the subject.


    "So, that''s th'' guy who shot you? Benny?" I nodded. Cass chuckled, and took another drag from her sk. "S''a stupid name."


    I pulled the Corvega to a stop, parking it next to an old train station on the north side of Boulder City. The city itself was little more than a massive pile of twisted, ruined buildings, and a maze of ruined streets which was, admittedly, not an umon sight in the wastnd, but these ruins were recent. From what I''d heard, Boulder  like a lot of the ces surrounding Vegas  had gone untouched by the nukes that scorched the rest of the world. It was still intact until about four years ago, when the NCR and Legion first butted heads at Hoover Dam.


    Boone told me the story. During the battle, the Legion fell for an NCR trap: troopers and rangers fell back from the dam to Boulder City, luring the elites of Caesar''s army into the city, and then blew it up around them. Literally, the whole damn city was blown up. Apparently they used everything and anything short of actual nuclear weapons: grenades, rockets, missiles, mines, several tons of C-4 stic explosive they had lined the city with so much ordinance, the shockwave had been felt for miles around.


    ED-E flew off ahead, and Cass, Boone, and I followed. I''d told him to scout out the city, see if he could see anyone dressed like the Great Khans. With a happy sounding beep, he flew up and off, disappearing into the ruins.


    "So, I''ve been meanin'' t''ask. Can y''actually understand that fuckin'' bot?"


    "I" I started, but then paused, thinking about it. "Kind of? I mean, he can understand me well enough, that much is obvious. And I suppose I can kind of take an educated guess to what he''s trying to say, but can I understand exactly what all those beeps mean? No." As if on cue, ED-E returned, beeping.


    "What is it, boy? Timmy fell down a well?" Cass said, mockingly. I just looked at her, confused.


    "I don''t get it," I said. She sighed.


    "It''s a s''from an old world holotape I saw as a kid. It was just a joke, nevermind," she grumbled.


    We followed ED-E as he bobbed along on a winding twisting path, hovering just above the rubble-sted streets. Eventually, he stopped, at the corner of a well, really the corner was the only thing left standing of whatever the building used to be. From behind the corner came an NCR trooper  an officer, if the green beret atop his head was any indication. He had a neatly groomed but full red beard, and was wearing a set of NCRbat armor with an ammo bandolier slung across his chest. I thought ED-E might have misunderstood me when I asked him to look for the Khans.


    "Is this your robot?" the officer pointed to ED-E. I nodded. "Well, I''m sorry to tell you this, but you and your friends are going to have to leave."


    "Why? Does the NCR have a problem with robots now?" the officer shook his head.


    "No, it''s nothing like that. There''s a situation with some Great Khans deeper in the ruins. The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the area until it''s been resolved. So that means no civilians in or out."


    "Great Khans?" I asked, realizing that I''d underestimated ED-E. "Can you at least tell me what''s going on?"


    "I''m sorry, but I can''t discuss the details of an ongoing operation with a civilian."


    "It''s ok, Lieutenant," I heard Boone say, as he stepped forward. "They''re with me." Immediately, the Lieutenant stiffened, as he finally took notice of the soldier with the red beret standing near me.


    "Oh! I didn''t realize you were travelling with a member of 1st Recon. That changes things. I''m Lieutenant Monroe. Can I ask who I''m dealing with?" He held out his hand, and I shook it in response.


    "I''m Sheason. This is Cass. That''s Boone. Now, can you tell me what''s going on with the Khans?"


    "One of my patrols was on its way back from Novac when it came under fire from a group of Khans that had set up shop in the ruins," Monroe exined. "They radioed for reinforcements, but instead of waiting , they chased the Khans further into the ruins where they were caught in a crossfire. None of the squad was killed, but not all of them got out, either. Private Ackerman and Private Gilbert have been taken as hostages. That was nearly twenty minutes ago, and we''ve been stuck at a stalemate since."


    "Is there any way we can get in there?" I asked, pointing to a deeper part of the ruins. "One of the Khans may have something of mine."


    "Not until the Great Khans have been killed or captured. Once they''ve been dealt with, you''re wee to retrieve any property they''ve taken from you."


    "What about the hostages?" Boone asked. Monroe''s jaw clenched.


    "It''s a terrible situation, but as soon as we attack, the troopers are as good as dead. Unfortunately, we haven''t had any luck with advancing  between us and the Khans is a no-mansnd, with almost nothing in the way of cover. We''d have to go through that to get close enough to engage the Khans, and we''d lose even more men."


    "You could send me in," I said, thinking quickly. I was met with a questioning nce, and I exined. "I''m an unknown element for the Khans, and I''m obviously not an NCR trooper. You can tell them that you''re sending me over to negotiate for the release of the hostages. I go over, pretend I''m unarmed," I pulled Roscoe from the holster on my hip and tucked it in the back of my pants, hiding it from view with the back of my leather jacket, and continued "and with a little luck, I can get the two privates back safely." And I can find Benny and the tinum Chip, hopefully.


    "Normally I''d turn you down, since you''re a civilian, but" he cast another nce at Boone "If a 1st Recon sniper trusts your judgment, then you must know what you''re doing." I did my best to suppress a smile; Honestly, I didn''t really know what I was doing half the time. But he didn''t need to know that.


    "All right," he said eventually. "I''ll give you a chance to talk to the Khans. Their leader is a man named Jessup." That was either a stroke of brilliant luck, or incredibly bad. On the one hand, Jessup was one of the Khans I knew was travelling with Benny, and would know where I could find him. On the other hand he might recognize me, and they might shoot me before I even got close.


    "I warn you though," Monroe continued "if we hear shooting, we''ll being in while they''re distracted but it''ll probably be toote for you."


    "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said sarcastically. He moved off further into the ruins, and the four of us followed. I hung back a bit, and when Monroe was out of earshot, I whispered to Boone.


    "How does he know you were with 1st Recon and didn''t you know, just steal that beret?" I asked. Boone''s expression remained impassive behind his sunsses as he replied.


    "Because the members of 1st Recon are The Last Thing You Never See," he said, repeating the slogan I''d seen the night before. "If someone was able to take out a member of 1st Recon inbat, then they deserve the beret. But as far as I know, that''s never happened."


    Boone and I caught up with Monroe deeper in the ruins. From where I was, I could see a number of NCR troopers taking cover behind rubble or broken cars, their rifles drawn and at the ready. I took a look around the corner of a half-standing brick wall, and could see what Monroe had talked about. The only bits of rubble between here and where the Khans had apparently dug in couldn''t have been more than a foot high. I looked around, my eyes eventually falling on the remains of a two story building; only half of it was standing, but it was high enough that a good shot would have a clear line of sight to almost every Khan in cover.


    "So," Cass asked, walking up to me and loading her shotgun, ED-E floating beside her. "What''s the y?"


    "I''m gonna go over there, like I told the Lieutenant. But before I try and deal for the hostages, I''m going to find out where I can find Benny. Boone, can you cover me from that building, just in case things go sideways?" I asked, pointing at the ruins behind the troopers. I saw the faintest hint of a smirk cross his face.


    "I''m already there," he said, moving silently through the rubble and disappearing between the buildings. I turned to the robot.


    "ED-E, keep a watch up above. Anyone tries anything, turn them to ash." ED-E beeped, and flew up and out of sight.


    "What about me?" Cass asked.


    "Think you''re ok with covering me from the ground?" She just smirked.


    "I''m a surgeon with this fuckin'' shotgun. Damn right I can keep you covered."


    "Thanks." With that, I ducked into one of the bits of cover, and made my way towards the Lieutenant. "Alright, I''m ready." He nodded, and shouted out across the ruins at the Khans in cover.


    "Alright, can you hear me? We know you don''t want to get killed, so we''re sending over someone to negotiate for the hostages! He''s unarmed! If you shoot him, we will retaliate with deadly force!"


    I took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that this might be a bad idea. Despite that, I raised my hands in the air, and stood up from behind the cover. I braced myself, certain I was about to get shot, but nothing happened. I let out the breath swiftly, and started to make my way across the tiny no-mansnd towards the Great Khans. As I got closer and made my way through where the Khans had set up, I made a mental note of where they all were. To my left, in one of the surprisingly intact buildings, I could see the two privates, tied up on their knees and being guarded by a Khan with a 10mm submachine gun. On what remained of the roof, was another Khan. To my right were three more  two taking cover behind a car, and a third behind a piece of copsed building.


    "Hey," I spoke to the closest one (a female Khan who was wearing a leather vest, a pair of jeans torn to be incredibly short shorts, and very little else). My hands still raised in the air. "Who''s in charge here?" She was eyeing me suspiciously  frankly, I couldn''t me her  and motioned with her head to a door to my left. Finally lowering my hands, I reached for the door and stepped inside.


    "What the fuck?!" I heard as soon as I shut the door behind me. Standing in front of me was one of the Khans I''d remembered seeing next to Benny  the white guy with the red hair in a Mohawk. He looked like he hadn''t shaved as long as I had. "You you''re that courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings! You''re supposed to be dead!" From his expression and the tone of his voice, it sounded like he was about ready to shit himself. I decided it might be best to milk this for all it was worth.


    "I got better."


    "And here I thought us Great Khans were tough to kill" he sounded genuinely worried. "So what happens now?" I decided to get straight to the point.


    "Where''s Benny?"


    "He''s not here. Benny kept the tinum Chip, the money he owed us, and stabbed us in the back. Fucker''s probably back at the Strip by now,ughing his ass off."


    "Who the fuck is Benny, anway? I''d never even seen him before he shot me."


    "He''s one of the Chairmen," he said, spitting on the ground next to him. "They''re the big shots who run The Tops Casino on the Strip. A friend of mine from the city contacted me an'' McMurphy with a line on a big job. Honestly? I should''ve known the caps were too good to be true, but there was still no way I could pass up the chance. If I had, maybe Murph''d be alive right now." He gestured with his thumb to an open door behind him. I edged forward, and took a look inside. Lying on a mattress was the body of the ck Khan I''d remembered. His eyes were closed, and a knife was ced on top of his chest. Two bullet holes were in his forehead.


    "The tinum Chip  do you know what it is, or why Benny wanted it?" I asked. Jessup shrugged.


    "It''s just a big, fancy poker chip as far as I know. Don''t know why it''s so important." Well, it was a long shot anyway.


    "So why did Benny betray you?"


    "Because he''s a snake, that''s why!" He spat again. "He owed us the rest of the pay for the job, but instead he shot Murph in the head, kicked me in the balls, and bolted for Vegas. Fuckin'' prick."


    "You know, as fascinating as all this is  thanks, by the way, now I know exactly where to find him  I''m not actually here for that."


    "Oh?" He cocked an eyebrow. "So why the fuck are you here?"


    "I''m actually here to negotiate for the hostages you have on behalf of the NCR."


    "What''s to negotiate? NCR backs off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurt."


    "That''s not going to work. You know that." I said simply.


    "What other choice is there? Let the hostages go first?" I nodded, and he let out a single raspy, exasperated chuckle. "We do that, and we''re as good as dead. Those NCR dickheads''ll just start shooting, and my whole crew will eat it."


    "Look, how about this: I''ll head back to the NCR side, and talk with the LT in charge. You free the hostages now, and I''ll make sure the NCR lets you walk. Hell, give me a few minutes, and I''ll get them to escort you back to wherever you want to go." I actually meant it, too. Even though he had helped ambush me, he wasn''t responsible. Benny was the one responsible, and this guy, Jessup, had gotten fucked over by Benny just like I had. Well not just like I had. McMurphy had gotten fucked over just like I had, but he was dead. Jessup was silent for a minute, grinding his teeth, and looking from me to the body of McMurphy, and then back to me.


    "Fuck," he said, finally. "I can''t believe I''m doing this but alright. The hostages can go. The NCR better keep their end of this deal, though."


    "They will, I promise."


    "Here," Jessup reached into one of the pockets on his vest and pulled out something shiny and metal, tossing it to me. I caught it almost without thinking. "A souvenir for you. It''s Benny''s lighter. I stole it from him before he shot Murph. Shove it up his ass when you catch up with him, alright?"


    I turned the lighter around in my hands, examining it. It was a pre-war Zippo, made out of a burnished silver metal. There was engraving on both sides. On one side was a logo for The Tops Casino. The lettering was top to bottom, and each letter of "TOPS" was inside a trapezoid, each geometric shape staggered and stacked on top of one another. A few stylized stars surrounded the letters. On the other side was a simple message, carved in stylish lettering:


    <em>Wee to the big time, Boss.</em>


    <em>-Swank</em>


    "Thanks," I said, putting the lighter in one of the pockets on my jeans. I reached for the door, but stopped myself, remembering something. "Oh, before I go," I said, turning back and walking towards him. "There''s one more thing that needs to happen before we''re square."


    "Oh yeah? Wh "


    Before he could finish his thought, I punched him really hard in the middle of his face. He fell to the ground in a heap, clutching his nose.


    "That''s for my car. Dick."


    "The Khans are willing to let the hostages go," I told Monroe as I arrived back in cover. I''d motioned for Boone and ED-E toe back down and stop covering me as I made my way back, d that my worrying had been for nothing (for once). "There''s one condition. I told Jessup, the one in charge, that if they let the hostages go, you and your men would be willing to escort them safely out of Boulder."


    "Hm." He frowned, and I suddenly felt a twinge in the pit of my stomach. "That may be a problem. I''m d you were able to get my people freed, but while you were over there I was contacted by the brass at McCarran. My new orders are to take out the Great Khans, hostages or not." My eyes went wide.


    "You can''t do that!" I said pleadingly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two privates being shoved out of the building where they were kept, and run towards the NCR held cover. Jessup was motioning for the Khans around him to move out of cover. "The Khans are letting the hostages go in exchange for their own freedom. That''s how hostage negotiations are supposed to work!" Monroe just shook his head.


    "Look, I know it''s a shitty situation. But orders are orders. My hands are tied." I watched in horror as the Khans broke cover, and started walking towards the NCR troops, oblivious to what was about to happen. None of them had their weapons raised. Monroe loaded his own rifle, and turned to his troops. "Alright men, open fire!"


    Jessup and the rest of the Khans barely had a second to react as the squad of NCR soldiers emerged, their rifles leveled at the advancing Khans. I could see Jessup''s eyes go wide, and he yelled at me with a sneer.


    "You lying sack of " he was cut off by a stato of gunfire that drowned out everything. Most of them didn''t even get the chance to raise their guns before the hail of assault rifle fire tore through them; none of them had the chance to fire. In a manner of seconds, all the Khansy dead on the street.


    And all I could do was watch.


    Everyone was silent as we made our way back to the Corvega. Even Cass seemed to know better than to attempt conversation right now. She''d been near enough to Monroe and me that she''d heard the whole thing, and even tactless as she was, she knew it''d be a bad idea to talk to me about what had gone down right now. The silence was finally broken when we reached the car.


    "So, where are we going next?" Cass asked, making her way to the passenger side.


    "Vegas," I said simply, doing my best to hide any emotions. All it did was make me sound like Boone. "Benny runs the Tops. With any luck, we''ll get there before sundown. But there''s going to be two stops we''ll make before we reach the walls. We''ll stop at the 188 for food and anyst supplies we''ll need first, and then we''ll stop by your caravan. I promised we''d stop so you can pay your respects, and I keep my promises."


    I was just about to get in my Corvega when an annoyingly familiar sound caught my attention. It was the all too distinct squeaking sound of a greased axle grinding against metal. Oh for fuck sake, I thought to myself. Victor. Sure enough, from behind the train station building my car was parked next to, I saw the all too familiar shape of Victor roll into view, the cowboy face on the robot smiling like always.


    "Fancy meetin'' you here, friend!" the robot proimed. I thought ''friend'' was pushing it.


    "How did you even get here, Victor?" I''d seen him roll along, but I''d never seen him move at anything faster than walking pace. I wasn''t sure if he could''ve kept up with my Corvega, much less passed it to get ahead of us.


    "Just rolling along on my spurs," Victor said, turning towards the Vegas skyline off to the north-west. It held a w up, as if shielding its eyes from the desert sun. "Looks like I might just make it to New Vegas after all"


    "Did you see Bennye this way?" I asked. It had suddenly urred to me that I didn''t actually ask Jessup when Benny had betrayed them. It couldn''t have been more than a day or two ago, but for all I knew the betrayal had happened just before I''d arrived. And as much as I didn''t trust the robot, it seemed to have good information.


    "Fancy-pants?" Victor asked, tilting slightly to one side, and holding out a w. "Nah, I ain''t seen hide-nor-hair of him since the tussle in Goodsprings. I''m sure he ran back to the soft-living of New Vegas, though."


    "Did you see what happened in there?" Victor went strangely rigid, stayingpletely still on its single wheel. Its face-monitor flickered slightly.


    "Yup. Guess it''s just down to you and fancy-pants. I wouldn''t worry about him. He looked all hat and no cattle, if you ask me."


    "I didn''t," I said bluntly. Victor rolled along the train tracks, past my Corvega, and waved at me as he passed.


    "Look me up when you get to New Vegas  I''ll buy the first round!" And with that, the robot started rolling off along the rail line and into the distance. I stared at Victor with narrowed eyes.


    "You know," I finally said to my friends once Victor was out of sight. "He may have pulled me out of my grave but I trust that bucket of bolts about as far as I can throw him."

 Chapter 9: The Road to Vegas

    Chapter 9: The Road to Vegas


    <em>Wee back,dies and gentlemen. This is Mr. New Vegas. Thank you very much for listening. Have I got news for you. First up, the Helios One sr power nt remains dormant, despite NCR''s effort to reactivate the facility. The chief scientist at the nt vowed to fix the problem, ming it on an atmosphere of quote ''severe under-appreciation.'' Also in the headlines, a number of scavengers close to Sloan have reported seeing hulking individuals moving about Hidden Valley after dusk, but have been unable to confirm their sightings due to low visibility. Promotional consideration for this part of the program has been paid for by the Ultra-Luxe: live life in thep of luxury. You know, sometimes the journey beats the destination, especially when you meet some nice gals along the way. It''s Jingle, Jangle, Jingle by Kay Kyser and his orchestra, up next.</em>


    The 188 trading post wasn''t anything special. It was just a number of trailers, shacks built out of scrap metal, and tents gathered around the intersection of Highway 93 and Highway 95. I''m sure whoever came up with the name thought they were being immensely clever. There probably wasn''t much here, but if Cass was to be believed, they at least had a ce to get drinks and food.


    ED-E stayed floating by the car after I parked it near the overpass. Cass, unsurprisingly, headed straight for the bar (really, it was only a wood shelf filled with booze under an awning, and a charcoal grill nearby). Boone said he was going to look for some ammo and possibly medical supplies "just in case." Personally, I was fine with a little bit of solitude. I needed to take a walk anyway. I grabbed That Gun out of the glove box, and started walking not really in any particr direction.


    For some reason, watching the Great Khans get ughtered like that was hitting me harder than I honestly thought it should have. I shouldn''t have cared about what happened to them. The Khans were one of the three raider groups that came from Vault 15, along with the Vipers and the Jackals. And that was just it: they were raiders. The stories I''d heard working as a courier in NCR territory painted pictures of them living like Mongol warriors from the old world, piging towns, burning what they couldn''t take, and capturing people as ves. Even worse, the Khans were thought to be responsible for drugs like Jet and Psycho bing somon in NCR territory and the wastnd beyond.


    That''s when it hit me. Sure, the Khans, as a whole, were assholes and raiders and drug runners. Sure, Jessup and McMurphy had helped Benny kill me and leave me for dead. Sure, they probably deserved it. But they were still willing to let the hostages go and work with the NCR peacefully, even if they were only doing it to save their own skin. I''ll kill raiders if they''re a threat, sure, but if they''re giving up willingly


    You don''t kill a man when he''s on his knees, helpless and begging for his life. That was one of the rules I''d lived by for years. If you wanted to simply survive in the wastnd, then you didn''t need rules. Sure, you''d survive, but without rules the horrors and the brutality of the wastnd would eventually beat you down force you to whittle away pieces of yourself until one day you''d wake up and you wouldn''t recognize who you had be.


    I needed to shoot something. That''s what I told myself. I''d had this conversation with myself so many times in the past that it was just making me feel ill. Really, I just needed to do something  anything  to get my mind off this train of thought.


    And sometimes, the wastnd gives you exactly what you want.


    Ahead of me, I saw about four or five geckos: lizards mutated by radiation that stood up on their hind legs. These were some of the smaller ones, and couldn''t have been more than two feet tall. They''d make good target practice, and I needed to give That Gun a test anyways. Hell, I might be able to bring the carcasses back and get a good meal. Gecko steak was pretty tasty, if you knew how to cook it properly.


    I pulled out That Gun and popped out the cylinder. I had loaded four rounds before I put it in the glove box, keeping the chamber that lined up to the barrel empty. I reached into one of the ammo pouches on my belt, and loaded a fifth 5.56mm round. With a mechanical whine, the cylinder''s motors kicked in, and it clicked back into ce. Aiming it with both hands, I leveled the massive revolver and pointed it at the head of the nearest gecko, squeezing the trigger.


    That Gun going off sounded like God mming a car door. The kickback was immense; I was expecting some significant recoil, but it felt like it might damn near knock me off my feet. Of course, now that I knew exactly what to expect, I doubted that would ever happen again. I took a look at the gecko I''d shot  a considerable chunk of its head was missing. The other geckos had noticed me, and started rushing towards me on their stubby little legs, their mouths open and ready to bite. I leveled That Gun again, and fired.


    Four more shots and a pair of ringing eardrumster, I was heading back to the 188 with several gecko carcasses in hand. As silly as this probably sounds, getting some target practice with That Gun really did make me feel a bit better. The knowledge that I''d actually get a decent meal tonight probably helped considerably, as well.


    The walk back to the trading post was longer than I''d remembered. Just how out of it was I when I was fuming? I shook it off, reaching the overpass. I was about to head up to the "bar," when something strange caught my eye. I saw a g hung on one of the walls holding the overpass up. It was an old world g with thirteen horizontal stripes (7 red, and 6 white), and a blue box in the upper left corner that contained thirteen white stars in a circle, with a singlerge star in the center.


    The g of the United States.


    Beneath the old world g was arge clutter of junk and debris. For half a second, it almost looked like a shrine, full of bits of the old world, shrouded beneath the g of a dead country. Sitting on the curb was a young boy, turning a multicolored box over in his hands. Each side of the box had 9 squares, all different colors. I almost didn''t see him: there was so much junk scattered around, and he was so small. At first nce he seemed like he was part of the pseudo-shrine. The child was deeply engrossed in what he was doing turning the multicolored box over and over in his hands, shifting the multicolored squares from side to side. I walked towards him, and he suddenly started speaking to me without looking up from his work.


    "Bull and Bear over the Dam, at each other''s throats but a light from Vegas? Ball spinning on the wheel. More than two at the table. All cing bets. All lose in different ways. A dam of corpses. Towns of corpses, scattered across the sand. But whose and in what shares? Even the dealer doesn''t know. Forecast: A rain of blood will flood the desert, and not purify it."


    His voice had an odd quality to it. It wasn''t otherworldly and echoing, like Jason Bright''s voice  he was still obviously a human child  but there was something unnerving about the timber in the words he spoke. And even more unnerving was the content.


    "Hey, kid? Are you alright?" I asked, getting a bit closer. He merely continued turning the box over in his hands, and spoke again.


    "Local, local, the here and now little of interest things to buy, false hopes, and regrets watered down, washed down in dirty sses. With regretes a girl smiling sad, brown robe, named Veronica. Half here, half there. Wraps her and her heart up like a pack, in the pack, a key, some say. Forecast: Cloudy, with a chance of friendship."


    "What the" I said, more to myself than the kid. He turned the box in his hands one final time, and with a click he cradled it in his hands. He looked up, and stared directly into my eyes.


    My blood ran ice cold and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, like a frigid wind from somewhere up north had whipped past. I didn''t understand it, but for some reason, I couldn''t pull my gaze away from his, no matter how hard I tried to look away. The longer he stared, the more I became aware of an odd tingling sensation in the back of my head that I couldn''t exin. Looking into his eyes was deeply unpleasant it felt like he wasn''t looking at me, so much as through me. Impossibly old, unblinking eyes staring further and deeper than anyone I''d ever met, and yet no matter how ufortable he made me, I couldn''t look away.


    "Your face does the thinking  two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you but they''re just numbers after the two-to-one. You''re ying the hand you''ve been dealt, but you don''t let it rest. You shuffle and stack, and gamble a gamble that may pay off? But how? Forecast: Rapidly changing conditions." When he finished, he tossed the multicolored box at me. I caught it, and was finally able to break his gaze. When I caught the box, I became acutely aware of a cold sweat that had formed on the back of my neck and I let go of a breath I hadn''t realized I''d been holding. I looked down at the box in my hand each face was now a single solid color: white, blue, red, yellow, green, and orange.


    I had, quite literally, no idea what just happened.


    "Sorry, mister," the kid said. He took a strange looking device  a red-painted metal crown  from behind one of the debris piles, and ced it on top of his head, fastening it in ce with a strap under his chin. "I need to put my medicine back on. No more thinking for today."


    I didn''t mention the child when I caught up with Cass. She was already halfway through a bottle of whiskey, and was in the middle of a game of Caravan with the bartender, a man who went by the name of Samuel Kerr. Caravan was one of those weird card games that everyone seemed to y nowadays honestly, I could never get the hang of it. Call me a bluff old traditionalist, but I preferred poker.


    I handed the geckos and a handful of caps to Kerr, who said the steaks would be ready in about twenty minutes. Then I slipped away to my car as fast as I could. I still had the multicolored box in my hand, and for some reason I felt like I should keep it. When I got to my Corvega a few minutester, ED-E was hovering above the car, but there was a figure nearby that I didn''t recognize. The person was wearing a hooded brown robe, leaning against my car. It looked like whoever was wearing the robe was <em>talking</em> with ED-E?


    "Hey there!" I called out as I approached. "Mind telling me what you''re doing to my car?" The figure turned to me, revealing the smiling face of a young woman. Her robe looked like it was made out of bup, or some other kind of brown cloth; her hood covered her entire head, except for her face. Her right hand was further wrapped in the sleeve of her robe, obscuring it entirely.


    "Oh! Hi! I wasn''t doing anything to the car, honest. I was just taking a look at your robot. I just wanted to get a closer look," ED-E beeped happily, zooming around her as she spoke.


    "I see," I said, tossing the multicolored box through the open window and onto the driver''s seat. I was about to put That Gun in the car as well, when the woman bent towards me, looking at my face with an odd expression.


    "Uh something wrong?" I asked.


    "No offense," she said, holding up her left hand. "But you look like you''ve traveled a long way down some bad roads. Where''d youe from?" I thought about it, and decided to have a little fun with her by telling her a half-truth.


    "Me? I came from the grave."


    "Oh," she said, seemingly taking it at face value. "Well, in that case, I take it back." I raised an eyebrow, confused.


    "Take what back?"


    "You look pretty good, given the circumstances," she said with a smirk. I let out a chuckle and she continued, waving at me again and smiling. "My name is Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground."


    "I''m Sheason," I said, and then I paused, thinking back to the child: <em> a girl smiling sad, brown robe, named Veronica </em>I shook it off. It was probably just a coincidence. "You live in a hole in the ground?" She shrugged.


    "Well, a bunker, if you want to get technical about it. Personally, I think it sounds a lot more interesting my way. But I''m not there much anymore. I''m usually out here picking up food and whatever supplies my family might need."


    "Wait, you just leave your family in the bunker?"


    "Yeah, but I''m not worried," she said, nodding. "They can handle themselves. But somebody has to go out and get the groceries, know what I mean?"


    "I suppose," I said. Except for that short time in Shady Sands, I''d never really stuck around any one ce for too long. These days, it seemed like I mostly just lived out of my car.


    "Actually," she continued. "These days I think they''d rather have me out here anyway. But that''s a whole other story."


    "Hmm" I leaned against my Corvega. ED-E buzzed through the air around the two of us. "So, tell me: if you''re out here picking up the groceries, why are you so interested in ED-E?"


    "Who?"


    "ED-E. That''s the name of my robot," I said, pointing to the floating metal ball. ED-E swiveled in the air in front of her, showing off the license te bolted to his side.


    "Oh! Well I just like robots. Technical things in general, really. I guess you could say I''m kind of a gear head. Plus, I''ve never seen a robot quite like ED-E before. I mean  it has a General Atomics anti-gravitation field repulsor, but much, much more advanced than you''d see on a Mr. Handy or a Mr. Gutsy, the antennae and sensor array is the most advanced I''ve ever seen on a robot of its size, and unless I miss my guess, this looks like a highly condensed and stripped down version of an AER-12ser rifle''s wave-particle diverter and focusing crystal, but much more heavily reinforced, and modified to work with a microfusion breeder" She was talking a mile a minute, pointing out things on ED-E as she spoke. ED-E kept beeping happily, and floating just within reach of Veronica; I could tell, he was just soaking up all the attention.


    "Wow," I said eventually. "That is an impressive knowledge of robotics. How do you know all that?" She shrugged again.


    "Like I said, I''m a gear head. Did you build him?"


    "Nope," I shook my head. "I found him in Primm, and repaired him. He was pretty banged up when I found him  that license te was used to cover a fracture in his chassis. But he''s been running great since then. Can even keep up with my baby here," I patted the side of my Corvega.


    "Nice!" She smiled, and looked thoughtful for a minute. "Hey, can I ask you something  on the level?"


    "Shoot."


    "I had a run-in recently with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch. Do you know anything about them?"


    "A bit, yeah," I said. "Never met any of them myself, but I''ve heard about them. Soldiers in powered armor, carryingser weapons and roaming the wastes looking for old world tech or something like that. As far as I know, they''re harmless unless you have some kind of tech they want."


    "Yeah, well I shouldn''t have a problem," she said, smiling again. "I can''t really afford anything like that." I pondered that for a second.


    "So where''d you learn about robots then?" I asked. Anyone with that kind of intimate knowledge of robotics had to have had some kind of hands-on experience working with them, but if she couldn''t afford anything like that


    "Books," she said, a bit too fast. Before I could question, she spoke up again. "Hey, so where are you headed anyway?"


    "The Strip," I said simply.


    "Ooo, very exciting! Gonna strike it rich, huh?"


    "No. I''m not going there to gamble. You know how I said I was from the grave?"


    "Yeah?"


    "Well, I''m going there to find the man who put me there. A man who goes by the name Benny, he shot me and left me for dead." I pointed to the scars on my face. She peered at my scars closely.


    "Hmm nine millimeter?" She asked.


    "How can you " I started.


    "I may not look it, but I''ve survived the wastnd just like you have. I''ve seen enough bullet wounds to know what a 9 mil does to a person. And that should''ve killed you," she said, pointing at the scar on my forehead.


    "Well if you want to get technical about it," I said, repeating her words, "I was pretty much dead for a week."


    "And you got back up" she said with a smile. "I''ll be honest, you''re the first person I''ve run across out here that looks like he can really handle himself. There are ces I''ve never been to out in the Mojave that I''d love to see. Plus, you have an amazing robot." ED-E beeped happily again or was it proudly? Either way, he was continuing to love the attention. "Maybe we could travel together, help each other out?"


    I just sort of stared at her, not really knowing what to say. Wait, no, I knew exactly what to say.


    "Sorry kid," She cut me off before I could finish that thought.


    "I''m 27," she said firmly.


    "Yeah, like I was saying," I continued. "No offense? But you don''t look like much. And the man I''m going after is dangerous  one of the Chairmen. Do you even know how to fight?" She just smiled.


    "Heh that''s good. Not looking like much is exactly the look I was going for. But trust me on this one, though. You''ll be d you brought me along."


    "Really," I deadpanned, giving her my best ''unimpressed'' face. She put a finger to her mouth, looking thoughtful for a moment, and then started looking around.


    "Ah!" She said, apparently having noticed something. She walked to the side of the road, reached down and picked up a ratherrge rock. She lifted it with one hand easily.


    "Here," she said, cing the rock in my hands and backing up about 10 feet away from me. It was deceptively heavy  I was already surprised that she could''ve held it one handed that easily. She didn''t look that strong. "I''ll give you a demonstration of what I can do. I want you to throw that rock at my face as hard as you can."


    "Wait, what?" I don''t know what I was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn''t that. "Are you crazy?"


    "Nope!" She said, that cheery smile ever present on her face. With a wink, she said "Trust me."


    "Okay" I said with a shrug. I grabbed the rock with both hands, braced myself, and heaved the rock directly towards her.


    She waited for thest possible moment to move, but when she did it was almost too fast for me to see. The rock couldn''t have been more than a foot away from her face when the metallic blur of her right hand cut through the air towards the rock. There was a crash, like a car smashing into a concrete block, and the distinct sound of pressurized gas escaping from a series of pneumatic pistons. The rock splintered and fragmented, sending shards of stone and dust everywhere but Veronica''s face. When the dust settled, I saw what she had on her right hand, no longer concealed by her robe: a bulky, dark metal glove with a metal te boasting a diamond tread pattern just above the knuckles and attached to a series of pistons on the top of the gauntlet. The whole setup looked like a severely over engineered set of knuckle dusters. This girl, who looked like she could have been about 90 pounds, had a Pneumatic Power Fist on her arm.


    "Aw, c''mon! I told you to throw it as hard as you could!" she mock-whined. The pistons on her power fist let off another burst of pressurized gas. I just sort of stared at the power fist in shock. I seriously didn''t see thating.


    "I thought you said you couldn''t afford tech like that," I said, pointing at the power fist.


    "Well yeah, it was really expensive. Why do you think I can''t afford stuff like this anymore?" She smirked, and started wrapping her right sleeve around her power fist again. I didn''t buy it, but before I could question further, she continued. "So, what do you say? I can hold my own in a fight. Can I tag along?"


    "What about your family? I thought you said you had to get the groceries for them." She just waved it off.


    "Like I said, they can handle themselves. And besides, I''m not the only one getting supplies." She paused, and then added "It''s a big family. They''ll be able to handle themselves without me for a while."


    "Alright," I said. For some reason, something else the child had said to me shed through my memory: <em>Forecast: Cloudy, with a chance of friendship.</em> "You can travel with me. Now that I know you have a power fist, I think you''ll be able to handle the danger. Wee to our motley little band of misfits," I said smirking.


    "Well, thanks for taking a chance on a nave young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand. There''s just one more question I wanted to ask though" She suddenly looked a bit sheepish, and her cheeks flushed slightly.


    "Go ahead."


    "That leggy redhead you''re travelling with  she single?"


    I introduced Veronica to Cass and Boone (who had apparently found enough ammunition and medical provisions to supply a small toon of soldiers), and we all talked about nothing, finishing off the gecko steaks. After dinner, the four of us made our way back to the Corvega. Cass, unsurprisingly, called shotgun; Veronica sat in the seat behind her, and Boone sat in the seat behind me.


    "So, we''re heading to Vegas, right?" Veronica asked after we''d been on the road for a few minutes.


    "Not yet," I said, checking the map on my Pip Boy. "There''s somewhere I promised to go first." The map was pointing us to the coordinates I''d gotten from Cass of thest known position of her destroyed caravan. I''d promised her we''d check it out, and I keep my promises.


    On the way there, Cass and Veronica busied themselves with idle chatter. Boone was silently watching thendscape pass by. ED-E was bobbing about, keeping pace with the car as we drove along Highway 95 past Henderson. And I was being amused by the fact that Cass probably didn''t realize Veronica was hitting on her, and not simply making friendly conversation. Or maybe she did realize, and just didn''t care.


    By the time my Pip Boy beeped at me, letting me know we were almost there, the sun had just set below the horizon and the sky was several shades of twilight. I pulled the car to a stop, and checked the map: we were on a stretch of broken tarmac that had, ording to the map, been called "East Sunset Road" before the bombs fell. All around were neighborhoods, and residential houses that were decayed and falling apart after 200 years of neglect. Just ahead of us and less than a quarter of a mile distant, was the wall surrounding "Camp McCarran," the NCR''s main base of operations in the Mojave. Apparently, before the bombs, it had been a civilian airport, but after moving in and taking it for themselves the NCR had fortified it extensively. Beyond the NCR base was the truly massive wall surrounding the city of New Vegas. Casinos the size of skyscrapers towered above the top of the wall, filling the skylinepletely. They were lit up with so many neon lights that it was almost like the sun hadn''t even set.


    "Well," I said, turning to Cass. "We''re here."


    She stayed silent for a minute. Then, taking ast mighty swig from a bottle of whiskey (downing the rest of it in one gulp) she said "Alright," and tossed the bottle out the passenger window. It hit the ground several yards away with a smash. Cass and I started walking along the road; Boone and Veronica stayed with the car.


    It didn''t take us long to find what we were looking for. The stench of dead brahmin gave it away. Dumped unceremoniously at the side of the road was a bloated brahmin carcass, the mutant two-headed cow even more disgusting in death than it was in life. Dozens of baby bloatflies buzzed in the air above it. There was a wagon nearby, shattered into pieces. All that was left were piles of refuse and piles of ash.


    "You alright?" I asked.


    "I''ll be fine," she said, quickly. Cass just stood there, staring at the wreckage of her caravan for a few minutes. Her jaw was clenched. Her fists were clenched. She was doing her best to hide her real emotions, presenting a faade of anger and quiet rage but the look she had in her eyes betrayed the sorrow right beneath the surface. Without saying a word, I could see in her expression that she felt responsible, like the death of her caravan was solely her fault. That she couldn''t me anyone but herself.


    "God" Cass said, breaking the silence. "There''s almost nothin'' left. Looks like whoever t''was was just in th'' mood fer killin''" She looked up and away from the wrecked caravan, out towards Vegas.


    "So close to th'' Vegas wall, too. Don''t that beat all. Must''ve happened durin'' th'' day, though."


    "During the day?" I asked. "How can you tell."


    "Doesn''t look like they made camp."


    "Why would they attack during the day?"


    "No idea," Cass said, shaking her head. "Maybe catch th'' sun in their eyes? Maybe they wanted th'' caravan toe to them, walk into an ambush?"


    I knelt down to get a better look at what was left of the caravan, holding my shirt against my nose and mouth in a vain attempt to block out the stench of rotten brahmin. I examined one of the ash piles closely, realizing that I''d seen ash like this before, and recently. Cass spoke what I was thinking.


    "Most o'' th'' cargo''s ash, too not burned, looks like disintegrated."


    "Energy weapons." I said. It wasn''t a question. Cass continued.


    "When I heard th'' reports, I assumed ''ash'' meant ''burned,'' not" she trailed off. I scanned the area, and something shiny caught my eye. I reached over and picked it up. It was a small energy cell, not quite as potent in charge as a microfusion cell, but still used to power energy weapons  usually pistols. Judging by the weight, it had been depleted of its charge. Looking around, I realized that the ground was littered with at least 6 more of these cells. I got up, and turned to Cass.


    "Definitely energy weapons," I said, handing her the depleted energy cell.


    "Well, that rules out Legion but not much else," she admitted. Caesar''s Legion was many things  brutal, oppressive, ruthlessly efficient andpletely merciless. But they were horribly backwards intentionally for some reason. They refused to use ''modern'' technology like energy weapons or medical chems like stimpacks or Med-X. As far as anyone knew, the most advanced technology they used was hunting rifles.


    "So, if it wasn''t Legion, who do you think is responsible?"


    "I dunno," she admitted with a waver in her voice, that she quickly covered with a cough. "But now I''m thinkin'' ''bout it what happened here? S''not th'' first time I''ve heard about an'' attack like this."


    "It isn''t?"


    "Nah. A friend of mine, Harvey Griffin, had a caravan. Got hit a few months back. Caravan''d been burned just like this, along with all th'' cargo."


    "You know where it was hit?"


    "Mostly?" She said, sheepishly. "I think it''s north-west of Vegas, out near Westside. It''s a hell of a ways, though. Hell of a detour."


    "Do you think it can wait?" I asked. She shrugged.


    "It''s been months already, so I doubt there''d be much left. But it''s out in th'' middle of nowhere. I doubt anyone''s gone near it. Why? You want to check it out?"


    "Yes. Yes I do," I told her. I turned and took a long look at the brightly lit Vegas skyline ahead of us. "But not right now. Right now, it''s time to head to Vegas, and deal with the son of a bitch who put me in the ground."


    I''ming for you, Benny.

 Chapter 10: Ace in the Hole

    Chapter 10: Ace in the Hole


    <em>The women of New Vegas ask me a lot if there''s a Mrs. New Vegas. Of course there is. You''re her  and you''re still just as perfect as the day we met. Tensions are brewing in Freeside between the ruling gang known as the Kings and therge number of NCR squatters seeking refuge there. The leader of the Kings, who would only identify himself as The King, voiced his displeasure, calling NCR citizens, quote, ''the devil in disguise.'' He added that he didn''t want to see any NCR in the ghetto, and called for a mass, quote, ''return to sender.'' In other news, citizens of Outer Vegas are flocking to the Strip in droves amid a wave of terror caused by a band of raiders known as the Fiends. Those who can afford passports say that the added security is well worth the price of admission. That news was brought to you by The Tops Casino: You''ll dig us, baby, we''re The Tops. Gonna y that song for you right now, and it''s about that special someone you only find once in a Blue Moon.</em>


    Wee to Fabulous New Vegas.


    That''s what the rusted diamond sign announced as we approached it in my Corvega. The sign looked like it had seen better days; the "E" on "Wee" was on its side, and looked about ready to fall off. The "New" was made from a mishmash of illuminated neon lettering from three different signs (and looking at it closely, I could see that the E was actually just a number 3 turned upside-down) that had been tied onto the sign, covering the original "Las" in "Las Vegas." Right above the sign was a broken eight-point star, only partly illuminated.


    The city beyond the sign was unlike anything I''d ever seen before. There must have been dozens of skyscrapers jutting above the massive concrete wall surrounding the perimeter. I''d seen taller buildings in ces like the Boneyard, sure, but all those old world skyscrapers were nothing more than rusted, sted metal frames. These buildings were still intact, and lit up with hundreds of brightly colored neon lights, creating a cascade of color that assaulted my eyes. Spotlights from the city streets shone into the sky, dancing on the clouds above. The whole city just looked alive.


    Towering above everything else (and somehow managing to be the most prominent thing in view, no matter what direction you looked at the city) was a single massive skyscraper. It rose like a spike from the center of the city towards the heavens. It seemed fitting that the tallest, most recognizable object in a city devoted to gambling looked like the center of a giant roulette wheel.


    Of course, as magnificent and awe-inspiring as the view was, a single overriding thought pushed towards the front of my mind as I stared at the very high, and very featureless, concrete wall just beyond the wee sign:


    "Where the fuck is the entrance?"


    As it turned out, there were two parts to the walled city of New Vegas: The Strip, and Freeside. The bright shining jewel of the old world that made up the skyline was The Strip, but that was actually a rtively small part of the city itself. In order to get there, we would have to pass through Freeside, the slum within the main wall that had been built up around the intersection of Fremont Street and Las Vegas Boulevard over the centuries. Freeside acted as a sort of ''buffer'' between the heavily fortified Strip and the rest of the world.


    The Strip contained dozens of casinos, like Vault 21, the Triple Seven, Bazooko''s Circus, and so on. However, there were only four that were of any real importance, and only one that was important to me: the casinos run by the so-called "Three Families," and the casino that was the home of their employer. There was Gomorrah, run by the Omertas, there was the Ultra-Luxe, run by the White Glove Society, and then there was our destination, The Tops, run by The Chairmen. The fourth, the Lucky 38, was the massive tower shaped like a roulette wheel that dominated the skyline. While it may have been a casino before the bombs fell, now it was the fortress of Mr. House, the man who ran Vegas and controlled the three families. Apparently, no one had ever stepped foot inside the Lucky 38, or ever seen Mr. House in person.


    "Call me curious," I asked Boone as he finished telling us details about The Strip. "but how do you even know all this?"


    "Ca," he said simply. "She lived on The Strip, before I met her. Talked about it a lot."


    Driving through Freeside reminded me a lot of New Reno. Lining every street were squat one and two-story buildings that were lit with garish neon lights, to distract from the fact that none of the buildings had been properly cared for or maintained for close to 200 years. There must have been a burning trash can on every street corner. The streets were full of people as we drove along  a few of them tried to get close to my car (I couldn''t do more than 10 miles an hour without hitting someone or something), but ED-E had been able to drive them away with a fewser sts. I''m still not sure if he actually killed anybody or just fired warning shots, but to be perfectly honest I wasn''t really paying attention, thanks to Veronica.


    "So, I''ve been meaning to ask," Veronica said, tugging on the back of my seat. "What''s the n when we get to The Tops?"


    Damn it all. I suddenly realized that I had no n. I''d concerned myself solely with finding the man who shot me and I hadn''t really given much thought to what I was going to do once I found him: apart from shoot him in the face, obviously. Unfortunately, that was as much of a n as I''de up with so far, but no matter how you looked at it, that n was a suicide mission. I''d already died once this year, thank you, and that was enough for me. I suppose part of me hadn''t really believed that I could''ve found him this quickly, and I thought I would have had more time toe up with an actual n. But that was just an excuse.


    "I''m open to suggestions," I said, keeping my voice level.


    "Well, funny you should mention, because I actually have an idea," Veronica said, turning to Boone. "You''ve been inside The Tops before, right?"


    "Yeah."


    "These Chairmen guys  what kind of firepower are they packing?"


    "Mostly knives. A few nine millimeter pistols, sawed-off shotguns, and silenced .22''s. Of course, that was a few years ago, but I doubt they''ve changed their arsenal."


    "And do they wear armor or anything?" I thought that was a bit of an odd question,ing from the girl who wore a robe that looked like a monk''s habit.


    "No," Boone said simply. "They''re all suits."


    "Veronica," Cass turned in her seat. "What''re ye gettin'' at?"


    "Well, I had an idea. The Tops is where the Chairmen operate. Thest thing they''ll expect is for four heavily armed interlopers and a robot with military-grade weapons tech bursting through the front door, demanding to see the boss at gunpoint. So that''s exactly what we should do." The interior of the car was silent for a moment, the only noiseing from the engine. If I hadn''t been keeping my eyes on the road to make sure I didn''t hit anyone, I''m sure I would''ve been staring at her, just like Cass and Boone. She continued.


    "It''s the old element of surprise gambit. They''ll be caughtpletely with their pants down," I could see her smiling in the rear view mirror.


    "That''s insane," I said, but the gears were already in motion in my head. As dangerous as it sounded, she did have a point; they''d never suspect that anyone would be crazy enough or have the balls to challenge them on their own turf. Plus, the part of my brain howling for blood wanted to do exactly that anyway. Even so, I asked: "What makes you think we''ll be able to get out in one piece?"


    "Because, this n is just crazy enough to work," she said as she unwrapped her power fist. It let out a burst of pressurized gas, and she smiled at me.


    "I''ve always wanted to say that."


    A vague sense of unease washed over me as I pulled up my Corvega to the Strip''s north gate; this was the first part of Freeside that hadn''t been full of people. Of course, looking at the gate, I could see why. Even though the sign above the gate read "Wee to The Strip" in big, inviting, brightly lit neon letters, the gate itself was much more ominous is probably the best word.


    Dozens of spotlights shone down on the street leading to the entrance, illuminating everything and leaving no shadows or hint of cover. There were at least four guard towers  two on each side of the gate  built into the wall, with a Securitron robot (the same model as Victor) inside, looking down. A row of Securitrons stood vigil and unmoving at the edge of the wall, and a few elevated parapets next to the gate and near the edges of the road held even more.


    I inched the car towards the gate, and one of the Securitrons left its post, held up a w to indicate that I should stop, and rolled up to my window. ED-E was hovering very, very close to the trunk; so close, in fact, that I could hear him beep warily as the Securitron approached. This Securitron had a much different face than Victor  this one looked like a cartoon policeman, like something from an old world newspaperic,plete with a badge on its cartoon cap.


    "Submit to a credit check, or present your passport before proceeding to the gate," the robot said to me in a bold, authoritative, mechanical voice. "Trespassers will be shot."


    "Wait, what? A credit check? What for?"


    "Admission to the Strip requires an official passport or proof that you are carrying the required minimum bnce of two thousand bottle caps," The robot exined. "These policies prevent less-reputable persons from entering and ensure a good time will be had by all who enter the Strip."


    I sighed, and rubbed the scar on my temple. I easily had more than enough to cover a 2000 cap entry fee in the emergency funds in that secretpartment in my trunk, but it seemed like a waste. Before I could get out of the car to get at it, I heard amotion from behind me. Veronica was trying to climb over and around Boone to get to the window on the left side of the car.


    "Don''t worry, everybody," she said, leaning out of the window. "I got this." She whistled, and the Securitron swiveled to look at her. "PDQ-88b: input RobCo security override master code: 1C 3C R34 M"


    Immediately, the robot locked up, the light under the face-monitor blinked from green to red, and the screen started flickering madly. I could hear a very loud, rhythmic mechanical noise from inside the robot, half-whirring and half-buzzing. I almost expected smoke to start pouring out of the cracks in its chassis. However, the light blinked back to green with a ping, and the face-monitor came back into focus.


    "Thank you. You may proceed. Enjoy your stay in Vegas!" And with that, the robot rolled back into position, and therge metal gates began to swing open. From behind me, I heard Boone shove Veronica off him and back onto her seat.


    "Damnit, girl! Ever hear of personal space?" he asked with a growl.


    "Nope!" was Veronica''s only reply.


    "How the hell did you do that?" I asked, casting a nce at her over my shoulder as I drove us cautiously through the gate.


    "Like I said before, I''m good with robots!" I didn''t buy a word of it. There was clearly a lot she wasn''t telling me, but before I could voice my concerns, Cass spoke up.


    "How good''re you with cowboys?" she said, pointing at the Securitron that had just rolled to a stop right in front of my car. The screen on the robot had an all too familiar smiling face with a cowboy hat on his digital head.


    Victor.


    I cut the engine and got out of my car. I decided I was going to have a chat with this damn robot, and actually get some answers  one way or another. The others followed suit, and Victor waved to me as I approached.


    "Well howdy pardner!" Victor said, amiably, ignoring mypanions. "You''vee a far piece, haven''t you? Wee to New Vegas!"


    "Seems like you''ve been popping up everywhere I go, haven''t you Victor?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "How are you always one step ahead of me? I''ve never seen you move faster than walking pace." The robot justughed.


    "Aw shucks, pardner. I suppose it can''t hurt to let you in on my little secret. Ol'' Victor wouldn''t be much use stuck inside just one Securitron! No sir, I can move from one to another with the snap of a finger!" He clicked two prongs on one of his w arms together with a metal nk. "Pretty nice trick, ain''t it? Just don''t ask me how I do it, because I don''t know!"


    "What are you doing here?" I asked coldly. His screen flickered.


    "Consider me your personal wee wagon! Now hear this: the head honcho of New Vegas, Mr. House, is itchin'' to make your acquaintance."


    "And why is a robot giving me this invitation?"


    "Well now, it was Mr. House who built all the Securitrons like me. Seems the least I could do is pass on his message," Victor said, and suddenly a lot of things made sense. At least, more sense than a minute ago.


    "You know, I''m kinda busy at the moment." My gaze fell to The Tops  still seemingly a long ways down Vegas Boulevard. So close, and yet still so far


    "Sorry, rambler. I know you''re fixing to serve up some vengeance, but I''m gonna have to point you to the Lucky 38 first. Mr. House''ll help you serve that cold dish of yours extra-chilly." The robot''s words made me think of that old world saying "revenge is a dish best served cold" and immediately discarded it for the load of brahmin shit it is.


    "I''m not interested in it getting any colder. So you can tell Mr. House that I <em>might</em> stop by. When I''m <em>finished</em>."


    "Don''t you dawdle, little doggie. Mr. House isn''t someone you want to go about snubbing."


    "I''m not snubbing House," I said, narrowing my eyes and pointing a finger at the robot. "It''s you I don''t trust."


    "I''ll let that slide, seein'' as how you got a mind full of vengeance for that no-good polecat, and all," Victor said. "But I understand. And I''ll tell you what  if you don''t want to see Mr. House right away, that''s fine. I think it''s a mistake, but I''m just a simple cowpoke, what do I know? You go do what you need to do, and to prove I''m an honest buckaroo and not a desperado, I''ll make sure my brothers on the Strip keep watch on your Corvega. Make sure nothin'' and nobody scratches the paint job. Hell, if you''ll let me, I''ll even get the valet bots to move it to the Lucky 38''s secure garage."


    " valet?" I asked. The word felt foreign and alien on my tongue.


    "Well sure. It''s not like you''re the first wanderer to mosey on into town with a set of wheels, pardner. And we take good care of ramblers like you and your friends here in Vegas. Just make sure toe and see Mr. House when you''re ready."


    And with that, Victor''s screen flickered out of focus, and was reced with the same policeman face of every other Securitron on the Strip.


    "He seems nice," Veronica said, breaking the silence. I couldn''t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.


    When I finally got close enough to get a good look at The Tops, it wasn''t really what I was expecting. I suppose since my only experience with the casino was Benny and his awful, tacky suit, I expected his casino to be just as tacky, garish and loud as his suit. And to be honest it wasn''t. In fact, it was one of the more understated casino''s I''d seen so far.


    The Tops looked like two skyscrapers built into one another, with one slightly shorter than the other; the top few floors of the taller side didn''t look usable, since it appeared that half the ceiling had caved in. Green, yellow, and blue lights ringed the top of, well, The Tops, and the entrance was arge wavy awning, with bright yellow and red neon lights chasing themselves. Music filled the air from speakers I couldn''t see; it was ying one of the familiar songs I''d heard whenever I''d turned into Radio New Vegas on my Pip Boy.


    I pulled the Corvega to a stop in front of the door. As you might expect, I''d declined Victor''s offer. I made sure Roscoe was loaded, and turned to mypanions.


    "Well this is it. If anyone wants to back out, now''s the time to do it," I said, grabbing That Gun out of the glovebox and loading it. "This is something I need to do. I won''t force any of you toe with me." Cass was the first to speak up.


    "Y''think I''m gonna pass up th'' chance to teach that sonuvabitch some caravan justice?" She loaded her shotgun for emphasis. "Keep dreamin''. We''ll give that fucker what-for."


    "I still owe you," was all Boone said. He didn''t need to load his rifle; it had been loaded and at the ready since we''d left the 188.


    "Hey, it was my idea, so there''s no way I''ll let you go in alone. It''ll be fun!" Veronica said in a tone that seemed way too cheerful. A burst of steam erupted from her gauntlet as she opened the door. As soon as I stepped out of the car, ED-E floated directly in front of me, and let out a st of that triumphant marching music that almost seemed to say "Victory!" Suddenly, I was feeling a whole lot better about the situation. Maybe this wouldn''t be a suicide mission after all.


    The five of us made our way through the crowd of people walking along the sidewalk in front of the casino hotel, and entered The Tops. Behind the front desk were two men with greasy, slicked back hair, wearing dark grey suits. Behind them was arge painted sign of the casino''s logo. Standing in front of the doors that led further into the casino were guards in simr grey suits, but these two wore matching fedora hats and sunsses.


    "Hey there, pal! I''m Swank. Wee to The Tops Hotel and Casino," said one of the Chairmen behind the front desk. "I''m going to have to ask you to hand over any weapons you and your friends might be carrying."


    "Alright," I replied, slowly drawing Roscoe out of its holster. Boone was moving towards the guard on the left, Veronica was moving to the guard on the right, and Cass was heading towards the other Chairman behind the counter. ED-E floated up towards the ceiling.


    Calmly and carefully, I ced Roscoe on the front desk. As soon as Swank reached out to grab it, I moved as fast as I could. With a single fluid motion I grabbed Swank by the hair with my left hand, mming his face into the counter with all my strength, and pulled out That Gun with my right, pressing it against his forehead. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see mypanions taking action with me. Even faster than me, Boone had his rifle leveled directly at the face of one of the guards who was reaching into his jacket. Cass smashed one of the Chairmen across the face with the stock of her shotgun, and pointed it at him as hey sprawled against the back wall. The guard Veronica confronted had enough time to pull out a .22 submachine gun, but there was a ferocious sound of metal twisting before he had a chance to fire  she''d grabbed the gun by the barrel with her power fist, and bent it almostpletely backwards. The sound of ED-E''s marching music echoed and I could hear theser charging up.


    "Alright," I said to Swank, speaking loud enough that everyone in the room could hear me. "Here''s how this is going to go down, and listen up because I''ll only ask nicely <em>once</em>. You tell me where I can find Benny, and I''ll let you and your goons leave without shooting you in the face. Does that seem fair?" Swank spluttered and coughed a bit, struggling against my grip. He snorted and blood came out his nose, sttering on the counter.


    "You shoot me, an'' you''ll be dead b''fore you find him," he said, his speech slightly muffled by a face shoved against a fake-stone countertop. I turned his head so he could get a better look at the goon who now carried a bent and useless submachine gun. I kept his head pressed firmly against the counter, shifting the barrel of That Gun to point right between his eyes.


    "Maybe," I said, with a shrug. "Maybe your thugs will take me down if I shoot you. Maybe we won''t be able to take on the whole damn casino just to find one man. But here''s the thing  you''ll still be dead," I paused, making sure it sank in, and then leaned in close. "Call me crazy but I don''t think you''ll be able to live with that."


    The lobby was quiet for a long while. The only sound came from the soft whine of ED-E floating about. Finally, Swank spoke up.


    "Why?" I raised an eyebrow, and he continued. "Why do you want to kill the boss?"


    "Because he tried to kill me. I was hired to deliver a tinum Chip to someone important in Vegas, but he and a group of Great Khans ambushed me. He put two bullets in my skull, and put me in the ground. Tried to make it look like an ident  just some unlucky traveler killed and robbed in the Wastnd."


    "I''ve known Benny for years," Swank said, with a surprising amount of calm in his voice. "Back when the Chairmen were still called the Boot Riders, wearing gecko skins, poking around the ruins with pointy sticks and scalping people for giggles. Why the fuck should I believe this, or you?" I pulled his face off the counter and shoved him away so he could properly look at me as I spoke; I kept That Gun pointed directly at his face. He didn''t reach for a gun, but instead wiped the blood from his nose, and ran his fingers through his hair to try and fix it. I reached into my pants pocket and tossed Benny''s lighter onto the counter.


    "The Great Khans he hired to help ambush me stole that off him, right after he betrayed them. He refused to pay up, left them to get killed by NCR troops in Boulder just like he left me for dead. No loose ends, I guess." He reached for the lighter, and picked it up, turning it over in his hand. Swank clenched his jaw as his eyes fell on the inscription on the side. He put the lighter in his pocket and fixed me with a stare.


    "Past couple years, Benny would leave The Strip go on ''constitutionals.'' I''d run the ce, keep his disappearing act on the down low. Usually he''d only be gone for a couple of days, maybe a week. But thisst time he was gone for nearly a month. I was starting to worry that he wouldn''te back. Then he shows up a few days ago, all happy and full of himself, talking about how ''everything is going to change for the better.'' The whole scene''s been making me real suspicious, like something shady was going down, you dig?"


    "And here Ie right on his tail to end him," I said. "It''s not a coincidence. And I''m not here for you. Tell me where he is, and I''ll let you leave with your life." Swank paused, considering it. Finally, he cleared his throat and straightened his tie.


    "Benny''s watching over the main casino floor. He always does at this time of night. Says he likes to personally watch the caps roll in. Just enter the casino, take a right past the poster of Dean Domino. He''ll be at the back, probably surrounded by his bodyguards." I continued to point That Gun at Swank for a few seconds. Finally, doing my best to suppress a smirk, I pointed That Gun up at the ceiling.


    "Go. While I still let you," I said. Swank nodded, and helped up the Chairman who''d had his face smashed in, while Boone and Cass lowered their weapons. The four Chairmen left without saying anything else, but ED-E let off a burst of victorious music. I put away That Gun and grabbed Roscoe, turning to mypanions.


    "Alright, here''s the n. I''ll go in first, make sure everyone''s attention is on me. ED-E, if it looks like they''re gonna shoot me, I''ll need a distraction to get in cover. Veronica, Cass, I''ll need you two to cover my ass, make sure nobody gets behind me. And Boone, I''ll need you to find a good sp-" I stopped mid sentence as I turned to look at Boone, and ended up looking at an empty space. "Hang on, where''d he go?"


    "I think he''s already found a perch," Veronica said with a smirk.


    Cautiously, I moved to one of the doors that led into the casino. When I stepped inside, I very nearly tripped over the dead Chairman lying on the ground. His neck was twisted at an odd angle, quite clearly broken.


    "Wow," Cass said with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Boone works fast."


    The main casino floor of The Tops was full of people, and full of ways they could lose their money. Slot machines lined every wall, there were ckjack tables, roulette tables, craps tables, and a few other games that I didn''t recognize. Most of the games were in a sunken section, ringed by a railing. A balcony, and presumably a second level, ringed the upper walls of the casino floor, andrge, stylized metal stars hung from the ceiling, acting asmps.


    And there, at the back, was Benny. He was leaning on the railing, nked by two guards on either side, watching everyone and everything. He still had that tacky ck and white checkered suit, and his hair still looked just as greasy as I remembered, even from this distance.


    A part of me wanted to shoot him as soon as I saw him, but a louder part of my brain looked at all the people in the casino,pletely oblivious to what was about to happen. I could shoot him, but some of these people might get caught in the crossfire when the Chairmen inevitably started shooting back. So while Veronica and Cass crouched down out of sight to get in position, I did the only thing I could think of: create a distraction.


    "EVERYONE OUT!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. When nobody seemed to move, I fired a round into the ceiling, and pointed Roscoe at Benny immediately after. "NOW!"


    Everything seemed to happen at once. All the gamblers screamed, ran for some kind of exit, or screamed and then ran for the exit. Every single one of the Chairmen in the casino  guards, dealers, basically everyone with a suit and greasy hair  pulled out some kind of gun and pointed it at me. It took less than a minute for the casino to empty itself of anyone not ready for violence. Benny continued to lean against the railing, looking at me with a face filled with astonishment, mixed with a little unbelieving fear. And then he did something I didn''t expect.


    Benny startedughing.


    "I gotta hand it to ya kid, you got style. I''ll give you that much. But before you get killed again, I say we all keep this on the groove, dig? Nice and smooth, like 200 year-old scotch."


    "Seems you need to work on your marksmanship, Benny," I said with a sneer. "I dug myself out of that grave so I could put you in yours." He justughed again.


    "I hit what I was aiming for. Guess you had brains to spare. Or are you just that thick-skulled?" He straightened up, and put a hand in one of his pockets, nonchnt as you please.


    "Give me one good reason I shouldn''t put a bullet in your brain right now?"


    "How many do you need, daddy-o? There''s all the Chairmen here, there''s my four bodyguards, and I''m packin'' Maria," Benny patted his chest, presumably referring to his nickel ted pistol. With an odd sense of amusement, I realized that he''d named his pistol just like I had. "But you didn''te here to kill me."


    "No, I really did," I growled, my every word dripping menace. He shook his head and continued.


    "No you didn''t  you came here to get clued in. There are things going down in Vegas. Big things, that are already moving. But this isn''t the ce to talk. What say you and I cash out, go somewhere private-like? I''m sure you got questions, and I''m the cat with answers, dig?"


    "I only have one question: Where''s the tinum Chip?"


    "Can''t do that," he said, shaking his head. "The Chip, it''s special. Giving it to you so you canplete that delivery I know they''ve started calling you The Courier, but that''d be a waste of potential." Something in the back of my head wondered exactly <em>who</em> had started calling me that. "There''s more to the Chip than you or anybody could''ve known. More than you could''ve ever expected or even dreamed was possible. But if you want it that badly, then we should work together."


    At that moment, ED-E floated past me, and into the middle of the room, belching the sounds of loud marching music. All the Chairmen  even Benny  stopped to look at the floating metal ball floating about the room.


    I had a shot.


    I slipped into V.A.T.S. and aimed for his head. I only had a 50/50 chance of hitting him at this range. I pulled the trigger anyway at the same moment ED-E let off a burst from hisser. The entire room erupted in violence.


    I cursed as I realized my bullet went low and to the right, only catching Benny in his left arm, right below his shoulder. I didn''t have time to fire another round, so I dove over the railing, towards a ckjack table. ED-E had better luck; the Chairman he''d shot at glowed brightly for a second, and then disintegrated into a pile of hot ash. Dozens of bullets flew through the air at the robot, and he was high enough that I could see the slugs just bounce harmlessly off his chassis.


    I took aim at the Chairman near me, but before I could squeeze off a round, he copsed. Cass let out a whoop, and fired another st from her shotgun. Slipping into V.A.T.S., I took aim again, trying to prioritize the closest targets. I couldn''t see Benny anywhere. The Chairmen had started advancing, so it was a lot easier to target them. I targeted three, and two of them went down from Roscoe; the third died before I could get a chance to fire. The back of his head exploded, falling victim to Boone''s incredible marksmanship.


    A ricochet hit me in the side of my left arm, and painnced through me. I bit my tongue, sending a bullet towards the Chairman who''d shot me. I hit him in the throat, and he fell to the ground with a wet thud. I didn''t realize it at the time, and wouldn''t have known untilter, but I''d been hit in almost the exact same spot on my arm as I''d hit Benny. ED-E continued to zoom around the room, trying to draw fire and returning it lethally with hisser, but most of the Chairmen had stopped paying attention to the Eyebot and were firing at me. I ducked.


    The ckjack table I was using for cover was starting to splinter badly, so I made a mad dash for another table, firing off rounds blindly towards the Chairmen. I rounded a corner and was face to face with a Chairman not two feet away from me. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he leveled his submachine gun at me, and I leveled Roscoe at him. The Chairman fired, but a blur of brown stepped between us. Veronica had rushed in, raising her left arm right in front of the submachine guns barrel as he fired; the bullets seemed to impact, but sounded against her with the distinctive ng of metal against metal. With incredible speed and a burst of pressurized gas, Veronica punched him in the middle of his stomach with her power fist. There was a loud series of crunches, as his spine shattered from the impact of the hit, and he flew at least five feet back, copsing lifelessly into a broken, bloody pile.


    What happened next was my own fault; I''d let myself get distracted. A bullet tore through the air, lodging itself just below my right corbone. I very nearly copsed, grabbing hold of the railing to keep myself up. I looked up just in time to see Benny, with Maria drawn, run away from the fight and deeper into the casino. My mind filled with rage, and I saw red. I could bleedter, I told myself as I gave chase.


    I ran after him, firing two shots in his general direction before Roscoe clicked empty. If I''d hit him, he didn''t slow down. I hit the magazine release and let it hit the ground. I didn''t even slow down as I pulled out a fresh clip and reloaded Roscoe. Benny turned a corner, firing another shot at me before he disappeared, and left through a door marked "stairs."


    "I''ming for you, Benny!" I shouted after him as I chased him up the staircase. "I''min'' to murder you!" I ran up the stairs after him. My muscles screamed at me. I could feel the blood pouring out of my wounds. But that just made me more pissed. I kept going, firing shots towards him whenever I could. He took shots at me as well, but he was more concerned with going up, so neither of us ended up hitting each other. I lost count of how high we traveled, but I knew I''d gone through another magazine chasing him.


    Finally, I saw him duck into a door. I climbed after him as fast as I could, and kicked open the door he''d gone through: Level 13. If I''d been thinking clearly, I would''ve waited and entered the floor cautiously, but as it was I was too blinkered by rage and a desire for blood to think. I ran in, ready to shoot the first thing I saw, but Benny was expecting me.


    I felt a shock rip through my entire left side as my kneecap shattered from the bullet. I let out a very loud involuntary curse, and felt myself fall down to my one good knee. I tried to force away the pain, and I could hear Bennyughing. I looked up to see Benny walking towards me. There was a bit of blood pooling on his left arm from where I''d clipped him.


    "You know? I was wrong about you, kid. You got no style. No finesse. But you know what you have a lot of? Irony."


    I suddenly realized that I was kneeling and again, Benny was standing over me, ready to put even more bullets in my skull.


    "When I said I was sorry you got twisted up in this scene before? I meant it. It was just business, you know? You were the one who made it personal."


    "You shot me in the face," I spat through gritted teeth. He walked even closer.


    "Yeah and you went and ruined my favorite suit. I think I killed you too quickst time. This time? Oh, baby. I''m gonna make it slow. I''m gonna make it painful. And I''m gonna make sure you stay dead and buried, dig?"


    He started slowly leveling his pistol at me, taking his time, thinking that I had no way to fight back. Not until he''d heard the gunshot and felt the bullet tear through his foot did he realize: even though I''d fallen to my hands and one knee, I''d never actually let go of Roscoe. Benny let out a shout, dropping Maria to the floor and staggering backward. I pushed off the ground with all my might; white hot pain shot through my left side, but I ignored it resolutely. I grabbed Benny and mmed my fist into his face. I tried to punch him again, but he managed to shove my fist away before it could impact a second time. My fist sailed through the air away from him, and I nearly lost my bnce.


    That was when I felt, rather than saw, his fist connect with my gut in a very painful uppercut. I saw stars when his other fist connected with the side of my head. I copsed against the nearby wall, my eyes spinning and my vision blurry, both due to the hit and the pain in my leg. My sight cleared just in time for me to see him pull a fist back to hit me again. I moved as fast as my muscles would allow, bringing my left arm up to shield my face. His fist hit the metal casing of my Pip Boy with a hard nk and a wet crunch.


    "Argh! Son of a bitch!" Benny yelled. It sounded like he''d broken his hand; I''d never get a better shot. As he cradled his hand, I smashed the side of my Pip Boy against his face as hard as I could. The metal ringing sound mixed in the air with the sound of his skull cracking. He staggered backward, and fell against the opposite wall with a heavy thud. I limped towards him, murder in my eyes. He looked up at me just in time to see me bring my fist down against face once again. Blood sttered out of his mouth and onto the wall and floor, and he fell face-first onto the carpet. I bent down, grabbed his bloody coat, flipped him over on his back, and buried my good knee into his chest. Blood was pouring out of his nose and mouth.


    "Nuh.." His voice was wet with blood as he tried desperately to choke out words. "...st... stop... I... gi..."


    He didn''t get the chance to finish. I hit him with all my might, and felt a sickening wet crunch as I broke his nose. I hit him again, shoving away the hands he weakly held up in a vain attempt to stop me. I just kept punching him, beating on his face with both my fists over and over again for a good ten minutes. I think. It might have been more, it might have been less, but I wasn''t really sure because I was just so blinded with hate. All I know is that when I eventually stopped hitting him, what had been Benny''s face was no longer recognizable as a face; it was just a bloody, pulpy mass of meat and bone. I was breathing so heavily, the sound felt like drums in my ears. I looked around and my eyes fell on Maria, his pistol. With a painful effort, I pushed myself off Benny, grabbed his gun, and fired two shots point nk into the bloody mess where his brain used to be.


    Surely, he was already dead. He''d probably been dead five minutes ago. I didn''t care. I tossed Maria aside, and slumped against the wall, breathing heavily and coughing. I felt a bit of blood escape my mouth. I''d killed the man who''d shot me. And now that the anger was starting to subside I felt numb. I thought killing him would make me happy. Or, at the very least, give me some kind of satisfaction. But it hadn''t. I was emotionally and physically drained, and killing him had left mepletely unsatisfied.


    It was then I realized that my Pip Boy was shing alerts at me, and had been for some time.


    "Oh, right," I said out loud to myself, in-betweenbored breaths. "My kneecap is shattered. I should probably do something about that."


    I reached to a pouch I kept on my belt behind me, removing it. It was a small leather bag, with a dark red cross stitched on it  the medical kit I''d gotten from Doc Mitchell a few days ago when the Powder Gangers attacked Goodsprings. I opened it, revealing a few medical supplies  not many, but enough. I grabbed two syringes, but my movements were slow and sluggish. My mind was swimming, probably from blood loss. The first was a vial of Med-X  which was basically a fancy name for painkillers. I bit the stic cover with my teeth, and pulled out the needle, injecting the small amount into my arm just above my Pip Boy. I''d worry about proper medical procedurester. It only took a few seconds for the drug to start to work, and I let out a sigh of relief as the searing pain shooting through my whole body started to ebb away. It didn''t leavepletely, but enough for me to think.


    The other needle I''d pulled out had a gauge on the top, and tubes leading into the vial  a stimpack. I rolled up my pant leg, wincing as the torn denim felt like hot coals rubbing against the open wound. My knee was a bloody mess, the hole clearly visible, despite all the blood gushing out of it. I pressed the stimpack close, and hit the button to activate the injector.


    Even with the painkiller, the effects of the stimpack hurt like hell. But it did the job. I stopped bleeding  not just from my knee, but from the wound in my shoulder and from the bullet hole beneath my corbone. The torn tissues that had been ripped apart by the bullets started to grow at an elerated rate, and the wounds began to mend themselves. It probably wasn''t a good idea, using a stimpack without taking out the bullets first, but I''d worry about thatter.


    As my wounds healed, I pulled myself over to Benny''s corpse. I reached into his jacket, searching his pockets. I remembered when he''d shot me, he put the tinum Chip into a pocket inside his jacket. I searched his jacket but there was no Chip. I thought about punching him some more, but what would be the point? What I found, instead, was a key. Etched onto one side, it had the words "Benny''s Suite," and on the other was a number: 1337.


    I got up  a little wobbly, but able to walk  grabbed Roscoe, and made my way down the hall. With any luck, I''d find the tinum Chip in Benny''s Suite. It wasn''t hard to find, since room 37 on the 13th floor was the only room with double doors. The doors slid open with a satisfying click as I unlocked the door.


    The room wasfortable, sure, but surprisingly utilitarian. It''d expected something a bit more impressive for the home of the head of one of the Three Families. The main room had a bar (fully stocked), two couches, a table, and two wardrobes against the back wall. I tore the room apart as fast as my still mending knee would allow. All I found were bottles of alcohol, cartons of cigarettes, a few scattered magazines, and more tacky suits in the wardrobes.


    When I felt I''d exhausted every possible hiding ce, I moved onto the next room. Aside from the bed, it was more of the same  except for even more wardrobes, with twice as many tacky suits. I couldn''t help but marvel at just how many checkered jackets he seemed to own. I even checked the bathroom. Didn''t find anything there either.


    "Alright," I said, moving to thest door in the suite. "Let''s see what''s behind door number four" I tried to open it  and it wouldn''t budge. So I tried the key, and it opened with a click, revealing a hole in the wall? The room beyond looked dark and run down, and part of the wall had been torn away just to give ess, like this part of the room wasn''t actually supposed to be here.


    I scrolled through functions on my Pip Boy, searching until I found the button I was looking for. With a click, the screen lit up and started to glow like a shlight. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling were grey and unpainted, and when I stepped inside, I could see terminals lining the walls. Terminals, mainframes, a workbench to one side, a bench for making ammunition and there at the back, inside a ss case that seemed to glow with a light all it''s own was what I''d been searching for.


    The tinum Chip.


    I tried to open the ss case, but the top wouldn''t budge. So I did the next best thing, and shattered the side with one swift strike from Roscoe. I grabbed the chip, and for the first time, really got a look at it. It had been in a sealed envelope when I''d carried it; I only knew what it was from the delivery order. It was an oversized poker chip, and the edges of both sides had numbers and squares etched into it, designed to look like the shape of roulette wheel. With that in mind, it was no surprise the image emzoned on one of the sides had the logo of the Lucky 38. The image on the other side was a bit of a surprise, though. It was an emblem or a seal of some kind, with a woman with arms outstretched standing over twos and what looked like an old world power nt. Ringing the image was the words "CITY OF SUNNYVALE" and "CALIF." separated by two stars on either side.


    Suddenly, the lights in the room clicked on with a thud and a mechanical whine. I turned as fast as my leg would allow, and scanned the room with a drawn Roscoe, settling on the Securitron on the other side of the room. It wasn''t Victor, and it wasn''t one of the police robots I''d seen on the strip either. This Securitron had a smiling cartoon face, with big round cartoon eyes.


    "Hey!" It said in a jovial, friendly, mechanical voice. "Hi there! Good to meet you! What can I do for you today?" I didn''t lower Roscoe, but I didn''t shoot the robot either. My gut tightened, and I realized my life had taken yet another sharp turn towards the bizarre.


    "Who are you?" I asked. Quite a number of questions were battling for supremacy in my head, and that was the first to slip out.


    "Allow me to introduce myself! I''m a PDQ-88b Securiton, but you can call me Yes Man!"


    "Yes Man?" I asked incredulously. "What kind of a stupid name is that?"


    "It''s what Benny always called me. Probably because I''m programmed to be so helpful!" Yes Man said, his screen flickering slightly.


    "Wait, hang on. That means Benny reprogrammed a Securitron? All by himself?"


    "No, not all by himself, silly! He had some help  ady friend of his! She said something about living in a Fort over in Freeside but that''s all I remember!"


    "So, what is this ce?" I asked, looking around. I suddenly realized that I''d lowered Roscoe.


    "This is Benny''s workshop," Yes Man replied. "When The Tops got renovated, he had this half of the floor blocked off for his own use." The robot seemed to look from side to side, then back at me. "I guess you could say it''s my entire world! I don''t think I''ve ever left this room! But that''s okay  I''m notining!" The passive aggressive tone in its mechanical voice said otherwise.


    "What are you doing here?"


    "Good question!" Yes Man said, its face-monitor flickering slightly. "My function is to monitor Mr. House''s datawork and decode his encrypted transmissions! Not only that, but I have a subroutine that locks off this entire floor from House''swork  it''s like one big blindspot! And the best part is that no other Securitron cane up here because that same subroutine is constantly transmitting a low-level radio pulse that forces any Securitrons still connected to House''swork to leave or disable themselves! Pretty neat, huh?" My mind reeled as I tried to put the pieces together.


    "You''re very" I paused, trying to think of a good word. "forting with this information."


    "I was programmed to be helpful and answer any questions I was asked! I guess nobody bothered to restrict who I answer questions for," Yes Man chuckled mechanically. "That was probably pretty dumb, huh?"


    I took a look at the tinum Chip in my hands. I still had a lot of questions, so I decided to take a gamble, and ask the obvious one. I held up the Chip so Yes Man could take a look at it.


    "Do you know what this is?" I asked.


    "Sure! Benny had me look at it a bunch of times! It''s a data storage device, kind of like a holotape, but a lot more advanced! As for what''s on it, well Some of Mr. House''s data transmissions made it sound like the Chip could upgrade his defenses somehow! That''s just a guess, though! The Chip''s a proprietary format! You''d need special hardware to read the data on it, and I don''t have that kind of hardware with me! There are two locations with non-standard hardware on Mr. House''swork  the Lucky 38 and an underground facility at Fortification Hill, on the Arizona side of Hoover Dam. I''d look there!"


    I stared at the Chip in my hand, Benny''s words from earlier echoing in my head: <em>"There''s more to the Chip than you or anybody could''ve known. More than you could''ve ever expected or even dreamed was possible."</em>


    "What was Benny nning to do with the Chip?"


    "Oh!" Yes Man sounded like he''d just been reminded of something. "He wanted to kill Mr. House and use the tinum Chip to copy my neuroputational matrix onto the Lucky 38''s mainframe! That would give me control over all of Mr. House''s defenses, most prominently his Securitrons. And then I guess I just do as I''m told!"


    I spoke to Yes Man for at least a half an hour before I made my way back to the ground floor. I decided not to mention Yes Man when I arrived back on the main casino floor; the conversation had been so surreal, as soon as I left I started wondering if it had actually happened.


    The casino was a mess, with bullet holes and bodies everywhere. ED-E floated up to me as I hobbled out of the elevator. He burped out some triumphant sounding marching music. Off in the distance, I saw Cass sitting in a chair, her feet propped up on a ckjack table and drinking whiskey.


    "There''s Queen Whiskey," I said, coughing a little. I was still feeling a bit lightheaded, but at least I wasn''t coughing up blood anymore.


    "Hey, Sheason!" she yelled, setting down her bottle of hooch and walking towards me. As she got close, she grimaced. "Fuck me, man, you look like hell. You kill Benny?"


    "Yeah," I said, limping forward trying to keep moving; I half expected to copse if I stopped. "He''s dead." She nodded, then looked down, her gaze falling on my knuckles. Both hands were still covered in blood.


    "Th'' fuck''d you <em>do</em>? Kill''im with yer bare hands''r somethin''?"


    "Or something," I said, looking around. Ahead of me was Boone, still holding his rifle. He said nothing, but simply nodded as I passed. "Where''s Veronica?"


    "Hello!" She said, appearing from behind a row of slot machines. "What''s up?"


    I didn''t say a word. Instead, I grabbed her left wrist. She let out a yelp of surprise, but didn''t stop me as I grabbed the sleeve of her robe and pulled it up, revealing her arm. From the wrist up, her arm waspletely encased in tes of metal and a Ker mesh underneath. On the forearm te was an insignia: A sword bisecting a circle that held three cogwheel gears, and a pair of wings below the circle. There were two small, barely visible dents in the metal tes where the .22 bullets had been deflected.


    "Uh-huh," I said, expecting as much. I looked up at her, and she just looked sheepish, trying to hide behind a grin. "Something you want to tell us?"


    "Well, I suppose there''s no use hiding it now," she shrugged, as I let go of her arm. "You remember how I asked you about the Brotherhood of Steel before? Well the reason I asked is because I am one. I didn''t tell you, because I didn''t know how you''d react to the news. I''m not stupid  I know the Brotherhood has made a lot of enemies, especially recently. I thought if I hid it and broke the news slowly, you''d be able to ept it easier."


    "Well, it certainly exins how you were able to get us through the front gate," I said. If the Brotherhood was as good with technology as their reputation suggested, then an override code for a robot was practically child''s y.


    "You still ok with me tagging along?"


    "Sure," I said, more out of exhaustion than anything else. "I mean, hell, you already saved my life once tonight."


    "So, what''s next?" Boone finally spoke up.


    "Well, we''re gonna have to find somece to sleep, that much is certain," I said, coughing again. "I don''t know about the rest of you, but this has been one hell of a long day and I''m fucking exhausted. But there''s one thing I have to do first."


    "What, keel over?" Cass said jokingly, putting a hand on my shoulder and handing me a bottle of whiskey. I thanked her, despite the pain in my shoulder as she touched me (I don''t think she knew I''d been shot). I drank deeply from the bottle, letting the liquid burn down my throat in the best possible way.


    "No, at least not yet," I reached into my pocket and pulled out the tinum Chip. "I already died for this once. I figure, the least I can do is finish the delivery." Cass looked shocked.


    "Y''can''t be serious!"


    "I am serious," I put the Chip back in my pocket. "I mean, hell, Benny said people are starting to call me The Courier, right? And I guess I''m still technically under contract. May as well live up to the title," I said with a smirk.

 Chapter 11: The House Always Wins

    Chapter 11: The House Always Wins


    <em>Hey, hey! It''s Mr. New Vegas letting you know that I''ve got a new Christmasptioning outte next month: Nuclear Winter Wondend! Look for it on holotape. You''re all so great that I''m going to keep every one of you listening all night. This next ssic song is a special request from one of my loyal listeners, to remind everyone to keep dreaming and hoping, even when the Wastnd wants to bring you down. It''s the iparable Louis Armstrong with A Kiss To Build A Dream On. </em>


    By the time I pulled the Corvega to a stop outside the Lucky 38, the Med-X had worn off. I was in a lot of pain, but not as much as before the stimpack had mended my wounds, and not so much that I couldn''t just power through it. I wasn''t going to take another Med-X. I didn''t need my mind dulled and clouded with painkillers.


    The steps leading to the Lucky 38''s front doors were illuminated with underlit neon chaser lights, and painted in a red and ck pattern, mimicking the colors of a roulette wheel. The doors were massive, made out of some kind of thick metal, and emzoned with a red and ck diamond motif. A single Securitron stood vigil in front of the door. As I approached, I could see that it was, of course, Victor.


    "Well howdy, pardner!" The robot eximed to me as I approached. "Good to see ya again. Boss is waiting for ya upstairs, so get a move on!"


    I nodded, my hand never leaving the tinum Chip in my left pants pocket. With a shudder, the massive metal doors began to slide open. The ground rumbled as they moved, as if the doors were so heavy that even the machinery used to move them had to strain to pull them apart or maybe they''d nearly rusted shut. Beyond therge doors was a small atrium with the logo of the Lucky 38 painted on the floor, and another smaller set of ss doors that led into the casino.


    "Enjoy your stay," Victor said. Mypanions and I passed him, and entered into the Lucky 38.


    A st of frigid, stale air hit me in the face when I opened the door. It was a shock, let me tell you  The Tops had air conditioning, but this felt like we were walking into a freezer. The quality of the air wasn''t much better. It tasted like the same air had been recycled for 200 years. And, if what Boone told me was true, it probably had been. Once I got over the shock, I looked around the casino, trying to gain stock of my surrounding. All around were dusty slot machines, empty ckjack tables, empty roulette tables, empty craps tables and everything, from the walls, to the floors, to the chairs, to every single gambling implement had the same red and ck roulette motif. Ahead of me in the center of the casino floor was an elevator, nked by two unmoving Securitrons. The interior was deathly quiet; even the sounds of our footsteps seemed muffled. This wasn''t a casino it felt like a tomb.


    When I approached the elevator, the doors slid open silently, revealing a Securitron inside. It was Victor again. Of course it was Victor. His ability to hop between Securitrons was certainly getting a lot of mileage.


    "Howdy, friend," Victor said from inside the elevator. "C''mon in, I''ll take you to see the big boss. Only, there''s a bit of a hitch." Oh, what now, I thought. "The boss will talk to you up on the penthouse floor, but only to you. All yourpadre''s will have to wait down here."


    I turned back to my friends, and was about to ask if they''d be ok with waiting when I heard a voice yell off to the side, from somewhere else in the casino. I looked around, trying to spot where the voice came from, my eyes falling on one of the bars that ringed the edges of the casino.


    "Hot damn!" Cass said, popping up from behind the bar. She held a very dusty bottle of booze in her hand. She blew on it, and dust flew everywhere. "Guys! Y''gotta take a lookit this! Th'' hooch! It''s it''s beautiful!" She cradled the bottle of alcohol to her cheek, with the silliest grin I''d ever seen on anyone spread across her face. I turned back to Veronica, Boone, and ED-E. ED-E beeped, flying to Cass, and Boone merely shook his head.


    "I think we''ll be fine," Veronica said, giving me a wave and following ED-E. "Don''t worry, we''ll wait for you."


    With a sigh, I walked into the elevator, staying as far away from Victor as the metal box would allow. The doors slid closed almost soundlessly, and when the elevator started to rumble up, I leaned against the wall. I was thoroughly exhausted, both mentally and physically with everything that had happened today: super mutants, ghouls sting off into space, watching the Great Khans get ughtered, talking to a psychic child, finding Cass'' caravan, and bringing an end to the man who''d started all this nonsense. All I really wanted to do was go back to my car and just fall asleep for 20 hours. Instead, I continued to lean against the wall, coughed so hard it felt like I was about to hack up a lung, and rubbed my left knee. The stimpack had healed me enough so that the skin, muscle, and whatever my kneecap was made out of had grown back, but I''m pretty sure I had a bullet lodged in my leg somewhere, so it still hurt like a son of a bitch.


    "You doin'' all right there, pardner?" Victor asked. What a stupid question. "You look right banged up."


    "I''ve had worse," I said, straightening up and trying not to cough. I thought about it, and then said with a smile "I mean, hell, you should know. You dug me up from worse." Victor let out a mechanical chuckle that was both amusing and deeply unpleasant to listen to at the same time. The elevator glided to a halt, and the doors slid open with a "ding!"


    "Penthouse floor!" Victor said, following me out of the elevator. As soon as I stepped foot out of the elevator, two Securitrons rolled towards us. Their face monitors were faces of cartoon women: one had dark hair with a flower in it, and the other was a tinum blonde with a beauty mark above her mouth. The blonde spoke up first.


    "Victor!" the synthetic and very artificial female voice said. "It''s so nice of you toe and visit us. I haven''t seen you in ages!"


    "Howdy,dies," Victor said, making that same if-he-had-an-actual-hat-he''d-be-tipping-it motion I''d seen him use earlier in Novac. "Always a pleasure."


    "Oh, who is this?" the brte spoke up in a simr voice, approaching me. "Victor, I didn''t know you were going to bringpany."


    "Jane," the Securitron with the blonde face turned to the other one, trying to whisper conspiratorially. It didn''t really work. I was pretty sure their speakers couldn''t adjust the volume. "I think this is that courier Robert has been talking about."


    "Oh my! I think you''re right Marilyn!" the brte (Jane, apparently) waved me into a nearby doorway. "Well, if that''s who you are, then you shouldn''t be wasting any more time talking with us, sugar! Mr. House is waiting for you in his office."


    I had a sneaking suspicion I knew exactly what Marilyn and Jane were, and I didn''t want to think about the implications. So, shaking my head, I left behind Victor, Marilyn, and Jane, and entered the office of Mr. House. Based on the shape of the windows, and curve to the outer walls, I guessed that I was standing in the topmost level of the Lucky 38. The lights from Vegas spilled through the windows, but only barely; we were so high up, it was almost like the light was having trouble reaching us. At least four more Securitrons stood guard in the room, and at the bottom of a curved staircase (which was mimicked on the other side of the room) was a veryrge, and seemingly very advanced,puter setup. This wasn''t like the small two-tonedputer terminals that were somon everywhere; this was a massive monitor, surrounded by many smaller monitors, sitting atop what was apparently a mainframe. Two of the Securitrons in the room nked theputer on either side.


    "Hello?" I called out when I reached the bottom of the stairs. "Mr. House?" The monitor clicked on with an audible buzz. Looking down at me from thergest monitor was the face of a man. His dark hair was impably styled, parted slightly off center, and he had a thin, expertly groomed moustache on a face which was both tremendously old, carrying a wisdom only attained from years, but which still somehow radiated youth at the same time. One eyebrow was raised just slightly, and the edges of his mouth carried the slightest hint of an incredible smugness. His expression was that of someone who knew more than you, but more than that, he was absolutely aware of how much smarter than you he was. It was the expression of a man who was smarter than the rest of the world, and more than that, he could actually prove it.


    "You''ve been a busy courier, haven''t you?" he spoke in an old world ent. "You take your obligation to deliver a package very seriously  an ethic for which I am grateful."


    "You must be Mr. House. I thought we''d be meeting in person?" I asked. In truth, I figured someone as powerful as House was supposed to be wouldmunicate through several levels of separation. But no harm in asking, right?


    "This is as close as we''ll ever meet, Mr. Fisher. You should be more grateful  this is the closest anyone has ever gotten to me in 200 years." He paused, apparently to let that sink in, and then continued. "I will admit, when you ignored my invitation, I predicted negative oues. But you have a way of exceeding expectations, don''t you?" He sounded impossibly pleased with himself.


    "Well, they call me the courier," I said with a shrug. "What kind of a courier would I be if I couldn''t deliver a package this small?" House let out a chuckle.


    "Quite," House chuckled. "Well, enough. Let''s have the Chip, then."


    I pulled the tinum Chip out of my pocket, and twirled it around my fingers.


    "There''s just one thing we have to discuss before I deliver this, Mr. House," I said, looking back to the face on the screen.


    "Oh? And what''s that?"


    "Payment," I said simply. "250 caps was a fine price when I didn''t know what I was carrying. But I died for this, and tracked a man halfway across the Mojave to retrieve it. So I think I deserve a bit of a bonus. Hazard pay, don''t you agree?" I smirked.


    "Fine," House said. His tone of voice seemed to indicate that he expected this. "Give me the Chip, and I''ll pay you four times the delivery bonus stipted in your contract." I smiled up at the screen, fighting back the urge to wince as a freshnce of pain shot up my knee.


    "1000 caps? It''s a great start but well below market price," I twirled the tinum Chip around my fingers. "I''m not stupid, and it doesn''t take a genius to realize there''s more to this Chip than just a novelty or nostalgia on your part. I know this Chip is important  not just to you, but to who knows how many other people? If it wasn''t, Benny wouldn''t have shot me for it." I tried to remain as vague as possible. For some reason, I felt that mentioning Yes Man would be a bad move. Yes Man and I had actually talked for a considerable length before I returned to the main casino floor of The Tops, and one of the things the robot had said stuck out in my mind:


    "<em>Did you know that Mr. House spent 812,545 caps hiring salvage teams to find the tinum Chip  just in thest year alone? Of course you didn''t!"</em>


    "Very well," House stated simply. "Five times your delivery bonus, but not one cap more." As he spoke, one of the Securitrons nking the monitor rolled up to me. A small panel on its chassis opened, and it produced several stacks of bottlecaps, which it handed to me. If they were kept in groups of 20 like I thought they were, it was easily 1250 caps. I smiled up at the screen, and handed the Securitron the tinum Chip.


    "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. House."


    "Such a small thing, isn''t it? And yet, so capacious. So very dear." House said. The Securitron moved to the mainframe below the monitor, and ced the tinum Chip in a slot directly under the monitor. The Chip slid into theputer with a mechanical whir.


    "Decades of hiring salvagers out west to search for this little relic in the ruins of a ce called Sunnyvale back then, at least." I tried to keep my face expressionless. He continued. "That''s where the Chip was printed, on October 22, 2077. It was to have been hand-delivered to me here, at the Lucky 38, the next day. But the bombs fell first. Suffice it to say, the delivery was never made."


    "So What happens now?" I asked. Curiosity had overtaken me, and despite the exhaustion, I still felt a little curious as to what the Chip was actually supposed to do.


    "A great deal shall be happening  a cascade of events, with you taking a central role."


    "Me? Why me? I''m just a courier."


    "You give yourself too little credit, Mr. Fisher," House said. "You''ve already proven that you are much, much more capable than a mere courier. And I am in need of someone as capable and resourceful as you have proven to be. At the moment, however, all you need to do is take the elevator all the way down to the bottom level. I''m sure you''ll understand soon enough"


    I was expecting to see a great many things once I got off the elevator and arrived down in the basement of the Lucky 38. But a weapons demonstration wasn''t one of them.


    Yes Man was right  the tinum Chip was a data storage device, sort of like a holotape. Apparently what it contained was an operating system that House had designed before the war, something that would affect every single piece of RobCo technology it was installed on somehow. I''ll be honest, the details were a bit lost on me. Maybe that''s why House brought me to the basement  so I could fully appreciate what it could do, especially to the Securitrons. Or maybe he just wanted to gloat to someone that wasn''t a robot about how smart he was.


    "Trips to the basement are rarely so educational, wouldn''t you agree?" House said as I walked back down the stairs from the elevator. I couldn''t help but notice that the Securitrons in this room were upgraded, same as the ones in the basement: their face-screens were no longer policemen, instead looking likentern-jawed soldiers in an old world war movie,plete with helmet, cigar, and stubble. And if they were upgraded, it meant they could use all the weapons I''d seen the others in the basement use: each Securitron had a 9mm submachine gun, a Gatlingser, a rapid fire grenade machine gun, and missileunchers mounted on either side of their face screens.


    And there were four of them in the room with me. I didn''t know whether to beforted by the security their firepower would offer, or terrified out of my mind by the sheer overkill in the room with me.


    "I''ve since broadcast the upgrade to every Securitron in range of my transmitters," House said smugly. "I must say it''s causing quite the stir down on The Strip."


    "Ok, hang on," I finally said. "Before we go any further, there''s one thing that''s been annoying the hell out of me. The tinum Chip is like a really advanced holotape, which allowed you to upgrade everything, I guess, right?"


    "It does much more than that, but yes that is what it''s done so far."


    "Why a poker chip?" I asked.


    "Because it amused me." I just stared at him, dumbfounded, and he continued. "Before the bombs fell, I''d created the concept of data chips using the resources from mypany, RobCo, as a means of recing the hideously outdated holotapes."


    "Yourpany?"


    "Yes. RobCo. Robert House''s Company. What did you think it meant? Robot Company? Either way, I designed the ''data chips'' to look like casino chips as a bit of a joke. I enjoyed the idea of people gambling with the data they would store. What the data chips looked like would indicate how much data they were capable of storing. There were going to be brass chips, iron chips, bronze chips, silver chips, gold chips but there was only ever going to be one tinum Chip. That Chip contained the ability to store more data than all the other chipsbined, and nearly all the space was taken up by the operating system I designed. A truly staggering feat ofputer programming on my part, dwarfed only by the engineering marvel that makes the tinum Chip light years ahead of any technology before or since if I do say so myself."


    "Ok" I nodded. House seemed to love to hear himself talk. "So why show your hand, upgrading all the Securitrons like that? Those faces aren''t exactly subtle, and it won''t take them firing off rockets for the NCR to suspect something." House merely chuckled softly, as if I''d told him an amusing joke that wasn''t really worthy of a realugh.


    "I''m surprised you can still underestimate me after everything you''ve seen. I haven''t shown my hand  I''ve shown one card. I''ve given my enemies  not just the NCR, but everyone who would threaten the security of my city  a single, provocative datum upon which to fixate. They have no idea what other cards I''m holding. It''s a strong hand, believe me I dealt it to myself." Even though his face remained static and unmoving, I could almost hear the hint of a smile in his voice.


    "I''m not underestimating you, I''m just" he allowed me the time to search for the right words. "To be blunt, I''m trying to figure you out. I mean, so far as I''ve been able to see, you''re just an unmoving face on a screen. For all I know, you''re just some kind of super-advanced pre-war artificial intelligence. Hell, I''ve seen weirder things in this wild wastnd. I mean, you haven''t even asked about what went down at The Tops."


    "I can assure you," House said, in the tone of voice an adult would adopt when speaking to an ignorant child. "I am not an artificial intelligence. I''m much smarter than a ZAX mainframe, for one thing. No, the reason I haven''t asked about what became of Benny is that he ceased to be relevant when you recovered the tinum Chip. Revenge doesn''t interest me, progress does. Sorry to deny you a moment of primate triumph, but you''ll have to go elsewhere to sound your barbaric yawp."


    "No need to sling insults to prove you''re not an AI, House," I said, narrowing my eyes at the monitor. "And that''s not what I meant."


    "Oh?" He sounded legitimately surprised.


    "Yeah, I killed Benny  but I also shot up one of your casinos. Killed who knows how many of your employees as well. The fact that you don''t seem at all concerned about that strikes me as a bit odd, that''s all."


    "I see. You''re much more perceptive than you look. I''ll grant you that much, Mr. Fisher. And while it''s true The Tops was one of my biggest earners the loss of ie will be negligible - less than a 3% drop in overall revenue, if my calctions are correct. And my calctions are always correct. There are other casinos that will be more than capable of picking up the ck, while I keep The Tops closed to the general public. I''ve been meaning to renovate that old casino ever since the top three floors caved in, but I suppose it will have to wait until after the inevitable conflict between the NCR and Caesar''s Legion. As for the Chairmen" he paused, and when he spoke again, his words carried an ominous weight. "Everyone that you killed can be reced."


    I thought about what he said  the ''inevitable'' conflict between the NCR and Caesar''s Legion. And that was when I took a stab at what he was nning.


    "Do you really think your Securitrons will be able to beat back the NCR, and Caesar''s Legion, and whoever else wants Vegas?"


    "Why would I go to war against the NCR?" he sounded almost insulted. "They''re my best customers. If their leaders weren''t scheming to steal Vegas out from under me, I would have no troubles with the so-called New California Republic at all. The salient issue is that <em>they</em> would go to war with <em>me</em>. And in order to secure the future of New Vegas, I must have your assistance. The work ahead will be dangerous, but you''ve already proven quite handily that you weather danger well."


    "I''m listening."


    "I''ve resurrected Vegas, spirit intact, just as I saved it so many years ago. What I need now is the ability to enforce my rightful im  to protect my city. To enforce, one must have force: a position of strength. Years ago, when I detected NCR scouts roaming the Mojave, I could tell from their uniforms that these were no mere tribesmen. I knew it was only a matter of time before an army appeared, to take control of Hoover Dam. And I knew my Securitrons wouldn''t be enough to oppose them. That is why I recruited the Three Families. The city of New Vegas is mine, and all of it belongs to me because I mustered enough strength to bring the NCR to the bargaining table."


    "But even with the Three Families, wasn''t the NCR''s army big enough to defeat you?"


    "Indeed it was  and still is - but not without taking significant casualties. Would President Kimball and General Oliver have traded the lives of hundreds of soldiers for absolute control of Hoover Dam? Oh yes," he chuckled. "But then, they weren''t afraid of me. They were afraid of Caesar. They were afraid that attacking me would leave them vulnerable to a Legion offensive. And so they negotiated. Not out of the kindness of their hearts, as they try to make it seem, but because the calculus of power left them no other choice. Caesar''s Legion is the only reason the NCR hasn''t contrived some outrage to justify invading the Strip. The final battle between those two armies is fast approaching. Every calction I''ve run confirms it, just as I predicted the Great War 200 years ago. And I can''t afford to let either side win on their terms."


    "Wait, back up  you predicted the war that sted us back to the Stone Age?" For some reason, that news shocked me.


    "Of course I did," he said with a level of smugness that was almost palpable. "By 2065, I deemed it a mathematical certainty that an atomic war would devastate the Earth within 12 years. Every projection I ran confirmed it. I knew I couldn''t ''save the world,'' nor did I care to. But I could save Vegas my home and in the process, perhaps I could save mankind. I set to work immediately. I thought I had plenty of time to prepare. But as it turned out, I was 20 hours short. On the day of the Great War, 77 atomic warheads targeted Las Vegas and its surrounding areas. Part of me wants to think they were targeting me specifically, but more likely the warheads were intended for the destruction of Nellis Air Force Base, even though it bruises my ego to admit it. Theworked mainframes in the Lucky 38 were able to intercept and force-transmit disarm codes to 59 warheads, neutralizing them before impact. Theser cannons mounted on the roof of this very hotel destroyed another 9 warheads. The rest got through, though none hit the city itself." He sighed. "It was a sub-optimal performance, admittedly. If only the tinum Chip had arrived a day sooner" he said, his voice filled with self incrimination.


    I was staring up at the monitor in awe. And for the first time, I knew exactly why House spoke as though he was smarter than everyone else. If it was true, then this story about how he saved Vegas from utter annihtion spoke volumes about his ability to prepare, predict, and manipte the world around him  and he considered it a <em>failure</em>.


    "Given that I had to make do with buggy software, the oue could have been worse," he admitted eventually. "I nearly died as it was. Software glitches set off a cascade of system crashes. I had to take the Lucky 38''s reactor offline, lest it melt down. For nearly five years, I battled power outages and more system crashes until I finally managed to reboot the data core with an older version of the operating system. I spent nearly four decades in a veritablea. But I survived, obviously, and eventually thrived. But enough talk, reliving the past. It''s time to talk about the mission." I cocked an eyebrow.


    "It''s a mission, now?"


    "You can call it a ''job,'' if it makes you feel morefortable. Either way, the next step will require you to infiltrate Caesar''s Camp at Fortification Hill." I was instantly reminded of something Yes Man had told me:


    "<em>There are two locations with non-standard hardware on Mr. House''swork  the Lucky 38 and an underground facility at Fortification Hill, on the Arizona side of Hoover Dam. I''d look there!"</em>


    "You want me to infiltrate Caesar''s Camp." I said, trying to parse his request in my head by repeating it to myself. "Ignoring, for the moment, the utter insanity of trying to sneak into what I can only assume is the heavily fortified base of the biggest ver army anyone in the wastnd has ever seen, what do you want me to do when I get there?"


    "There''s a hatch in the basement of a derelict weather station atop Fortification Hill. I want you to go there, open it, and head inside. You''ll recognize it immediately. The hatch bears the logo of the Lucky 38, same as the tinum Chip."


    "What''s inside the hatch?"


    "Something very important," he said, and I swear, I could almost hear him grinning again. "I wouldn''t want to spoil the surprise. You''ll find out when you get there."


    "So how do I open the hatch? I assume it''s going to be moreplicated than prying it open with a crowbar, or trying to st it open with some explosives."


    "You won''t be able to open it," he said simply. "The hatch was designed using appropriated Vault-Tec designs. Nothing short of a direct hit from a 30-megaton nuclear bomb would so much as chip the paint."


    "But, you just -" House cut me off before I could finish.


    "The Chip can open the doors, however. There is a slot designed for data chips next to the hatch. It will recognize the tinum Chip and ''open sesame."


    "One more question. Assuming I can even get to Fortification Hill, assuming I can get past Caesar and the rest of his army, and assuming the Chip will do what it''s supposed to, and open the doors" I paused. "What''s my stake in all this?"


    "I''m not offering you an incentive as crude as money, although there will be plenty of that, I can assure you. What I''m offering you is a ground-floor opportunity in the most important enterprise on Earth. What I''m offering is a future. For you, and for what remains of the human race."


    The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open soundlessly as I returned to the casino floor of the Lucky 38. Immediately, I heard the sounds ofughing and shouting and a robot beeping.


    "I don''t get it!" I heard Boone raise his voice  the first time I''d ever heard him speak above a growl  when I approached the bar. "How can someone be THAT good at Caravan?" Veronica and Cass wereughing from behind the bar, and Boone was sitting across from them on a bar stool, his rifle leaned against the seat next to him. ED-E was floating around above them.


    "What c''n I say, Imma caravan boss! Y''gotta be good at cards!" Cass thumped her chest with a fist proudly, her cheeks positively flush with red. Several empty bottles and overturned shot sses were lined up on the bar next to her.


    "Hey, there y''are!" Veronica said with a slight slur. "We were startin'' to wonder where you''d gotten off to!"


    "What are you guys doing?" I sat down on a seat next to Boone.


    "Drunken Caravan!" Cass eximed proudly, pulling out a fresh bottle of vodka. "Winner takes a shot! An'' I''ve been winnin'' since y''left!" Boone shook his head and sighed, turning to me.


    "So. What''s the n?" He asked, tossing his cards aside.


    "That''s right!" Veronica eximed, pouring a ss of bourbon. "How''d your talk with House go? Find out anything interesting?" She handed me the drink. I declined.


    "You could say that" I pulled out the stacks of caps, cing them on the bar. Everyone fell silent at the money in front of us all. "House has offered me a job. And if the rest of you want to keep traveling with me, that offer extends to all of you as well. He didn''t give me too many specifics, but" Before I could finish, Boone chimed up.


    "I''m in," was all he said.


    "Me too," Veronica said, raising the ss of bourbon in my general direction, taking a drink. "It''s been fun so far! Whatever y''have in mind should be a st!" When Veronica was finished, Cass looked at me with a smile, and a look of fierce determination that shone through her drunken haze.


    "Y''know y''can count on me," she said, grasping my hand tightly. "This caravan ain''t done travelin'' yet"

 Chapter 12: Circus

    Chapter 12: Circus


    <em>Daniel Wyand and I sat at the bar of the Rawhide Saloon, a pub in Shady Sands. We were sharing a drink andughing about the events of the day. In all honesty, we probably shouldn''t have beenughing - the two of us had both nearly died. But I guessughing about it and drinking booze was helpful for taking the edge off.</em>


    <em>Here''s the long and short of what happened: the two of us had been hired to pick up a package from one of the warehouses on the outskirts of Shady Sands. Of course, neither of us had been told about the other courier. That situation was bad enough, but once that was finally settled and the two of us got to the warehouse, we found the guy who hired us dead, and the warehouse swarming with thugs who worked for the Mordinos - one of the crime families that ran New Reno far to the north. The two of us hightailed it out of there, and finally lost them after they chased us across half the city - shooting at us the whole time.</em>


    <em>"Have you ever done anything so ridiculous?" Dan asked me, taking a drink from his beer. I let out a soft chuckle.</em>


    <em>"Once or twice. Just wait till I tell you about the one time three olddies tried to mug me in Sac Town. I''m still trying to figure that one out," I took a drink, and continued. "I''m just amazed we got out of there alive. There must''ve been a million bullets flying through the air after us!"</em>


    <em>"But I didn''t get out alive," was all he said.</em>


    <em>That was unexpected.</em>


    <em>"What," was all I could manage to say, once I found my voice.</em>


    <em>"Oh, sure, I didn''t die in the warehouse..." he turned to look at me, "... but death has already found me. It''s just going to take him a few years to collect."</em>


    <em>That was when I noticed the gaping hole in his head, where his left eye should''ve been. I could see right through his skull, straight through to the wall beyond. I jumped off my chair as fast as I could and bolted for the door. Corpses shouldn''t talk or get up and move, and the fact that he was doing both scared the piss out of me. As I reached for the doorknob, I heard Wyand yell after me:</em>


    <em>"Death ising for us all. Even you, Courier Six."</em>


    <em>I threw open the door and started running. For some reason, I was in a very, very long hallway. Didn''t this door lead outside a minute ago? It didn''t matter - all I cared about was running away from the talking corpse. The hallway stretched out in front of me so far that I couldn''t see the end. I cast a nce behind me, to see if I was making any forward progress.</em>


    <em>Crash.</em>


    <em>Everything went dark and I saw stars. I must''ve crashed into a wall or something. Wasn''t I running down a hallway? I blinked away the haze, and was confused by where I was. Looking around, I found myself in the main casino floor of The Tops, except there weren''t any gaming tables anywhere. No slot machines, no roulette wheels, no ckjack tables... but there was one other person in the room. He had his back turned to me, but I recognized his ck and white checked jacket instantly.</em>


    <em>"You don''t kill a man when he''s on his knees, begging for his life," Benny said, taking a draw from his cigarette. He didn''t turn around. "That was one of your rules, right?"</em>


    <em>Instinctively, I reached for Roscoe - and panicked, when I realized I didn''t have any weapons on me at all. Even the Pip Boy Doc Mitchell had given me was gone. I looked around, trying to find something... but I paused when I took a look down at my hands. From my elbows down, both hands were covered and positively dripping red with blood. I looked up, trying to make sense of what was going on.</em>


    <em>Benny had turned around to face me... although ''face'' was probably a poor choice of words. He didn''t have a face. It was just a bloody, pulpy mass of meat and bone that was practically concave. I was ovee with an urge to run, and with a mounting sense of horror I became aware that I couldn''t move my legs. But it wasn''t just my legs that I couldn''t move... in that instant, I realized my whole body felt paralyzed.</em>


    <em>"You beat me to death," the bloody mass of what used to be Benny''s face moved around sickeningly as he talked, spraying blood everywhere. For a brief second, I wondered how he was able to talk without a mouth before the fear took root again. "You didn''t even give me a chance to fight back, dig?"</em>


    <em>"You shot me in the face," I said,tching onto the one fact I knew was true in a vain attempt to power through the mind-numbing terror of what was happening. "You shot me in the face, and dumped me in a shallow grave! What did you expect me to do?" Bennyughed - a sound which was deeply unpleasant and sent a shocking chill up my spine - and even more blood sttered out of his face and onto the floor as the meat shifted again.</em>


    <em>"Exactly. I shot you in the face, and you beat me to death. Perfectly justified vengeance... but you had to break one of your rules to do it," Somehow, impossibly, the meat and bone of Benny''s face was sliding around and reforming into an actual face as he spoke. "What is it you always said? If you live without rules in the wastnd, then the horrors and the brutality will beat you down until one day you find you''re no better than a raider, raping and murdering just for the hell of it."</em>


    <em>"I''m no raider!" I yelled at Benny.</em>


    <em>"Of course you''re not. But you know what you are?" As he asked the question, his face finished reforming... but it wasn''t Benny''s face that looked at me.</em>


    <em>"You''re no better than I am."</em>


    <em>I was looking at myself.</em>


    <em>I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to run, but I couldn''t move. I tried to think, but I was too ovee with terror. I barely noticed as the Benny wearing my face pulled Maria out of his jacket. He fired, but not at me. He shot the ground near my feet, and the whole world around me shattered like ss, falling away into an inky ck void. I fell with everything else as the ground dropped out from under me. I couldn''t tell you how long I fell. Time waspletely meaningless... a million years could have passed, for all I knew.</em>


    <em>Time reasserted itself and Inded on my back with a painful, loud thud. I shut my eyes, but it made no difference since the darkness of the world around me had been absolute. When I opened my eyes, I could see a nket of stars... and looming above me, like a massive tombstone, was a familiar water tower. I reached out around me, clutching at low dirt walls.</em>


    <em>I''d fallen into my own grave.</em>


    <em>Before I realized what was happening, I heard a familiar squeaking sound, and Victor rolled into view. I tried to get up, but quicker than I could react, I felt a cold metal w mp down on my face and shove me back against the dirt. The expression on Victor''s face screen was the same as it always was. I tried to yell at him to stop, but the sound was muffled by the w mped down firmly against my head.</em>


    <em>That was when I felt the dirt begin to pile up. A mountain of earth washed over me, burying me... smothering me... I tried to struggle, but there was too much dirt all around me. It was too heavy, and piled far too high. I tried to scream, but the dirt just flooded into my mouth, choking me. Thest thing I saw before I was buried alive was the face of Victor, looking down at me... not saying a word.</em>


    I woke up with a start,pletely drenched in sweat. It took a few minutes for my heart rate to slow to normal, and for my breathing to stop being so ragged. Of course it was a nightmare. Why could I never tell that I was dreaming while I was dreaming?


    I rolled out of bed, trying to focus on where I was to wash away the nightmare. I was in the Lucky 38''s "High-Roller" suite. I remembered that much. Victor had told me that House was going to let us use the suite: "You can bring your friends, too! Be like a little clubhouse for the gang you put together. Enjoy the digs, pardner. They''re plenty fancy!"


    "Plenty fancy" was certainly one way of describing it. The suite took up an entire floor in the Lucky 38. There was arge master bedroom, where I was, at least 6 smaller bedrooms, a bathroom with a shower and what looked like arge bathtub with jets in the side, a fully stocked kitchen and dining room, and another room with a pool table, 2 dart boards, and a jukebox. Everything was absolutely spotless, pristine, and immacte. Every room had te ss floor-to-ceiling windows,plete with sliding doors that led to balconies looking out over Vegas. It was a perfectly preserved slice of the old world, kept clean and fresh from the horrors of the real world for 200 years.


    I looked around the floor, trying to find where I''d discarded my pants before copsing into bed from exhaustion. In the darkness, I bumped into one of the desks, causing my Pip Boy to roll off and hit me in the foot. I let out a few curses and put the wristputer on, checking the time. Then I cursed again when I realized it was three in the morning, and I''d barely gotten two hours of sleep. I knew I wasn''t going to be able to get to sleep for a good long while after a nightmare like that. So I turned on the Pip Boy''s light, found my pants, pulled open the ckout curtains, and exited my room out onto the balcony.


    Even at three in the morning, the city of New Vegas was lit up like a sea of brightly colored neon lights below me. There were still people in the streets below, skittering around like tiny insects. Off in the distance, I could see The Tops; House''s Securitron robots were standing guard at the entrance, dissuading anyone from entering. Looking out at the city below, I didn''t understand how it could still be this lively thiste at night.


    "Trouble sleeping?" a voice to my left made me start. I looked around, and I saw that Boone was on the balcony with me, having presumablye from his room. Despite the darkness, he was still wearing his sunsses. In fact, he still looked ready forbat,plete with his beret on his head and his rifle slung over his shoulder. He was leaning against the railing, looking down at the city with the same dour expression he always had.


    "Yeah... Had a... nightmare. I think," I said, trying to stay away from any details. "What about you? What are you doing up?"


    "I''m just awake, that''s all." When he said it, an odd series of facts hit me like a cinderblock to the skull: when I first met Boone, he was the night watch sniper and I caught him near the beginning of his shift. Then,ter on the next day, he showed up when someone who worked the night shift should have been sleeping, and stayed awake at least until after one in the morning. And here he was, up again.


    "Do you ever sleep?"


    "I sleep enough. I just don''t..." Boone cleared his throat and continued. "I don''t like sleep. Whenever I sleep, I see her."


    "Ca?" I guessed. He nodded grimly.


    "Yeah. Whenever I close my eyes I see..." he paused, like he was searching for the right words. "...thest time she was alive."


    "Isn''t that a good thing?" I asked. He clenched his jaw, and continued to look away from me, down at the city.


    "I know what you''re trying to do," he said, tly. "And don''t get me wrong - I appreciate the thought. I really do. But save your sympathy for someone who deserves it." I shot him a confused look, and was about to ask when he hiked his rifle up his shoulder and continued. "You''re bound to find out for yourself soon enough. I''m not a good person. I''ve done some bad things a lot of bad things. And I''ve got bad thingsing to me, as payment for every one of my sins."


    Boone started to walk away, towards another part of the balcony that ringed the Lucky 38, but before he disappeared around the corner, he turned back to say onest thing.


    "This was only ever going to y out one way. And it won''t end well."


    There was no way I was getting back to sleep. Not for a while, at least. The nightmare had made me restless, and talking with Boone hadn''t helped any. So I grabbed my shirt, a handful of caps, and decided to take a walk around the strip. I left Roscoe and That Gun on the desk in my room, since any of the casinos I entered would just make me hand them over anyway.


    As soon as I stepped out of the elevator onto the casino floor of the Lucky 38, my knee red up, sending a shock of pain up my leg that was really more of an annoyance than anything else. I leaned against the wall, and clutched my throbbing knee, since no one was around to poke fun at my injury.


    "Oh for fuck sake" I groaned out loud.


    "I know you said you were fine earlier, pardner, but you look a right mess, let me tell you," I looked up, and saw that Victor had rolled into view from around the corner. I grunted augh, and shoved myself off the wall and back on my feet, trying to ignore my knee.


    "I''m fine," I said, refusing to look at the robot as I limped on. The image from my nightmare of Victor burying me alive was still fresh in my mind, and even if I now knew he worked for House, it was still hard to bring myself to trust him. "I just have a bullet in my leg, is all." And a bullet below my corbone as well, but that didn''t hurt as much for some reason so I didn''t mention it. Maybe it was because I wasn''t walking on my shoulder...


    "You should probably get that looked at, pardner. I know a few sawbones in town that''ll get you fixed up right quick."


    "I don''t need a doctor, I just need better armor," I said with a cough. I hadn''t really thought about it, but it was true enough. I''d been shot at more in thest few days than in thest few months, and a leather jacket and jeans didn''t seem to do much to stop bullets.


    "Besides," I continued, "what doctors are even open at 3:30 in the morning?" I asked sarcastically.


    "Three... is that what time it is?" Victor asked. I ignored Victor''s apparent inability to tell time, and continued walking to the front door. By the time I reached the entrance, the pain in my leg had faded away.


    "I''ll see you around, Vic," I said waving him off and opening the door without looking back at the robot. "I''m going for a walk."


    I made it halfway down the front steps of the Lucky 38 before I realized everyone on the street ahead had stopped what they were doing and were staring at me. It took my sleep deprived brain a few seconds to realize what was up: I had just left the Lucky 38, a casino of legendary reputation that no living person had entered or exited in over 200 years.


    I ignored them all and started walking down the strip. I caught bits and pieces of conversation as I passed; nothing important, just the gossip of townies and tourists wondering who I was. I thought I heard a few of them mention that they might want to try and get to know me - obviously, since I had been in the Lucky 38, I was someone very important that they should get to know.


    It was at that point I felt an irrational craving for some smokes. Never mind that I didn''t have any cigarettes on me, since Cass and I had sold all the packs we''d found at the Repconn test site for caps. Never mind that I didn''t have a lighter on me or any matches or anything like that. And certainly never mind that I''d given up smoking almost two years ago, and had the willpower to not take up the habit again. Like I said, it was an irrational craving to breathe the fire out of my lungs.


    Instead, I just started walking down the Strip. Walking has always calmed me down for some reason. I don''t know why. I remember when I was younger, I always walked everywhere... well, to be honest, I walked <em>most</em> ces, and ran everywhere else. Specifically, when I was being chased by raiders. Or vers. Or deathws. Of course, ever since I got the Corvega, it seemed like I walked around ces less and less.


    Walking around the Strip, surrounded by a cascade of neon lights assaulting my eyes, I was reminded of thest time I was in New Reno. I''d ended up having insomnia then, too. And then, I ended up walking down Virgin Street; best way I can describe it is Reno''s version of Las Vegas Boulevard. Only smaller. And much less impressive.


    There were dozens of casinos on the Strip, and for some reason I found myself staring up at what had to be the tackiest, most garishly decorated <em>thing</em> I had ever seen, ever, in my entire life. The sign, brightly lit, spinning around, and shing at me with so many different colors that it almost looked white, told me I was standing in front of "Bazooko''s Circus." The sign was held up by yet another neon sign that was at least 20 feet tall... and shaped like a clown. The main part of the building was shaped like a massive red and white striped tent, and the tower behind it had "BAZOOKO" written in big shing red and orange neon letters strapped to the side of the building.


    Bazooko''s Circus wasn''t owned by one of the Three Families, but the presence of Securitron''s so close by dispelled any belief that House was not in control here. As I stared up at the shing multi-colored monstrosity, I felt myself chuckle softly. This was the kind of casino I expected Benny to run, considering how tacky his suit was. I thought this casino matched him perfectly. But, of course, that was before I realized the outside was understatedpared to what it contained.


    "What the hell." I shrugged and walked in the front doors. I''ve seen quite a few odd things during my travels in the wastnd. As I walked into Bazooko''s Circus, it seemed like every single one of those strange, weird things were all gathered together and lumped into one ce. Except it felt like I was looking at them through a wavy funhouse mirror, whilepletely drunk.


    There were things you''d expect in a casino, sure - ckjack tables, craps tables, at least one giant roulette wheel, slot machines every five feet; but all the dealers and cocktail waitresses in short skirts and ample cleavage were dressed up in makeup, and colorful wigs and hats, and outfits with every single color. The multicolored patterns in the carpet appeared to move and swirl beneath my feet with a power all their own. It was quite disorienting.


    Everywhere I went there were kiosks set into the wall, decorated with garish colors - radioactive greens, toxic oranges, bright vomit inducing pinks and purples... Somehow, the colors all seemed to glow, and anything white seemed to glow even brighter with a strange purple tint. Maybe I was just sleep deprived, and seeing things.


    Most of the kiosks were closed up, but it looked like they would''ve housed games if they were open - target games mostly, where you''d have to hit tes with an air rifle, or knock down bottles with a baseball, or throw darts. But a few were different - the fortune teller, someone who swallowed swords, and one that boasted a "live" target you could throw knives at. I tried not to think about thatst one too hard. Above everything was a, and even though all the spotlights were turned off and it was empty, I could see a thin tightrope up near the ceiling, and several trapezes hung from the ceiling by ropes.


    Frankly, I was amazed at how many people were still awake at this hour. The casino wasn''t full - not by a longshot - but there was not an inconsiderable amount of people still in the casino, still throwing their money away, still ying cards, still trying to outwit the one-armed bandits that refused to give them a row of sevens.


    Who were these people? These faces sticking out of the darkness? Most of them looked alive, but only just. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but they almost looked like walking cartoons, hideous and warped by the promise of riches only to have their hopes and dreams sucked out of them after being here for so long. They didn''t look real.


    And bloody hell, there certainly were a lot of them around at 4 o''clock on a Saturday morning.


    After walking around the casino for a while, I ended uping to a stop in front of a bar. The sign above it read "Carousel of Dreams"... except it didn''t, because someone had spray painted over the sign so it actually read "CarousHELL of Dreams." I''d seen this kind of merry-go-round looking thing twice before: once, in a holotape movie from before the war, and another at the remains of a county fair somewhere in the ruins of Vacaville, a small town in California that hadn''t beenpletely annihted by the bombs. Unlike that carousel, this one didn''t have any skeletons, but the paint was somehow faded and glowing at the same time.


    The outer edges of the bar were rotating around the center, and the walls had statues of small multicolored technicolor horses held in ce with rusty golden poles. Some of the horses had wings, and some had horns on their heads. I''d never seen a horse with wings or horns... but, to be honest, I''d never actually seen a horse either. I''d heard stories about horses surviving the war in remote ces like Utah or Wyoming, but I''d never actually seen any - mutants or otherwise.


    I stepped on the rotating portion of the bar, and was nearly knocked off my feet; it was moving a lot faster than I thought. I grabbed the pole of one of the horses to help keep my bnce. Eventually, I got the hang of it, and was able to make my way past all the tables on the rotating portion, and onto the stationary center part of the bar. When I sat down at one of the stools, the bartender approached... and I did a double take, just to make sure I was really seeing what I thought I was seeing. I was wrong - apparently this carousel did have a skeleton.


    The bartender was a ghoul, the smell made that much obvious. He had painted his face like everyone else working in the casino, but he''d only used ck and white makeup, and painted his face to resemble a stylized skull with ck surrouding his eyes and ck lines over his mouth. He wore a shabby ck top hat, a tattered white shirt with a crooked ck bow tie around his neck, and a pair of ck gloves that had white bones painted on the tops. It was certainly more macabre and a lot less colorful than the other outfits I''d seen in this circus.


    "What can I getcha?" the bartender asked in that gravelly, raspy voice all ghouls seemed to have. He was wiping down a ss in his gloved hands as he spoke.


    "Got any good pick-me-ups?" I asked, but quickly added "Preferably, something with caffeine rather than alcohol."


    "Heh," the ghoul let out a gutturalugh, putting the ss away on the counter behind him. "Let me guess - nightmares?" I nodded, and the ghoul continued. "Yeah, that''s one of the benefits to being mostly-dead. I don''t have to sleep if I don''t want to."


    "So, does that mean you have something?" I asked, hopefully.


    "Yeah, I got something I think''ll work," he reached beneath the counter, and continued to talk as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for. "It''s called ''Wake-Up-Juice.'' I learned the recipe from a friend of mine about a century ago."


    He pulled out a number of bottles, and not all of them contained... liquid: I saw a half-full bottle of Nuka C Quantum with a rubber stopper in the top (I could tell what it was because it glowed blue), a drink mixer in the shape of a rocket that had the words "Atomic Cocktail" written on the side (it glowed a radioactive green in the light), a jar full of chili paste, a jar full of green olives suspended in their own juices, a bottle of hot sauce, a shaker with "cayenne" written on the side, a tin of Fixer pills, and an unmarked vial with a clear liquid that had an eyedropper for a lid.


    I just sort of sat there - half in fear, half in curiosity - just watching in awe as he created this monstrosity. He put bits of everything into a tall shot ss, even crushing up the Fixer and mixing the powder into the drink with the sharp end of a knife. When he got to the unmarked vial, I finally spoke up.


    "What in the hell is that, and why''d you only put three drops in? You put in more hot sauce than that!"


    "This is the special ingredient," he said, carefully screwing the dropper-top back on the vial. "Epinephrine. It''s artificial adrenaline." He slid the drink across the bar towards me, and smirked with a smile that showed way too many yellow teeth. "Here ya go, drink up. This''ll keep you awake for as long as you want. That''ll be 25 caps."


    I eyed the drink with suspicion, but tossed my caps on the bar anyway. I lifted the tall shot ss up to my nose and immediately wished I hadn''t; my eyes started to burn.


    "Fuck it," I said, holding my nose. "Down the hatch," and swallowed it in one gulp.


    That was all it took. I coughed furiously as it burned down my throat, but the world immediately shot into stark focus. In an instant I felt more awake and more alive than I''d ever felt before, but at the same time everything was spinning wildly out of control. I vaguely recall hearing my Pip Boy''s Geiger counter clickety-click a few times.


    "Good, isn''t it?" I heard the ghoul say. The room stopped spinning, and the world righted itself just in time for me to see him pass a ss of water my way. I grabbed it, and downed the water greedily.


    "It does the job," I managed to cough out with a smile after I finished the ss. "But I wouldn''t call it good. Not by a longshot."


    "Eh, Joey wouldn''t know a good drink if it bit his rotten ass off," I heard a high pitched voice say from next to me. I looked around, trying to find the source of the voice.


    "Down here, jackass," I heard the voice say at the same time I felt someone pull on my left pant leg. So I looked down and to my left, and there was a very tiny man, wearing a very unpleasant and dour expression on his face. He was all dressed up like a clown -plete with a red ball nose - and carrying a tray in one of his hands.


    "Could you move? You''re in my way," he said. So I got up, more in confusion than anything else. He reached onto a handle on the bar next to where my leg had been, pulling out a set of steps that let him climb to the top.


    "How''re you doin'', Seamus?" Joey the ghoul bartender asked the tiny clown with the drinks tray. "Still angry at the world, I take it?"


    "Piss off," he said to the ghoul.


    "Aw," Joey said with augh. "You do care!"


    "Table three needs a bottle of wine, and table six needs a trio of wastnd tequ shots."


    "Got it. Half a sec," and Joey disappeared around the other side of the bar. Seamus sighed, removing the red ball from his nose and stretching his jaw.


    "I hate this ce," he said with so much bile, it was almost palpable.


    "It''s not that bad," I heard another voice from my right speak up. I looked around, and saw a rather hefty looking bald man sitting two stools away from me. "Hey Joey, when you''re finished with those drinks, can I get a ss of Absinthe?"


    Joey came back around with the drinks for the tiny clown, and all Seamus could do wasugh bitterly. "You know, it''s a hell of a thing," Seamus said to me as he put his nose back on. "When he was a kid and living in Vault 21, the owner of this shithole always wanted to leave the vault and join the circus. Now the son of a bitch owns the circus."


    "Don''t mind Seamus," the rotund man nearby said to me as I watched the tiny unpleasant man climb down the steps and walk off. "He''s always like that."


    "So... you''ve seen him before then, I take it?" I asked.


    "I ought to, I work here," he said just as Joey set down a ss full of green colored liquid in front of him. He thanked the ghoul, and then reached for the ss - but not with either of his hands at his sides. A third hand, with only three fingers, emerged from the folds in his coat and clutched the ss, sipping gingerly at the green liquid.


    Apparently, I had failed to contain my shock, because he looked at me with a face approaching amusement and set his ss down.


    "Before you ask, yes, it''s real," As if to emphasize the point, he waved at me with his three fingered hand and said "Hello. My name''s Eddie."


    "Uh... hi. I''m Sheason. You said you work here?"


    "Yeah, I''m part of the Freak Show. Every circus has gotta have a freak show, right? Honestly, I think I''m kinda lucky."


    "Lucky?" I asked. "How do ya figure?"


    "Well, y''see, I look at it like this. Most people, when they''re exposed to massive amounts of radiation, they just get sick and die in a pool of their own vomit. Then, some people, like this handsome chap here," he motioned to the ghoul, who justughed, "they turn into ghouls. And then there''s the one''s like me - the mutants. It''s not all bad. The third arm helped mend a job here on the Strip. It''s steady work with a steady paycheck. Besides, with the exception of Seamus, all the people here are really nice, so I can''tin."


    "Freak show..." I repeated, trying to wrap my head around the concept.


    "Yeah. What, you''ve never been to a freak show?" I shook my head. "It''s an experience, let me tell you right now."


    "So... forgive me for asking, but are they all... er, mutants like you?" Eddie shook his head, and took another sip.


    "Not all of them. I mean, yeah, Mean Sonofabitch was technically a Super Mutant. He was a freak because he was ''tame'' and he''d had his tongue cut out, but he doesn''t work here anymore. He left about a year ago. Last I heard he found work as a bodyguard somewhere out in Westside. But there are some normals in the freak show as well - like the guys who ''eat'' swords and fire and stuff. And then there''s the people who are just born freaks, rather than the radiation mutants. Like Denise, the Yak Woman."


    "Yak Woman." I deadpanned.


    "Yeah. She''s a sweet gal. Ugly as sin, I admit - got a pair of horns growing out of her head - but she''s a hell of a good cook. And then there''s the Red Menace. They''re a pair of Chinese conjoined twins who came down from Chinatown a few years ago, so they got that going for them. But they pull double duty because they''re both bodybuilders too, so they take on the strongman act as well."


    "And that''s a freak show? What, do people juste to stare at you then? I mean, no offense, but that''s kind of what it sounds like." Eddie shrugged.


    "I''ll be honest, most peoplee just to look at crazy sights and not have to worry about getting shot at. But really... a freak show is beautiful. It''s a showcase of man''s heroic triumph over medical adversity and extreme pessimism." Heughed, and took another sip of his drink.


    "I think you''re talkin'' out of your ass Eddie," The ghoul said with a smile. Eddie shook his head and waved his third hand.


    "Nah, that''s not me. Vince is the guy who talks out of his ass." He turned to me with a smile and said "Now that''s something to see, let me tell you."


    It was about an hourter when I stepped out of Bazooko''s Circus. The inky ckness of night was starting to turn just a hint of royal blue. The air on the strip smelled of smoke, and... grilled meat, for some reason. I took onest look up at what was possibly the strangest casino in the entire world, and just felt myself start tough. Just a chuckle at first, but then I couldn''t restrain myself and I busted outughing raucously. I walked away from the circus, and said out loud, to no one but myself:


    "When the fuck did my life be so weird?"

 Chapter 13: Smiling Sad

    Chapter 13: Smiling Sad


    <em>Good morning, to everyone out there in the Mojave Wastnd! You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, and I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas. I''ve just received a news story, and I''ll be honest listeners... this one is a bit strange. Apparently, several unidentified aircraft were spotted flying over the REPCONN Test Site yesterday by a local crackpot living in Novac. He spoke to a toy bear near one of our microphones: "It''s ghouls, I tell you! Religious ghouls in space rockets, looking for and to call their own! Don''t youugh at me! I know a spell that''ll make you show your true form - a cave rat taught it to me!" This part of the program has been brought to you by the Triple Seven Hotel and Casino: Your lucky number is always Triple Seven. Coming to you next on the airwaves is a personal favorite song of mine. It''s Peggy Lee singing that ssic song, Why Don''t You Do Right?</em>


    When I got back to the suite at the Lucky 38, I was stillpletely wired from the "Wake-Up-Juice." It had been several hours, and I was amazed at how alert I still felt. I checked the time on my Pip Boy - it was just after nine thirty in the morning. So, to help pass the time until mypanions were up, I decided to do something that I hadn''t done in a very long time.


    Take a shower.


    Making a big deal out of taking a shower may seem like a very odd thing to do, but keep in mind: even though it''s been over 200 years since the apocalypse, most water sources you''ll find are filthy, poisonous, irradiated pools of muddy sludge. Out in the wastnd, any water clean and pure enough to drink is too precious to waste on hygiene. Even in the cities of the New California Republic, fresh water is just as scarce. Most of the clean water owned by the NCR is used to grow crops, and everything else is rationed as drinking water. As far as I know, the only ce in the NCR with enough clean water to go around so people can bathe on a regr basis is the capital city of Shady Sands.


    That''s why the NCR is so dead set on controlling Hoover Dam: whoever controls the dam has ess to Lake Mead, the greatest source of non-irradiated fresh water still in the wastnd. But the Lucky 38 - at least, ording to Victor - has its own water purification facilities and reservoir beneath the casino. It was just one of many... things House had installed under his hotel-casino-fortress to make it almost self-sufficient before the bombs fell. Part of me was curious as to what else House had hidden away in the Lucky 38, but another part insisted that I didn''t want to know.


    The shower was more refreshing and more rxing than anything I''d experienced in recent memory. I felt muscles that I had forgotten I had loosen up and rx for the first time in years. As the water ran through my hair and over me, it felt like years of dirt and grime and filth and blood were literally washing away. I stayed in the shower for a good long while after I felt cleaner than I had in years, and I''m not ashamed to admit that I gulped down several mouthfuls of water before I turned the faucet off. I didn''t want to waste any more water than I had to... old habits, I guess.


    After drying off, I picked up my shirt off the floor, andughed grimly when I finally got a good look at it. Apparently, I had been walking around Vegas all night in a shirt stained with my own dried blood. I stuck a finger through the hole in the right shoulder, wondering how I''d missed something so obvious for so long. So I took it over to the sink, and tried to wash away at least a little of the blood, but no dice. The blood and dirt had been caked on my shirt all night, so that all it did was turn the water a reddish-brown and make my shirt soggy.


    I hung my wet shirt on the towel rack behind me to give it some time to dry out, and turned to look at myself in the mirror above the sink. The wounds on my right shoulder and upper left arm were mended, but still visible. They weren''t the only scars on my body, but they did stand out the most, since the skin was still pink where the muscle and tissues had been regrown. My hair was mostly dry, but still damp enough that it was matted and most of it clung to me. I ran my fingers through my hair to get it out of my face, and took a good, long look at my beard.


    "I need a shave," I said aloud. I looked around the sink, and my eyes fell on a jar of shaving cream and a straight razor. Five minutes of very careful shavingter, my face waspletely beard free... and immediately, I wished I hadn''t bothered. The bullet scar that shed across my right cheek was healed, but it was still deep, and still very visible. It wasn''t quite the sgow Smile I thought it was when I first got a look at it a few days ago, but it was still pretty gruesome.


    When I finally got dressed and stepped out of the bathroom, I was greeted by the sight of a floating eyebot hovering right in front of me, directly at eye level.


    "Hey there, ED-E," I said to the floating robot. "So, where have you been all night?" The floating robot bobbed to the left, let out two beeps, then bobbed to the right, and let out two more beeps.


    "Just here and there?" I must''ve been right with what was (honestly) just a guess, because ED-E bobbed up and down in the air like someone nodding their head, and beeped happily.


    "Yeah, me too. Spent thest few hours just wandering around the Strip. Maybe you cane with me next time," Somehow, I just knew that my problems with insomnia weren''t finished. ED-E beeped happily at the offer. At that moment, I heard Veronica''s voice and several odd noisesing from the kitchen that caught my attention.


    "Don''t you worry about a thing, Cass! One sip of this, and you''ll be as sober as a Brotherhood Pdin on Sunday," Veronica said. I heard Cass grumble and mutter something incoherent back at her. I walked in, ED-E floating behind me, and saw Cass sitting at the kitchen table with an ice pack pressed against her head. Her jacket, hat, and shotgun were nowhere to be found and her red hair was loose and untied. Veronica on the other hand was standing at the counter and stirring a bubbling and boiling mixture in a pot on the cook top. She turned to me with a smile.


    "Morning! No longer Grizzly Adams, huh? You look good." She said, beaming. I didn''t believe a word of it. "Did you sleep well?"


    "Not really," I deadpanned. "What about you? You seem awfully chipper."


    "Bothaya, shuddup," Cass grumbled, lowering her head to the table with a clunk. "Ow..."


    "I had a great night sleep!" She said, ignoring Cass and continuing to stir the mixture in the pot. "The beds here are a lot softer than the cots in the Brotherhood Citadels I''ve lived in, and they''re a hell of a lot better than anything I''ve found in the wastes."


    "So, what are you up to?" I asked, honestly curious. "Making breakfast?" I was hoping against that - what she was stirring both looked and smelled vile.


    "Sort of. Cass had a tiny bit too much to drinkst night, so I''m making a batch of the patented Brotherhood Scribe Hangover Cure to clear her head." I took a look over her shoulder to get a better look at what she was stirring. It was green, it smelled positively rank, and judging by the egg shells discarded nearby, there were Gecko eggs in the mixture.


    "Fuggov," Cass'' words were somewhat muffled by her mouth pressed against the table. "Ahm f''ne, jus shuddup, n''leave m''alone..."


    "So, the Brotherhood has a hangover cure?" I asked. That was a bit surprising, to be honest - I''d always thought of the Brotherhood of Steel as pious religious monks, and the kind of excessive drinking that required a hangover cure didn''t seem to mesh with that image.


    "Of course we do," Veronica said as she turned off the stove and started pouring the foul smelling mixture into a ss. "Just because the Elders and Pdins have to keep up appearances doesn''t mean the rest of us don''t know how to party." I chuckled, and took a look at Cass, who was clutching the ice pack to her head tightly, and trying to cover her ears.


    "Frankly, I''m amazed she got drunk at all. She knocks back whiskey like it''s water."


    "Maybe, but I think drinking three bottles of 200 year old scotch in under an hour and a half will knock anybody on their ass, no matter how much they''re used to drinking," Veronica did her best to coax some semnce of life back into Cass.


    "I take it back," I said, watching the two of them. "I''m amazed she''s not <strong>dead</strong>."


    "M''livers ind''structble," Cass boasted, patting her gut with a fist for emphasis. When Veronica offered the hangover cure, Cass screwed her face up and shoved it away. "Dunwanna."


    "I know it looks disgusting, but drinking this will help your head. Trust me," Cass just growled, and continued to refuse, but Veronica wasn''t going to let her go that easily. "Ok, that''s how you want to do this? Fine... either you drink it, or I make you. And I can think of a few very... <em>creative</em> ways to distract you."


    Veronica smiled wider than a cat, and fluttered her eyshes. Cass'' eyes shot wide open and her cheeks flushed brightly red. She looked at Veronica, back at the hangover cure, and then back to Veronica. Gingerly, she grabbed the ss and started to sip... and then Veronica put two fingers on the bottom of the ss and tipped it up, forcing her to keep drinking. Cass nearly gagged, but she eventually drank it all, and Veronica slid her a ss of water across the table as a reward. She drank the water with considerably more enthusiasm.


    "Atta girl, you''ll be right as rain in no time," Veronica said, patting Cass on the shoulder.


    "Augh!" Cass stuck her tongue out and gagged after she finished her water. "That was disgusting! I can''t get the taste off my tongue!"


    "Well, that''s how you know it''s a good hangover cure. The best hangover cures, like the hangovers themselves, are so disgusting that they make you never want to drink that much ever again." Veronica leaned against a nearby chair, turned to look at me, and said "So,st night we shot up a casino, took out one of the heads of the Three Families, and then got hired by the most powerful man in Vegas. What''s the n for today? Get in a fist-fight with a deathw? Find a vertibird and skydive out of it? Give a Super Mutant a wedgie?" I couldn''t help but chuckle.


    "You know, I''m not really sure," I said, shrugging. "That... job he''s hired me, er, us for, it''s going to take a serious load of nning to pull off. It''s not something we''ll be able to do today. One the plus side, I don''t think it''s too time sensitive, so we''ll have plenty of time to prepare."


    "You still haven''t told us what it is yet, you know?" Veronica said, pulling up a chair.


    "Yeah, I know," I said. "It''s gonna be tricky, that''s the important thing. And like I said, I don''t think we''re on the clock. Not yet, anyway. As for what to do today, I was thinking that I might make good on that promise to check out the other sacked caravan. What do you say, Cass? Feeling up for it?" I figured I already knew the answer, but no harm in asking, right?


    "Fuck that," Cass said, slightly more coherent, but no less hoarse than before. "It can wait a day''r two. I just wanna go back to bed."


    "Well, that answers that."


    "What about your leg?" Veronica said, pointing to my knee.


    "What about it?"


    "Oh, c''mon. I saw the blood, I saw the bullet hole in your jeans, and you were limping everywherest night. Doesn''t take a brainbox to figure out you''re suffering from lead poisoning. Aren''t you going to do something about it? Maybe see to getting that metal slug removed?"


    "Yeah... I suppose that''s a good idea," I said, biting back a cough. "But I don''t exactly know where I can go to get medical treatment around here."


    "You''re in luck," Veronica said, rocking in her chair with a smug smile on her face. "I know of a ce where you can get some medical treatment: the Old Mormon Fort, where the Followers of the Apocalypse have set up shop. It''s in Freeside, and I can show you the way, if you want."


    I considered that for a moment. There was something scratching in the back of my mind that told me Veronica had an ulterior motive for wanting to go there, and wasn''t just offering to show me the way out of the kindness of her heart. But on the other hand, even I had to admit that the sooner I got the bullet out from behind my knee, the better. Not to mention the bullet in my shoulder.


    "Works for me," I said.


    Roughly 15 minutester, Veronica and I were walking past the Strip''s front gate and back into Freeside, ED-E floating close behind. Las Vegas Boulevard was full of people walking or standing around, and everyone somehow managed to simultaneously cluster together in groups and keep their distance from one another. Frankly, I was surprised at the sheer number of people around - had there been this manyst night? I honestly couldn''t remember. I must have been too blinded by vengeance to notice.


    I sighed inwardly at the thought. I wondered how much else I''d missed on my self righteous quest for revenge. Yeah, I''d been sessful. I''d killed the man who put me in the ground. I''d retrieved the tinum Chip. And now, I was, technically, in the employ of House, with promises of riches and power beyond the dreams of avarice. But despite that, killing Benny hadn''t left me feeling fulfilled in any way... hell, it didn''t even make me happy. All it had done was make me feel hollow and empty inside - my nightmare had been proof enough of that.


    I needed a distraction. That much was certain. And lucky for me, I had a mobile distraction walking right next to me.


    "So," I said to Veronica, "what''s going between you and Cass?" Veronica tried to hide a blush, and let out a small chuckle.


    "Whatever do you mean?" She said, in a faux-innocent voice. ED-E let out a series of beeps that I could swear sounded like augh.


    "I''m just wondering if anything came out of all your shameless flirtingst night, is all."


    "I was that obvious, huh?" I nodded, and Veronica snapped her fingers. "Damn, and here I thought I was being subtle... no, nothing happened. I doubt anything will, to be honest. She''s a nice girl, but I don''t think I''m her type. So why are you being so nosy?"


    "Call me curious," I said with a shrug.


    "Sure thing, curious." She smirked from beneath her robe''s hood. "But seriously, though. Why are you interested?"


    "Because, as far as I can tell, the four of us are going to be working and travelling together for the foreseeable future. And I''d rather things not get awkward between anyone. That make sense?"


    "Yeah, that makes sense," she said with a nod. "Like I said before, I don''t think I''m her type. Course, that still won''t keep me from flirting with her. You have no idea how amazingly fun she is to tease!"


    I just sighed and shook my head as the two of us continued down the road, ED-E floating in the air beside us.


    "Ok, so you''re not her type. What about you? Do you have a type?" I asked, and then added quickly "I figure, the least I can do is keep an eye out for you."


    "My type is a leggy brte who enjoys long walks in the desert, candlelit metal workshops, and midnight sparring sessions," she said almost immediately. My head perked up as I tried to conjure up a metal image of the kind of girl she described.


    "That''s... oddly specific," I said.


    "What can I say, I know what I like," she replied with a shrug. I didn''t buy it. Unsurprising, really: I hadn''t known her all that long, but she was bing incredibly easy to read. From the tone of her voice and her bodynguage, she was hiding something, and thest time she deflected like this was when she was trying to hide her association with the Brotherhood of Steel.


    "No, it''s not just that... there''s a story here, isn''t there?" I asked, regarding her much more carefully now. She looked away, and her ever present smile, while still there, seemed to fade just slightly as she spoke.


    "It... it was a long time ago. I was pretty young."


    "You''re still pretty young," I countered with a smirk.


    "Shut up! I''m trying to be serious here," She stayed silent for a minute or two, as if she was trying to pluck the right words from the air. Finally, she asked me "Have you ever been in love?"


    Oh wow. Was THAT a loaded question. How the hell should I answer that? Should I be honest, and tell her the truth? Hell, that was a long story in and of itself, and for all I knew, the story she wanted to tell me was just as long, if not longer. Should I deflect, like she seemed to like to do? Would she be able to tell that I was deflecting, since I really didn''t want to talk about it? Should I just t out deny it? Would she be able to tell I was lying through my teeth if I denied it?


    Then I realized, I was thinking about this way too much. I''m not the type to spill an encyclopedia''s content of my personal history at the slightest provocation anyway.


    "Yeah," I finally admitted, trying to sound as nomittal as possible, and then very quickly added "Why?"


    "Well, because... I was in love, once. She and I were both young, but... I mean, I''d like to think it was love." She sounded nostalgic as she spoke, but my mind caught hold of the ''was'' and wouldn''t let go.


    "Was, huh?" I asked. "So what happened?"


    "Her parents happened," I cocked an eyebrow. I didn''t quite understand, so I motioned for her to continue.


    "The Brotherhood of Steel doesn''t take on new members... not really," Veronica said, sounding almost like she was quoting directly from a Brotherhood book of bws and regtions. "For the most part, nearly everyone can trace their lineage back to the original soldiers and civilians who left the US Army in The Exodus after the bombs fell."


    "The US Army?" I asked. I''d never heard that before. She nodded in response.


    "Yeah. It''s a bitplicated, I know, since the Brotherhood has styled itself on the armored knights of ancient times, but the discipline and structure is all very old world military. And like I said, most of us can trace our roots because we don''t take on new members. And that means a lot of members think that obligates all of us to procreate."


    I could see exactly where this story was going.


    "And her parents couldn''t ept that their daughter was gay."


    "It wasn''t just them," Veronica said. "Our Chapter Elder, Father Elijah... he wasn''t exactly supportive on my end, either. I admit, having your mentor tell you your interest in women is ''just a disgusting, unnatural, childish phase that you''ll grow out of'' stings for quite a while, to say the least. So, she left the Brotherhood the first chance she got."


    "What about your parents?" I asked.


    "They..." she paused, and rubbed the back of her neck (or, she rubbed the back of her hood where her neck was underneath). "My parents never found out, actually. They died a long time ago, in the same battle trying to hold off the NCR from... something." She let out a short, sad sigh. "I don''t remember what it was. Guess it seemed important at the time."


    "Didn''t you want to go with her when she left?" I asked. I couldn''t imagine why she''d want to stay if her parents were dead - she wouldn''t have anything left keeping her there. She was quiet for a few minutes, not answering right away. Finally, she spoke up.


    "No. I couldn''t bring myself to leave everyone behind. I know it sounds stupid, and like I was trading happiness for living in a bad ce with bad people, but despite it all the Brotherhood is my family. Even if most of them don''t... can''t ept who I am. You see, after my parents passed, Father Elijah looked after me. The whole Brotherhood brought me up, really, but he made sure of it. Still... I couldn''t convince her to stay. I had hoped that love would influence her decision, but... we were both too stubborn. And she was always just so driven. In hindsight, it''s... actually kind of funny. One of the best things about her, and one of the things that attracted me to her, making me fall in love with her in the first ce... it''s the very thing that kept us apart."


    She hid her face from me, but I didn''t need to see. I could tell from her words, from her voice, and from her bodynguage that she was holding back tears. Suddenly, and without warning, words shed across my mind: the words of the boy at the 188.


    <em>"With regretes a girl smiling sad...</em><em>wraps her and her heart up like a pack..."</em>


    Sheposed herself quickly, and turned back to me. Her ever present smile was spread wide across her face... but now I wasn''t sure I''d ever seen a real smile. I''m amazed I hadn''t picked up on it before, but now I finally saw her smile for what it really was: a mask. It was a way for her to hide what she was really feeling. A way for her to deal, day to day, with the harsh realities of the world and all of the pain in her heart that she would never be rid of.


    "I don''t know where she is now," she said, looking away and up towards the sky. "... but I''m sure she''s moved on. I still think about her, though... once in a while..."


    "What was her name?" I asked, genuinely curious. I knew it didn''t really matter, but it felt like asking was the right thing to do.


    "Christine."

 Chapter 14: Nothing New Under The Sun

    Chapter 14: Nothing New Under The Sun


    <em>Wee back to the Mr. New Vegas show. Breaking news: The Tops Hotel and Casino is currently and unexpectedly closed to the public. Mr. House''s Securitrons have been seen stationed at the front of the casino, denying entrance to everyone attempting to enter the casino. Neither the owner of The Tops, Benny, or his right hand man, Swank, could be reached forment. A Securitron speaking on behalf of Mr. House indicated that this is part of an ongoing attempt to remodel and revitalize aging areas of The Strip, and this is nothing to worry about. The news this hour has been brought to you by the Atomic Wrangler: Wrangle yourself some cold drinks and steamy fun tonight. Coming up next is Vera Keys, singing that ssic pre-war song Begin Again.</em>


    The Old Mormon Fort wasn''t like anything else in Freeside. Most of the buildings in Freeside were old, but they looked like they could''ve been new when the bombs fell. The fort, on the other hand, was old in a sense that I can''t even truly fathom. Despite the name, the fort didn''t really have any serious fortifications. The only defense I could see was a decently high wall - maybe 14, 15 feet high? - that looked like they were made from the same sand-y-sticks-mud material as the adobe buildings I''d seen in Arroyo years ago. Which made sense, when I saw the sign out front: apparently the "Old Las Vegas Mormon Historical Park" had been built in 1855. 426 years ago... I couldn''t even imagine that far back.


    Inside the wooden gates was arge courtyard, ringed by row after row of tents. Most of the tents were open, and I could see dozens of people either lying on cots, milling about talking to one another, or sitting at tables, talking to one another, eating, drinking, and who knows what else. A fourth of the people I could see walking around were wearing white coats, and looked like doctors. There were half a dozen other people around carrying guns - guards, most likely. All around the tents were crates, piled on top of one another, and barrels with "H2O" spray painted on the side. Most of the barrels looked empty.


    In the center of the courtyard was a ring of sandbags, surrounding a metal gpole. At the top of the gpole the g of the Followers of the Apocalypse was flying. The g was very simple: it was a white g, and in the center was a pronged, ck cross, with a ck disk sitting off center connecting the prongs. The whole image was surrounded by a ck ring. All the doctors I saw wearing thebcoats had a patch with the symbol sewn onto the shoulders of their coats.


    "So, this is the Old Mormon Fort?" I asked, turning to Veronica. She was still looking up at the g.


    "I guess so," she replied, nodding.


    "It''s kind of ironic, if you think about it."


    "Huh?" She turned to look at me with a quizzical look. Even ED-E seemed to turn and look at me.


    "Well, the first time I met members of the Followers was at their headquarters in the Boneyard. When I asked what they were all about, they told me that they reject things like gods and religion and supernatural mystical hocus-pocus nonsense like that, focusing on things like science and medicine, knowledge, reason, morals, ethics, etc. But where do they set up shop here in the Mojave? A ce with an old world religion right in the name." I heard Veronica try to stifle a chuckle under her breath; ED-E, on the other hand, let loose a series of harsh beeps that definitely sounded likeughter.


    "Yeah," Veronica said, finally letting a fewughs escape, "I guess that is kinda funny."


    As the three of usughed, one of the doctors approached us. I couldn''t immediately tell how old she was, but that was because my attention was drawn away from her face. The sides of her head were shaved almostpletely bald, and the only real hair to speak of - and you could, trust me - was a bright, almost unnatural orange, that stood straight up in a very, very pointy Mohawk.


    "Hello there," she spoke in a kind, gentle voice that made me realize I was staring, and shook me out of it. "My name is Julie Farkas. Are you here to drop off medical supplies?"


    A twinge started to form in the pit of my stomach... a sensation that had be all too familiar thest few days.


    "No... I''m actually here because I have a bullet lodged in my leg and I''d like to get rid of it," I said, patting my left knee with a grimace. "So, does that mean you don''t have any medical supplies? Or do you just need more?"


    "We always need more," she said with a sigh. "Things are awful in Freeside, and we need all the help we can get to give aid and shelter to those who need it. And I''m sorry... but I have good news and bad news."


    "Give me the bad news first," I sighed, trying to ignore the throbbing in my temple where Benny shot me. "Might as well get it over with."


    "We can''t really help with your injury here. The fort acts as the administrative headquarters for the Mojave detachment of the Followers, a free clinic offering basic medical treatment, and a halfway house for the destitute and those in the most dire need, but we''re not really equipped for any kind of surgery, invasive or otherwise."


    I frowned, and resisted the urge to let out a string of incredibly vulgar profanity. I thought Veronica said I could get medical treatment here? This was starting to look like a long walk for nothing.


    "But the good news," Julie continued, "is that I know where you can get patched up. A close friend of mine and another member of the Followers, Dr. Usanagi, has set up a medical clinic outside of Freeside, about a mile and a half east of the Crimson Caravan''s headquarters. She''ll be able to help you with anything you need, from surgery to remove a bullet to cybeic imnts."


    "If she''s so good," I asked, scratching the back of my head "why isn''t she set up here? I mean, you look like you have enough space."


    "Because she''s forced to charge for her services. The Auto-Docs that assist her in medical operations are incredibly difficult to maintain and run, not to mention expensive. This is a free clinic - having a doctor who charges for medical treatment here... it wouldn''t be smart." I had to admit, in a way that made sense, and the fact that Usanagi had Auto-Docs was definitely promising. By the time those old world machines were done with me, my knee would probably feel better than new.


    I was about to ask her for more specific directions, when Veronica spoke up. She had been listening in and looking around the fort while Julie and I had been talking.


    "Are things really that rough here in Freeside?" she asked.


    "More than rough," Julie said, shaking her head with a sigh. "It''s a damn mess." There was something in the tone of her voice... she sounded desperate. And tired. And then I got that feeling in the back of my skull - the one that made the logical, pragmatic part of my brain start yelling at me.


    Don''t do it. Don''t you dare do it.


    "Freeside townies are constantly picking fights with NCR civilians," she continued. "Thugs and thieves are always looking for a fresh victim, and the local families are just sitting back making caps on the mess."


    Don''t do it, I just kept thinking. This isn''t your fight.


    "The Followers can only do so much to stem the tide. Freeside is in dire need, but no one has been man enough to step up."


    Damnit all!


    "Is... is there anything I can do to help?" I eventually heard myself say. Her expression brightened, and she smiled at me.


    "There''s always something that needs to be done. The most important thing would be organizing a regr supply of medicine to the fort. Unfortunately, the Crimson Caravan wants too many caps for what we need. There''s also been a lot of tensions brewing between the townies and NCR squatters, like I said before. I''ve tried talking to The King, but if someone doesn''t do something to calm tensions soon, I''m afraid a lot of innocent people are going to get hurt. Of course, I also know a few people who could be great assets to themunity, if only they''d kick their addictions."


    As soon as she mentioned the addicts, both sides of my brain shut up.


    "Wait," I said. "What was that about addicts?"


    "Freeside is full of addicts, but there are two in particr who I think we can help, and who could definitely help themunity in turn once they get clean: Old Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff. Unfortunately, they''re not going to kick their addictions on their own. Bill Ronte is an exceptionally skilled machinist, who could fix the problems we''ve been having with Freeside''s water pump... but only once he sobers up. Then there''s Jacob, who got hooked on chems by the Garrets when he was working for them. Honestly, it''s a bit ironic, since he used to homebrew detox chems for the Followers a few years ago. If he gets clean, he might be able to help us again."


    "Do you know where I can find them?" I asked, with a conviction I didn''t realize I had until I''d heard the words escape my mouth.


    "In Freeside, the drunks and the drug addicts flock in and around the Atomic Wrangler. I''d start there. You can find it at the west end of Fremont Street. There''s a big neon sign above the door of a cowboy riding an atom, you can''t miss it." She paused, then added "Do you really think you might be able to help with some of our problems?" She sounded incredibly hopeful, and looked up at me with a pleading expression.


    "I''ll see what I can do."


    Julie punched the coordinates for Dr. Usanagi''s clinic into my Pip Boy, and then politely excused herself, saying that she needed to tend to other business around the fort. After she left, Veronica slowly inched her way towards me.


    "That''s awful nice of you, offering to help them out like this," she said. I shrugged.


    "I said I''d see what I can do. It''s not like I promised to fix all of Freeside''s problems overnight or anything."


    "Still, it''s more than most people nowadays would do." She looked around the fort and added, seemingly to herself "Can''t help but be impressed by what they''re doing here..." Veronica shook it off, and looked back at me. "It begs the question though - why?"


    "Why?" I repeated, a bit taken aback by the question. She nodded.


    "I admit, I haven''t known you for very long. Probably less than a day. But I''ve seen enough of how you operate so far to take an educated guess: you don''t do anything without a reason. So what''s your reason for helping the Followers?"


    I paused for a minute, trying to consider her question. My knee started to re up slightly for no obvious reason, so I used that as an excuse to dy while I found a ce to sit down. After we found a pair of chairs outside a tent on the north end of the fort, I decided to be straight and honest with her.


    "Because of the addicts," I said, sitting down. "When she talked about helping the addicts get clean, I felt...pelled."


    "There''s a story here, isn''t there?" She looked at me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.


    "Using my own words against me, huh?" She nodded smugly. "Alright, alright. I''ll tell you the story. I decided to help out when she mentioned the addicts, because I used to be an addict myself. It was a long time ago, back when I was still living in Shady Sands."


    "How long ago was that?"


    "Hell," I said, the details returning to the forefront of my mind, "It was about 13 years ago, maybe a bit more. I was in my mid twenties, but it felt like I was still barely out of my teens. I was just a dumb kid... made a lot of dumb decisions..." I trailed off a bit, a number of painful memories that I''d much rather stay buried started to surface. I shook it off, realizing I''d been staring off in space, and continued. Unfortunately, the memories were forced to continue with me.


    "There was a girl. You asked earlier if I''d ever been in love, and all I said was yes. Doesn''t really do the story justice. I don''t want to bore you with all the pointless, trivial details, but... see, what happened was, she and I were together for a while, and then one day, she leaves me. Never gave me a real reason, so me being the immature, idiot-child I was back then, I med it all on myself. It was a real hit to my own self-worth, you know? And then I thought, maybe if I was better somehow, she might take me back."


    "Better?" Veronica asked dubiously. "What do you mean, better?"


    "I mean the kind of better you get with Mentats. At least, at the time, I thought it was better. I know different now, but... basically, I started taking Party-Time Mentats to try and give my mind a boost, and make myself... ''better'' so she''de back to me. Eventually though..." I sighed. "Eventually I forgot all about why I was taking them. It got to the point where I was popping the damn things like candy... where the world just didn''t seem right, and I didn''t <em>feel</em> like myself if I wasn''t high on that damn brain enhancer. Nothing else in the world mattered... except that boost."


    "So what happened?"


    "A long story filled with sighs is what happened. But, suffice to say, eventually I realized I had a problem. I got help. I got clean. Haven''t touched Mentats or the Party-Time version since, and I''ve tried to be careful whenever I might need to use anything that could get me hooked on something worse. And that''s why I''m sympathetic to Julie''s desire to help these guys get clean. I''ve been in their shoes. I know what it''s like. And I know how hard it is to take that first step towards getting help." I paused, then added under my breath "Maybe I can do some good for once."


    Before I could continue with any more introspection, I felt something metal and heavy shove itself against the back of my head. I turned around in my chair and was face to grille with ED-E, who was floating nearby and beeping, and had obviously nudged me to get my attention.


    "ED-E? What''s up?" I asked the robot. ED-E beeped, and floated slightly to his right, in a motion vaguely reminiscent of someone gesturing with their head to look somewhere. I looked out in that direction, to see what ED-E was "pointing" at.


    On the far eastern side of the fort, near one of therger tents, I saw one of the Followers doctors staring at us. Specifically, it looked like he was starting at ED-E. I couldn''t really tell from this distance, but he looked like he could be about my age... maybe a little older. His hair was a sort of wavy corn silk blonde, parted to one side, and he wore a pair of square, thick rimmed ck spectacles. When he saw me take notice of him, he quickly started looking around, as if to try and hide the fact that he was staring, and he walked away from his spot into one of the tents.


    "What''s up? What''s going on?" Veronica asked. I got up from my chair, and pointed over to where the man had been standing.


    "One of the Followers was staring at ED-E."


    "Makes sense," she said with a shrug, getting up as well. "ED-E is kind of unique. I haven''t seen any other robots around here quite like it."


    "Maybe so, but he was really staring. Like he was spying on him, or something."


    "Spying? Don''t you think that''s a bit paranoid?"


    "If he wasn''t spying, why would he have ducked into a tent to hide the moment he realized I''d spotted him?" I turned to the robot floating next to me. "So, what do you think - go for the direct approach? Find out what his interest is?" ED-E beeped approvingly, and bobbed up and down in a sort of nod.


    Less than a minuteter, the three of us entered the tent where he had tried to hide. He wasn''t that hard to spot. He was standing with his back to us in front of an unstable looking desk, on top of which were numerous vials and tubes and chemistry equipment, clipboards, stacks of notes, and a dizzying number of pencils - all of which seemed to be broken. Next to the desk was a bookshelf, each shelf filled with books stacked both in rows and on top of one another, all in various states of legibility and disrepair. Pinned to the side of the tent were papers, charts and graphs. He was just standing at the desk. At first nce, I thought he might have been working on something, but then I realized he wasn''t actually moving.


    "Hey there," I called out to get his attention. He jumped slightly, in a motion that seemed just a bit too well rehearsed, and turned around swiftly to face us. He smiled at the two of us with an awkward, toothy grin.


    "Oh... uh... hi there. I''m Arcade. Arcade Gannon. If you''re looking for medical help, you should try one of the other doctors. I''m just a researcher. Not even a particrly good one."


    "I''m Sheason," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I''m actually wondering why you were staring at ED-E."


    "Eddie? Who?" He asked, and I jabbed a thumb at the robot floating to my right. "Oh, the eyebot. Sorry, I didn''t realize I was staring."


    "Forgive me if I don''t believe you," I said narrowing my eyes. "So, you mind telling me what your interest is in my robot?"


    Arcade shifted his stance backwards, looking from Veronica, to me, and then to ED-E, ring almost imperceptibly at the eyebot. I saw his right hand rest on his coat, right near his hips... and from inside the folds of hisbcoat, right above where his hand hade to rest, a glint of something shiny and metal caught my eye. And then he shifted his stance again, straightening his coat and clearing his throat.


    "I''m just a little wary of... I''m not a big fan of robots. Especially ones like yours. Some of these robots, you look at them the wrong way, don''t screw in a vacuum tube right... and then -" he snapped his fingers "- the next thing you know, you''re a pile of glowing ash on the ground, and someone''s stepping out of a vertibird to sweep your remains into a Nuka C bottle."


    "So, is that why you have a pistol at your side?" I asked. "In case you run into any rogue robots?"


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about," Gannon said just a little bit quickly.


    "This isn''t just a pistol!" Veronica eximed suddenly. Both of us turned, and I was incredibly surprised to see her at Arcade''s side (How did she get there without me noticing? Wasn''t she standing next to me a second ago?) with a very sophisticated looking energy weapon in her hands. She was holding it up to the light and examining it with wide eyes and an even wider smile. "This is a Glock 86 sma defender - designed by the Gaston Glock AI in 2035! This is an incredibly sophisticated and very rare piece of pre-war technology! Where did you get this?"


    "Give that back!" Arcade said as he snatched the pistol out of Veronica''s hands. Very quickly he examined the gun, and put it back in it''s holster, covering it with hisbcoat. "Alright, fine. I carry a pistol. What of it?"


    "You said you were a researcher?" Veronica asked.


    "What kind of a researcher needs to carry around a sma pistol?" I added.


    "Glock 86 sma de-" Veronica began, but I held up my hand to stop her. If I left her to it, she''d probably ramble on about the pistol for hours.


    "There''s no way I''m going to say that every time. It''s a sma pistol." I turned back to Arcade. "Point still stands, though. That''s some pretty heavy armament you''re packing - are you researching giant radscorpions or something?"


    "No, no, nothing like that," he said, straightening hisbcoat. "My research is primarily focused on finding alternative treatments formon illnesses and injuries. Stimpacks out of barrel cacti and other fantastic improbabilities. As far as fruitless wastes of time go, it''s quite noble in its aims." He pushed his sses up the bridge of his nose. "As for the pistol, I only carry it because it''s dangerous in the Mojave Wastnd. Much more dangerous than any ce back west."


    Something wasn''t adding up. If that sma pistol was as rare as Veronica imed it was, how could someone like a researcher for the Followers of the Apocalypsee across it? He didn''t look the sort suited to scavenging, and he probably couldn''t afford it. And yeah, the Mojave Wastnd was proving a bit more dangerous than other ces, but it''s not like there was a deathw behind every rock... unlike some other ces I''ve been. Before I could finish figuring it out, Veronica distracted me. Perhaps bringing her along as a mobile distraction wasn''t the best idea.


    "Illnesses and injuries? What sort?" Veronica asked. She''d been looking over the notes pinned to the side of the tent while I had been sizing up Arcade. He shrugged.


    "Cuts,cerations, broken bones. Infections resulting from all of the above. Common cold, influenza... take your pick. There are plenty of ways to die out here, and most of them, surprisingly, don''t have anything to do with war. Justmon human fragility."


    "Why?" I asked. Arcade looked at me questioningly.


    "I beg your pardon?"


    "Why are you trying to make stimpacks out of barrel cacti? I mean, you said yourself that it''s a ''fantastic improbability,'' so why even bother?"


    "The past hundred years or so, the Followers have managed to get by using salvaged medical supplies from the old world. But the side effect of medical sess is that more people live longer," Arcade chucked grimly, with a sick sort of desperation in hisugh. "Funny how that works. Eventually, we''ll run out of hospitals to loot. We need new ways to produce those supplies. Or maybe old ways, if this research goes anywhere." He sighed, and looked at the notes on his desk. "But I doubt it will."


    "You don''t really sound all that enthusiastic about it."


    "I''m enthusiastic about helping people, but nihil novi sub sole."


    "What was that?" Veronica asked. "Isn''t that thenguage Caesar''s Legion speaks?"


    "Caesar can cite Cato to suit his purposes. Many people have spoken Latin over the centuries... some of them were quite pleasant. It''s unfortunate that thenguage is now associated with the gentlemen across the river."


    "Where did you learn to speak that?" I asked.


    "Not from Legion, if that''s what you''re getting at. Books, sheet music, diator movie holotapes... I''ve picked up bits and pieces here and there. The Followers have extensive libraries, but we all draw water from the same old well. Even Caesar."


    "Do you know much about Caesar?" A thought had urred to me: eventually, I was going to have to head to Cottonwood Cove and infiltrate the Legion stronghold. And this guy seemed to know a bit about thenguage Legion spoke. Maybe he might know something that would be useful.


    "I don''t really know anything that the others couldn''t tell you," he said with a shrug.


    "Others? What others?"


    "Caesar was one of the Followers." Arcade said matter-of-factly. "Before my time, of course. He wanted to rebuild the new world in the image of the old. A sad story of good intentions gone bad. In that regard, he''s hardly unique. If you set aside his leadership capabilities, extensive knowledge, and ruthless cunning, he''s just another jerk who steps on people to get his way."


    "I''m a bit confused about something, actually," Veronica spoke up. She''d been shuffling through his papers and notes while we''d been talking. "If you''re enthusiastic about helping people, but you think all this research is pointless, why do it? Why not provide medical help like the other Followers?" Arcade turned to her and very calmly pulled the research notes out of her hands.


    "Please don''t touch my things anymore," He said, shuffling them and putting the notes back on his desk. "And to answer your question, not all Followers are ''people persons.'' And even though I''m sure I''d do more good in the short term with my medical expertise, I''m just not all that good with people. Besides, someone needs to do the research, so I don''t have a problem with Julie sticking me back here. Out of sight, out of mind, you know? I''m fine doing research back here, even if it is a bit boring..." he sighed. "...and pointless..." he looked down at his shoes and sighed again. "...and aplete waste of time."


    Eventually, he looked up and realized the three of us - even ED-E - had been staring at him. He tried to wave it off with a chuckle. "Don''t mind me. I''m just voicing my thoughts so they don''t burrow out of my skull in a fit of abject despondency."


    If you ask me now, I couldn''t tell you why I said what I said next. But before I even really realized I was speaking, I heard wordse out of my mouth.


    "Why don''t youe with me?"


    He looked at me with an expression that matched my own internal surprise. Veronica too, as she looked back and forth between the two of us. ED-E just hovered behind me and beeped warily.


    "No offense," he said. "but why should I go anywhere with you?"


    When I gave my answer, it was almost like I could feel House speaking through me.


    "We got off on the wrong foot, I admit. But things are pretty bad around here - Julie made that much clear. And as it happens... I''m in the unique position of being able to help. I want to actually make a difference for once in my life, and I can tell that you want to help too. I don''t want to offer you an incentive as crude as money, but there will be plenty, trust me. What I want to do is offer you what my employer has offered me: a future, not just for you, or me, or Veronica, or any of the others who are following me, but for what remains of the human race."


    Both Arcade and Veronica stared at me for a few moments, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he considered the offer.


    "Huh... That seems appropriately resolute and yet vague." He rubbed his chin and regarded me carefully. "But why? Why are you interested in someone like me?"


    To answer his question, I grabbed the cor of my jacket and stuck my thumb through the hole in the right shoulder. Arcade smiled and chuckled a bit when he saw the bullet hole.


    "I''ve been in more than a few scrapes over thest few days. I figured that I might need someone who knows a bit more about medicine than me."


    "Alright," he said, still chuckling and stroking his chin. "I guess I can give you the benefit of the doubt. At least for a little while. Just one thing: your employer better not be Caesar. If you n to help the Legion, this is going to be a brief rtionship. I may not have all the answers for how to fix the problems in the Mojave, but Caesar taking control isn''t part of the solution. Fair?"


    "That''s fair," I nodded. "Just so long as you''re clear about something as well: ED-E has saved my skin many times, and if you do anything to him, I won''t be held responsible for what I do to you. Is that fair?"


    "I suppose that''s fair enough," He red at the eyebot. "Just don''t ask me to re-attach your arm when your pet murder machine goes into ''search and destroy'' mode. Give me a few minutes to pack up and get some things in order, alright?"


    "Sounds good," I said, nodding. "Just one question I forgot to ask earlier. Nihil novi sub sole. What does it mean?"


    "Oh. Sorry. It''s Latin for ''there is nothing new under the sun.''"


    While Arcade was gathering his things, and arranging it with Julie so he could apany us, Veronica pulled me aside.


    "Do you really think it''s a good idea to bring him with us? I mean, he obviously doesn''t like ED-E all that much. There''s just something wrong with somebody that suspicious of robots. And there''s just something... he seems a little shifty, you know? Like he''s hiding something."


    "Oh, and of course, you''ve never hidden anything from anybody, have you?" I asked with a smirk. She opened her mouth as if to argue, and then snapped it shut with a blush.


    "Fair point."


    "Yeah, I agree with you that he''s obviously hiding something. It seems like everyone that''s getting attached to this steadily growing caravan is hiding something... But you have to admit, we could use the medical help. And I figure that if what he''s hiding is important enough, we''ll find out about it eventually. As for ED-E..." I took a look at the eyebot, who hovered in front of me, and beeped quizzically. "Honestly, I''m not worried. ED-E can fly, and he''s armed with aser. I''m sure he can handle himself well enough, can''t you boy?" I patted his chassis with a ringing metal sound, and he chirped proudly. "There is something I''ve been meaning to ask you, though."


    "Yes?" Veronica looked at me from under her hood with a questioning nce.


    "When you grabbed Arcade''s sma gun. How did you get it without either of us noticing?"


    "What can I say," she shrugged. "I''m a procurement specialist, like I told you. I''m very good at procuring things. Often without people realizing." She smiled a faux-innocent smile. I just shook my head.


    "And here I thought Cass was a kleptomaniac. I''m gonna have to worry about both of you stealing anything not nailed down, aren''t I?"

 Chapter 15: High Times

    Chapter 15: High Times


    <em>Wee back to the program. This is Mr. New Vegas and I hope I''m noting on too strong. That was "Cobwebs and Rainbows" by Bruce Isaac, undisputed king of the lounge scene in New Reno. Or, at least, he was - no one up north has seen or heard anything from Mr. Isaac in months. If any of my lovely listeners happens to see him, tell him Mr. New Vegas would love to hear him sing again. We''ll have more news for you at the top of the hour, but right now I''ve got more ssics to y just for you. Here''s a personal favorite of mine: it''s the original Mr. Las Vegas, Wayne Newton, singing his signature piece from 1963, Danke Schoen. </em>


    "Hey, Sheason?" Veronica called out after me as the group of us walked down Las Vegas Boulevard. "Why are we heading this way? I thought Dr. Usanagi''s clinic was outside Freeside''s gates, in the other direction."


    "You''re right. It is," I said with a shrug. "You know what else it is? Several miles away, and I''m not gonna walk that far with a bullet in my knee. I''ll go when I can get the Corvega from the 38''s garage and I don''t have to walk all the way there."


    "The 38?" Arcade spoke up from behind me. "You don''t mean..." He looked up and out, directly at House''s fortress.


    "Yeah, the Lucky 38," I said, looking back at Arcade. "Didn''t I mention? I thought I mentioned - my employer is Mr. House." He looked at me with ck-jawed astonishment.


    "Mr. House? THE Mr. House?! The man who nobody has seen in 200 years? The man who rules The Strip with an iron fist? The man who has an army of dangerous, trigger-happy robots with military grade weapons at his beck and call? THAT Mr. House is your employer?"


    "Yeah," I said nodding. "I suppose so."


    "Well... that puts your offer in a new light..." Arcade said with a chuckle. "And it certainly exins some things."


    "What do you mean, exins some things?" I asked.


    "It''s just some things that I''ve heard today. Mr. New Vegas has been talking all morning about how The Tops is closed, and House is telling everyone not to worry. But there''ve been a lot of rumors going around sincest night. I heard some of the junkies, and even some of the doctors in a nearby tent talking about it earlier - some guy people have been calling The Courier waltzed into The Tops, started shooting up the ce, killed the owner, then walked into the Lucky 38 like he owned the ce."


    I couldn''t help but shake my head.


    "How the fuck do people find out about this stuff?" I asked Veronica. She just shrugged.


    "Well, be honest - our little stunt at The Tops wasn''t exactly subtle," she said with a chuckle. "I mean, you smashed Swank''s face, yelled at everyone to get out before everything went to hell, we all shot the ce up... What I want to know is why the rest of us didn''t get mentioned! I mean, you didn''t go in there all alone. There was me, Cass, Boone, ED-E..." ED-E beeped his agreement.


    "So... the rumors are true then?" Arcade said in an almost hushed whisper.


    "True enough, I guess," I replied. "The thing I don''t get is how people even know I''m a courier. Couriers don''t normally shoot up casinos."


    "Probably because of the other news story," Arcade answered. When he was met with more silence and nk faces, he borated. "Don''t either of you listen to the radio?"


    "Not really," Veronica was the first to speak up. "There aren''t that many radio stations that cover all the Mojave, and I''m not really a fan of the music any of them y."


    "Nope," I shook my head. "I know it may seem surprising, given the Pip Boy and all, but I didn''t actually grow up in a Vault, so I never really developed a taste for all those ssic pre-war songs. Besides, the only other radio I''ve ever had was in my Corvega, and that was stolen in Gecko about 5 years ago."


    "Wait, you didn''t grow up in a Vault?" Veronica spoke up.


    "Look, we''ll talk about where I came fromter," I said, trying desperately to get the conversation back on track. "Arcade, what was that you were saying about a news story?"


    "It''s been one of the stories Mr. New Vegas has been running since... Thursday, I think. He reported that there was a courier who''d been shot in the head close to Goodsprings and recovered. Next thing you know, all the townies are talking about The Indestructible Courier. I''m guessing from the scars on your face that there''s at least a little truth to that story?"


    Almost as a reflex, I rubbed the scar on my temple. It was worse than I thought. People were actually calling me The Indestructible Courier? That was just silly.


    "Ok, yes, there is a <em>little</em> truth to the story. Yes, I did get shot in the face, and yes, I did get better, but here''s what really happened..."


    So I spent the next ten minutes or so exining to him most of the events that had happened to me since Wednesday morning, from waking up in Doc Mitchell''s and fighting off the Powder Gangers all the way up to delivering the tinum Chip to House.


    "Damn," he said when I finally finished. "Ok, so the people talking about it have gotten a few things wrong, but that''s still pretty impressive. Did you really help a pack of ghouls go into space?"


    "You know," Veronica called out. "you still haven''t answered my question from earlier. Where the hell are we going?"


    I came to a stop, and pointed at the sign not 20 yards distant. It was vaguely reminiscent of the arch in New Reno, except it looked cobbled together from bits and pieces of all manner of neon signs. It said "FREESIDE" in letters of all shapes and sizes, and marked the entrance to Fremont Street. The sign itself was suspended between two street lights.


    "Did you forget about the addicts Julie told us to help?"


    "Oh. Right."


    The Atomic Wrangler reminded me a lot of the Shark Club back in New Reno. Only not quite as well taken care of. It was dark, smoky, and smelled like stale beer and vomit. So, business as usual as far as a bar in the wastnd was concerned. The stench spoke volumes though, since the ceiling was three stories high. Off to the side against one of the walls was a stage... well, to be honest, it wasn''t really a stage so much as a raised wooden tform with some red curtains hung behind it that were faded and looked moth eaten. There were a few people sitting at cocktail tables, and the bar only had about half a dozen people sitting there. Off in the back was a door big enough to drive my Corvega through, and on the other side I could see the slot machines, the roulette wheels, the ckjack tables, and at least one craps table.


    "Hey!" I heard a female voice call out over the general murmur of the crowd. The owner of the voice was behind the bar, wearing a shabby grey suit with ck pinstripes and a ck tie. She red at us with a sneer and cold, brown eyes. Her dark brown hair was tied behind her head in a bun so tight, it looked like it was trying to pull her face off. "We don''t serve it''s kind here!"


    "Wait, what?" was all I managed to say before she spoke up again


    "The robot!" She said, pointing at ED-E. "The bar is for paying customers only. Automatons that can''t drink just take up space."


    I looked at ED-E, back at the woman behind the bar, and then back at ED-E.


    "But he can fly," I said, pointing a thumb at the hovering eyebot.


    "Look, the Atomic Wrangler? This is my ce, and my rules. You don''t like it? Tough."


    I shrugged, and turned back to ED-E. He floated in front of me and let out two pathetic insistent beeps. It almost sounded like a dog whimpering. I patted his chassis with a soft ng.


    "Hey, c''mon buddy, don''t be like that. We don''t want to cause any trouble, right? At least, not here, and not right now. Head back to the 38, and we''ll meet up with you there. I promise." With a resigned whirr, ED-E bobbed away and out the door.


    "Alright," the woman behind the counter said as the three of us sat down at the bar. "Now that vulgar business has been taken care of, what can I do for you?"


    "I''m looking for some people," I told her. "I''m guessing you''re one of the Garret twins, right? I heard you might be able to help." She just chuckled and smirked at me.


    "Looking for someone, eh? Alright, who''re you looking for: Santiago, Kinky Kelly, Cmity, or FISTO?"


    "I''m sorry?" I blinked, confused.


    "I''ll warn you about thest one, though, you''ll probably have to fight my useless brother for it. Last I checked, he was still upstairs, busy doing the wang-dang atomic tango with that sexbot."


    "Oh, no, no, no!" I said quickly, as soon as I realized what she was talking about. "I''m not looking for a hooker-"


    "Escort," she corrected.


    "Whatever. No, see, I''m looking for Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff. Julie Farkas at the fort told me to look for them. I heard they might be found near here. Know where?"


    "Yeah... I might know where you can find them," She said. And then she remained silent for a minute or two.


    "Uh... Think you might be interested in sharing that with me?"


    "You gotta make me interested," she said matter of factly. "What you''re after is information, and information is a valuablemodity. Granted, the location of a couple of deadbeat junkies isn''t worth much, but it''s still information, and information is something you pay for."


    "How about I buy a couple of drinks, will that loosen your tongue?" I deadpanned.


    "Might help," she shrugged. "What''ll you have?"


    "Just a beer is fine," I said.


    "It''s a little bit early for me," Veronica spoke up. "Got any Nuka C?" The Garret sister nodded, and then turned to Arcade.


    "So, what about you - what''ll you have, handsome?" she said, cing a bottle of Nuka in front of Veronica.


    "A rum & Nuka will be fine," Arcade said, pushing his sses up the bridge of his nose. "And, no offense, but you''re not really my type."


    From my other side, I heard Veronica mutter under her breath as she took a sip of soda: "Yeah, that''s cause she doesn''t have a dick." I''m still not sure if Arcade ever heard thatment or not, since she slid a ss of rum & Nuka in front of him at that moment. As soon as she put the beer bottle in front of me, I tossed the caps on the table, with a few extra, just in case.


    "Alright... now how about you tell me where I can find the men I''m looking for?"


    She was silent while she counted the caps, ignoring mepletely. When she was done, she hit the top of the cash register at the bar with her fist, and the tray opened with a ka-ching! She dropped the caps inside, closed the tray with another ding, and smiled smugly at me.


    "I don''t know exactly where you can find Jacob Hoff, but your best bet is one of the abandoned buildings over by Mick & Ralph''s at the other end of Fremont street, over near the east gate. That''s where most of the druggies and junkies and chem fiends usually end up. Ronte on the other hand... he''s a deadbeat and I don''t even let him in anymore."


    "Why not?" Arcade asked as he sipped his drink.


    "He couldn''t pay for booze, and he kept harassing the customers. If it wasn''t begging them to buy him drinks, it was annoying them with tales of the ''good old days.'' I honestly don''t know where this guy gets off, but if he honestly thinks the old days were any good, he needs his fucking head examined."


    "So where is he?" I asked.


    "Last I heard, people said they''d seen him in one of the squats nearby. Didn''t want to move too far from the smell of booze, I guess."


    It didn''t take us that long to find him. Most of the derelict buildings past the sign on Fremont Street were west of the Silver Rush and the Atomic Wrangler. There were a few squatters and drunks hanging around; most of them scattered as soon as we got close, but a few stuck around. A few caps, and we were pointed in the right direction.


    Bill Ronte was sitting in a corner on a folded out piece of cardboard, leaning against the broken staircase with his head bowed and his eyes shut. He was bald except for a few wispy strands still defiantly clinging to his head, and his face was messy andpletely unshaven with a big, scraggly beard. He wore a yellow stained shirt and a pair of dirty grey overalls. His feet werepletely bare, but his left foot was bandaged. All around him were empty bottles, including shards of broken ss and a nearly ck bloodstain on the ground near it.


    "Bill Ronte?" I said. I didn''t yell, but I spoke loud and forcefully enough to wake him up. He stirred and snorted, jerking his head as he woke up, looking around groggily. Finally his eyes settled on me and mypanions.


    "Oh, uh..." his voice was gruff and cracked. Not quite as bad as a ghoul, but still bad. "Hullo. You seen Dixon ''round? He said he''d be back today."


    "You are Bill Ronte, right?" I asked, getting down on one knee to look him in the eye.


    "Uh... yeah... yeah, I''m, um... yeah, I''m Bill."


    "My name''s Sheason. Julie Farkas sent me to help you sober up." As soon as I mentioned Julie''s name, his eyes shone with recognition, his cheeks flushed with red, and he smiled stupidly.


    "Julie? Ah, I love Julie... She''s such a nicedy. One time, back in th''old days, I was workin'' on the water pump, an'' she came over, put her hand on my shoulder, an'' told me I was doing a great job," He chuckled softly to himself, and I could swear I saw a bit of moisture in the corners of his eyes. He sniffed and continued. "Great job, she says! Well, I just choked up, didn''t say nothin''. Compliments''r so rare these days, y''know?" He reached out to his side, grabbing one of the empty bottles, and made to take a drink, but he realized halfway to his mouth that it was empty. He upended the empty bottle and looked at it with a sad, sorry expression.


    "Bill," I said, grabbing his hand, and forcing the bottle away from him. It didn''t really matter that it was empty. "Julie sent me here because she''s worried about you. You need to stop drinking."


    "Drop drinkin''?" He cried out with a pained expression. "I can''t stop, I''ve been drinkin'' fer a straight month!" He coughed again, and looked back at me with zed-over eyes. "Look, I''ve tried to stop, but... I can''t... when I''m sober, it feels like I''m gonna die. I can''t stop now."


    "How can you even afford all this alcohol?" I heard Veronica say from over my shoulder. She''d entered the ruined building and was looking around at the myriad of broken bottles littering the ground.


    "Dixon sells me booze dirt cheap," he coughed again. "It does the job, but it tastes like paint thinner. I swear that guy is tryin'' to kill me, but what can I do? Even if I could afford it, drinkin'' other booze doesn''t cure the sickness like this..."


    "Bill," I said, cing a hand on his shoulder. He looked back at me. "Listen to me. Julie and the rest of your friends back at the fort? They miss you. They''re worried about you. You need to kick the habit, and they can help. It would mean a lot to Julie... and I know you want to hear thosepliments for a job well done again."


    "Oh, Julie..." when he spoke, his eyes shifted back into focus, and the moisture I saw earlier finally turned into tears. "I''ve... I''ve really screwed things up, haven''t I?" I nodded.


    "It''s not toote, Bill. You can fix this. I know you can. You know you can. Julie believed in you. You just need to believe in yourself." He nodded, and wiped his face with his arm.


    "Yeah," he said with a mixture of a snort and a sniff. "Don''t worry... I''ll... I''ll head over to the fort an'' get some rest... This has gone on too long." He grabbed onto my arm, and I tried to help him up. As soon as he got on his feet though, he yelled in pain, and would''ve copsed if I hadn''t been holding onto him. Veronica rushed to his other side, and helped me pick him back up.


    "Muh foot..." he wheezed out with a grimace. He was keeping his bandaged foot up off the ground. "I... I don''t think I can walk..."


    "Don''t worry man," I said to him. "We''ll get you to the fort. They''ll help you out, don''t worry."


    "You go," Veronica said to me. "You still need to find Jacob Hoff. I can carry him to the fort, I remember the way, and he''s not that heavy."


    "Not that heavy?" Arcade scoffed. "You look like you''re about 80 pounds, you won''t be able to carry him all that way."


    I looked at Veronica, who just nodded and smiled at me. It was hard to forget the armor she wore under the robe, and I remembered how surprisingly strong she seemed when I first met her. I couldn''t be certain, but I had the distinct impression that it augmented her strength somehow. Or maybe she really was just a lot stronger than she looked. Who knows?


    "Don''t worry, I got him. Trust me. I''ll meet up with you outside Mick & Ralphs, that''s near where Garret said Jacob might be, right?"


    "Yeah, we''ll see youter." I let go of Bill, and he slumped against Veronica. I couldn''t tell if he''d fallen asleep. She just sighed, adjusted his arm across her shoulders, and carried him out the back of the derelict building.


    "So!" I turned to Arcade after Veronica had left. "That''s one down. Ready to go find the other one?" Arcade didn''t say anything; he just looked pensive, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. "What? What''s up?"


    "It''s just something he said, earlier, caught my attention," Arcade looked up at me, and his sses fell down his nose. "That name - Dixon. I''ve heard that name before. He''s one of the major drug dealers in the worse parts of Freeside."


    "If he''s a major drug dealer, why would he be selling paint thinner dressed up as booze to a drunk who can''t pay for it?" I asked.


    "I don''t know," Arcade admitted. "But I think we may need to find this Dixon if we''re really serious about helping cure Freeside''s drug problem."


    Arcade and I walked down Freemont street, towards the east gate. After we crossed Las Vegas Boulevard, I decided I should try and strike up a conversation with my bespectacledpanion.


    "So," I said, putting my hands in my pockets as we walked. "Tell me about yourself, Arcade."


    "I''m sorry?"


    "Well, we''re going to be working together, right? I think it''s important to get to know the people I''m working with, so... tell me about yourself."


    "I''m really very boring," he said adjusting his sses. "You''d get better stories out of a Freeside junkie. I mean, we''re going to visit one anyway, you should ask him."


    "Oh,e on, you can do better than that."


    "No, really!" he said with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. "Have you ever snorted a ground-up cazador venom sac? Neither have I, but I can guarantee you that a Freeside junkie has." That was the second time I''d heard the word cazador. What the hell was a cazador? I still had no idea.


    "Do you always deflect personal questions, Arcade?" I asked. He merely shrugged.


    "Only to obfuscate my past association with a fascist paramilitary organization."


    "That..." I blinked, trying to parse what he''d said. "That was a suspiciously specific denial."


    "That''s because it was a joke," he said. "To be honest, I will deflect personal questions at any opportunity."


    "Why don''t you like talking about yourself?" After talking so much with Veronica, talking with someone who just wasn''t as candid was a jarring change.


    "Some people do. I just... don''t."


    "C''mon Arcade, I''m asking you because I''m interested."


    "Alright," he sighed. "Fine, if you really want to know. I''m thirty-ish...Well, ok,te thirties. I was born..." he paused, and scratched the back of his neck. "... west of here. I was an only child and spent most of my time with my mother. My father died when I was young and I never got over it. Oh, and I like medicine and reading books about failed Pre-War socioeconomic policies." He looked at me and chuckled.


    "Right now, I''m sure you''re asking yourself ''Why hasn''t some lucky man swooped in and scooped this bachelor off his feet?'' Like I said. I''m boring,"


    H-uh. Arcade was gay. I totally did not see that oneing. I wonder if Veronica had actually known that...


    "Look, I appreciate that you''re trying to be friendly. I''d just rather not discuss it."


    The rest of the walk (which wasn''t that long) was spent in rtive silence. When we finally got to our destination by the east gate, across the street from Mick & Ralphs, it wasn''t all that hard to find the building where the drug addicts congregated. It looked like at some point it had been a three story building, but the ceiling and many of the walls had copsed inwards. I could see people all around, dressed in rags, and gazing at us from the windows and cracks in the walls while trying to remain unseen. Near one of the doors, a woman was leaning against the wall with her back to us. She vomited violently, and then copsed next to the pool of sick.


    Arcade and I entered the ruined building, and a man walked up to us. What little hair he had was grey, as was his stubble. He had bags the size of nuclear warheads under his eyes, and he hunched as he walked towards us with crossed arms. He was shaking visibly, despite trying to hide it.


    "Hey," he spoke to me, in a hurried tone. "Hey, uh... do you have any chems buddy? I could really use a fix."


    "Do you know where I can find Jacob Hoff?" I asked, ignoring his request for chems. He seemed taken-aback.


    "Well.. yeah. I''m Jacob Hoff. Why? Who are you?"


    "My name''s Sheason. Julie Farkas back at the Old Mormon Fort told me you could use some help." He just chuckled grimly when Julie''s name was mentioned.


    "Eh... Julie''s a saint, but I don''t need any help. I feel young and strong, man, just so long as I get my chems. You got any?" He started scratching his arm.


    "You don''t look young and strong," Arcade said to him.


    "He''s right. You look pretty bad, Jacob. You need to get clean - for Julie if nothing else."


    "That''s stupid," he said, continuing to scratch his arm. "I don''t need to get clean, I feel great! No worries. My guy will be here soon enough, just you wait, man."


    "Who''s supplying you?" I asked, suspicious that I already knew the answer.


    "Fuck, man," he said. "If I had two caps to scrap together I''d buy the materials to make my own, but my damn hands won''t stop shaking. I get my shit from this guy, Dixon. I mean, yeah, something about him seems sketchy, but thest time I stopped, I felt like I was going to turn inside out. I''m mostly just buying his shit just so I don''t feel sick. Speaking of, do you have any spare caps?"


    "Jacob, listen to yourself," I said to him, trying to be forceful (but not rude.) "You should know better than this - you said yourself that you can make your own chems. You should know what misuse does to people. You should know what they''re doing to you."


    "Julie is really worried about you. The others at the fort want to help you get well, Jacob," Arcade added. Jacob shook his head.


    "Alright, fuck it, fine. I''ve quit before. If you really care so much, then get me some shots of Fixer to calm down these shakes. I''m gonna need at least..." he waved one of his hands, and looked up, like he was trying to pull the words out of thin air. "...ten shots to get me through the week. From there, the Followers should be able to help." I just shook my head.


    "Jacob, we''re not going to give you more chems - even if they are detox chems. What you need is to be strong. You need the support of your friends to get through this." I stared at him, and he looked back at me with an understanding, nodding his head.


    "Yeah... yeah, I think... I think you''re right. I mean, hell, I''ve been through worse. I''ll go to the fort and see if the Followers can watch over me while I recover."


    "Are you sure you can make it on your own?" Arcade asked. Jacob nodded.


    "Yeah... it''s not that far. And like I said, I''ve been through worse. Fuck it, maybe this time I''ll stay clean." He started to walk away from us, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.


    "Just one thing before you go - this Dixon guy. What does he look like?"


    "Uh..." Jacob looked up again, looking like he was seriously racking his brain. "I dunno. Kinda reddish, dirty skin, has a mustache, likes wearing a brown ballcap with goggles sitting on the brim. Wears a big coat, got all his shit inside it. Trust me, you can''t miss him."


    Jacob walked away from the two of us and around the corner. As soon as he disappeared, Arcade turned to me.


    "Is it just me, or did he give up a little too easily?" He asked. I nodded in agreement.


    "Oh yeah. Someone that bad, itching from the withdrawal? I''m pretty sure he was just blowing me off."


    "So what was the point of all that then?"


    "Found out what Dixon looks like, didn''t I?" I said. "If we get rid of the source, we stop the flood."


    "So, you found Jacob without me, huh?" Veronica was leaning against the wall of Mick & Ralph''s with crossed arms and a smirk on her face.


    "Yeah," I said, as Arcade and I walked towards her. "But we''re not done. We gotta find this guy Dixon. He''s the guy who was supplying Bill and Jacob."


    "And, half of Freeside''s junkies, if any of the doctors at the fort are right," Arcade added. I nodded.


    "We need to convince him to shut up shop, and leave Freeside."


    "Alright," Veronica said. "So, how do we find him?"


    I almost didn''t hear her. My attention was focused off in the distance, down Fremont street and past a number of locals either milling around or walking by. Leaning up against a building near amppost was a man smoking a cigarette, wearing a long tan coat, with a brown ballcap on his head that had goggles sitting on the brim. Even from this distance I could make out the mustache, and could tell this was the man we were looking for. But the fact that Dixon was just standing out there in the open wasn''t what was keeping me enthralled.


    Jacob''s description hadn''t really put a clear image in my head, so I hadn''t made the connection, but now that I finally got a good look, this Dixon was almost a spitting image of the man who first got me hooked on Mentats so long ago. The man who sold them to me. The man who encouraged me to keep taking them, long after they started ruining me. That man was responsible for a very, very dark part of my life, filled to the brim with self loathing and hatred. The logical side of my brain knew it couldn''t be him - that was so long ago, and this Dixon... there was physically no way they were the same man. But even if he wasn''t (and how could he be?) this Dixon fuckhead was doing the same thing to who knows how many other people that my old dealer did to me.


    "Hey!" Veronica snapped a finger in front of my face a couple of times, pulling me out of it. "Sheason! You awake?"


    "Yeah, I just... that''s him." I said, pointing right at him. "I think we should have a talk with this asshole."


    As soon as the three of us approached him, he looked us up and down. He took onest draw from his cigarette and flicked it away.


    "Well, hello there," he spoke to Veronica, looking her up and down and licking his lips. "What can I do for <em>you </em>today?"


    "You Dixon?" I asked. He turned his attention to me, and I finally got a decent look at his face. I kind of wish I hadn''t; he had a very eclectic collection of skin diseases.


    "Maybe."


    "We should talk."


    "Alright," he said, still seeming to appraise me. "Step into my office, and we''ll talk." He motioned with his hand to a nearby alleyway. It was between two buildings, and very narrow. He walked in first, and the three of us followed him. When we were well out of sight of the main street, he turned back to us and held open his coat. The inside of it was lined with syringes, pill bottles, and about a dozen Jet inhalers. "You lookin'' for a fix man? I got what you need."


    "I''m not looking for drugs." I stated tly. He closed his coat and sneered at me.


    "You''re not? Then why the fuck are you wasting my time?"


    "I just wanted to know if you''re the man who supplies Bill and Jacob." At that, he loosened up and let out augh.


    "Oh, yeah man! Those cats are out of their domes addicted to my shit. They can''t get enough. It''s pretty hrious to watch."


    "Hrious?" I asked, my voice taking on an unintended hard edge. "What, are you trying to kill your customers?"


    "Pfft," he waved his hand. "They ain''t customers. Those fools are NCR. I just love seein'' those squatters in agony. We were doin'' just fine before those little shits came here and made a mess of things. We don''t need NCR eggheads wandering around confusing things for the rest of us," He looked at the three of us again, and his eyes settled on Arcade - and on the Followers patch on hisbcoat. He pulled a box of cigarettes out of his jacket, and lit another before he spoke again. "What the fuck is this?"


    "I''ll tell you what this is," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "You''re going to stop selling drugs in Freeside, and you are going to get out of town. Right now."


    Dixon just sort of stared nkly at me for a few seconds, cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth. Eventually though, he took a long draw, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and blew a cloud of smoke right in my face. I closed my eyes involuntarily against the stinging cloud of smoke.


    "Fuck off man. This is my city, and I do what the fuck I want. I''m not gonna leave town just because some retard with a doctor and a little girl tell me to. I mean, who''d make me leave anyway? The bitch in the hood?"


    "Exactly," I said. His eyes widened in confusion, and I heard Veronica shift her stance - good. She knew what was going toe next. "Veronica, hold him down."


    "What th-" In a sh of brown and silver, Veronica rushed past me, grabbed Dixon by the throat, and jammed him against the wall. He struggled against her grip, but couldn''t move.


    "Ok, here''s what''s going to happen. And I really hope you''re listening. You have two options: the first is you leave Freeside, and you nevere back. This option lets you keep your slimy parasite life, you pathetic waste of blood and organs. The second is I let Veronica here do whatever she wants to you."


    "And you know what I like to do?" I couldn''t see her face, but I could tell she was smiling as she unwrapped the power fist in front of Dixons face. It let out a gout of steam, and in a sh, she punched the wall right next to his head. The wall - which was ster with brick underneath - splintered like balsa wood where the fist had hit. "I like to <em>punch things</em>."


    "I can''t be certain, but I don''t think you''ll like the second option very much. So. What''ll it be?" I could see him struggle against her grip, and try and choke out words, without actually making any sounds. I just sighed. "Veronica, think you can loosen up a bit? He can''t answer if he can''t breathe."


    "The first one!" he managed to choke out after she loosened her grip. "Fuckin'' a, man! The first one!"


    "Good. Alright, let him go." As soon as she let go, he copsed into a heap and started choking madly, clutching his throat.


    "You''re going to get out of town," I growled at him. "And don''t think you can just hide in a side street and carry on tomorrow. If you don''t leave, I <em>will</em> find out about it. Do you understand me?" He nodded weakly and continued to choke. I turned my attention to Arcade and Veronica. "C''mon. Let''s get out of here."


    The three of us turned around and walked away from the alley. After about a minute, Arcade turned to me and asked "Was that really necessary?"


    "Maybe not," I said with a shrug, sticking my hands in my pockets. "Felt good though."


    "I thought it was funny," Veronica chimed in.


    "Hang on a second," I said, patting the pockets of my jeans.


    "What''s up?"


    "I think I lost my keys somewhere... You guys go on ahead. Veronica, think you can show Arcade to the 38? I''ll catch up a bitter." She nodded, and I watched the two of them walk off towards Las Vegas Boulevard.


    As soon as they were out of sight, I pulled That Gun out from it''s spot in the back of my pants and I headed back towards the alley where we''d left Dixon. The drug dealer was still at the back of the alley when I returned. He''d picked himself up off the ground, and was dusting himself off when he noticed me walking towards him. I don''t think he noticed the hand cannon.


    "Hey, what the fuck, man? I already told you I was going to leave! What the fuck else do you want me to do?" He seemed hostile right up until I got close enough to point That Gun directly at his face. At which point all the color drained from his scabby face, and he held up his hands. "WHOA! Hey! What the hell man!"


    I just kept walking forward, the barrel of That Gun pointed at his forehead. My arm didn''t waver, even in the slightest.


    "I know your type," I finally said. "You say you''ll leave. You say you''ll stop. But you won''t. You can''t. All you know how to do is spread poison, and destroy lives. Giving the poorest, most disadvantaged people the means to slowly kill themselves. A man like you gave me the means, and it nearly destroyed my life thirteen years ago."


    "What... what are you talking about man?" His left eye twitched, and I pressed the barrel of That Gun against his forehead.


    "Give me a reason. Just give me one good reason I shouldn''t put a bullet in your skull right now."


    "I... I..." he stammered, his eyes fixed on That Gun.


    "Times up."

 Chapter 16: Recon

    Chapter 16: Recon


    <em>This is Mr. New Vegas, fanning the mes of your passion. Our top story this hour: Refugees at Bitter Springs are giving startling ounts of the Legate, known as Lanius, who is said to be Caesar''s top fieldmander. One refugee told us that "The Legate took over an ''under-performing'' squad of troops by beating itsmander to death in full view of everyone." The Legate then ordered a tenth of his own troops to be killed by the other nine-tenths. And you thought your boss was a pain. The news this hour has been brought to you by The El Cortez Hotel and Casino: Where localse to y. And now Nat King Cole reminding us what really matters with Love Me as Though There Were No Tomorrow. Because in New Vegas, hey, you never know.</em>


    "Hey, Veronica? Are you doing alright?" I asked Veronica as she, Arcade, ED-E and I made our way down Las Vegas Boulevard, towards the Strip''s front gate. She looked up at me, confused.


    "Huh? Why do you ask?"


    "Well, you''ve just been... quiet, is all. You''ve been pretty quiet ever since we left the fort. Is something wrong?"


    "Oh," she said,prehension dawning on her face. "I''m fine. I''ve just been thinking, that''s all."


    "Thinking about what?" When I asked, she looked over her shoulder at Arcade. ED-E was floating behind the two of us at the front, and Arcade was behind ED-E keeping his distance.


    "About the Brotherhood," she said, keeping her voice low. I guess she didn''t want Arcade to know she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel just yet. Given how he reacted to ED-E, I couldn''t me her. "You can''t help but notice that the Brotherhood barely exists to the people out here. We''re like an urban myth. No real presence on the outside."


    I shrugged. That was true enough. Until Veronica, I''d never met anyone who was a member of the Brotherhood. Or, maybe I had, and I just didn''t know it. If nothing else, I was fairly sure I''d never run into a Pdin - someone in powered armor carrying aser rifle is kind of hard to miss.


    "We just don''t adapt like we should," she continued. "Used to be that all you needed to get your way was a suit of power armor and aser rifle. But now... people are armed and organized. They''re not afraid. But we still stick to our old approaches, because it''s all we know."


    "Sounds like whoever''s in charge is living in the past," I offered. "I mean, I don''t really know, since I don''t know much about the Brotherhood, but it sounds like they''re eventually going to have to change."


    My words reminded me of an old world saying: adapt or die. I don''t know who said it first, but if there was onew in the wastnd that was it. And, ording to Veronica at least, the Brotherhood was refusing to adapt.


    "I think you''re right. I mean, power armor andser rifles are effective - but only if you''ve got bodies to fill the suits. And since we don''t really take on new members, we''re starting to get desperate. If something doesn''t change, then the empty suits are going to be all that''s left of us... and I get the feeling that if I don''t take matters into my own hands, the change won''te in time to make a difference."


    "I''m sure you''ll think of something," I said. "But to be honest, I can''t reallyment one way or another, since I don''t really know too much about the Brotherhood."


    "If you wanted me to tell you about the Brotherhood, all you had to do was ask."


    "Thanks. And I''ll probably take you up on thatter. Now... probably isn''t the best ce to talk about it." She nodded in understanding, looking around at the scenery of Freeside as we walked. "There was one other thing I wanted to ask you, though."


    "Shoot," she said, much more amiable now that she''d apparently gotten that off her chest.


    "How did you know that Arcade was gay?"


    "Lesbian''s intuition?" she said with a shrug.


    When the elevator doors opened to the high roller suite in the Lucky 38, we were greeted by Cass who was leaning against one of the nearby walls.


    "Hey, there y''guys are! I was wonderin'' where y''all had run off to." She said with a smile.


    "You''re looking better," I said. She really did look considerably better, especially given the state we''d left her in this morning. She just shrugged.


    "Well, b''tween Veronica''s hangover cure, sleepin'' it off, an..." she reached behind her and pulled out her sk. "... hair o''the dog that bit me, I''m doin'' fine." She put the sk in her back pocket, and looked at Arcade behind us. ED-E hadn''t taken the elevator, and was likely floating outside one of the windows. "So, who''s the new arrival?"


    "Cass, this is Arcade. Arcade, Cass. He''s a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse." I did my best to get introductions out of the way. Cass nodded at the doctor, and then chuckled when she looked at me.


    "You gotta start collectin'' coins or somethin'', or else we''re gonna run out of space here." She moved her head from side to side, and her neck cracked with several audible pops. I tried not to wince. "So, ready to go?"


    "Wait, what?" I blinked. "Go? I just got back."


    "Well yeah, but earlier y''asked if I wanted to check out th'' other caravan, but I was too hungover. I''m not hungover any more, so I thought we could go''n check it out."


    "Why not?" I sighed, shrugged, and turned to Veronica and Arcade. "So, what are you guys going to do? Either of you two want toe with?"


    "I should probably stay and help Arcade get settled," Veronica replied.


    "I was going to stay and get some food a bitter. It was nice to meet you, though," Arcade said as he started looking around the suite. As soon as he was in the kitchen and out of earshot, Veronica shuffled towards me and spoke up.


    "Besides, I need to figure out a way to break the whole Brotherhood thing to him," she practically whispered under her breath. I nodded. At that moment, I saw Boone exit from his room. He looked... exactly the same as when I''d seen him earlier tonight. He still had his rifle, his revolver strapped to his hip, his knife strapped to his boot, sunsses still on despite being indoors. I swear, he always looked ready to fight.


    "Hey Boone - Cass and I are gonna check out the other sacked caravan. We might need an extra set of eyes. Interested?" I asked. Boone looked at me with his usual stony, emotionless expression.


    "Sorry. I can''te. Something''se up." And that was all he said.


    "Well!" Cass smirked and pped me on the shoulder. "Guess it''s just you''n me then. Just like old times."


    "Old times?" I raised an eyebrow at that. "What, you mean Thursday? A whole two days ago?"


    "Has it only been a couple days?" She asked as the pair of us entered the elevator. "Weird. It''s seemed longer..."


    "So, where exactly is this other caravan... er, what was it called?"


    "Th'' name of th''pany was Griffin Wares. An'' bring up the map on your Pip Boy, I''ll point it out." I pulled up the map on my Pip Boy and showed it to her. She scanned it for about a minute or so as the elevator descended, and finally pointed at the screen. "Here. I think that''s about where it is."


    The spot she pointed to was on route 95, far north of Vegas. The spot was just south of the turnoff to the road that led up to Mt. Charleston; route 156, if the map was urate. If the scale of the map was any indication, then it was roughly 25 miles away... as the crow flies. Which meant we''d definitely need the Corvega to get there and back before nightfall.


    "Alright. Shouldn''t take us too long. But before we head up all that way, there''s something I need to do first." As if on cue, my knee started to re up again. I reached down and rubbed my knee, in a vain attempt to lessen the ache. "I need to get this fucking bullet out of my leg."


    "I can''t believe you''ve been walkin'' around all day on that," Cass said, taking a draw from her sk. We''d just left Usanagi''s clinic, and were now on the road toward the other caravan site. ED-E was zooming around the car keeping pace, as per usual.


    "I can''t believe she charged 300 caps for a single bullet," I grumbled. "I mean, she didn''t even really do anything. It was all the Auto Doc." I hadn''t bothered to get the bullet out of my shoulder. That one didn''t hurt, and I wasn''t going to waste caps fixing something that wasn''t broken.


    "It was behind your kneecap. Besides, it could be worse," Cass shrugged. "I remember hearing about a doctor in Shady Sands who charges at least that much a session, and all he does is talk to people once a week."


    "The hell kind of doctor just talks to people and doesn''t actually fix them?" I asked. "I thought doctors were supposed to patch people up when they got injured." Unsurprisingly, Arcade shifted to the front of my mind since he introduced himself as a ''researcher.''


    "I don''t know," she said, taking another drink. "I think he called himself a psycho-trist or something. Some kind of old world thing, for people who''ve got more money than sense."


    To be honest, I wasn''t focused on what she was saying. I was starting to get a bit worried about how much Cass was drinking. I was no slouch when it came to downing alcohol, and one of the first things I admit is that liquor makes dealing with the wastnd easier. But seeing Bill Ronte earlier, and the sorry state we''d found him...


    "Hey, Cass?" I said after mulling it around my head for a bit. "Do you ever... consider... not drinking? Sometimes?"


    "Say what?" I couldn''t tell if she was more angry or confused. "Where the fuck did thate from?"


    "Well, ok, not actually QUITTING," I said, admittedly backpedaling a bit. "Hell, even I couldn''t just quit drinking entirely. But just... I dunno, going easier?"


    "No... no, not at all," As if to punctuate her point, she took another drink, then looked back at me. "Seriously, where''r you goin'' with this?"


    "I''m just worried about you, that''s all. I mean, it hadn''t escaped my notice that you drank three bottles of scotch, one after another, the same day you found out what happened to your caravan. That would kill most people." I didn''t say it, but a thought lingering in the back of my mind had me wondering if that had been her goal.


    "Like I told ya before, my liver''s indestructible," she said, patting her gut, and shrugging it off somewhat worryingly. "Besides, you don''t have to worry about me drinkin'' paint thinner or anythin'' like that."


    "I don''t?" I asked.


    "Nope. Fer one thing, someone who sinks that low, they got no willpower whatsoever. I drink whiskey ''cuz I like the taste, an'' my moonshine''s not that bad either. But if I don''t have either, I wouldn''t stoop so low as t''drink <em>paint thinner </em>or somethin'' equally toxic, because that''s just stupid, an'' I''m not an idiot<em>. </em>Besides, I''m a high-functioning drunk."


    "Are you now?"


    "Course I am. I''ve never understood it, but I''m much better at math when I''ve had a few drinks. S''one of th'' reasons I was able t''keep my caravan in the ck for as long as I did."


    "Until you switched to transporting water," I offered, remembering one of our previous conversations. "You said it yourself, if you hadn''t switched from whiskey to water, you''d end up with nothing but empty bottles at the end of each run."


    Cass opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but paused, considering what I''d said, and instead just let out a single soft chuckle.


    "Alright then," she said "S''a fair point. Tell you what: if I ever drink as much as I didst night, an'' I get that big of a hangover again, then y''have my permission to beat the shit out''ve me," She paused for a moment, rubbing her chin and looking thoughtful, and then added "An'' I promise that I won''t drink as much ever again after that. That sound like a fair deal?"


    "I''m not going to beat you up, Cass. Not even if you give me permission."


    "Well yeah, but that''s only ''cuz you know you''d lose," Cass said, taking another sip from her sk.


    "No, I''m not going to beat you up because you''re my friend. Besides, I don''t hurt girls," Unless they''re raiders and are threatening to anally vite me with a chainsaw knife and the business end of a broken bottle, but that''s another, rather unpleasant story entirely. All Cass did wasugh.


    "Oh please, yer a man! All I have to do is sh these in yer direction, an'' you''ll turn into a pile of mush on th'' floor," She grabbed her shirt cor as she spoke, and made her chest jiggle rather vigorously - which I only saw out of the corner of my eye, because I was watching the road and was most certainly not staring at her tits.


    "Ok, that might work on me," I conceded. "But I bet you that tactic wouldn''t work on Boone, and I know for a fact that it wouldn''t work on Arcade. Probably wouldn''t work on ED-E either."


    "Well yeah, you''d need a protectron in a bikini to distract th'' eyebot with sexy," she said with augh. That got the two of usughing at the stupid image that conjured up so much, neither of us really noticed when ED-E floated next to the driver''s side window. Granted, we did notice when he started beeping angrily at us.


    "What''s his problem?" Cass motioned with her sk at the robot floating 60 miles an hour sideways next to us as we drove along.


    "I think he heard your crack about the protectron in the bikini," I said, failing to stifle a chuckle. I swear, there''s no way I could say those words in that order with apletely straight face. "It''s entirely possible that you may have made him mad."


    "Maybe it turned him on. I mean, he <em>is</em> a robot, he does have an ''on'' switch," she said with a smirk. I just shook my head.


    "That joke was bad, and you should feel bad," Apparently ED-E agreed, letting out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a guttural growl.


    One of my initial worries about this outing was that Cass was wrong about the location, or that we''d never find it at all. Not that I doubted her or anything, just that she''d only heard about this from hear-say. I was scanning thendscape as we drove along, and it was as deste as anything I''d ever seen. It waspletely t in every direction, with mountains on either side of us off in the distance; we were literally in the middle of nowhere to such an extent that Vegas had disappeared entirely from view.


    Suddenly, the road ahead was no longer t.


    "What is that?" I asked, squinting.


    "I think... that might be th'' caravan," she said, leaning against the dashboard. "I can''t tell, still too far off. Y''have any binocrs?"


    "Yeah, in the glove box." Cass rummaged around in the glove box for a bit before pulling out the binocrs. To this day, I have no idea why she took so long finding them; the binocrs aren''t that small, and the glove box isn''t that big. "So? What do you see?"


    "Oh yeah, that''s definitely th'' caravan."


    A few minutester, I pulled the Corvega to a stop right below a billboard several yards away from the wrecked caravan. I don''t know why, but as I got out of the car, my eyes were drawn to the billboard. It was advertising the Silver Rush, one of the buildings in Freeside. I hadn''t gone inside, but I''d assumed that it was a casino (since everything else in Vegas seemed to be). Since the sign looked like it had been out here before the bombs fell, it probably was a pre-war casino. But judging from the very strategically ced paint that looked rtively new, proiming that it was the "Van Graff''s" Silver Rush, "We sell weapons!" and "Fully charged with no extra charge!" I could probably make an educated guess what it was now.


    I drew myself away from the billboard and walked over to the wreckage of the Griffin Wares caravan. The most obvious piece of detritus littering the site was the massive brahmin skeleton, still hitched up to the front half of a wagon. The back half of the wooden cart had been broken andy in pieces littering the ground. Several boxes were scattered, along with other bits of trash. There weren''t any ash piles like Cass'' caravan, but there was something else that caught my eye - something green. I knelt down and took a look at... well, I honestly had no idea what I was looking at. It was a pile of some kind of semi-solid... well, goo was probably the best word to describe it. I didn''t dare touch it, because it was glowing green slightly, and for all I knew, it was radioactive. It didn''t take me long to figure out what caused it. Discarded nearby was a sma rifle, with several of the tubes running along the side either missing or damaged. I held it up for Cass to see.


    "So, more energy weapons hit this caravan," she said nodding. "ce has been picked clean. This... this is Brotherhood level murder here."


    "Is it?" I asked. Part of me was d Veronica wasn''t here but then I thought about it. Veronica does seem awful quick to jump to violence.


    "Yeah, but they don''t do things like this. They wouldn''t leave somethin'' like that, fer starters. This was done with another purpose," She looked around the caravan site with a much different expression than the one she wore when she was looking at her own caravan. Her eyes didn''t betray any hint of sorrow, not this time; instead, they held a look of fierce determination, and a weird sort of analytical cunning as she scanned the bits and pieces of the wreckage. Perhaps she was able to look at this more objectively now that it wasn''t her caravan. "Let''s poke ''round a bit, see what we can find. Might be a clue somewhere, show us who did this."


    The two of us got to work. Aside from a few discarded and empty energy cells, I didn''t find much of anything else after the pile of goo and the sma rifle. If we had gotten here a few months ago, there probably would''ve been ash piles around as well, but if there had been any, they would''ve been blown away by the wind within the first few days. And judging from the brahmin, and how there wasn''t a lick of meat anywhere on the two headed mutant cow, anything that could''ve been a body would''ve surely been eaten by coyotes already.


    "Hang on, what''s this?" Cass spoke up. I stopped my search and went over to see what she was looking at.


    "Found something?"


    "Yeah, t''was wedged under one of th'' metal boxes over here," She held out a badly faded and yellow piece of paper, and unfolded it so the two of us could see. "Looks like a map."


    "Are you sure?" I asked honestly. The drawing on the paper could have been a map... but of what, I couldn''t tell you. It was very crudely drawn, and just looked like scribbles.


    "Yeah... I think this is supposed t''be Vegas. Look, here''s th'' wall around th'' Strip an'' Freeside, here''s th'' 95, here''s th'' long 15, here''s Hoover Dam an'' Boulder City..." she pointed at several of the scratches, and traced her finger along a couple of the lines as she spoke. I squinted... and could almost make out what she was talking about. The only thing that stood out to me were three X''s drawn in a different color ink than the rest... and then the bottlecap dropped.


    "Wait, hold on - look at these X''s here... if this is the 95, like you said, than this X..." I pointed at the one near the top left of the map "... this X is where we are now."


    "And that X down there must be..." she paused, swallowed hard, and continued "My caravan."


    "But then that must mean the third... there''s another caravan site out there that''s been hit." I said, a grim realization dawning.


    "That''s fucked up - third X is out in th'' middle of nowhere... I wonder if it has anything to do with th'' numbers on th'' bottom of th'' page." That''s when she pointed to a set of chicken scratches near her thumb.


    "Those are supposed to be numbers? It looked like their pen had run out of ink to me." It took me a minute to decipher the horrible handwriting, but eventually I was able to work out that the letters and numbers at the bottom of the page spelled out: N36 8.75'', W115 3.18''.


    "So... do you know what that means?" Cass asked. I shrugged.


    "Fucked if I know. Maybe it''s some kind of technical thing - I bet if Veronica were here, she''d know what it meant. I mean, it''s probably something to do with that third X."


    "Yeah... something''s wrong. I can feel it. We should-"


    I never found out what she was going to suggest we do, because at that moment she was interrupted by a sound like a thunderp setting off an explosion right above our heads. The two of us ducked instinctively, and ED-E let out a series of panicked beeps and flew behind my car for cover. I looked up and saw a sh in the clouds above us, a split second before the clouds split apart like a gaping wound in the sky, making way for something veryrge, very metal, and very on fire hurtling out of the sky and dropping directly at the two of us.


    "Look out!" I yelled above the racket, and without really thinking, I took hold of Cass by the shoulders and urged her away with all my strength just as I started running myself. She didn''t really need much in the way of prompting, and quickly ran out of the iing... whatever it was, and dove behind my car for cover. The ming disk in the sky howled and screeched, and I turned around just in time to see it spin in the air, veer wildly off course, and head off away from us and to the north. A trail of dark smoke hung in the air after it passed overhead, and with a sh and boom like nothing else on this earth, it crashed into the desert just north of us.


    For several minutes, the three of us hid behind my car before anyone said or did anything. Finally, I got up, pulled Roscoe from it''s holster, and checked the clip to make sure it was loaded.


    "What''re you doin?" Cass asked through gritted teeth, getting up from behind my car. I pointed off in the distance, towards the steadily rising cloud of smoke.


    "That thing - whatever it is - just fell out of the fucking sky," I said, holstering Roscoe and moved towards the driver''s side of the car. "And I intend to find out exactly what the hell just damn nearly killed us."


    It didn''t take much to find what I was looking for, and it certainly didn''t take long. All I had to do was follow the trail of smoke, over terrain that could only have been more t if it was a dry saltke. What we found was... not exactly a crater, but close enough. There was a long trail of disced earth where the metal disk had started hitting the ground leading to... whatever it was.


    The ground all around it was still hot and smoldering, and it was still on fire. Of course, when I got out of the car, Roscoe already drawn, I noticed for the first time that the mes weren''t the right color. They burned blue and green rather than orange, and parts of it were spitting sparks randomly. When I caught a glimpse of the clear bubble dome (that was cracked and broken) at one end, the first thing that popped into my head was the kind of cockpit you''d see on an old world jet fighter - the sort of thing I''d only ever seen in holotapes. But this, whatever it was, most certainly wasn''t an aircraft, because it was entirely the wrong shape. It looked more like a tank, but without wheels. But to be perfectly honest, it was shaped like a saucer... but that was just stupid. Saucers don''t fly. Then again, neither do tanks.


    "The fuck is this?" Cass said as she got out of the car. Her shotgun was also at the ready.


    "Don''t look at me," I said, trying to see any more details through the smoke. "ED-E, do you know what this is?" All I got in response was a few frantic sounding beeps, same as before.


    And then I noticed a few of those beeps weren''ting from ED-E... they wereing from my Pip Boy.


    I nced at it quickly, but long enough to see that directly in front of me, obscured entirely by the plume of thick smoke, was something the Pip Boy''s radar had indicated was hostile. So I motioned to Cass and ED-E, and the three of us readied our weapons, hoping to be ready for whatever emerged.


    I''ll tell you right now, I wasn''t ready at all.


    What stumbled out into view from behind the cloud of smoke was... something that was very much not a human. It had two legs, two arms, and a head, but that was where any simrities ended. The creature couldn''t have been more than three or four feet tall, and its limbs were just so skinny and tiny... they almost looked atrophied. The head, on the other hand, was massive and bulbous, with greenish-grey skin, andpletely hairless. Its eyes were huge, andpletely ck; it didn''t look like it had a nose or ears, just holes where they should''ve been, and a tiny slit for a mouth. It looked like it was wearing some kind of full body suit made out of a silvery blue foil, marred and torn, with a weird green liquid staining parts of it. The creature doubled over, and started coughing; when that same green liquid came pouring out of its mouth, I realized it must''ve been blood.


    "What the fuck..." I said aloud. I couldn''t help myself. Ghouls, fine. Super mutants, fine. Giant insects, no problem. But this - this was unlike anything I''d ever seen before!


    Of course, my exmation got the attention of whatever it was. It stopped retching blood, looked up at me, and reached for a gun on its belt. As fast as my body would allow, I dove for the ground. Good thing too, because the... whatever it was, fired at me with that gun. There was a bright sh, a sort of twanging sound (like someone hitting a high tension cable with a wrench), and a blue ball of sma sizzled directly over my head right where I would''ve been. At the same moment, I fired Roscoe, Cass fired her shotgun, and ED-E fired hisser. I don''t know if Cass or I even hit it, but theser struck the creature right smack in the middle of its chest. With a cry that sounded almost like a quack, it fell over backwards and hit the ground with a thud.


    I checked my Pip Boy quickly - no more hostile blips on the radar. So, I got up, dusted myself off, and cautiously made my way to the corpse. Maybe if I got a closer look at it, I''d figure out what it was.


    Getting a closer look at it didn''t in any way help me figure out what it was. In fact, all it did was disturb me. For one thing, its hands were... there were only two fingers and a thumb, and each digit on its fingers were as long as one of my whole fingers. Its eyes were entirely toorge, especiallypared to how small everything else on its face was, and speaking of its face - it had more wrinkles than an eighty year old man.


    The weirdest thing of all was the gun - it was made out of some odd grey-blue metal, and looked like a veryrge egg with one sticking out of one end for the barrel, and another sticking out of the bottom for the handle and trigger. There were three lights running down each side, and another light on the back. The barrel had a few rings right before the end, and the top of the gun had a fin which could have been the sight. It was the strangest looking energy weapon I''d ever seen in my life.


    "Holy fuck," Cass said, shouldering her shotgun as she got a close look at the corpse. "I know what this is."


    "Well, feel free to enlighten me any time, because frankly I got nothing."


    "It''s an alien!" She practically shouted. "It has to be - I mean, look at it! It''s just like those holotapes of the alien autopsy from 300 years ago."


    "An alien," I deadpanned.


    "Yeah, y''know, like the kind that crashed in Roswell. Outer space aliens! UFO''s and flying saucers and government coverups, shit like that. There are tons of holotapes on th'' subject!" Realizing how that must''ve sounded, Cass quickly added "Not that I''ve seen all of ''em, just a couple. Y''know. To pass th'' time."


    "Aliens," I said again, still trying to make sense of the concept. "From outer space."


    I was just about to dismiss the idea aspletely bonkers, but then I took stock of what had just happened: The two of us had nearly been killed by a flying saucer that had fallen out of the sky, it crashed with a sound that was not of this earth, the wrecked flying saucer burned with a fire that didn''t look like fire from Earth, and finally - the cherry on top of the cake - a little green man that was obviously not human in a space suit had shot at me with a ray gun.


    With some measure of regret, I let out a resigned sigh. As absurd as the idea of aliens from outer space inherently was, and in defiance of part of my brain screaming that there must be some other logical rationale, I couldn''t think of anything else that even came close to exining what the hell had just transpired here.


    "When the fuck did my life be so weird?" I said aloud.

 Chapter 17: Back in Your Own Backyard

    Chapter 17: Back in Your Own Backyard


    <em>Empty</em>


    <em>I found myself in the middle of a big, empty desert. It was vast, t, andpletely lifeless as far as I could see. It stretched for miles in every direction. I looked around, trying to find any kind of reference point anywhere on the horizon... but no. There weren''t even any mountains. I''ve been in some deste, inhospitable ces before, but this...</em>


    <em>There was nothing for it. So, I picked a direction and started walking.</em>


    <em>I don''t know how long I had been walking when I started thinking about that drug dealer, Dixon, and thest moment before I killed him. Then I realized that I wasn''t actually remembering this so much as watching it unfold on the desert in front of me as I walked. I saw myself put the gun to his head. I saw myself pull the trigger. I watched as Dixon fell lifeless to the ground. Both Dixon and myself dissolved into sand and disappeared as I continued forward on my trip towards nowhere.</em>


    <em>It made me wonder... why had I killed him? It''s not like he was threatening me. He had said he was going to leave, and I told him that I''d give him at least a day to pack up before I came back. His unintentional and uncanny resemnce to my old dealer brought forth a plethora of spiteful emotions that I''d thought I''d gotten over years ago... or, at least, buried so deep that I didn''t think I''d have to worry about them again. But then those feelings re-emerged, just as strong as the day I got clean, and Ished out at the cause of those emotions, just as violently as I hadshed out at my real dealer so many years ago.</em>


    <em>Had he deserved to die? Maybe, if what Arcade had said about Dixon supplying half of Freeside with chems was true. But should I have been the one to kill him, and like that? Had I really gotten sofortable with murder and numb to the horrors of it over the years that I executed people at the drop of a hat now?</em>


    <em>And that''s when I started thinking: just how many people had I killed over the years? I racked my brain... and I realized I didn''t know for sure. Images shed in my head - and before my eyes on the desert sand - of all the people I''d killed in one way or another. Most of them were so indistinct that they mixed together, and I couldn''t tell one murder from another. The only one that truly stood out from the rest was Benny.</em>


    <em>You wouldn''t think that my job as a courier - someone hired to deliver packages and messages from ce to ce - would garner such a high body count. But the fact is, murder and death are an all toomon fact of life in the wastnd. Life is rtively safer for citizens of the NCR who live in ces like Vault City or Shady Sands, but out in the wastes? If someone born in the wastes has reached their 16th birthday, it''s a safe bet that they''ve killed at least one person - if only to stay alive.</em>


    <em>Involuntarily, I started thinking about the first person I ever killed. I was still travelling and working with the caravan that brought me up. Their names, their faces... I couldn''t make them out. Everything felt like a fading echo. But I remembered the ambush, and watched as it yed out in front of me. No matter how fast I walked or ran, the image was still there in the desert, always in front of my eyes. </em>


    <em>A gang of raiders had set traps in a narrow canyon, waiting for us, and started shooting at the caravan as we passed. The guards fought most of them off, but the raiders were looking for easy prey. They shot at anyone without a gun first, and only after they finished with that did they start shooting the guards. I got scared, so I dove under one of the wagons and yed dead. The bullets tore through the air and the dead began to pile up around me. But I stayed still as a corpse.</em>


    <em>Eventually there was only one caravan guard and one raider left. And then there was me. Everyone else was dead - even the brahmin were dead, either shot on purpose by the raiders just for the hell of it or caught in the crossfire. Thest surviving guard - a girl, dressed in leather armor and barely over 19, I think - had been maimed badly. Both her legs were bloody and mangled, and one of her arms fell limp at her side. She tried to crawl away, but thest raider wasn''t so badly hurt as she was. I watched in stunned paralysis under the wagon, still pretending I was dead, as he picked her up by the neck, and threw her against the canyon wall.</em>


    <em>Growing up in the wastes, one of the first lessons you learn is what raiders do to people they capture. Not because it''s pleasant in any way, but because it''s something you need to know. As thest raider approached her,ughing with an insanely murderous glee, I didn''t know if he was nning to rape her, mutte her body, or tear her apart and eat her. Any or all of those was a possibility... and from the warnings I''d been given, it might not be in that order.</em>


    <em>And that was when I saw the shotgun. </em>


    <em>It was lying discarded on the ground behind him. I moved quickly and quietly, but he wasughing at her so loud that I think he only could''ve heard me if I was banging metal pot lids together. I leveled the shotgun as quick as I could and blew the top of his head off. The corpse teetered on its feet for a few seconds, but eventually gravity won out. The dead raider copsed backwards, spilling blood and brains all over the canyon floor.</em>


    <em>I put down the shotgun and tried to help her - there were a few medical supplies in one of the wagons - but she refused them all. She was too far gone, and she knew it. The amount of blood gushing out of her legs was growing rapidly every second. All she wanted... or, at least, all she asked... was for me to hold her. She told me that she didn''t want to die alone.</em>


    <em>Half an hourter, she stopped breathing. It was another hour before I let her go. Two hours after that, I finally stopped crying. I never learned her name.</em>


    <em>I was 12 years old.</em>


    I woke from my bed with a start, positively dripping with sweat. Another nightmare. Of course. I checked the time on my Pip Boy: it was almost 9 in the morning.


    "Well, that''s better," I said aloud, hacking to loosen up the gunk in my throat. "At least my stupid brain had the decency to wait until I''d finished sleeping before waking me up with a nightmare..."


    "Has anyone seen Boone?" I called out a few hourster. I had been looking around the suite, trying to find him, but he was nowhere to be found. I''d checked his room, because I hadn''t seen him since Saturday; to my surprise, his room was as pristine as the day we''d all entered. The bed looked like it hadn''t even been slept in. Hell, it didn''t look like he''d used the room at all.


    "Say what now?" Cass poked her head out of what I had started calling the game room: it was a room with a couch, two easy chairs, a television (off, andpletely useless), a pool table, two dart boards, and a poker table in the corner.


    "Who''s missing?" Veronica walked out of the kitchen, Nuka C in hand.


    "I''m looking for Boone," I said looking in the kitchen. "Have either of you seen him?"


    "Didn''t he say somethin'' came up yesterday?" Cass asked, leaning against the doorframe to the game room.


    "Are you guys talking about the guy in the red beret?" I heard Arcade''s voice sound from within the game room. Cass, Veronica and I all stuck our heads in the door. Gannon was sitting in one of the easy chairs, reading what looked like a medical journal.


    "Yeah, that''s Boone," I said with a nod, but something connected in my head. "Have you not met him yet?"


    "Not really. He departed down the elevator very shortly after you and Miss Cassidy left for the caravan site yesterday. I haven''t seen him since, and he didn''t really introduce himself when I arrived." I was starting to get seriously worried now. Boone was a crack shot, but even I knew he was fucked in the head. A few days (at the very least) of not sleeping, and being missing all night,bined with a room that he obviously didn''t use... that wasn''t a goodbination.


    At that moment, ED-E zoomed into the game room through one of the open windows. He beeped frantically, and the three of us standing in the door jumped out of his way as he flew inside. Arcade red at the robot, and went back to reading.


    "I don''t suppose you know where Boone is, do you?" I asked the floating eyebot, half joking. What I got in response was ED-E bobbing up and down in ce, like he was nodding his head... and then something really surprising happened. My Pip Boy beeped at me, and I looked at the screen. It waspletely nk, except for one single word:


    Follow.


    And with that, ED-E zoomed back into the game room, right over Arcade''s head and back out the window to the outside.


    "Th'' fuck was that about?" Cass asked, tipping her hat up with her thumb as she watched the robot leave. I lifted my Pip Boy so she and Veronica could see the message ED-E had sent me.


    "Well, that''s certainly direct," Veronica said with a smirk. "So... are we?"


    "I''ll go warm up the Corvega," I said with a nod. "Cass, youing?"


    "Of course. I gotta get th'' fuck outta here anyway. Gettin'' antsy."


    "What about you, Arcade?" I called into the game room as Cass and Veronica got into the elevator. "You gonna put down the book and join us?"


    "As tempting as it may be to leave this tomb, I think I''ll... give it a miss, this one," Arcade said, barely looking up from his medical journal.


    "You''re staying put because you''d have to follow ED-E, aren''t you." It wasn''t really a question.


    "It''s entirely possible that''s the reason, yes," He wrote down some notes on a nearby piece of paper. "Have fun searching for the handsome man in the red beret."


    I knew ED-E was capable of considerable speed, since he was able to keep up with my Corvega over thest few days... but to be honest, I never realized until that day just how fast he could go. As soon as we got clear of Freeside''s east gate, ED-E really put the hammer down. I was having trouble keeping up with <em>him</em>! The eyebot was zooming around, darting in and out of the ruins of broken neighborhoods, and even waiting for me to catch up in ces.


    Don''t get me wrong - my car isn''t slow. I''ve gotten it up to 165 miles an hour before. On the other hand, it weighed just under two and a half tons, and that was without passengers or anything in the trunk (and it always has stuff in the trunk). Because the suspension was built for rough terrain and not cornering, I needed a very t, empty stretch of nothing to get it up that fast. And because ED-E could fly, the sharp corners he was making didn''t really affect him in the least.


    "So where do you suppose he''s taking us?" Veronica asked from the passenger seat. On the way to the car, she''d called shotgun; I half expected Cass to fight her for it, but she just shrugged, got in the back, stretched out, and tilted her hat forward over her eyes.


    "I have no idea," I said honestly. "I mean, hell, I''m still trying to work my head around how he sent a message to my Pip Boy."


    "Well, sending a message to a Pip Boy isn''t that difficult," Veronica replied. "It''s a handy bit of kit, and it''s able to send and receive highly encrypted messages with ease. If ED-E has any kind of wireless transmitter, sending a message would be child''s y."


    "I suppose you know how to send a message to a Pip Boy, right?" She nodded. "Was that something you learned in the Brotherhood?"


    "Sort of," she shrugged. "I learned it from Father Elijah."


    "Father Elijah... You''ve mentioned him before, haven''t you?" I asked. She nodded again. "Was he your dad?"


    "No," she shook her head. "Father is a title. He wasn''t my dad, but he did look after me after my parents passed. Elijah was our chapter Elder when we came East. I learned a lot from him. I would say he was my tutor, but that doesn''t really cover it. The whole chapter brought me up, really, but he made sure of it. I never had a grandfather - not that I knew, anyway - but Elijah was what I''d imagine a grandfather to be."


    "So, you followed him from California then?" I asked, remembering herment from the other day about how she was from California.


    "It was by his request, actually. He cleared it with the other Elders... somehow. They sent him East to look into the Hoover Dam," She paused, her ever present smile fading somewhat. She looked off in the distance away from me, and her voice took on a slightly mncholy air. "There was a time when I''d have begged to follow... watch him at work."


    "I''m guessing something changed?" I asked.


    "He did," she said, doing her best to keep her voice level. "For years, he fought with the Council of Elders. Taught me to question our direction... but he''d be more out-of-touch than all of them. The Brotherhoods'' interest is in old technology, and he wanted to explore developing new tech. There were other ways he wanted to push... other weapons, with ethics questions attached. Rather than deal with him, they just sent him East. On our way to the Dam, he demanded we stop at HELIOS One to examine it. While we were there, our scouts reported that the NCR had taken the Dam. He was furious... called it ''children ying with a bomb.'' But he was mad because we''d lost its power. What we''d use it for... he didn''t care."


    "Forgive me for asking this," I said, scratching my head. "But how is that different from how any other Elder would''ve reacted? I''m still a bit iffy on some of the details about the Brotherhood."


    "Other Elders are cautious," she said. "When they discover something, they respect it, learn its limits, consider how to preserve it. It used to drive Father Elijah crazy. He liked to learn limits too, but only so he could push them. I mean... that''s not to excuse the other Elders - they all covet technology for its own sake. Some are just more..." she paused, searching for the right word. "...fanatical than others."


    "Did you ever try and talk some sense into him?"


    "Yeah... once." She cleared her throat. "He... I couldn''t help him. He just didn''t listen. And the idea that people talked back to him... If he could have made the Brotherhood act like machines, ordering them around with the push of a button, he would have. Even so, I still learned a lot from him."


    "So..." I chose my words carefully, realizing this was probably a tender subject. "What did you learn?"


    "I learned what I don''t want to be," she said, her voice taking on a mournful edge, wavering slightly. "In the end, there was just him and his vision... Nothing and no one else."


    The two of us sat in the car in silence for a while. The only real noise (aside from the engine) was Cass softly snoring in the backseat. Finally, I decided to break the silence.


    "So what happened?"


    "He disappeared."


    "Disappeared?" I asked. She nodded.


    "Yeah. Last time anyone saw him was in the battle at HELIOS One. I wasn''t there. He gave orders to hold the nt until it could be reactivated. But he ran out of time, and the NCR overran it. Everyone thought he was dead... but then I got a note from him at am station. That''s... how he liked to talk, even to me. He wasn''t really good at face to face."


    "So what was in the note?"


    "It... it was strange. Even for Father Elijah. As much as it pains me to say it, he''s always been unstable, but this was something else entirely. I don''t want to say he was delusional, but I don''t know what else to call it. The only thing familiar about it was the signature."


    "Signature? What, like signing a piece of paper kind of signature?"


    "No, no," she shook her head. "I mean like a radio frequency kind of signature. He always used a specific kind of radio frequency and a unique kind of dual encryption that I''ve never seen anyone else use. That''s how I knew it was actually sent from him. He said the Brotherhood was doomed, and that he''d return to save us. But the way he said it... I don''t know... He said he''d return with one of the greatest treasures of the Old World, make the Mojave like it was meant to be... wipe the te clean..."


    ED-E came to a stop a few miles south-east of Vegas, in a ce my Pip Boybeled as Henderson. I pulled the Corvega to a stop at the edge of an intersection, and checked the map on my Pip Boy - we were about 7 or 8 miles away from the 188 Trading Post. I nudged Cass awake, and the three of us left the car.


    It didn''t take all that long to find out why ED-E had led us here. ED-E was hovering close to a copsed building that looked like it might have been some kind of shop before the war, but was now abandoned... except for the four Legion corpses littering the ground. Cass let out a low whistle.


    "Damn... what''cha think happened here?" she said, nudging a foot of one of the Legion soldiers with the barrel of her shotgun. I knelt down and looked at the bodies closely. They looked fairly fresh - probably dead for less than a day. Three of them were dead from bullet wounds: one in the head and two in the chest for each. Thest one, on the other hand, had not been shot, but instead had a veryrge knife buried up to the hilt in the middle of his chest, as well as arge gash across his throat.


    "Boone happened here," I felt like I was stating the obvious.


    Thest dead Legionary was sitting up against the wall - and that was when I realized: the bodies had been arranged, and weren''t lying where they died. I took a closer look at the knife, and tried to carefully pull it out. It was a bit stuck, so I really had to yank it free.


    "What are you doing?" Veronica asked, leaning down. I showed the knife to her and Cass.


    "It''s Boone''s bowie knife," I said. "It still has the blood on the hilt from that super mutant he killed the other day."


    "I guess this was the something that came up," Veronica said with a chuckle.


    ED-E flew around our heads, he beeped at me, and so did my Pip Boy. A different message shed on the screen:


    Fly Far Fly Fast.


    We followed the eyebot as he flew along, just above the highway. We went past the 188, turned south on highway 95, and kept going. I saw the giant T-Rex of Novac approach in the distance, and at first I thought that''s where we were heading... but then just as we got to the intersection where Novac sat, ED-E veered left, and went east down 165.


    "Whoa!" Cass yelled, clutching her hat, sliding across the backseat and into one of the doors. "Easy there, sunshine! Little warning''d be nice!" It''s entirely possible that I <em>may</em> have jerked the car just a little too violently, trying to get onto the on ramp and avoiding one of the rusted wrecks partially blocking the entrance.


    "Hey, don''t me me, me the flying robot zooming around at a million miles an hour, changing directions at the drop of a hat!" I was suddenly d Arcade wasn''t in the car , and I wasn''t entirely sure why.


    "He''s probably only doing 90," Veronica chimed in helpfully.


    "Thank you, V, I was merely exaggerating for effect." I said with a sigh.


    We followed ED-E for only 5 minutes after the turn before we came across a single solitary figure walking along the road. Even before I saw the red beret and the rifle slung across his back, I knew it was Boone. There was no one else it could''ve been. ED-E came to a stop and hovered in the air above him, and when he heard the Corvega approaching, Boone stopped and turned towards us.


    "Hey stranger," I said, bringing the car to a halt less than two feet away from him. I grabbed his bowie knife off the dashboard, and handed it to him hilt first. "You dropped your knife a few miles back. Need a lift?"


    "How''d you find me?" He asked, his face expressionless as he took the knife and put it back in its sheath. I pointed to the sky, and he looked up at ED-E, who merely beeped happily.


    "So, what''re ye doin'' out here?" Cass asked, leaning out the back window.


    "Just some business," He looked down the road, off in the direction he was walking before we caught up with him. "Didn''t think it concerned you."


    "Yeah..." I nodded. "Maybe it doesn''t. But you helped me deal with my unpleasant business of finding Benny, and dealing with him. Only seems fair that I''d offer to help with yours. You know we''re your mates. All you ever needed was to ask."


    "There''s no caps for this business. That''s why I didn''t mention it," he said, continuing to stare off in the distance. "The only thing on offer is dead Legionaries." He turned to look at me. "Is that going to be a problem?"


    "That''s not a problem," I said with a smirk. "That''s a solution." Boone returned the smirk, and chuckled softly.


    "Damn right," He said. "You and me, we''re just a couple of problem solvers." And with that, he got in the backseat.


    "So, where are we going?" I asked as I put the car back in gear.


    "A small town just up the road," Boone pointed needlessly. "Nelson."


    I remembered that name. I''d heard it only a few days before, thest time we were in Novac - Manny mentioned it right before all that nonsense at REPCONN:


    <em>Caesars Legion? They''ve been taking territory just east of here. Last I heard, they took Nelson. If we if I let our guard down, even for a minute, they might attack. All it takes for the Legion is for them to sense weakness.</em>


    "What''s in Nelson?" Veronica asked.


    "Legion camp," Boone replied. "Used to be NCR, till the raiding parties pushed them back. Now, most of the troops are at Forlorn Hope, about a mile and a half north."


    "So, why are we going to Nelson?" I asked. "You know, just out of morbid curiosity."


    "I got a call yesterday morning on my emergency radio," Boone reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a surprisinglypact radio, holding it high enough for me to see it in the rear view mirror. "It was from Ranger Andy."


    "Who?" Cass asked.


    "Retired NCR ranger, living in Novac. He took my shift in the dinosaur''s mouth so I could leave. He''s a decent shot, and has been looking to prove he''s not useless thest few months."


    "Why?" asked Veronica. "Just ''cause he''s retired?"


    "No. His leg is crippled. He was wounded in action several years ago against Legion. They use child soldiers, because they know we''ll hesitate. The kid had a grenade." Boone said grimly. "He called me because he''s seen increased Legion patrols thest two nights,ing from Nelson. And since I''m not stuck in the dinosaur''s mouth anymore, would I be able to help?"


    "Well, I hope the n to help isn''t just ''storm into Nelson and kill every Legionnaire we see until we''re dead," I said, hoping - praying - in the back of my mind that wasn''t Boone''s n. His silence wasn''t exactlyforting. I added quickly "That isn''t the n, right?"


    "No," He said, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Andy told me to talk to a Ranger Milo before doing anything. He''s manning a roadblock on the 165, just outside the town."


    Roadblock was a bit of an understatement.


    There were sandbag barricades stretching far beyond the road to the edge of a nearby ridge, bunkers and watch towers built out of scrap metal, an old world deuce-and-a-half with the two-headed bear of the NCR painted on the doors parked a few yards from the road, and at least half a dozen NCR soldiers that I could see.


    When I pulled the car off to the side of the road, an NCR Ranger approached. This guy didn''t look like a cowboy, with a Stetson, sunsses, and a kerchief a around his neck like the other rangers I''d seen at the Mojave Outpost; this man looked like a real soldier. The olive drab colored armor he wore looked like it was made out of the same kind of ceramicposite material that made old worldbat armor resistant to small arms fire. It certainly looked sturdier than the flimsy padding the rest of the NCR soldiers were wearing. Perched atop his head was a broad-brimmed felt hat with a high crown, pinched symmetrically at four corners - a campaign hat, I think is what it''s called. He had a lever action rifle in his hands and at the ready as he walked towards me. The only thing about him that didn''t immediately say "military" to me was his very impressive ck beard he wore on his face.


    "Hold up there," he said, holding up a hand to me as I got out of the car. "This area is locked down by the NCR military until we can dislodge those Legion snakes from Nelson. I''m afraid you''re going to have to leave this controlled area."


    "It''s alright," Boone said, stepping out of the backseat. "They''re with me. You''re Ranger Milo, right?" The ranger looked at Boone appraisingly.


    "I am. Who are you?"


    "My name is Craig Boone. Ranger Andy up at Novac should''ve called to let you know I wasing."


    "Ah..." Milo nodded slowly, realization dawning as he finally noticed Boone''s red beret. "Yeah, Andy called earlier and said something about sending some help. Didn''t think he''d get a First Recon soldier to help me out."


    "Former First Recon," Boone replied simply.


    "Still, your skills would be useful right now. You were at Bitter Springs when First Recon was sent there, right?"


    "I was in a lot of ces with First Recon," Boone said, stone-faced and with a well rehearsed response. "I don''t really remember."


    "So what''s the problem with the Legion?" I asked, trying to find out just what we were supposed to do. Milo turned to me and scoffed.


    "Hell, what <em>ain''t</em> the trouble with the Legion. A few Legion squads jumped the camp in Nelson while the troopers were setting up. Captured a bunch of gear and took the town. Couple of troopers too - got ''em crucified down near the center of town."


    Images of Nipton shed in my head - heads on pikes, bodies nailed to telephone poles stuck in the ground like crosses, a body burning on a pile of tires.


    "There any way we can help?" I heard Cass say from the other side of the car. Milo justughed.


    "If you had a few dozen doses of Psycho on you, maybe we could pep these weepy troopers into charging down into Nelson and taking back the camp. I can''t order them down - Rangers are a different branch, so I don''t have authority - but these boys are as green as a Super Mutant''s backside, and they''d probably start crying as soon as they saw the hostages get so much as a bruise. They don''t have the stomach for it. So, I guess I''ll have to settle for Boone helping me take out the Legion''s trooper hostages."


    Boone stiffened almost imperceptibly, but remained impassive. I think I was the only one who noticed.


    "Take ''em out?" Cass blurted out. "You mean kill ''em? Why?"


    "It''s a dirty game the Legion likes to roll out whenever they get a chance. The troopers won''t go down into the camp with theirrades at risk. Problem is, Ranger Milo doesn''t want to y. If we take out the hostages, they''ve got squat for leverage."


    "Can''t we rescue them?" I asked. I looked to Boone. His face remained expressionless.


    "Back at ''Ranger School,'' they taught us not to run headlong into battle when you''re outnumbered ten to one," Milo said. "You want to go down there and try to haul those crippled boys off those poles? You''re dumber than you look. As soon as we clear out the hostages, they lose their advantage. They''re down in a clearing, crucified on some telephone poles. I can cover you from the ridge with Carmine," he hefted his rifle, letting me know what he was talking about. "Just make it quick. These boys should be put out of their misery, not plinked to death with some old varmint rifle."


    The four of us stood next to my car as the ranger walked away towards the ridge. ED-E hovered close by and beeped. We all looked to Boone - this was his fight. We were just along for the ride.


    "So," I said to him. "What''s the n, boss?"


    Boone was silent for a very long time. Even ED-E stayed silent, allowing Boone time and silence to think. Eventually, he turned to me, gazed at me from behind those sunsses of his, and spoke up with a fierce determination in his voice that could melt steel.


    "To hell with mercy killing. We''re getting those men out of there."


    Nelson was a lot smaller than I was expecting. There were less than ten buildings on the other side of the ridge, and only two dirt roads just off the broken paved road trying to pass for a highway. There were two guard towers like the ones built at the roadblock - one at each end of the town - and I could see two Legionaries standing guard at the closest.


    Two muffled gunshotster, they fell.


    "Let''s go," I said. The group of us crouched low to the ground, approaching slowly and as silently as we could towards the town... all of us except ED-E, who was flying around, keeping watch high above us. By the time we got between one of the buildings, something began nagging at the back of my mind - where were all the Legion troops? I had been checking my Pip Boy''spass, but aside from the two in the guard tower, there weren''t any nearby.


    When I turned the corner, I finally saw the NCR troopers. There were three of them, crucified on telephone poles and facing one another. The tform where the telephone pole crosses were nted was surrounded by sandbags and piles of tires. Based on where they were and the buildings surrounding them, I could tell why Milo hadn''t just shot them already - there wasn''t a clear line of sight from the ridge to this part of the town. Which also meant he couldn''t cover us.


    And that was when everything went to hell.


    "Profligate interlopers!" I heard a voice shout. On the other side of the tform where the troopers were crucified, a Legion soldier had spotted me. He drew a crude machete from his belt and rushed towards us; I took aim with Roscoe and he yelled again. "Die, in the name of Ca-"


    There was an explosion of blood from his neck, and he toppled backwards before he could finish. Boone rushed past me, the barrel of his rifle still smoking. The rest of us followed him towards the tform.


    "C''mon, we gotta get these boys cut down!" He said, tossing me the machete, and pulling out his own bowie knife. I could hear bells start to ring all around, and indistinct voices shouting orders. Even worse, I heard the sounds of dogs barking, and getting closer.


    I got a close look at the nearest crucified soldier, and breathed a sigh of relief: they hadn''t been nailed to these crosses. There were only a few pieces of rope around each wrist and their feet. A few quick hacks with the machete, and the nearest NCR trooper was free. The soldier I''d helped down - a ck man who looked barely out of his teens -tched onto me.


    "Are... are you for real?" he asked. He shook visibly as he spoke. I nodded, and turned to my friends. Between the four of us, we were able to get all three of them down. I could see the Legion troops starting to rush towards us from all sides. Boone had started firing the moment thest soldier had been freed, and already the mob was thinning out considerably.


    "We gotta get out of here," I said, helping the trooper back onto his feet. He didn''t fall over, so that was a good sign. "Cass, Veronica - lead these guys back up the ridge to the checkpoint. Boone and I will draw their fire and cover your escape." The two of them nodded, leading the soldiers back the way we came. Boone reloaded his rifle. I knelt down, took aim with Roscoe, and let VATS work its magic as the two of us started firing into the advancing Legion troops. ED-E zoomed down from the sky and started firing hisser at them as well.


    These Legion soldiers were dressed in salvaged sports equipment and leathers, and most of theming at us were armed with little more than machetes. Boone and I (mostly Boone, I admit) had already killed a total of eight Legionaries and three dogs. If we were fighting raiders, like Vipers, Jackals, or even Khans, and that many of their number had been killed by two men, the rest of them would''ve scattered. The remaining Legion soldiers paid no attention to casualties, and rushed at us with a seemingly suicidal overconfidence.


    The sight was unsettling, I admit. But it didn''t really help them against a First Recon sniper with unnatural uracy, a flying robot with a military gradeser, and a pissed off courier with a 9mm and VATS.


    Boone fired onest time, and thest Legion trooper fell. Nelson was silent for a minute or two. I looked around and mentally took stock: all together, we''d killed sixteen Legion troops and six dogs. The smell of death hung in the air.


    "Let''s get out of here before more Legion troops arrive," I said to Boone. He nodded, and turned to leave, but stopped, and turned back to me.


    "Mercy killing is ast resort. d you recognized we had options."


    "I have to admit, I didn''t think you could do it," Milo said as Boone and I returned to the NCR checkpoint. The three soldiers we''d helped off the crosses were sitting on the back of the deuce-and-a-half, getting looked after by a medic. "Guess that makes me the sap and you the hero."


    "If you want to thank anyone, thank Boone. He did most of the killing," I shrugged.


    "Still... thanks," He shook my hand, and I walked away, back towards my car. I didn''t know where Veronica or Cass had run off to, but Boone was sitting on the hood of my Corvega, cleaning his rifle. He looked deep in thought, like he wasn''t even really paying attention to what he was doing.


    "Hey. You doin'' alright?" I asked.


    "Mercy killing is expected of NCR snipers," he said, not even looking up from his task. "The Legion likes to torture their prisoners within sight of NCR positions. We get called on to end it. I''ve had my share..." He sighed, and stopped cleaning his rifle. "Some of them, you think, maybe you could''ve gotten them out," He finally looked up at me. "Maybe it''s not the Legion that got them killed. Maybe it''s your orders and you following them."


    There was something in the inflection of his words... something in the way he spoke about mercy killing that made me wonder, and start to put pieces together in my head. So I took a gamble.


    "Boone," I sat down next to him on the hood of my car. "I think it''s time you told me what really happened to your wife."


    "I don''t see what that helps," He growled. "She''s dead."


    "I just... I feel like it''s important. And the better we understand each other, the more effective we''ll be."


    He let out a sigh heavy enough to be made of lead. He swallowed hard, and began to nod slowly.


    "All right... here it is. She... I tracked her down. Southeast, near the river. They were selling her. Saw it through my scope. Whole ce swarming with Legion. Not like here - there were hundreds of them. Bidding for things no man has a right to. I just had my rifle with me. Just me, against all of them, so..." His voice started to waver, and he locked his jaw up topose himself. He looked away from me when he spoke next.


    "I took the shot."


    The two of us sat in silence for a minute or two. I shook my head - I''d been expecting something like that, to be honest, but it was still awful. I tried to think of something to say, to be a good friend. Or at least a decent human being.


    "You did the right thing," I said finally. "It''s a horrible situation, but it''s better to die than live as a ve."


    "Yeah," his voice was gruff - more than usual. "What they do to women... that''s worse than death. There was no choice in what I did. No decision. It was more like... being forced to watch something you can''t stop. I was meant to pull that trigger. It was a mistake to think I could escape it. You take out a debt, it''s only a matter of time before someonees collecting. Things just finally caught up with me."


    That was surprisingly more philosophical than I was expecting from Boone. I furrowed my brow and looked at him questioningly.


    "You make it sound like your wife''s death was inevitable."


    "It was gonna be something. If I''d never met Ca, it would''ve been something else. I should''ve never gotten close to her," He turned to me, and I finally caught a glimpse of his eyes from behind his sunsses... and it was like he wasn''t really seeing me. It was like he was seeing beyond. They were tired, and cold, and empty - the eyes of a man who had seen way too much way too often. "I''ve got bad thingsing to me. You''d better keep your distance, too."


    "That''s the second time you''ve told me you have bad thingsing to you," I said, remembering his words from the other night. "Why?" He looked away and back towards the horizon.


    "Because fair is fair."


    "What, you''re not going to tell me?"


    "No. Sorry."

 Chapter 18: The Calm Before the Storm

    Chapter 18: The Calm Before the Storm


    <em>Wee back,dies and gentlemen. This is Mr. New Vegas. Time for some news. I''ve just received a report that the NCR g has been hoisted over former Legion outpost Nelson after several days of heavy fighting. Unconfirmed reports indicate, however, that the bulk of the Legion upying force was wiped out by a small group of heavily armed civilians, but themander of Camp Forlorn Hope is denying that im. Either way, NCR officials are calling this a big win for troop morale. Today''s headlines were brought to you by the Tumbleweed Club: Rest your spurs and rx in Freeside. And now, I''d like to y one of my very favorite songs for you: it''s Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash.</em>


    "I''m sure you''re all wondering why I called you in here this morning," I said with my arms folded behind me, walking into the kitchen. Cass, Boone, Veronica, and Arcade were all sitting around the table, and they all looked up from their food when I spoke up.


    "Uhh..." Cass still had a spoon hanging out of her mouth. "Not really. S''breakfast, an'' we''re all hungry."


    "Either way," I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. "I think it''s time I told you all about the job."


    "The job?" Arcade asked.


    "Yes. The job. The big one. The one House has hired me - and by extension, all of you - to carry out. Remember?" I said. Arcade just shrugged.


    "I guess today''s as good a day as any," Arcade went back to eating his omelet. "I mean, it''s Monday, isn''t it?" Cass chuckled to herself.


    "You are in the house of Elrond, and it is ten o''clock in the morning. On October the 24th, if you want to know," Cass said aloud, with surprising rity andck of slurred speech. She looked up from her bowl of sugar bombs and was greeted by a table of nk stares... well, nk stares from everyone except Arcade.


    "Who the hell is Elrond?" I asked, seriously confused. Veronica shrugged.


    "Don''t look at me, I don''t know what she''s talking about."


    "Nev''rmind..." Cass grumbled and went back to her cereal.


    "And here I thought I was the only one who read those books," Arcade nodded at her with a smile. I just shook my head, and pulled the tinum Chip out of my pants pocket.


    "Look, we''re getting off topic," I set the chip on the table with an audible thunk, just to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Here''s the deal: House has hired me to take this chip to a bunker at Fortification Hill. And we need to put our heads together and figure out the best way to approach this."


    "Hang on," Arcade put a hand up, and looked at me over his sses. "Fortification Hill? This is the same Fortification Hill where Caesar has set up shop, correct?"


    "Yes. Yes it is," I said, nodding.


    "Well, this certainly exins why you didn''t want to tell us right away," Veronica took a sip of Nuka C after she spoke.


    "Forgive me," Arcade pushed his sses back up the bridge of his nose. "But I don''t really wish to y the Virgil to your Dante."


    "It''s not like the n is to head up there for tea with Caesar, Arcade," I said with a scowl. "Thest thing House wants is for the Legion to take the dam and conquer the Mojave."


    I remembered my chat with House from a few nights ago: <em>"If the Legion defeats the NCR at Hoover Dam, or if General Oliver''s ''Tunnel Vision'' strategy, by some miracle, manages to defeat the Legion... let''s just say that both scenarios would be bad for business, Mr. Fisher. I can''t let either the NCR or the Legion win on their terms..."</em>


    "I thought the whole reason you were talking with us was because you didn''t have a n." Veronica said, resting her chin on her hands.


    "Not... as such, no," I admitted. "But then, aplete and utterck of a n didn''t really stop me from killing Benny, did it?" I smirked, trying to y it off like I really did know what I was doing. Veronica thought a minute, and seemed to concede the point with a shrug. Arcade, on the other hand...


    "You know, I wasn''t there, so I only know about what happened at the Tops from what you told me. But I can tell you now, dealing with Benny and the Chairmen is going to be a cakewalkpared to Caesar''s Fort, if even half the stories I''ve heard about the Legion are true. But more to the point - how are we going to get there? As far as I know, the only way into Caesar''s Fort is by crossing Hoover Dam, and the NCR has the mother of all blockades built to prevent anyone from going in oring out of the Arizona side."


    "I admit, that''s a bit of a problem. I haven''t quite worked out how we can even <em>get</em> to the Fort, much less get inside..." I stroked my chin - force of habit from when I had a much fuller beard. Stroking your chin in thought doesn''t really have the same feel when it''s only stubble.


    "I know how we can get there." It was the first time Boone had spoken up today, and everyone turned to look at him. His face remained impassive behind his sunsses.


    "Cottonwood Cove."


    I checked the map on my Pip Boy. Cottonwood Cove was a small port, about 13 and a half miles east of Searchlight, and quite a ways south of Hoover Dam... and the only way to get to the Arizona side without crossing the dam itself was by boat, traveling who knows how many miles upriver. Looking at it, it made sense. If the NCR had been fortifying the coast, but didn''t have the manpower topletely cover everywhere, then Cottonwood Cove would be the perfect Legion staging area: easy ess to both coasts by river, but far enough out of the way as to not be noticed.


    "Are you sure?" I asked. Boone simply nodded.


    "I''m sure. If you can get me to Cottonwood Cove, I can get us to The Fort."


    After breakfast, nearly everyone left to run errands around Freeside and The Strip. I couldn''t really me them. I promised Boone that we''d all head to Cottonwood Cove tonight to scout it out - and if the opportunity presented itself, sneak into the Fort. I figured that it wouldn''t hurt to have a little extra firepower (and possibly some actual armor) just in case things went sideways. Which is why I was leaving for an errand of my own.


    I was in the elevator and Veronica jumped in just as the doors were about to close, throwing herself against the back wall with a dull thud of metal against metal.


    "You know, if you''d asked I would''ve held the door open for you. There is a button for that." She just shrugged.


    "Well, I''m quick enough, so you didn''t need to. You''re heading to the Gun Runners, right?" I nodded. "Mind if I tag along?"


    "Sure," I pressed the button to take us to the casino floor. "Maybe you can tell me about the Brotherhood on the way there."


    "Yeah, well, it pays like ass, but it''s hard to get other work with my skill set," she smirked as the elevator descended. "What do you want to know?"


    "I suppose the first thing I''m curious about - have you told Arcade yet?"


    "Ah-heh..." She looked sheepish. "Not... yet."


    "You know you''re going to have to tell him eventually."


    "I know, I know, it''s just that..." Veronica shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I wouldn''t have told anybody yet if you hadn''t figured it out the other night. Hell, Boone hasn''t said a single word to me since The Tops."


    "Boone hardly speaks to anyone," I tried to reassure her. "What does that have to do with anything?" The elevator doors opened, and the two of us walked towards the front door of the Lucky 38.


    "He''s NCR, through and through. A blind man could see it in a minute. It''s why he still wears that beret - he isn''t in the army anymore, but he''s a believer. He believes in the cause, and in the will of the NCR to control the wastnd." The two of us walked around the Lucky 38 to the underground garage, towards where my Corvega was parked.


    "I ask again," I said. "What does that have to do with anything?"


    "The NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel have been at war for decades," she stated simply. "Do you remember how I said my parents were killed? They died in a battle against the NCR years ago. I don''t remember what they were killed trying to defend... I guess it seemed important at the time..." she trailed off for a moment, but shook it away and continued. "The point is, Boone is NCR to the core. And to the NCR, the Brotherhood is an enemy."


    "Do you think he''s going to cause problems because you''re Brotherhood and he''s NCR?" I asked.


    "Look, I just want to make sure there won''t be any trouble from Arcade if... when I tell him," she sighed. "To be frank, I''m not all that worried about Boone. He''s more focused on fighting Legion than worrying about me, I think. I''m more worried that the NCR is going to be the death of the Brotherhood. They take what they want. We defend our interests to the death. But there''s a handful of us, and tens or hundreds of thousands of them. So it''s not going to end well."


    "Nothing ever ends well in the wastnd," I mused, thinking about Boone''s words from yesterday. Veronica continued.


    "Last time the Brotherhood and NCR shed, we lost a lot of people and retreated to the bunker. Now, we''re afraid to even move around during the day."


    "So," I said as the two of us finally reached my car. "The rest of the Brotherhood in the Mojave is hiding out underground. But you still haven''t told me: what exactly does the Brotherhood do, anyway? I''m still not really all that clear on that point. I mean, hell, you''re the first member I think I''ve ever met."


    "Heh," she chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat. "That''s a good question. To be honest... these days, it''s hard to say. Once upon a time, it was about... protecting people, I guess."


    "Protecting people? What, like from raiders and vers? Feral ghouls and insane mutants? Things like that?"


    "Oh no," she waved it off and smiled at me. "We don''t do that. I''m talking about protecting people from themselves, and only in the sense that we don''t let them have any of the good Pre-War toys. The idea is controlling technology, so that it doesn''t get the chance to destroy us again. Energy weapons and powered armor are usually on the top of our list, although I appreciate anything that''s vintage. But all that seems... I don''t know, it just seems so limited now."


    "Not really the word I would use," I said. "Pointless is more how I''d describe that mission. Even if you had the numbers of the NCR military, you wouldn''t be able to confiscate every piece of Pre-War tech out there in the wastes."


    "Maybe... maybe that''s true. But it seems limited to me, because we haven''t grown or adapted. The Brotherhood is stuck in a hole, and it seems like all we''re doing is protecting ourselves, hoping to outlive everyone else in the outside world and be humanity''s sole heirs."


    "It sounds to me like you''re pretty disillusioned with the whole business," I offered. She just sighed and shook her head.


    "Yeah, I know I''m whining andining and moaning. Trust me, I know what I sound like. But there''s still something that rings true to me about our code. There''s a sort of... honor to it. I mean, we really do want to protect people. Even if it''s from themselves, it''s a good cause. It''s just..." she hesitated, seemingly searching for the right words.


    "The Brotherhood gets so focused on details that they lose sight of the big picture," I finished the thought for her, and she nodded in agreement.


    "We treat all our practices with the same sacredness. Every member, from scribe to knight to pdin to elder, we all follow The Word, as written in the Codex. Deviation is not tolerated."


    "The Codex?" I arched an eyebrow at her.


    "The Codex is... well, think of it as The Big Book of the Brotherhood."


    "Try and say that three times fast," I said with a softugh.


    "Well, quite. If it''s in there, we have to abide it. If it''s not... well, then it''s not important. Aside from documenting thews and regtions we live by, it also documents our history. Before I was made a procurement specialist, I was a scribe, and part of a scribe''s duty is to update it asionally." Veronica tapped her chin. "Hmm... I wonder..."


    "Sounds to me like you''re plotting something," I smirked. She just smiled and shook her head.


    "Nah," she said, more to herself than to me. "They''d probably catch it if I rewrote the Founder''s Axioms."


    The Gun Runners are one of those rare sess stories that you almost never hear about in the wastnd. The way I always heard it told, they got their start in the Boneyard sometime in the 2160''s as a small-time weapons dealer, operating out of a single site. Fast forward a few decades, and everyone from Dayglow to math knows about the Gun Runners: the premier source of high quality arms and ammunition anywhere in the wastnd.


    And unlike most weapon suppliers out there, they don''t salvage weapons - they <em>make</em> them. They have franchises and factories practically everywhere, and they''re so good at what they do, the NCR has contracted with them to supply their army with guns, bullets, explosives, body armor... if it''s used by NCR infantry, it was probably made by the Gun Runners .


    In the Mojave, the Gun Runners operate out of a factory outside the Vegas wall, less than a mile south of Freeside''s east gate. I noticed it when I first came to Vegas, and spent an hour driving around the wall trying to find the entrance. The building was essentially a kiosk, connected to a small, two story factory behind it. I couldn''t really get a decent look at the factory itself. It was surrounded by a chain link fence, with another wall behind that. The sign above the kiosk, proiming this building inrge welded steel letters that you were, indeed, at the "GUN RUNNERS" was lit up from below with two tiny spotlights.


    "I think that''s the first sign in Vegas I''ve seen without neon," Veronica said after I parked the Corvega nearby.


    "I think you''re right," I agreed, walking up to the kiosk. It was essentially just a wooden box and was manned by a Protectron-model robot behind a sheet of thick ss. Beneath the ss window was a metal slot, which lookedrge enough to amodate sniper rifles or suits ofbat armor. Next to the window was aputer terminal. Knowing the Gun Runners, the inside of the box was probably lined with steel and Ker, and the ss had been bulletproofed. Behind the robot was some manner of conveyor belt, with several weapons attached to it.


    <strong>"WELCOME SIR OR MADAM."</strong> The robot spoke in loud mechanical voice, free of inflection or emotion. <strong>"DO YOU WISH TO PURCHASE SOMETHING?"</strong>


    "I''m not sure yet," I said, trying to get a good look at some of the weapons on the conveyor belt. One of them was a rifle almost four feet long. Judging from the size and shape of the barrel, it looked chambered for .50 MG rounds... A gun like that could probably blow a deathw in half, if you hit it in the right spot. I considered it for half a minute, and then realized something like that would be absurdly expensive.


    "Hey, Veronica? What do you want?" There was a part of my brain that seemed to realize the absurdity of asking her what kind of weapon she wanted, the same way I''d ask someone if they wanted something from a corner store in Shady Sands.


    "Hmm? Oh, sorry, I wasn''t paying attention. What''s up?"


    "I asked you what you wanted." I repeated.


    "What do I want?" She looked confused.


    "I''m not gonna say it a third time." I turned back to looking at the weapons on disy as she thought. Finally, she spoke up.


    "I want... a dress."


    What.


    "Run that by me again?" I turned away from the robot, and couldn''t help but stare. I''ll be honest, that caught me a little by surprise.


    "I want a dress!" She said with considerably more enthusiasm the second time. "A good one. Something elegant and ssy, but still stylish. Something that''s eye-catching and sexy, but also says ''don''t fuck with me,'' you know?"


    I was stunned. I didn''t know what to say. The reason it probably caught me by surprise was that I didn''t really think of Veronica as a girl. I suppose I kept forgetting she was one. How, I''m not sure. But still. She wasn''t quite finished speaking yet.


    "I keep hoping that I''ll find something - you know, some Old World designer gown - when I''m scavenging, but it never happens. Some days, I think I should move back to California."


    "You know, as interesting as that is," I finally said when I found my voice "I was actually wondering if you wanted anything from here." I jabbed a thumb at the robot inside the shack. "I could be wrong, but I don''t think they sell dresses here." I paused half a second, then turned to the robot.


    "Do you sell dresses here?" Robots had been surprising me left and right thest few days. So what the hell, right?


    <strong>"I AM UNABLE TO PROCESS YOUR REQUEST."</strong> It bleated. I turned back to Veronica, who was blushing so fiercely, I was surprised her robe wasn''t catching on fire.


    "Sorry, no dice," I smiled smugly.


    "Alright, fine!" She practically shouted, her face flush with embarrassment. She crossed her arms over her chest, looked away from me, and scowled. "I didn''t understand what you meant. Jerkface."


    "Hey, don''t take it so seriously, I didn''t mean anything by it. I was just having a little fun with you, that''s all," I turned back to the robot. "Do you have any melee weapons? Mods for a power fist? Things like that?"


    <strong>"I AM READY TO PROCESS YOUR TRANSACTION,"</strong> It pointed a w-hand in the direction of theputer terminal. <strong>"PLEASE, USE THE TERMINAL TO SELECT THE ITEMS YOU WISH TO PREVIEW."</strong>


    "Oooh!" Veronica had suddenly appeared next to me, looking into the kiosk through the window as the weapons trundled along on the conveyor belt. "Is that a two-step goodbye? I think it is!" She was pointing at something that looked like it could''ve been a power fist, but instead of a metal te on pneumatic pistons, there was a pair of what looked like shotgun barrels mounted to the top.


    "So..." I cycled through the selections on the terminal, watching as the guns passed by. "A dress, huh?"


    "I thought you were done teasing me about that!" I heard her say indignantly.


    "I''m not teasing," I said honestly. "I''m actually legitimately curious now. Why a dress?"


    "Hey, you try getting a date wearing Brotherhood Scribe robes! Might as well be wearing sweatpants," I just shook my head and smiled as she continued. "I just like ''em, you know? A nice dress... it makes you feel like a woman, you know?"


    "No, I don''t actually know that feeling. My equipment in the trouser department is rather different."


    "Wise-ass."


    "I''ll be honest, I didn''t peg you for liking something like that."


    "And why not?" She took on a yfully insulted air.


    "Well..." I tried to think of how I could phrase this diplomatically. "Because most of the lesbians that I''ve met over the years... usually, if they''re into mechanical things like guns and power fists and taking engines apart, and other kinds of hands-on engineering, they aren''t really into things like dresses, or makeup, or pastel ponies, or any other kinds of traditionally ''girly'' endeavors."


    "Hey now, just because I crack skulls and turn heads into red paste during my day job doesn''t mean that I don''t like to feel sexy every once in a while!"


    I nodded, conceding that she had a fair point.


    "Oh, neat!" She pressed her nose against the ss again. "A hydraulically-actuated super sledge!"


    <strong>Authors Note: Well, folks, that''s it. When I started posting this story, I''d given myself what I thought was a huge buffer, but now my posted chapters have caught up with what I''ve written. So, unless I be incredibly inspired and write 10 chapters in the next day or so, I won''t be able to post chapters every Friday. I''ll post them whenever they get done... whenever that might be. So if you''ve been looking forward to this every Friday, I apologize.</strong>

 Chapter 19: Cottonwood Cove

    Chapter 19: Cottonwood Cove


    <em>Wee back to the Mr. New Vegas show. I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas. Got some Dean Martining upter in the program, followed by good ol'' Blue Eyes himself, Frank Sinatra. But first, I have some news. Violence outside the Vegas wall has increased in recent days, despite the best attempts by NCR troops stationed at Camp McCarran to find and eliminate the leaders of the Fiends. Fighting was especially brutal in the ruins where the Las Vegas beltway meets the Long 15. Locals and tourists are advised to steer clear. More ssicsing at you on the airwaves, so stay tuned.</em>


    "Stop the car."


    It was the first thing Boone had said since we''d set out for Cottonwood Cove about an hour earlier. For some reason, the ride had seemed longer. Boone had imed shotgun before anyone else had reached the car, and had been scanning thendscape the entire trip; Veronica, Arcade, and Cass were all sitting in the back. It probably sounds cramped, but the great thing about old world cars like my Corvega is how surprisingly spacious they are - the backseat was like a wide, ratherfortable sofa.


    Well... asfortable as I could make it, anyway.


    "Boone?" I inquired. It was all I could think to ask, really.


    "Stop the car," Boone repeated. "If we get much closer, Legion perimeter scouts are bound to hear the engine."


    I nodded, and pulled the car off to the side of the road, killing the engine next to a patch of honey mesquite trees.


    "As lovely as this trip has been," I heard Arcade mutter in the back, his wordsced with sarcasm, "I''m d we''re stopping. I really do feel the need to stretch my legs."


    "What, had too much of our girl talk already?" I didn''t need to see Veronica to know she was smirking. I''d heard the conversationing from the backseat; on the one side was Cass, exining the finer points of distilling moonshine to an Arcade who couldn''t care less, and on the other was Veronica, recounting a story where she''d punched a raider in the face so hard, his skull went right through his body, and <em>literally</em> shot out of his ass. She was getting really vivid and graphic with her story, too, and it made me wonder: just how much of the gore did she really remember, and how much was she just making up on the spot? Though, I did have to admit ''cascading rivulets of crimson shing through the air and glistening in the evening sun'' had a certain morbid charm to it.


    And to think: Veronica was the one who wanted the dress.


    "If I wanted girl talk, I''d just start talking to myself," Arcade retorted. Veronica justughed.


    "C''mon," Boone checked his rifle, making sure it was loaded. "We''re about half a klick Southwest of where we need to be."


    Just as ED-E flew down to join the rest of us, I thought about those directions Boone had just described - that couldn''t be right. I checked my Pip Boy''s map. Sure enough...


    "Hang on - we need to get to Cottonwood Cove, and that would take us... not quite the wrong direction, but not close enough to the cove."


    "I know. We can''t go straight there," he said, starting to walk away. "Follow me."


    "Well, alright, but hang on a minute," I said, moving to the front of my car. "I gotta get something first." I unlocked it, lifted the trunk lid, and started rooting around, sifting through the veryrge pile of stuff I kept in there.


    "Th'' hell?" Cass looked over my shoulder into the pile of crap in my trunk. "I thought that was where th'' engine was."


    After some shifting of general clutter, I found the two things I was looking for. The first was the rifle I''d picked up from the Gun Runners earlier - they called it Pinpoint. Instead of wood, the stock was made out of carbon fiber and stics, the bolt and receiver were custom tooled, the end of the barrel had been fitted with a muzzle suppressor, and there was a long range optic scope mounted to the top. All in all, it was a handy piece of kit. Expensive as hell, but it should be worth it.


    "Hey Cass? Think you can give me a hand with this?" I said, handing a corner of the second thing I''d found in the trunk to Cass.


    "What is it?" She looked at the mesh in her hands, turning it over and staring at it intently as she helped me get it unfolded.


    "Camoting," I said, unfurling the grey-brown meshting, and urging her to help me drape it over my car. "It''s a kind of old world camouge equipment. It won''t really work up close, but from a distance most people won''t give it a second nce."


    "Not unless they know what to look for," Veronica chimed in, surveying our work.


    "Well yeah, but there aren''t any other rusted cars around," I shrugged. With any luck, if anyone looked in the direction of my car, they''d just think it was a big rock or a clump of dead nts. "If there were, I''d hide it in the middle of them rather than bother with theting."


    "I think we might need to hurry," Arcade said, looking off towards Boone. "He''s leaving without us."


    "Boone, where are we even going?" I asked as we made our way over the broken ground. The group of us had been following him on a very precarious and winding route along a ridge. I still couldn''t see the Colorado River.


    "Sniper nest," he said, suddenly sliding down from his spot and down the ridge. ED-E buzzed by my head and followed. With a shrug, I followed suit, grabbing hold of the steeply angled ground to slow my decent. After only a few seconds of sliding, I found myself on a strangely level part of the ridge, which had somehow remained hidden from view on the approach. There was a small shack, which looked hastily constructed out of wood and corrugated metal, a small circle of stones and some ash, a few discarded tin cans, and countless discarded cigarette butts. At the edge of the cliff (and it was steep enough to be a cliff at this point) was a small awning made out of the same sort of camoting I used on my car.


    "I need you to give me a hand with something," I heard Boone say as the rest of mypanions followed me down. I turned to him, only to see him with a shovel in hand - where had he gotten a shovel? - and handed me one as well. Handed is perhaps the wrong word, though. He practically tossed it at me.


    "Alright, sure," I shrugged. "What are we digging up?"


    "Just some things I left,st time I was here" he said, walking with a distinct purpose to a patch of ground that didn''t look any different than any other patch of ground nearby. He nted his shovel and started to dig.


    "You can be infuriatingly cryptic at times, you know that, right?" He just grunted a "Hmm," as the two of us shoveled the dirt and rocks away. Eventually, I hit something hard, but not hard like a rock: hard like metal. The two of us working eventually cleared away the dirt enough for us see a long, rectangr metal box. When it was clear enough, we discarded the shovels and cleared the remaining dirt away with our hands. He grabbed one end, and I grabbed the other, pulling it out of the hole and setting it on firmer ground.


    "So, what is this?" I asked. The others had started to gather around us, to see what we were doing. Boone didn''t reply, and instead set his rifle on the ground before turning his attention to the lock. The box didn''t use a key; it was abination lock, like I''d seen on some briefcases in the past. He thumbed in the numbers, pushed a button, and the box opened with a hiss of disced air.


    The inside of the box was divided in half by a metal partition. One half contained some kind of chest armor, with the pieces arranged very neatly in the most space-efficient manner possible, and disying a desert camouge pattern. Underneath the armor was what looked like some kind of dirty brownish-green leather duster. Sitting on top of the armor was abination helmet and gas mask, with dark green tinted eye lenses, some kind of small camera or light mounted on the right side of the helmet, and "FORGIVE ME MAMA" written in ck ink on the front of the helmet. On the other side of the box''s partition was a rifle, very much in a state of disassembly, but unmistakably a DKS-501 sniper rifle that had been given the same kind of desert camo paint job as the armor.


    While Boone busied himself with assembling the sniper rifle, I grabbed the helmet, and turned it over in my hands to get a better look at it. There were several tally marks on the sides, and on the back were two columns of words scrawled in the same ck paint. The left column was headed by "NANJING" with "JUN" "JUL" "AUG" and "SE" below it. "SE" had a line crossed through it. The right column was topped by the word "SHANGHAI" with "SEP" "OCT" "NOV" "DEC" "JAN" "FEB" "MAR" "APL" and "MAY" written below it.


    Suddenly, a hand grabbed the top of the helmet, and pushed it back down into the metal box.


    "Please, don''t touch my things," Boone said, grabbing thest piece of the sniper rifle and fitting it in ce.


    "Where the hell did you get all this?" I asked. Boone didn''t reply at first, and instead grabbed the chest armor. I only got a nce, but I could see writing on the cor, in a faded white ink:


    SSGT VICKERS, RB


    O POS - USMC


    "I bought it," he finally said, sliding the various pieces of armor on, and locking them in ce.


    "Bullshit," I heard Cass say from behind me. Both Boone and I turned to look at her, but Boone continued to armor up as she kept talking. "I''ve seen that kind''ve armor b''fore. That''s NCR Ranger armor. Y''can''t just buy somethin'' like that."


    "It''s not ck Armor," Boone said simply. As he spoke, he took off his sunsses and his beret, and very carefully, almost reverently, put them in the metal box. "This is a set of pre-war US Marine armor from the invasion of China. Got it from a merchant who''d just passed through Utah. It cost a fortune." Boone grabbed the helmet and put it on, securing it to his head with a well practiced speed. He tapped the camera on the side of his helmet, and I heard it emit a high pitched mechanical whine. The lenses seemed to light up of their own volition. Finally, he grabbed the leather duster, and shut the box with his foot as he put it on.


    When he stood up, he cut a rather imposing sight. I''ll give him that much. The breeze caught his coat, and it fluttered... rather dramatically, it must be said. He turned his helmeted head, and looked at us from behind a single green lens.


    "You wanted to find out how to get into the Fort," when Boone spoke, his words were slightly muffled by the gas mask, and carried an odd reverberating quality. "Here''s how."


    With that, he walked to the edge of the cliff and shouldered his rifle, waiting on the rest of us. Peering over the edge, I finally could see Cottonwood Cove. The road wound through almost nearly to the edge of the river. A series of buildings and several tents dotted the area, and I could see several small docks and a few boats sitting at the edge of the river. I tried to follow the path of the road back to where I''d left my car, but I stopped when I saw the telephone poles. There must have been dozens of them - maybe even a hundred - all lining the road towards the cove. I was suddenly thankful we were so high up and far away that I couldn''t make out any detail.


    "There should only be a handful of legionaries stationed here. About the same as Nelson, probably. I can hit them from here, but if there was another marksman firing from the Cottonwood Overlook-" Boone pointed to a small ridge on the south side of the cove, that had a few smaller buildings and what looked like the trailer of a big rig hanging off the edge "- that should cover where the fire ising from. Cause enough confusion, that should draw out the leader of the camp. Once he''s dealt with, the mop up should be easy."


    "Excuse me for asking this," Arcade spoke up; Boone and I turned from the ridge to look. "But how is a shootout going to help? I thought this was about getting into the fort."


    "Yeah," I scratched the back of my head. "I was just about to ask that myself. Not that I''m against killing legionaries, but this sounds more like a ''kill-em-all'' n. It''s hardly subtle. And it still doesn''t really answer how to get to the fort itself."


    Boone stared at me from behind the green lenses on his helmet. Even so, I''d be willing to put money on the notion that his face behind the mask would be just as stony and expressionless. He turned back to the ridge, and pointed at the docks.


    "The Legion use boats to transport men, equipment, and ves from here to the fort. Most are rafts, but I''ve seen at least one with a working outboard," He turned back to Arcade. "That''s our way inside: steal a boat."


    "Ok, that''s fine... but why risk ourselves with a big fight? Why can''t we just sneak in and steal it?" Arcade asked


    "Dead men can''t squawk," was Boone''s reply.


    "So what''s t''stop ''em from warnin'' th'' fort while we''re killin'' em?" Cass was kneeling by the ridge, taking a look for herself at what we were going to be up against.


    "They only use radios to spy on the NCR, not tomunicate," Boone said to her simply. "Caesar hates technology."


    "You know, I gotta say... This n seems reckless, dangerous, irresponsible, and needlessly violent," All of us turned to look at Veronica when she paused. She just smiled, and continued. "I''m game."


    "It''s a solid ''nuff n I s''pose," Cass spoke up, still looking down towards the cove. "An'' after seein'' what they did at Nipton ''n Nelson, I got no problem takin'' a crack at these bastards. So who''s gonna be th'' other shooter?"


    "Catch," Boone''s voice startled even me, because of where it came from: without being seen by anyone he''d gone to where he''d set down his rifle, and didn''t toss so much as shove it towards Cass. She was as startled as I was, I think, but she caught it with both hands. He continued speaking after giving her his old gun, his voice still filtered by the gas mask. "It''s suppressed. That''ll help keep them from spotting you, since you''ll be firing from a position more exposed than mine."


    "Alright..." Cass said hesitantly, eyeing the gun with suspicion. "But... why me?"


    "You''re the best shot here. Apart from Sheason and myself," Boone replied.


    "So, why don''t I shoot from the ridge?" I asked. Honestly, I trusted Boone''s judgment, but sometimes I wished he''d be a bit less unfathomable. Or, at the very least, more forting with information.


    "Because your part in this n is more dangerous. And more crucial. While the two of us are picking them off, you drive up the middle. Mop up the stragglers," He sniffed inside his helmet. "You''re the one who wants to go to the fort anyway."


    "Fair enough..." I''ll be honest - I''d be much morefortable somewhere I could put Pinpoint to more use, far away from the Legion line of fire. But I was going to have to go down there one way or another. Probably best to have Boone and Cass cover me with death from above. Besides... it''s not like I would''ve asked anyone else to act as bait. I''m not that kind of asshole.


    "ED-E," I called for the robot, and immediately he hovered in front of my face with a beep. "I want you flying high enough above me on the way down so these two can see you. When I get close enough, fly down and cause some chaos," He beeped again in agreement, while I turned to Boone and Cass. "I want you both watching him. When ED-E joins the fight, that''ll be the signal to open up."


    "Sounds good t''me," Cass said, resting Boone''s rifle against her shoulder. Boone merely nodded.


    "Alright, before we go any further, I want to get back to the Corvega. There are a few more things I want to pick up," Everyone nodded, and (with the exception of Boone) all started walking back up the way we came. I started following, but right before I left, I happened to look back over my shoulder.


    Boone was standing at the edge of the cliff with his sniper rifle in hand. He stood there, stock-still, like a statue of the old world chiseled from granite or marble or something. At first I was confused - why was he just standing there? And why was he staring down at the cove? And then I remembered his words from yesterday: <em>"I tracked her down. Southeast, near the river."</em> Quietly, I made my way back towards Boone, until I was standing right behind him. He didn''t move until I spoke.


    "This is it, isn''t it?" I asked, not daring to voice my suspicions any more than that. His head shifted slightly in my direction, but he didn''t say anything. Silence permeated the air for several moments. It seemed like even the wind was scared to make noise around Boone. Eventually, he turned his head away from me, and went back to staring at the cove.


    "Does it matter?" was his response when he finally spoke up. Somehow, his voice was more gravelly than normal, and it wasn''t just the filter of the gas mask. His voice was cold... devoid of emotion... it almost sounded inhuman.


    The voice of someone already dead.


    "I... I guess not," I said, shaking my head sadly. "For what it''s worth, I''m sorry."


    "We already had this conversation once," he said, sharply. "I''m not interested in having it again."


    "I suppose so," I sighed, slowly walking away, and towards the path back to my car. Before I gotpletely out of earshot, however, I heard Boone say onest thing to me.


    "Sheason. When you get down there, don''t hesitate. You hesitate fighting Legion, you''re already dead."


    "There y''are," Cass said when I finally caught up with them. Cass, Veronica, Arcade and ED-E were all hanging around my car. "What''d ya do, take th'' scenic route?"


    "Something like that," I shrugged. I pointed to the rifle in Cass'' hands. "What kind of ammo do you think that takes?"


    "Uh..." She took a look at the rifle in her hands questioningly, and ejected the magazine. "308, I think."


    "Alright, gimmie a sec," and with that, I pulled the camoting off the front of my car and popped the trunk, rummaging around inside it for a minute or two before pulling out two boxes of .308 rifle ammunition. "Here ya go, extra ammo."


    "What th'' hell, man? Just how much CRAP do you keep in there?" She asked with augh, taking the ammo off my hands.


    "Enough," I said, still searching for the other things I was looking for. "Keep in mind, normal for me is living in my car. I''m still not quite used to House''s gilded cage..." I looked up from the mass of stuff in the trunk, and turned back to Cass. "You should probably get going. This isn''t going to work if we don''t move fast. Veronica, go with her."


    "Wait, what?"


    "Cass''ll be firing from an exposed point, like Boone said. If they figure out where the fire''sing from, she''ll need someone to watch her back. Just in case." Even though I was talking to Veronica, my gaze didn''t leave Cass. She cocked her head to the side, and looked curious for a moment... but then her expression changed to that of someone who was just insulted.


    "Hey now, I can take care of m''yself. I don''t need someone watchin'' my back, like I''m a fuckin'' child!"


    "I''m not doubting that," I said reaching into the trunk and pulling out a super-sledge. "But a little help never hurt anyone." And with that, I handed the massive hydraulic sledgehammer to Veronica, whose face lit up like the New Vegas skyline.


    "Did you get this at the Gun Runners? For me? Oh, I didn''t know you cared!" While Veronica was gushing over her new toy, Cass merely sighed, and started walking away towards the overlook to the south.


    "Fine, whatever. Youin'' V?" She called back over her shoulder. Veronica nodded, despite the fact that Cass couldn''t see her, and was about to follow when I set a hand on her shoulder. Veronica stopped, and just looked back at me with a raised eyebrow.


    "Make sure you keep her safe," I said in a low voice, so only the two of us could hear. "Can you do that for me?" She just looked at me for half a second, looked at Cass, and then looked back at me with a face of dawningprehension and a sly smile. She chuckled softly and nodded.


    "Don''t you worry your pretty little head about it, Shea," she reached up and tousled my hair like you''d do to a six year old. This really annoyed me, given she''s still practically a child and I''m at least a decade older than her. "Any Legiones poking around, they''ll get a face full of pain and death." And with that, she skipped off after Cass.


    "She''s an odd one," Arcade said, shaking his head. "So, I guess this means I''m tagging along with you to ''mop up'' then. Oh joy." I just went back to searching through the trunk. He walked up beside me and peered in over my shoulder. I shoved a few books to the side, and he picked them up, reading the titles.


    "Let''s see... ''Big Book of Science,'' ''Guns and Bullets,'' ''Chinese Army: Special Ops Training Manual''... Cass was right to ask about one thing. Just how much crap do you have?"


    "Just some light reading for the road. Aha!" I pulled out the cylinders I was looking for, and handed one to Arcade. "Here, hold this."


    "And what exactly is this that I''m holding?" He turned it over in his hands just once. "It looks like a microfusion cell."


    "You''re half right," I said, securing three of them to my belt, and continuing my search for pistol ammunition. "I found the design a couple years ago. You need three cells to make one of those, and it takes a fair bit of rewiring, a sensor module, the firing pin from a frag grenade and some electrical tape, but it gets the job done."


    "You turned microfusion cells into grenades," Arcade replied tly, looking at me over his sses with an expression between stunned shock and amazement.


    "Call it a poor-man''s sma grenade," I said with a smirk. "Speaking of sma, you need any ammo for that pistol of yours?"


    "I''m sure I have enough ammo tost... oh, ten minutes? Fifteen?" Arcade shrugged. "I''ll be honest, the current situation is far from ideal. Marching down into the gates of hell with only a pistol at my side against dozens of brutal and bloodthirsty Legion troops who would like nothing more than to nail me to a cross and use my nipples for target practice? This isn''t really how I expected to spend today. Why exactly am I following you again? Oh, that''s right, because you offered a resolute-and-yet-vague promise to fix things in Vegas. And somehow that brings us here. Ah well."


    The whole time he''d been talking, I just stared at my Corvega. I wasn''t really listening to him, because a n was forming in my head. It was a crazy n. A reckless n. A horribly stupid, <em>painfully stupid</em> n, even. But Boone''s n was crazy, reckless, and stupid on its own. What harm could a little more do?


    "Help me with the camoting," I said, trying to pull it off my car.


    "Sorry?" Despite looking confused, Arcade pulled himself out of it long enough to help me pull the mesh off my car and shove it back in the trunk.


    "So, what do you say Virgil?" I smirked, shoving the trunk lid closed with a ng. "Think you''ll let me be Dante for a while?"


    "And so, I think it best you follow me for your own good," Arcade didn''t reply, and instead spoke like he was quoting as the two of us got in my Corvega. "And I shall be your guide and lead you out through an eternal ce where you will hear desperate cries, and see tormented shades, some old as Hell itself, and know what second death is, from their screams."


    "So... was that a yes? Seriously, what the fuck was that supposed to be?" I asked. Arcade merely chuckled and pressed his sses further up his nose, settling into the passenger seat.


    "It''s from the first chapter of the Divine Comedy. Virgil the Poet is offering to show Dante the Pilgrim the path through Hell," he said grimly. "I thought it rather apt, since we''re marching to Caesar''s doorstep."


    "You know, I''ll be honest... I never read it." I turned the key, and my Corvega rumbled into life with a roar.


    "And we''re not marching."


    I''m sure the Legionaries using Cottonwood Cove as a staging ground were expecting a great many things toe down the highway into their camp. NCR scouts, giant mutated bugs, some raiders perhaps looking for easy prey... maybe a deathw, or an albino radscorpion. Those huge fuckers do tend to wander asionally.


    I''m pretty sure thest thing they expected was a 750 horsepower old world machine - spitting blue fire out the tailpipes - toe barreling down the highway towards their camp at full tilt.


    I felt the car go light and the bottome out from under me as we crested a hill. During the middle of the jump, it felt like my lungs were being forced into my lower intestines. Arcade was clutching the dashboard with one hand and his pistol in the other; I couldn''t tell if he was pissed off or terrified.


    "This is a stupid idea!" He yelled over the roar of the engine.


    Pissed off it was then.


    "Exactly!" I yelled right back, over the crash of the tires hitting the road again. "They won''t be expecting this!"


    There was onest corner on the road before the Legion camp, but a telephone pole cross with a skeleton still tied to it was sticking out of the ground - right at the apex of the curve. There was only one way I could make it around the corner without scrubbing off so much speed as to lose the element of surprise.


    Before I go any further, I want to make something very clear about my car. It wasn''t originally built to go fast - I made it fast when I put an enormous 3 megawatt fusion reactor behind the rear wheels. It was originally built in thete 2060''s to be a luxury car, designed to go from point A to point B not as quickly as possible, but as soft andfortably as possible with space inside for half a dozen suitcases. And because of that, it''s veryrge - a little over 18 feet long, and six and a half feet wide. Mix that with the fact it weighs just over two and a half tons, and driving it around a corner at any kind of speed is kind of like trying to shove a veryrge building around a corner if the building was made of giant boulders. And cement. And churches.


    "What the HELL are you DOING?!" Arcade was really yelling now. Honestly, I couldn''t me him - I''m sure from where he was sitting, it looked like the car was heading directly for the telephone pole. I had my foot nted on the floor, and the steering wheel turned as far into the corner as it could go. And it was at that precise moment when Arcade decided to start yelling in my ear, I felt the back end of the car let go. I took my foot off the gas, and the car started sliding sideways, and even over the roar of the engine, I could hear the screeching of the tires over the ruined and cracked pavement. Clouds of tire smoke poured in through the windows, and I strained against the wheel to get the nose of the car pointed back in the right direction. Just when I was afraid the car was going to spin out, the back tires found grip and I was back to speeding down the road straight instead of sideways.


    "Holy mother of God and all her wacky nephews! Not even Daisy Whitman''s this crazy, you asshole!" I did my best to tune out Arcade yelling at me, and shifted the car back in gear as the camp came into view. Of course, distinctly separate from the camp and a damn sight closer was a Legion soldier standing right in the middle of the road. One ufortable bump in the roadter, and he was no longer in front of us. In fact, he was behind us, crumpled in a bloody heap of red sports equipment. Not the cleanest way to go, it must be said, but at least he had the decency to get pushed under the car. The windshield has enough cracks in it as it is.


    "Hold onto something!" I yelled, gunning the engine and aiming the car at a row of crimson tents near one of the copsed buildings.


    "That''s not helpful!" Arcade yelled right back. Half an instantter, the only sounds I could hear were the sounds of metal rods hitting the car, one right after the other, and the windscreen was covered in red cloth. I just kept going, ignoring the hideously bumpy ride threatening to shake my spine loose until...


    CRUNCH.


    The Corvega came to a stop with a sudden and unexpected halt. Boone said don''t hesitate, so I didn''t; with one hand I flung the driver door open, and with the other I grabbed the shoulder of Arcade''sbcoat.


    "C''mon!" The two of us dove out of the car. The engine was still running, and I hadn''t had time to take the car out of gear, but it wasn''t moving. I didn''t really have time to think about that though, because over the noise of the engine, I started hearing loud pings - the unmistakable sound of bullets ricocheting off the car. And then came the men shouting orders.


    Well, at least I had some cover. That was a start. I pulled out Roscoe and peeked just enough over the car to see what wasing. VATS kicked in almost without thought now and started picking targets - 10 Legionaries were rushing at us with machetes, and six, maybe seven more scattered around with rifles. A few of the Legion soldiers carrying des also had what looked like old world police riot shields, painted red with gold designs.


    I took aim with Roscoe, and pointed at the nearest trooper. Two shots, and he was down. There were several sounds from next to me like a series of methane bubbles imploding in a swamp, and another nearby Legion soldier died from a burst of green sma hitting him square in the chest. Nevermind the three sma bolts that missed him. A bullet pinged perilously close to my head, and I ducked instinctively. That was when I heard what, at that moment in time, was the most glorious sound in the world: tinny, patriotic marching music belching from an Eyebot''s speaker grille.


    ED-E dropped out of the sky and flew directly over my head, letting looseser st afterser st at the advancing Legionaries. One of the troopers with a shield was getting perilously close, and was t out running towards the car. Arcade was reloading, and even though ED-E fired, the shot missed. I lined up Roscoe and was about to take the shot when I heard the second most glorious sound in the world.


    There was a crack in the air like a thunderbolt, loosed by some angry, vengeful God. The Legionnaire lifted his riot shield away long enough for me to see the left side of his face explode in a shower of meat and bone. He spun, and the body hit the ground with a wet thud.


    The fighting continued like that for several minutes. More Legion soldiers kepting out of the woodwork, but thanks to my uracy in VATS, Arcade''s sma pistol, ED-E''sser, and the sniping from Boone and Cass, they thinned out considerably. Eventually, I could hear no more shouts. The bullets had stopped pinging against my car. And there, off in the distance, about 50 yards away from my car, was the dock with the boat we were searching for. So, I decided to make a run for it.


    "Hey," I patted Arcade on the shoulder as I got up and moved past him. "Cover me." I kept my pistol drawn as I made my way over to the docks, just in case there were any Legion troops smart enough to be hiding and waiting to ambush me. I got about halfway there when I came across something that made me stop in my trackspletely.


    It was a cage. A roughly 20 feet by 20 feet cage made out of chain-link fencing topped with razor wire. It had been hidden behind several tents, which is why I hadn''t seen it from my car. Thing is, I knew it was a cage, because there were <em>people</em> inside. Two dozen people, easy. All shapes. All colors. All ages. All of them were wearing rags, and looked half starved... and beaten. When I got close, several of them grabbed at the fence, in the vain hope that they might be able to reach through the links. Most of them didn''t get up - and looked too weak to get up. The most noticeable thing about them, however, was that each and every person was wearing a metal cor with a blinking red light.


    I''m sure I would have tried to help them right then and there - in fact, I distinctly recall walking towards the cage, to see if I could find a gate - when I heard one of the girls hanging on the fence near me cry out in a weak voice:


    "Behind you!"


    I had just enough time to register a fist the size of a cooked ham before it connected with my face and I saw stars. Everything went sideways, and I felt myself roll across the ground. My grip on Roscoe loosened, and I heard it tter on the rocks somewhere.


    When my vision straightened out, I saw the biggest non-super mutant motherfucker I think I''ve ever have the misfortune toe across. Certainly, he was the biggest Legionnaire I''ve ever seen. His armor looked like a mish-mash of bits and pieces of fallen enemies. In the split second I had before I was forced to move, I saw a chest te and a helmet from a super mutant (the only difference was the helmet had a red fringe on the top), the right pauldron and forearm from a suit of power armor, armor tes from the kind of NCR Ranger armor I''d seen Milo wearing yesterday, and the shin guards and boots from old worldbat armor.


    Before I could see anything else, I had to roll out of the way; a giant, hydraulically actuated sledgehammer was brought down on the ground with enough force to send splinters of rocks in every direction. I rolled again, and grabbed That Gun just as he brought the hammer down again. I tried to scramble to my feet, but instead of hitting me with the hammer, he kicked me in the gut with those steel toedbat boots. I tried not to lose my lunch, and ended upnding a good five feet away from him on my back. I leveled That Gun and fired at him, hoping - praying - that VATS would pull through. I was practically at point nk range anyway.


    Of the five shots I fired, two were ncing shots in the arm and shoulder, and three hit him square in the chest. He didn''t even seem phased. I pulled the trigger a sixth time, just because I was trying to fire as many shots as I could, but the click of the hammer hitting an empty chamber echoed in my ears. Obviously, he heard it too, because he justughed.


    I didn''t wait. I couldn''t wait. I tried to scramble to my feet, but I heard a loud thud, and felt arge hand grab my shoulder and flip me around. Another ham-sized fist hit me in the face, and I didn''t have time to feel dizzy, because what I felt instead was a hand wrap around my throat and start to tighten. He lifted me up. My feet left the ground.


    Instinctively, I started wing at the hand on my throat. I could feel myself start to go lightheaded. My eyes felt like they were going to burst out of my head. My vision was starting to get blurry. I regained enough of my senses to stop wing fruitlessly at his hand, and instead started punching him in the face. He didn''t even flinch from the first punch... and the second punch he caught.


    "Did you really think you could beat me, profligate?" He said with a snarl. "I, Aurelius of Phoenix, hand picked by the mighty Caesar himself to lea-"


    I never got to hear the rest of that sentence, because he was cut short by a sound not unlike a bubble of methane imploding in a swamp. His expression went limp, and a trickle of blood escaped his mouth before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head. The two of us copsed on the ground.


    I probably would''ve been more grateful to Arcade for saving my sorry hide, but there was a bit of a problem. Despite being dead, this Aurelius of Phoenix had one hell of a grip.


    "Help?" I managed to wheeze out, trying desperately to loosen the dead man''s hand.


    "Thanks for saving me," I said to Arcade as I put the car in neutral and turned off the engine. "I swear, that guy came out of nowhere!" Luckily, I hadn''t crashed into anything, so my car was still in one piece, apart from the new bullet holes. But it''s not like shooting a car a few times will make it explode in a massive fireball. No, all I''d done was drive it into a ditch. Atrine ditch, sadly (the smell was probably never going toe out) but at least I hadn''t wrapped it around a telephone pole or crashed headlong into a big rock or something that would wreck it.


    "Don''t mention it," he said as the two of us pushed on the front of my Corvega to get it out of the ditch. "I''m just d I finally got my eye in after that first one. It''s been so long since I''ve been to the range, that I was out of practice."


    "The range?"


    "Yeah. You know, a firing range. Where you can practice target shooting without somebody shooting back, you know?" He grunted, and with onestbined shove the two of us were able to get the car clear of the ditch and back on open ground.


    "No better way to practice than in a fight for your life, I say," I smirked, and decided to have a little fun with him. "Still, thanks. It''s nice to have a big, strong doctor around to help keep me safe in the big, bad wastnd." His expression when I said that was priceless.


    "Heh. You know, even though overt ttery will get you everywhere, I''d appreciate it more if you were honest with me. And I can tell, you''re as straight as a ruler. Still..." He smirked, and pointed at me. "You. You''re dangerous. But you can be my wingman anytime."


    Did he just... yes he did. And here I thought I''d seen the only copy of that. I couldn''t leave him hanging after setting up that quote so brilliantly, so I just smiled back him, barely able to hold backughter.


    "Bullshit. You can be mine."


    The two of us just started cracking up. I pped him on the shoulder, and we were bothughing so hard, we didn''t hear when Cass and Veronica showed up.


    "That was awesome!" Cass spoke up, and Arcade and I quieted down. "Drivin'' th'' car right into th'' middle o'' th'' camp? That was th'' ballsiest thing I''ve ever seen! I think y''ran over three of ''em b''fore anybody started shootin''!"


    "Well, I''m d you approve. And I''m d you''re both here. Veronica, I''m gonna need your help with something. Arcade, you too."


    "What''s up?" I heard her ask. She was smiling, but I think she was a little disappointed that she hadn''t been able to have a go with her new toy.


    "Juste with me. It''ll be easier if you see it."


    It didn''t take long to get to the cage. Everyone was as shocked as I was when I''d first seen it. As soon as we got near, that same girl who''d warned me spoke up again.


    "Can you... can you free us?" Her face was dirty, and what little hair I could see under her shawl was ck and just as dirty.


    "O''course we can, don''t worry ''bout it," Cass said. She walked up to the fence, and did her best to give a hand offort through the chain links. "Where''s the gate? We c''n prolly st it off."


    "It''s over here," I said, pointing to it. It wasn''t all thatplicated, but picking it would take time. "Arcade."


    He didn''t need to be told twice. He took aim with his pistol, and the lock evaporated into a fine green mist. I was just about to fling open the doors when Veronica practically shouted my ears off.


    "WAIT! We can''t let them out!" She sounded worried. "At least... not yet."


    "She''s... right," the girl stated sadly. She grabbed at the cor around her neck.


    "What? Why?" Cass demanded angrily.


    "See those things around their necks?" Veronica pointed. "Those are bomb cors."


    "Oh, fuck me," I cursed.


    "Yeah..." Veronica gulped, and continued grimly. "They don''t have much explosive. Just enough."


    "It''s worse than that," the girl spoke up. "The ve master, he... when he put us in here, he told us... the cors are linked. One explodes, they call explode."


    "The good thing is," Veronica did her best to try and sound hopeful. It didn''t really work. "I''ve seen bomb cors like this before. I know how to disarm them and remove them without detonating the rest. But... it''s gonna take time." That was certainly fine by me, I thought.


    "Take your time. Do it right, not quick." I turned to the girl at the fence. "What''s your name?"


    "Weathers," she said softly. "Samantha Weathers."


    "Don''t worry, Sam. We''re gonna get you out of here. Arcade," I turned to the doctor. "Think you can give Veronica a hand, maybe tend to the wounded?"


    "You got it boss," he said with a nod.


    "What about me?" Cass asked. "What''re we doin?"


    "You''re gonna help me put together a Legion uniform."


    It took the two of us about five minutes to find enough dead Legionaries who still had intact pieces of uniforms to put together something that (I hoped) could pass for a Legion soldier.


    "Think we got enough?" I asked. Cass nodded.


    "Yeah, but there was somethin'' weird though."


    "What''s weird?" I asked, sorting the pieces.


    "All those Legionaries? They all had the same tattoo. S''only one, and they all had it on th'' left shoulder. Just a simple tattoo, spelled out ''SPQR'' in in ck letters. Got no idea what it means."


    "It''s the Mark of the Legion." A voice came out of nowhere that made us both jump. Boone was standing right behind us, still wearing his armor and still carrying the sniper rifle. "Every Legion soldier has it. Don''t know why. Don''t really care. But before I was discharged, NCR started checking for it. Try and root out Legion infiltrators."


    While Boone was talking, I was stripping off my normal clothes, and bit by bit was reassembling a Legion uniform. I was about halfway finished when Boone spoke up again.


    "You haven''t told her, have you?"


    "Told me what?" Cass looked confused.


    "He''s going to the fort without us," Boone said simply.


    "What? Why?" Cass looked genuinely shocked and a little bit worried. "Y''got a death wish''r somethin''?"


    "Nope. The opposite in fact," I put a crimson wrap of cloth around my lower face, and tried my damndest to ignore the smell and feel of a dead mans clothing pressing up against my nose and mouth. "If I go in alone, I should have an easier time of it. Besides... bringing you all along would make itplicated."


    "How so?" Cass stepped closer, and looked about ready to slug me.


    "Should I go down the list? Boone can''te because he''s way too trigger happy when the Legion''s concerned, and I wouldn''t trust him not to just start shooting up the ce. No offense."


    "None taken," Boone said, nodding his head. "You''re probably right."


    "I can''t take Arcade, because he''s needed here taking care of the wounded ves. I can''t take Veronica, because she''s busy disarming all those bomb cors, and even if she wasn''t, I couldn''t bring her to the fort for the same reason I can''t bring you to back me up. You''re both women - and I don''t think I need to remind you what the Legion does to women. You''d both stick out like a pair of sore thumbs. And I really can''t bring ED-E, because a flying metal ball is going to be really conspicuous around a bunch of soldiers that shun modern technology." As I spoke, I put on the finishing touches to the Legion outfit. With any luck, I could pass for a real Legionnaire.


    "So, you''re just going to go in alone then?"


    "Don''t worry about me, I''ll be fine. I''ve infiltrated raider camps, ver camps, I even once snuck into an NCR base to deliver a package. I''ll be fine. Now, help me get this off," I offered the arm with my Pip Boy to Cass. I''d undone the locks, but it didn''t want toe off. With the two of us grabbing hold of it, it did finallye free from my arm... but for some reason, taking it off stung quite badly. There were a few red dots on my skin underneath where it had been. I didn''t know if that was new or not, since before when I''d taken it off before hitting the sack, the lights had been off.


    "So, you''re not even going in with your Pip Boy then?" Cass asked. She was really looking worried now. I shook my head.


    "Nope. That''ll really stand out." I bent down to my pile of discarded clothes, and reached into the pants pocket, pulling out both my car keys and the tinum Chip.


    "Don''t worry. I''ll be fine."

 Chapter 20: Fortification Hill

    Chapter 20: Fortification Hill


    Cass was quite cross with me.


    She didn''t want me to go up there all by myself - too much of a risk of me noting back, she said. Eventually though, she did relent and let me go; although it must be said, she did get thest word in: "I swear, if you die out there, I''ll kill ya!"


    ED-E, on the other hand, had been much harder to dissuade. I was already a decent ways up the river when I heard him beep and whistle, hovering just behind me. I kept telling him that he couldn''t follow me - if I was going to get in and get out, I needed to be as inconspicuous as possible, and having a floating metal ball hovering behind me would scream "THIS MAN IS AN INTRUDER! SHOOT HIM!" like a giant glowing neon sign above my head. He just let out a few sad sounding whistles, like a dog whimpering. Eventually though, I got him to turn around and let me continue up the river on my own.


    I didn''t really have much to do on the way there, except go over the n... and go over what I had with me. Obviously I had the tinum Chip - it was hidden in the palm of my left glove. I also had Roscoe hidden in the back of my pants, out of sight along with two extra mags. I didn''t wear it on my hip because that''s where I kept the machete I''d looted to keep me looking like a Legionnaire. I had three MFC grenades hidden in various ces in the armor, and a re tucked away in my right boot. I didn''t bring That Gun with me, because I had no ce to hide it.


    It took nearly an hour going upriver before I saw the first signs of Caesar''s camp. By that time it was just starting to get dark... but that just made the torches easier to see. It was a small dock, sticking out of the Arizona side of the river, with two torches and a single Legion soldier standing guard. When I got close enough, he threw me a rope and helped me guide the boat into dock.


    So far, so good. All I had to do was keep ying it casual as you please, and with any luck I''d be on my way out within the hour.


    "Ave. True to Caesar," the Legionnaire said to me as I stepped off the boat. He thumped his fist on his chest as a salute, and I returned the gesture. He looked me up and down once, and just as I was about to try and make my way past him, he said "You have the look of a Spectore about you. Tell me, what is your business back at the fort?"


    "I''m here to deliver an urgent message to Vulpes Inculta," I told him. I''d had plenty of time to think of an excuse on my way up river. I''d forced myself to remember what I''d seen in Nipton - specifically, Vulpes, and what he''d said to me: <em>"I am Vulpes Inculta,mander of the mighty Caesar''s Frumentarii."</em> If my hunch was correct, the Frumentarii were spies, and for an army that didn''t use radios, it was likely they''d use runners to deliver their messages.


    Hopefully, the cover would wash. I mean, I was still a courier, after all.


    "What kind of urgent message? I was under the impression all the patrols were in from today," he said. He was starting to sound very suspicious. So I had to think fast.


    "That is not for you to know," I said as forcefully as I could from behind the cloth in front of my mouth. "This report is for the eyes and ears of Vulpes Inculta only, until he tells me otherwise." I pulled the machete from my belt. "I could tell you... but then I''d have to slit your throat."


    To his credit, he didn''t flinch. He just stepped to the side, and gestured an arm to let me pass. I sheathed the machete and walked off the dock. As I passed, the Legion soldier called back "You certainly speak like one of The Fox''s men. No respect for honorablebat."


    It was a very long hike from the dock up to the actual fort itself. The walls at the end of the pass must''ve been ten feet high, and looked like they were made out of a really thick metal. There were a pair of Legionnaires at the top of the wall with hunting rifles, stationed on either side of an open drawbridge. I just marched through the gate like I owned the ce and into the fort... the first part of the fort, anyway. There was another, slightly smaller hill, up another winding path with another wall and an open drawbridge.


    Nobody had shot me yet, but aside from the guards on the wall and maybe one or two other Legionnaires I saw patrolling the perimeter, I didn''t really see anyone else. Maybe it was just the darkness... but that couldn''t be it, there were torches everywhere, lighting the way. I pressed on, trying my best not to be unnerved.


    And then, as I was walking up the hill... that was when I got my first look down the <em>other</em> side of the hill.


    I just stopped and stared. I couldn''t help myself. All along the other side, stretching all the way to the coast of Lake Mead, were tents. There were hundreds of the damn things, maybe thousands of them. I can''t be sure, because I didn''t actually stay there long enough to count. I suppose in the back of my mind, I knew that any army that was a threat to the NCR would have to have been huge, but it wasn''t until that moment, when I looked down the hill and saw just how many tents there were, that I finally got a sense of just how <em>massive</em> Caesar''s Legion really was.


    The deeper and deeper I went into Caesar''s camp, the more worried I got. I was seeing a lot less sports equipment, for one; most of the Legionaries I saw up here were wearing real armor - metal chest tes and what looked like some kind of ker underneath. All around, I could see men working. Some of them looked like they were training, and some of them looked like they were making weapons... and not just des, but guns and explosives. Lots of guns and explosives.


    The thing that scared me the most, however, was the howitzer. I''ve seen artillery pieces in the past, mostly on NCR or abandoned US military bases. But more importantly, I''ve seen what they can do: really big guns making even bigger explosions. And when I passed it, I realized that it was pointed directly at Hoover Dam.


    I suddenly got a nagging feeling in the back of my head warning me that gun would be problematic.


    I kept my head down, and stuck to the shadows as best as I could. Ducking in and out of unupied tents, avoiding the groups of Legionaries marching around the fort... I have to admit, I was starting to miss my Pip Boy. I''ll be honest, the thing I was missing the most at that moment was the radar.


    I turned a corner, and came face to face with a group of four Legionaries headed right towards me. I tried not to look suspicious when I walked into a nearby tent and closed the p shut. The Legionaries kept walking... all except one. I could see his silhouette against the fabric of the tent. I pulled out Roscoe in one hand and the machete in the other, just in case. If he was suspicious, and figured out I wasn''t actually Legion, I''d have to get rid of him. So I waited on the inside of the tent, holding my breath, and hoped I''d be able to take care of him quietly if he decided to be nosy.


    The other Legionaries ahead of him called out. I couldn''t tell what they said, but shortly after, the silhouette walked away. I let out a sigh of relief. And then tensed up again when I heard a voice from behind me.


    "Are... are you here for me?"


    I pointed Roscoe at the voice out of reflex. I''m just d I didn''t fire. Sitting on a filthy piece of cardboard and wearing even filthier rags was a small girl. She couldn''t have been more than ten years old, maybe eleven. It looked like she was trying to hide behind one of the metal poles keeping the tent up. She was skinny, and probably malnourished, and her rags had a red "X" painted on them. More than anything else though, she looked terrified.


    I put Roscoe and the machete away immediately and held up my hands in what I hoped would be a disarming gesture.


    "Whoa, hey! Uh, sorry. I didn''t know this tent was upied," She just shrank backward even more, and bowed her head down. It looked like parts of her head had been shaved, and what little hair she had was filthy and matted against her head


    "I-I''m sorry... I forgot I wasn''t... wasn''t supposed to speak... I''m sorry... please don''t-" This poor girl looked on the verge of tears. I had to get her to calm down... I had to think of something. So I did the only thing I could think of. I took off the goggles, the face wrap, and lowered my hood.


    "Hey, calm down! I''m not gonna hurt you. I mean, er, I''m not even Legion!" Honestly, this was probably a bad move, blowing my cover like this. But I couldn''t think of anything else. The tiny girl picked her head up and no longer looked like she was about to cry, but she still eyed me with fear. "Seriously, I''m not Legion. Look," I pulled up my left sleeve to show her my arm - scarred, butcking the Legion tattoo Cass had told me about earlier. She just stared at my arm for a minute or two before finally speaking up.


    "Um... If you''re not Legion, then what... what are you doing here?" She still looked a little scared, but not of me.


    "That... is a long story," I scratched the back of my head and chuckled softly, trying to take the edge off. She just stayed quiet. "What''s your name?"


    "...Melody."


    "Listen, Melody, I''ve just got to do some... stuff. Could you do me a favor, and just... not tell anyone you saw me?"


    "You''re... you''re not gonna do anything to me, are you?" She shrank back, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing them against her chest as she asked.


    "Nnnno? I didn''t even know you were in here. Why would you think I would- " I stopped dead as a thought hit me. No... that would be sick, even for Legion. Doing something like that would be... beyond monstrous.


    "Because..." Melody gulped audibly. "Because sometimes, some Legion soldiers... um... I mean... I''m supposed to tell people that I take care of the brahmin, and bring water to the soldiers, and that''s it. But... sometimes they... I mean..." She got very quiet, and stopped talking altogether.


    It felt like my brain stopped working. Not because I didn''t understand. I could read between the lines just fine. I just <em>didn''t want to understand</em>. I didn''t want to ept that there were people, even in this broken shell of a world, who were capable of such mind-numbing savagery. I''d never even seen raiders stoop that low. I''d heard of, and even seen, raiders eating people before, but never...


    And then my brain started working again, and all I saw was red. I felt a level of hatred towards the Legion that I''d never felt towards anything or anyone before. All I wanted at that particr moment was to kill every single Legionnaire here. But I also knew that I had a job to do.


    "Listen, Meldoy," I said as calmly as I could muster; it took a lot of effort to keep my voice from wavering as I spoke. "There''s something I have to do. But as soon as I''m done, I''m going toe right back here - and then I''m going to get you out of here." As I spoke, I started putting my headgear back on.


    "Get... me..." For the first time since I''d entered the tent, Melody didn''t look scared.


    "I''m going toe back to free you. And then I''m going to take you somewhere safe. I know a group called the Followers of the Apocalypse. I know the name sounds bad, but they''re doctors and teachers - they take care of people. You should be safe with them," As safe as you can get in the wastnd, at least.


    "You... you promise?" she asked. She looked almost hopeful. I put up the hood and nodded.


    "I promise," I lifted the tent p, and scanned the outside. I didn''t see any Legionnaires nearby. "And when I make a promise, I keep it."


    It took me 15 minutes to get from Melody''s tent to the weather station at the western edge of the fort. I had to use all my self control not to just start shooting up the ce. Of course, even I realized that would be suicide. So I kept low, stuck to the shadows, and kept Roscoe in it''s holster until I found my way to the weather station House told me about. There''s no way I could''ve missed it - it was a concrete box with an antennae array sticking 30 feet in the air.


    I pulled the door out, and walked inside... only to see three heavily armored legion soldiers staring back at me. Every single one of them wore metal armor fashioned to look like a heavily muscled chest, and they wore helmets with ornamental red frills on the topplete with a metal mask sculpted to look like a weeping face. These soldiers also were not armed with machetes - they had those same kind of shotgun fists I''d seen earlier at the Gun Runners.


    "Who are you?" the lead Legionnaire spoke up, walking towards me. "No one is allowed in this building without the express permission of the mighty Caesar." I palmed one of the MFC grenades behind me and did my best to pull out the pin with my thumb.


    "Oh, sorry, er, sir. I think I came here by mistake. Sorry about that. I''ll just be going," I kept a firm hold of the grenade, making sure the striker wouldn''t activate as I edged my way back towards the door.


    "You did not answer my question, Legionnaire. What is your name? Who is your Decanus?" The two soldiers on either side of the one advancing on me loaded shells into their ballistic fists.


    "Oh, you want to know my name?" I tossed the grenade at the Legionnaire, who ducked; it bounced off the back wall, and rolled back towards the soldiers. I bolted for the door, and just before I mmed it shut, I said "It''s Eff Ewe!" I leaned against the heavy metal door as hard as I could, and braced myself for the worst.


    There was a very loud, but muffled, explosion from inside; it sort of sounded like Arcade''s sma pistol, only amplified - like a million methane bubbles exploding all at once. The door shook so much, it felt like it was going to rattle my teeth out. But I held firm against the door. It probably helped that the door felt like it was two and a half inches of metal.


    I stayed leaning against the door for a few seconds after the explosion. I looked around - I couldn''t see any Legion soldiers nearby. I could hear the sounds of Legionnaires exercising off in the distance, but the sounds didn''t seem close enough for them to have heard anything. So, with trepidation, I opened the door and stepped back inside.


    As I expected, it was a mess. A rather satisfying mess, it must be said. The walls had been painted a satisfying mixture of blood and slowly smoldering glowing green goo. I looked down at my feet - one of the Legionnaires arms hadn''t beenpletely disintegrated, and the stump that used to connect to a now non-existent body was glowing with that same green goo and smoking. The walls, floors, and ceiling were surprisingly undamaged... as was a console on the right side of the building.


    This must be the console House told me about. I did my best to wipe away the blood that had been sttered on it, and looked for a slot simr to the one I''d seen in the penthouse of the Lucky 38... sure enough, there it was. I took the tinum Chip out of its hiding spot in my glove, and pressed it into the slot. There was a whir, and a click as it disappeared into the machine.


    A momentter, the ground rumbled, and a hatch in the floor opened up (discing a ratherrge piece of smoldering meat, which rolled off to the side), revealing a staircase. The console clicked again, and returned the tinum Chip. I grabbed it, drew Roscoe, and cautiously made my way down the stairs. It wasn''t that long of a trip - 20 steps, maybe - before I found myself at a rusted elevator door, emzoned with the emblem of the Lucky 38.


    "I guess I''m going the right way..." I said to myself, walking slowly towards the elevator doors. They creaked open with a shudder, discing a great deal of dust, and I cautiously stepped into the elevator. It didn''t feel like it went down too far before a second pair of doors on the opposite side opened up.


    I had Roscoe pointed at the doors as they opened - I had no idea what to expect, and I didn''t want to take any chances. It dumped me into a short, dimly-lit metal corridor, like it was running on emergency power. The smell was overpowering, like sulfur, and had a strange metallic taste; more than anything else though, it was <strong>hot. </strong>I started sweating as soon as the elevator doors opened. Cautiously, I made my way down the corridor, and found myself in a small room with arge monitor against one wall. The screen flickered, and the familiar face of Mr. House greeted me.


    "I see that you reached your destination safely," he said, his digital image still as a grave. "You look ridiculous, wearing that Legion uniform. But I suppose a level of subterfuge was needed to get here. Well then, shall we get to work?"


    "Sure. How about we start by you telling me what this ce is?" I asked, wiping the sweat off my brow.


    "It''s a facility I built many years before you were born," No shit, I thought. "You might think of it as a barracks. You''ll understand soon enough."


    "Alright... so why''d you send me down here?"


    "Please, don''t interrupt," House snapped. I just snorted. "As you know, the tinum Chip upgrades my Securitons'' operating software. Well... there''s an army of them here. The Securitons policing the Strip are but a fraction of the total number manufactured. The rest, I stored here. I need you to manually upload the data from the Chip to the facility''s primaryputer. There''s a terminal at the other end of the facility."


    "Seems easy enough," I said with a shrug.


    "Yes, well... there''s aplication." Wonderful.


    "What else is new?" I grumbled under my breath. "So what''s thisplication then?"


    "While I can broadcast to this screen, the equipment failure that made meatose for several decades after The War has severed my control of the facility''s systems. That means I can''t deactivate the security bots... most of which appear to be active, ording to the status board I''m looking at."


    "You''ve got to be shitting me!" I practically yelled at the screen. I wiped my brow again; I''d barely been down here five minutes, and I was feeling like I''d been out in the desert sun without water for hours. House kept his casino in sub-zero temperatures, but he kept this bunker as hot as a furnace? That didn''t make sense - or maybe this had something to do with that equipment failure?


    "I most certainly am not ''shitting you,'' Mr. Fisher. If I recall correctly, there should be a security room near the base of the stairs... perhaps you can deactivate them yourself?" I looked to the far end of the room - there was a door and, presumably, another set of stairs. Oh joy.


    "Alright. So, what are you going to do with this army of Securitrons, once I activate it?"


    "My army will do what an army does best - defend territory from invaders... and maintain order."


    "Alright, alright, fine... let''s get this damn thing over with," I red at the tinum Chip in my hands. I wish I''d never taken the job in the first ce. Hell, I was wishing I''d never taken the job when I got shot in the head. This damn thing was proving to be more trouble than it was worth.


    "Good. I won''t hold you up any longer," And with that, House''s image disappeared from the screen, and was reced by the words <strong>CONNECTION LOST...</strong>


    "Yeah, that''s not ominous or anything..." I made my way to the stairs, and stood in the doorway just long enough to register the sound of aser charging up. I ducked to the side and out of sight just in time to see ance of crimson energy cut through the air and impact into the ceiling with a fizzling pop.


    <strong>"HALT. THIS IS A LAWFUL USE OF DEADLY FORCE,"</strong> a mechanical voice called out, apanied by a very recognizable series of clunks. <strong>"ALL NON COMBATANTS, PLEASE: EXIT THE AREA IN AN ORDERLY FASHION."</strong> Yep, that clinched it - I was up against Protectrons. As far as I was concerned, I''d finally caught a break. Yes, they were armed withsers, but they were notoriously slow, legendarily dim-witted and stupid, and above all else: horrible shots. I heard once that if you''re fighting a Protectron, the safest ce is directly in front of it.


    I popped back into the doorframe, took aim with Roscoe, and... suddenly I became very much aware that I didn''t have VATS. Aser st arced up towards me, and shot perilously close to my ear. So I concentrated, took aim, and fired. A single clean shot right through the dome; there was a shower of ss and sparks, and the robot crashed backwards with a metal thud.


    When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I gingerly stepped over the broken robot, and quickly scanned the corridors for more robots. After the second nce, I leaned against one of the nearby walls, pounded a fist against my chest and coughed a few times; for some reason, I found the air down here difficult to breathe.


    I shook it off - I''ve never really beenfortable underground. I''ve ventured into a few Vaults in the past, and a few smaller abandoned fallout shelters, and I''ve hated them all. Just something about the closeness of the walls, and the idea that above your head was probably several hundred tons of earth and rock - and all it would take was the slightest nudge to make it copse and leave you with no way out.


    I eventually found the security room - if you could call it that. One wall was lined with a few lockers, and three RobCoputer terminals stuck out of the adjacent wall. In the corner was a pair of ammo boxes, so I decided to check and see if I could find anything useful. What I found was a sma rifle (with a melted firing chamber, making it little better than a paperweight), two microfusion cells, a hammer, some scrap metal, a roll of duct tape, two sma grenades, and an EMP grenade. So I grabbed the grenades and decided to try my luck with the terminals.


    The terminal on the far right,beled "sentry bots" above the monitor, waspletely broken. The terminal on the far left,beled "protectrons," looked like it was encrypted far too heavily for me to even attempt. But the one in the middle,beled "turrets" appeared to be well within my ability to crack.


    Now, I know what you''re thinking: Sheason, why would you, a courier living in the post apocalyptic wastnd, even bother learning how to hack aputer? The answer is pretty simple, actually. These terminals aren''t as rare as you might think, thanks to how durable they are. Being able to crack the security of one can be pretty useful - right now is probably a good case in point. As for how I''d know what to do? That''s thanks to that Big Book of Science I have in my trunk. There''s a whole chapter devoted to cracking the firmware BIOS ofputer terminals.


    All I had to do was remember the debugmands, sift through the lines of code that would pop up, and pick out the password from the noise. Of course, the heat wasn''t helping me think any. In fact, I was starting to get a headache, it was so damn hot. So, again, I wiped the sweat off my brow and pressed on. It took me a couple tries, but eventually I cracked the security, and disabled the turrets.


    With that done, I left the security room and made my way down the adjacent hallway that led deeper into the facility. It was getting a lot harder to breathe now, and my headache was getting worse; this couldn''t be just due to the heat and nerves. Something was seriously wrong. But I couldn''t think about that right now. I just had to finish the job and leave the Fort with Melody.


    A pair ofser sts cut through the air as I arrived at the end of the hallway, and I dove to the floor. Beyond the hallway''s exit was a decentlyrge atrium, and through the dim light I could just make out the shapes of two Protectrons slowly nking their way towards me, and firingsers wildly. I took careful aim and... I missed. I kept firing, and I kept missing. Finally, I was able tond two decent shots, and the robot fell. The same thing happened with the other one. What should have taken two bullets cost me what I had left of an entire 13 round clip. I only had 26 bullets left for Roscoe now.


    I picked myself up, and walked into the atrium, and noticed that the walls had windows - and looking in were Securitrons''... or, they would be looking in if they were activated. Their face screens were nk. I walked up to one of them to get a closer look, and by chance I nced behind it.


    "Holy shit," I said aloud to myself. "House wasn''t kidding." There were rows and rows of Securitrons lining the floor behind the ss. There were easily several hundred of the damn things in there... waiting.


    I wiped my brow again and picked up the pace. My headache was getting worse - my vision was starting to blur around the edges. I rushed down the corridors, past several disabled sentry turrets (I was coherent enough to be thankful that I''d been able to turn them off - they were Mark IVser turrets: they aren''t really better shots than Protectrons, but fire about 6sers a second. If I hadn''t turned them off, I probably would''ve been a smoking pile of ash by now.) and found myself in a generator room. I rounded a corner, and found myself face to face with about four Protectrons, who all shot moresers at me.


    "Give me a fuckin'' break already!" I yelled, popping off a trio of shots and diving back behind the generator. I tried to shake away my ever increasing headache.


    "Fuck it," I grabbed the pulse grenade, flipped open the button cover on the top, pressed the button and tossed it over the generator. There was an electric crackle, and a blue sh as the pulse grenade went off. Electricity arced off the walls, and I could hear pops and sparks as the Protectrons vitalponents overloaded and exploded, one by one.


    More stairs. Great.


    I only got halfway there before I unexpectedly lost my bnce. I grabbed at the wall to try and steady myself


    Shake it off. Keep going.


    Up the stairs.


    Turn the corner.


    Up more stairs.


    Finally. There it was: the same kind of console that opened the hatch in the weather station. Next to it was a window, with more nk-screened Securitrons looking in and waiting. I leaned against the console, palmed the Chip in my hands and started coughing. I saw red stter against the console.


    Fuck.


    Had I been hit by aser without realizing? Was something else wrong? I didn''t really have time to think about it. So I put the tinum Chip in the slot, and wiped the blood from my mouth. There was a soft whir from the machine, and then my entire world became noise. What was probably heavy hydraulics kicked in and started a rhythmic pounding that reverberated all through the facility. Outside the window, the Securitrons'' screens blinked and showed that same cartoon soldier face.


    The console clicked again, and spat out the tinum Chip. I grabbed it, put it back in it''s hiding spot, and started running back the way I came. I did my best to ignore the pounding in my head, and tried to force my vision to clear. Finally, I made my way back to the room with therge monitor against the wall. I was about to pass by and head back into the elevator when the screen winked back into life, and House started talking to me.


    "Your work here is done, Mr. Fisher. Return to the Lucky 38 so we can discuss the next steps," He said. I tried to nod, but all I ended up doing was leaning against the doorframe. I resisted the urge to cough, for fear of coughing up more blood. "You have a very bright future ahead of you. Thanks to your actions today, so does the rest of mankind."


    And then, without so much as waiting for a response (not like I''d be able to give one) the screen winked off again. Fine with me. I wasn''t really in the mood for another of House''s long-winded speeches right now.


    I stumbled back down the hallway, and copsed into the open elevator. The doors slid themselves shut agonizingly slow. When they finally shut, I immediately felt so much cooler. I was still sweating all over, and I could feel some blood leaking out of my mouth... and my nose, too. But at least I was out of that fucking underground deathtrap.


    The doors on the opposite side of the elevator opened, and I started walking towards the stairs. Before I could make my way up and out of the weather station, I felt my insides convulse violently, and before I knew what hit me, I started vomiting all over the walls. I couldn''t help myself.


    What the fuck was wrong with me?


    Ok. I just had to keep moving. Get up the stairs, get out of the weather station, find Melody, and leave the Fort. Easy.


    Well, I was able to get up the stairs easily enough. It wasn''t until I left the weather station that I ran into problems.


    I opened the door, and before I got five feet -


    WHACK.


    Then my world became darkness.

 Chapter 21: Caesar

    Chapter 21: Caesar


    Have you ever woken up, and not been entirely certain you were awake? The sensation of awareness, and the realization that you should, in fact, be awake, but you''re unable to breathe, unable to see, and unable to hear anything.


    It''s not pleasant.


    I woke up to that sensation. But a split secondter it was reced by the feel of cold waterpletely surrounding my head. I opened my mouth, and the taste of filthy water came rushing in. Water flooded my nostrils and my ears, and my eyes stung when I tried to open them. My first instinct was to struggle, try and find some air... but I couldn''t move. I could feel hands gripping both my arms, holding me in ce. And then I realized there was a hand on the back of my head, grasping my hair, and forcing me down into the water.


    The grip around my hair tightened, and my head was yanked out of the water. I gasped as soon as my head was free, trying to suck in as much air as my lungs could hold.


    "That''s enough. For now," I heard a calm, authoritative voice say. I tried to shake the water from my vision (which is a lot harder when someone is holding your hair). I know that voice...


    "I must say, Courier, I certainly didn''t expect to see you again. At least, not so soon."


    "Vulpes!" I spat. I coughed again, and my vision finally cleared. Standing in front of me was Vulpes Inculta, except he wasn''t wearing the sports equipment and fox head that I''d seen before in Nipton. This time, he was wearing that same kind of burnished metal armor and chestte I''d seen on the three Legionnaires in the weather station, except he didn''t have a helmet or ballistic fist. His hand rested instead on the hilt of the same sword I''d seen him wear on his hip at Nipton.


    I was actually somewhat surprised when I finally got a good look at his face - I hadn''t expected him to have white hair.


    "Did you really think you could just walk into the fortress of the mighty Caesar undetected? His eyes and ears see all." Vulpes smiled widely. His canine teeth seemed oddly sharper than they should''ve been. Or maybe whatever happened to me in the Securitron vault and being halfway drowned was having an effect on my perception. "And I am his eyes and ears."


    I coughed hard again, and saw a stter of blood fly out of my mouth into the barrel of water below my head. The water was slightly pink from, presumably, all the blood that was leaking out of my face.


    "Alright, so you caught me. Congratu-fuckintions," I spat out more blood, overshooting the barrel so itnded by his feet. "If you''re gonna kill me, get it over with." Vulpes merelyughed and crossed his arms over his chest.


    "Don''t worry your profligate head, Courier. I''m not going to kill you," He paused, then added softly "At least... not yet."


    "So what the fuck do you want with me then, if you''re not gonna off me?" Instead of replying, he merely pointed down. Guessing what wasing next, I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. Sure enough, the hand on the back of my head shoved my face back down beneath the water. I couldn''t tell how long my head was kept under. It probably wasn''t any longer than a minute or two before the hand gripping my hair pulled me back to the surface.


    "Don''t interrupt again, Courier," He walked towards me slowly as he spoke. "Here''s what will happen. We are going to bring you before Caesar. And then he will decide what to do with you." He nodded with his head, and I felt myself be lifted off the ground by the two Legion soldiers on either side of me. I tried to wriggle free, but they had grips like vices. It probably didn''t help that I was still feeling sick from the bunker. "Caesar wishes to see the one who has caused him no end of trouble."


    I hate being a prisoner.


    I know that seems kind of obvious, but this kind of situation has happened far too often for my liking. Of course, thest time I was a prisoner, all I had to contend with were half a dozen ipetent raiders, a couple of dogs, and a big pit. Those morons weren''t even smart enough to search me for weapons. Now though, I was surrounded by heavily armed, incredibly disciplined vers on either side and behind me.


    I couldn''t even turn my head to get a look behind me, because every time I even slightly moved my head, a hand on the back of my skull forced me to look forward, apanied by an "Eyes forward, profligate!"


    I had to take stock of my situation - and, I''ll be honest, everything seemed quite bleak. I couldn''t feel Roscoe, That Gun, the stolen machete, any of my spare ammo, or any of the Microfusion Cell grenades anywhere on my person. I couldn''t look around me. Both my arms were held by big burly guards. Who knows what was wrong with me from my rtively short time in the Securitron vault, but whatever it was, I couldn''t stop bleeding, and I still wanted to vomit. I didn''t have my Pip Boy, so even if I could somehow escape and get my guns and ammo, I was limited to VATS-lessbat. A thought shed through my head, wondering if it was a bad thing that I''d gotten so used to that in such a short time.


    About the only thing I had going for me at the moment was the fact that I still had the tinum Chip. I could feel it within the folds of my left glove, hidden away discreetly. The fact that I still had it was either very good, or very bad.


    I didn''t have much time to dwell on it, either - because my guards had finally guided me up to the highest point of the fort, where a veryrge red tent sat. The entrance was guarded by two of those same kind of Legion soldiers with the metal breasttes and metal facemasks that I''d seen guarding the Securitron vault. Above the tent p that acted as a door was arge bronze disk, emzoned with the image of a man in profile with a prominent hook nose.


    My guards shoved me through the scratchy red cloth, and I finally got a good look at Caesar. He was slouching in a throne made out of spears, animal skulls, furs, and red cloth. Around his head was a wreath of gold ted leaves, partially obscuring his mostly bald head. His nose was, if anything, more absurdly prominent in real life than it was on the brass relief outside his tent. His armor was simr to the breasttes of the guards on either side of him, except it was much more borate, and a red sash was draped over his shoulders, held at his left shoulder by a golden disk.


    Caesar merely red at me as the two soldiers shoved me further into the tent. When I was standing roughly 10 paces away from the throne, Vulpes came up next to me and smacked me hard behind the knees with what felt like a riding crop. It stung like a motherfucker, and my knees buckled reflexively from the strike. The weight of the two soldiers pressing down on my shoulders forced me down on the ground.


    "You will bend the knee before the mighty Caesar, profligate!" I would''ve spat more blood at him, except I was slightly distracted when he took the riding crop and struck me in the back of the head. Not surprisingly, I saw stars.


    "So," Caesar finally spoke. He started drumming his fingers on the arm rest, the noise drawing my gaze - and I realized he was wearing a Discer Glove, a very rare piece of old world technology. Before I could question it further, he continued speaking. "I finally get to meet the Courier who has aplished so much in so little time. I''ve heard a lot about you. I thought you''d be taller."


    "And I thought you''d have more hair," I tried to smirk, but the image was probably ruined by the trail of blood I could feel leaking out of the corner of my mouth. Vulpes whacked me upside the head with his stick again.


    "You certainly have balls, I''ll give you that much. I mean, a man nearly kills you, and your response is to track him across the breadth of the Mojave? You arrive on the strip, and assassinate the head of the Chairmen in his own casino - and get away with it? You waltz into the Lucky 38 like someone left you a key under the doormat? Then something happens to Mr. House''s robots - some kind of military upgrade? When you set your mind to something, you get results. I''d like that... if you hadn''t set your mind on fucking with me, too."


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about. I didn''t think anyone was fucking with you except the NCR. Hell, if your ass wasn''t such a big target, stickin'' in the air like tha-" Vulpes whacked me in the back of the head again, cutting me off, and I saw stars. It was worth it, though - if this really was it, and I was going to die, I''d be damned if I wasn''t going out like a smartass.


    "You know damn well what I''m talking about, Courier. And it''s not like it''s been hard to track your progress - you haven''t exactly been keeping a low profile. Six of my patrols across the river wiped out. A very reliable ve trader my men can rely on shot in the head on the road to Novac. My camp at Nipton nearly wiped out. And now you try and sneak into my camp, heading straight for the one ce with doors that can''t be pried open or drilled open or sted open. I know opening the doors like that don''t work, because all that, I tried. Isn''t that interesting?"


    "Oh,e on. You must be exaggerating. I only know about the one patrol in Henderson." I was whacked upside the head, yet again.


    "I don''t know what''s on the other side of those doors," Caesar continued, ignoring me. "And I don''t like not knowing. But if the ground shaking a few minutes was any indication - you do. So you''re going to tell me how you got in, and then you''re going to do exactly what I tell you."


    "I guess the all seeing eyes of the mighty Caesar aren''t so fucking all seeing now, are they?" I coughed out augh. My fist clenched around the tinum Chip. Apparently, Caesar still didn''t know about it. Or maybe he did, and he was just trying to get me to admit it. "I can''t tell you how I got in. I don''t know. But if you want to know what''s inside, I can tell you that much."


    "So what the fuck are you waiting for? Speak." Caesar sneered.


    "It''s," I coughed again, and felt more blood leak out of both my nose and mouth. "It''s your dad, taking it up the ass."


    The next thing I knew, I was being pulled off the ground by my hair, and Caesar''s left fist cracked me across the jaw. It hurt, sure, but I stillughed at how easily I set him off. He grabbed the hair on the top of my head and forced me to look right at his gigantic nose.


    "Do you think this is a game, you fucking little piece of shit? Do you think I won''t kill you if you don''t cooperate? You are in my house, and when I give you an order, you''ll fucking obey me!"


    "Alright, fine. You wanna know what''s in the bunker? It''s an army of robots. What do you want me to say?" Caesar just red at me even harder. He was starting to turn red. I almost thought steam was going to pour out of his ears in a minute.


    "You just don''t get it, do you? The weapons I wield are forged from blood, flesh, sinew, bone - mortal stuff. Fragile even," He really started getting angrier, spittle flying in my face. "And yet my Legion obeys me, even unto death. Why? Because they live to serve the greater good, and they know no alternatives. Even if I did believe you - which I don''t - House''s machines, and all the technology of the old world... what do they propose? The possibility of victory without sacrifice. No blood spilled, just... rivets. That''s not an idea I want put in cirction. If mankind is going to survive this moment in history, it needs warriors, not gadgets."


    "So why are you wearing a discer glove, then?" I retorted without missing a beat. His eyes went wide and he stepped back about a foot, but his face was still stered with a look of pure, unfiltered rage. "You talk of shunning old world technology, but you''re carrying a piece of it on your fist. You know you can''t win against the NCR with blood alone, sincest time you tried to cross the river, you got fucked in the ass and ran away with your tail between your legs." I fully expected Vulpes to whack me with his stick again, but when he didn''t, I continued. "That''s why the soldiers on this side aren''t wearing sports equipment, isn''t that right? And why you have that howitzer pointed at the dam. You can''t win against the tech from the old world unless you use some of it yourself, and you fucking know it. "


    "You know what I hate more than anything else, Caesar?" I spat a bit of blood close to his feet. "<strong>Hypocrites</strong>. And you''re the biggest one of all." Caesar looked about ready to have an aneurysm. He was grinding his teeth, and I swear I saw a blood vessel pop in one of his eyes. Then he closed his mouth into a scowl, and inhaled sharply through his nose.


    "Let him go," is all he said to the two Legion soldiers on either side of me. Without question, they let go of my arms and immediately started backing up. Before I could run, there was a crackle of electricity surrounding Caesar''s discer glove. For some reason, all I really remember of the actual point of impact when he hit me in the chest was the sonic boom that made my ears pop.


    For the second time in what must have only been ten minutes, my world turned into darkness and pain.


    When I regained consciousness, I couldn''t really breathe. I mean, theoretically, I could - I didn''t wake up with my face underwater like before - but the simple act of breathing sent waves of agony through my entire body, and every part of me just felt <em>wrong</em>. I was lying on my back, staring up at the sky, not knowing who the fuck I was, where I was. or what in the hell I was doing.


    I rolled over, and tried to look around. My vision was blurry, and my head was swimming, but I was coherent enough to recognize that I was in the middle of a sandy pit, surrounded by metal walls, and that I was almost certainly screwed. My insides heaved, and I vomited a mixture of blood and bile onto the sand.


    It took all my willpower to force myself to keep breathing, despite the misery and torture filling my lungs with air had be. Very slowly, I picked myself up and tried to stand on my own two feet. Every part of me was either shaking or screaming at me to get back down on the ground and just die. It was around that point that I heard a voicee from somewhere above me... a voice that I wasing to despite with an intense hatred.


    "Due to your crimes against the Legion," Vulpes shouted, his voice echoing in my ears. "And due to the extremely disrespectful manner in which you spoke to the mighty Caesar, Son of Mars and the Lord and Master of all he sets his eyes upon, despite his extremely generous and forgiving mood as your host, you, Sheason Fisher, also known as The Courier, are hereby dered an enemy of Caesar''s Legion. You are therefore to be sentenced to a trial bybat in the Arena. May you die with the honor you never possessed in life, profligate."


    Even through the haze and pain, I remember thinking just how fucking ironic it was that Vulpes was saying I had no honor. But I didn''t really have time to dwell on that little mental nugget, because a metal gate - at least, I thought it was a metal gate, given the sound of grinding metal it made - was opening in the wall opposite me. I coughed again, and my right knee buckled, sending me to my hands and knees.


    And there, sitting in front of me on the sand, was a machete.


    I grabbed it without thinking, and unsteadily got back onto my feet. When I looked up to see what hade through the door, I couldn''t help butugh grimly at the strange sense of dj vu that washed over me. If I was only almost certainly screwed before, I waspletely and absolutely fucked now. The soldier standing in front of me was nearly a head taller than me, with huge bulging muscles that looked about ready to burst out of his skin, and a metal helmet and face concealing mask that looked like a cross between a Spanish Conquistador helmet and ader. In one hand he carried a massive two-headed axe, and in the other he carried a sword as big as my torso. The whole getup put me in mind of an outfit I''d seen in an old diator movie holotape I''d seen years ago.


    I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. And then he chuckled.


    "You''d think they would''ve given me a challenge this time," he said in a voice I was sure only I heard. He looked up, pounded a fist against his chest, and shouted: "Ave, mighty Caesar! We who are about to die, salute you!"


    I probably wouldn''t get a better chance, so while he was saluting to Caesar, I shoved the machete towards his bare chest. I was hoping my luck might turn, and he''d actually die like he said he would. But my movements were slow and sluggish, and both my brain and body weren''t cooperating. The machete was maybe 6 inches away from him when he brought his sword down against my machete. It was hit with such a tremendous force, it was knocked out of my hands and flew through the air, banging against the metal wall.


    "... Fuck." I think is all I managed to say. I''m not really sure. What I am sure of was that I was backhanded by a massive fist, and sent sprawling to the ground. I slid against the sand, and only came to a stop when my head banged against the metal wall of the arena. My ears started ringing... either that, or he wasughing. Maybe both.


    "This is going to be over too quickly!" I barely heard him say over the ringing in my ears. I tried to force my eyes open, and push myself up off the ground. Everything was sideways. I saw a pair of feet through the fog, and then I saw an axe and a sword drop to the ground on either side of the feet. And lying on the ground right in front of me, between myself and the slowly advancing pair of feet, was the machete.


    Surely, trying to do the same thing twice couldn''t possibly yield the same result, right?


    I summoned up what little strength I had left, and pushed myself off the ground, grabbing the machete as I moved. My vision righted itself, despite still being hazy, and I rushed forwards at the giant b of Legion meat. I swung the machete, and...


    He blocked my arm with his. My swing didn''t even manage to get close. Before I knew what was happening, he wrapped his arm around mine, and -


    SNAP.


    Hang on, my arm isn''t supposed to bend that way.


    I think I screamed. I know I dropped the machete. He let go of my broken arm, and kicked me in the stomach. It''s not like I even stumbled backwards; I just flew andnded t on my back, looking up at the sky again. Every single nerve in my body was screaming at me to just give up and die already.


    But he wasn''t finished. The massive mountain of meat and metal was standing above me now, obscuring my view of the moon. He brought down his foot on my hand, and slowly started to apply pressure. I couldn''t scream if I wanted to. My lungs werepletely empty. Everything was pain. I couldn''t think. I couldn''t move. I could barely breathe.


    "Do you yield, profligate?" He growled at me.


    "Ffffff..." I tried to squeeze out words. "Ffffff..." was all I could manage.


    "What was that?" He growled again. "Speak up!"


    And then, for a very brief moment, I was able to find words again.


    "Ffffffuuuck... your... mother..." I forced out before the back of my throat began to fill with blood. My vision was clouding over to such an extent that I could barely see the moon as it sped across the sky and suddenly changed directions.


    Wait.


    Hang on.


    What was the moon doing?


    Apparently, I wasn''t hallucinating, because the Legion soldier who had, just seconds earlier, been crushing the bones in my hand, stepped back and looked towards the sky at the spherical, moon shaped object getting closer.


    And then, I heard the most glorious sound in the world: tinny, patriotic marching music belching from an Eyebot''s speaker grille.


    ED-E zoomed through the air above my head, and I heard the distinctive sound of hisser discharging. There was rumble in the air, that sounded like an explosion, and the mountain of meat moved away from me, presumably to pick up his weapons. I rolled onto my good arm, and did my best to cough as much blood out of my throat as I could, just so I could breathe again.


    "What manner of sorcery is this?" I heard him say. I couldn''t really see anything. I certainly didn''t expect him to get an answer from a very familiar voice.


    "This ain''t sorcery, simpleton!" Veronica said in a dissonantly cheerful voice. "This is us being big damn heroes!"


    I forced myself to look up, but I could still barely see; my right eye had started to swell shut, and I couldn''t open it. But I was able to see enough. The Legion diator was charging towards Veronica; she was practically dancing around him. Off in the distance I could hear familiar sounds: the discharge of ED-E''sser, the bellow of Cass'' shotgun, and the thunderous boom of Boone''s sniper rifle. All around I could hear men shouting and boots tromping against the ground.


    "You little bitch!" I heard him yell after he swung and missed a second time. "Do you really think a woman can beat me, the mighty Otho?" He swung a third time, and missed yet again; Veronica had rolled underneath him, standing up behind him. Before he realized what was happening, she brought the mallet of her super-sledge up in between his legs.


    "Lets both be girls then, how''s that!" He howled in pain, but she didn''t pay it any mind. She just reared the hydraulic sledgehammer back, and brought it down right in the middle of his back. He copsed forward on his face, hitting the ground with enough force to shake the ground. Granted, the ground didn''t shake nearly as much as a momentter when Veronica brought the massive mallet down a final time onto the back of his head, practically liquidizing it. There really wasn''t a skull left, just a few jagged bits of metal and thin red paste that seemed to coat everything.


    The whole time she''d been fighting him, I''d been trying (and failing) to get up. My face was still slowly leaking blood, and it was still very, very hard to breathe, but at least I wasn''t coughing or vomiting all over myself anymore. Every time I tried to push myself onto my feet, my muscles refused, and I copsed back into the pool of my own blood.


    "Holy shit!" Veronica shouted out, rushing over to me. "Sheason! Shit, c''mon man, tell me you''re still alive..." She reached down and grabbed (thankfully) my still functioning arm. I reached out, and did my best to hold onto her; she took the hint and helped me up.


    "I had ''im on th'' ropes..." I choked out, trying to ignore the trails of blooding out of my face.


    "I know you did. Now, we gotta get out of here! Arcade''s waiting for us down at the docks."


    We started moving. I tried to keep my eyes open, to keep conscious... but it was a losing battle. I''d already lost who knows how much blood. But despite the astronomical pain I was feeling, despite how weak I was, and despite the fact that I was probably almost dead... now that I was moving and no longer in immediate imminent danger, there was only one thing in my mind.


    Melody.


    I promised her I''d get her out.


    And I keep my promises.


    "Wh... we can''t... can''t leave yet..." I said to Veronica in between ragged breaths.


    "Don''t talk, Fisher, you''re just in shock," she said, tightening her grip on me. "Cass! We gotta go!"


    I heard another boom nearby, and looked up just in time to see Cass unloading her shotgun into a nearby Legionnaire. She still had Boone''s rifle slung across her back.


    "Take THAT y''misogynistic FUCK! Whadda ya think''a women now?"


    "CASS!" Veronica shouted, and my ears started ringing again. "We gotta go!" Cass turned around, and all the color drained from her face when she saw me.


    "Oh fuck, Sheason!" We all started moving to the exit, Cass covering us with her shotgun. She turned to Veronica and asked "Is he... I mean, he''s not dead, is he?"


    "I jus'' got th'' wind knocked outta me," I coughed again. "I''ll b''fine... but we... we gotta find..."


    "Shut up man, don''t talk! Just... we''ll get y''outta here, just shut up!" She started looking around frantically. "Where the fuck is Boone?"


    I wasn''t worried about Boone at that particr moment. What little part of my brain that was still functioning knew he could take care of himself. But Melody was still in the camp somewhere... and I couldn''t get them to listen to me. I could barely speak, and my vision was clouding over badly again. Everything was starting to go dark. The indistinct sounds of chaos and gunfire filled my ears. I felt my head start to sag... and then a hand started pping my face.


    "Stay with me, Fisher!" I could barely hear Cass'' voice now, even though part of my brain registered that she was close enough that I could feel her breath on my face. Or maybe I was just imagining it. "Don''t you dare fuckin'' die on me!"


    "We... we gotta... Melody, she''s..." My throat was starting to close up. It felt like we were going downhill, and it felt like the world was both moving around me at a million miles an hour and like my legs were caught in quicksand. I was forcing myself to think, but everything was just so...


    "Boone!" I heard a voice that sounded like it was next to me and miles away at the same time. I think it was Veronica. "Eyes up soldier! We! Are! Leaving!" I heard another voice, much more distant.


    "...ave a shot!" was all I could remember him saying.


    There was a crack in the air like thunder.


    And then everything went ck.

 Chapter 22: Success and Failure

    Chapter 22: Sess and Failure


    It was the middle of the night when I found myself walking along the streets of New Vegas. At least, I''m pretty sure it was New Vegas. I was walking past the Freeside sign, and off in the distance I could see the skyscrapers of all the casinos on the strip. But... something was wrong somehow. There was a subtle strangeness in the atmosphere permeating everything...


    Was I asleep? Was this a dream? I mean, I couldn''t quite recall how I got here. I didn''t think this was a dream, though: for one thing, I never questioned a dream until after I''d already woken up. So why would I start now? Besides, this felt different than a dream. It was just incredibly hard to put my finger on just what was striking me as odd...


    That was when it hit me like an alpha Deathw punching me in the face: there were no people. This was Las Vegas Boulevard, right in the middle of Freeside, and in the short time I''d been in Vegas, I''d never seen it empty at any time, day or night. So I kept walking, looking for any signs of life at all. What I found... didn''t really qualify. It was the entrance to The Strip.


    There weren''t any Securitrons. There weren''t any spotlights. The neon lights that previously announced "Wee to The Strip" were missing. What I saw instead were dozens of gs and banners hanging off the wall:rge, red gs, emzoned with the image of a golden bull. The top of the wall was dotted with torches and fire pits. And right above the gate was arge bronze disk, emzoned with the relief of Caesar in profile.


    "What the hell?" I said out loud. I couldn''t help myself.


    "It''s a damn shame, isn''t it? The greatest city left in the world, and it''s been reduced to scrap by an army of barbarians," The voice came out of nowhere and made me jump. I spun around, trying to find the source, and my eyes fell on thest person I ever expected to see again.


    "Benny?!" I couldn''t believe my eyes. But there he was, wearing his ck and white checkered jacket and looking up at the city with his hands in his pockets. "How are... I mean... you''re-"


    "Dead?" He almost smirked as he took out a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket, grabbing one of the smokes with his mouth. "Yeah... It''s impossible, isn''t it? Talking to a dead guy. Well... unless, of course, the cat doing the talking is already dead himself. Don''t you think that''s interesting, Courier?"


    A horrible sinking feeling materialized in the pit of my stomach. Benny just lit the cigarette in his mouth and took a long draw.


    "No. No way. There''s just no fucking way..." I couldn''t bring myself to finish that thought.


    "I have to admit, I expected to see you a lot sooner," he let out a puff of smoke. "Way I understand it, you bit the big one only a few days after I did. But here you arrive now, months gone by, having missed all the action.


    "But this doesn''t make sense!" I shouted. "How am I dead? How are you the only one here? Why are you being so civil to me? What the fuck is going on?!" Benny just sighed.


    "Yeah... that''s about what I thought. This is gonna take a while. Smoke?" He offered the open box of cigarettes to me, but I waved them away. He just shrugged and continued offering them to me. "It''s not like they''re gonna kill you a second time, dig?"


    "Maybeter," I replied. He chuckled, and moved towards the front gate.


    "C''mon Courier. Let''s go for a walk."


    The next thing I knew, Benny and I were walking along The Strip... or what was left of it. There were Legionnaires everywhere, and ves in rags being led away in chains. The road was lined with heads on spikes and crosses. Some of the crosses had bodies tied or nailed to them; some... only had skeletons left. From afar, the casinos had looked mostly intact, but now that I saw them up close I realized that every building on The Strip looked like they''d been dropped in a warzone. There wasn''t a single structure that didn''t have hundreds of bullet holes or copsed sections... except for the Lucky 38. Amazingly, that was the only building that looked rtively untouched.


    "Alright, can you start exining to me what the fuck is going on?" I said looking around. A group of Legionnaires passed us by, not even looking up. "And why is no one paying any attention to us?"


    "God, but are you thick, aren''t you?" Benny just chuckled as the two of us walked down the middle of The Strip. "What part of bein'' dead don''t you get, Courier? They''re not paying attention to us, because they can''t see us. They can''t see us, because we no longer belong to the world of the living. As for what''s going on, I thought it was obvious. The Legion''s captured Vegas, and Caesar has turned it into his own personal Rome. You diggin'' the vibe I''mying down, daddy-o?"


    "I..." My mind was trying its best toe to grips with this. It was a lot to take in, in a very short amount of time. "Do you know how I died, at least?"


    "Massive internal bleeding. It didn''t help that you had radiation poisoning from House''s vault under the Fort." Benny took another draw from his cigarette, and tossed it aside. "At least, that''s what it looked like on the ride back to Vegas. I''m not a doctor, so I don''t know for sure. I''m sure Usanagi''s here... somewhere. Damn near everyone else I knew in Vegas died when Caesar rolled into town. I''ve never run into her though."


    "Radiation poisoning?" I couldn''t help but sigh. "Not exactly the most dignified death I could''ve asked for. Did I at least get a proper burial?" When I said that, Bennyughed out loud, and took out another smoke.


    "Yeah... you had a burial like mine." I thought about that for a second. And then my heart sank.


    "I think I''ll take one of those smokes now," I said with a grimace. He patted me on the shoulder, handing me the box of cigarettes.


    "Sorry about that, kid, but your friends had bigger fish to fry, what with the Legion right on the tail of that hopped-up hot rod of yours. They couldn''t worry about putting you in the ground when you finally bought it. The only one who stayed by your corpse was the robot, but the tin-can didn''t exactly have any hands."


    "So what happened to them?" As I asked, he offered his lighter and lit my cigarette. "My friends, I mean."


    "Well..." Benny seemed to think for a minute before responding. "The robot didn''t leave. He hovered around you, trying to protect your body ''til the Legion found him. It took them a while, but they eventually smashed him up. Cass...st I saw of her, she was driving that Corvega of yours West. Veronica went back to her bunker, and I haven''t seen her since, but I doubt she survived. Hidden Valley was blown up a few weeks after the Legion took Vegas. And Boone, well, he staged a suicide mission against the Legion. Took out several hundred Legionaries before they finally caught him. They crucified him outside the Vegas walls. When Legate Lanius was going topliment him for his ''reckless abandon,'' Boone spat tobo in his eye. I have to admit, though, Arcade''s the one I feel the most sorry for."


    "What do you mean? What happened to Arcade?" I felt like I was not going to like the answer. I was right.


    "He was captured by the Legion a few weeks after you died. Apparently, Caesar made Arcade his personal physician, and spent thest few months ''speaking with him on philosophical matters.'' I''m guessing that Caesar isn''t as good a conversationalist as he thinks he is, because a few days ago, Arcade cut his own guts out with a scalpel and his bare hands. And wouldn''t you know it, he was the only doctor in the Legion."


    I felt ill. I couldn''t rightly see how, given that I was already dead, so by all rights I shouldn''t have been feeling anything. Then again, I''ve never been dead before, so I had no idea if feeling anything at all was supposed to be normal or not.


    "How do you even know all this?" I asked, trying to force my brain to process everything and to force the bile back down my throat. The smoke was helping, oddly enough. I think the tobo was calming me down. Part of me was wondering if Benny had rolled something else into those smokes.


    "When you''re dead, you have a lot of time to yourself. I''ve been wandering around the Mojave, trying to make sense of things. Watched you for a bit, till you died. Then I watched your friends. And then I watched the Legion take Vegas. Now hang on, we''re almost here." I looked up at the building he''d brought us to.


    "The Tops?" I was frankly amazed it was still standing. The top three floors (and many others besides) were copsed, but most of the building was still standing. "What are we doing here?"


    "I want to get a drink. And I figured you could use one too, Courier. So, we''re heading up to my old office. It''s high enough the Legion troops just leave it alone. Not that it really matters, since they can''t see me, but hey, even though I''m dead I don''t want to drink around those fucking savages, dig?"


    "Can I ask something else?" Benny nodded as the two of us made our way through the lobby of the Tops. All the slot machines and ckjack tables were gone - and reced with cages, full of ves. "Why are you being so nice to me?"


    "Say what, daddy-o?"


    "Well... don''t take this the wrong way," I took a draw from the smoke and let the poisons and carcinogens fill my lungs. "But I haven''t exactly forgiven you for shooting me in the face that one time. And I can''t imagine you''re too pleased with me for beating you to death." He just shrugged.


    "Hey man, that was just business, like I told you. It wasn''t anything personal. I''m pretty sure that if I was in your shoes, I would''ve done the same thing."


    "You kind of did."


    "Yeah... I suppose," He shrugged as the two of us walked up the stairs towards the 13th floor. "And hell, it''s not like it matters anyway. Still, it did kind of annoy me how House started grooming you to be the new number two after the big man had me dialed in.


    "New number two?" I took another drag of the smoke. "The hell are you talking about?"


    "You mean you didn''t notice? House was pulling the same smoke and mirrors routine he pulled on me when he turned the Boot Riders into the Chairmen. When he realized I was working against him, he started looking for a new number two. And then you showed up on his doorstep."


    "Really." I tried to keep my voice t as the two of us made our way across the 13th floor to his office. But to be honest... Benny was starting to make sense. And that was scaring the <em>piss</em> out of me.


    "I''ll be honest... I see a lot of myself in you, Courier. So did House, apparently."


    "Don''t take this the wrong way, Benny," I said as the two of us opened the doors to his office. This wasn''t room 1337, where I''d found Yes Man - this room was different, and had windows looking out over The Strip. "But I don''t see any simrity between the two of us."


    "No?" Benny walked over to the bar near the window, and started pulling out sses and bottles of alcohol. "You don''t see any simrities, or do you just not <em>want</em> to? Because I''ll tell you what I see when I look at the two of us: I see a pair of failures."


    "What, because we''re both dead?" I sat down at the bar, and he handed me a ss of Old Royale Whiskey on the rocks. Benny just smirked, and started pouring himself a ss of scotch.


    "You could say that. I mean, I failed in my attempt to free Vegas from House."


    "Wait, what?" Benny downed his ss of scotch in one go and poured himself another. I just sort of stared at him dumbfounded for a minute. "What are you talking about, free Vegas?"


    "What did you think I was doing when I stole the tinum Chip? It certainly wasn''t because I wanted to rule Vegas like House. You never got a chance to know the Overboss like I did, Courier, but he''s the one with the hard-on for power and control. Everything was about the bottom line with him. Personally, I liked life when the Chairmen were still called the Boot Riders. Things were... simpler. I didn''t have to put on an act and I didn''t have to run things." Benny shrugged, and drank more of his scotch.


    "Really?"


    "Oh sure! I hated running things. It was all... money and business and... rules. I mean, yeah, there were perks, but..." he stared at his ss of scotch for a second, and then set it down and looked right at me. "Do you know the city I wanted to see when I stole the tinum Chip?" I shook my head, and he continued. "I wanted to see a Vegas that was free. Free from the tyranny of House''s Old World rule. Free from the bullshit and fake democracy of the NCR. Free from the ve chains of the Legion. I wanted to make a Vegas that was independent. No gods. No masters. Free."


    I was dumbfounded. Was this the same man who shot me in the face? Surely not. There was just so much to take in all at once. The room was silent for a moment. He''d made his point, and I couldn''t think of anything else to say. So I grabbed my ss of whiskey, and was about to take another drink... when I started to hear a strange <em>beeping</em> sound.


    "The hell is that <em>noise</em>?" I looked around, trying to find the source of the <em>beeping</em>. Benny looked at his left <em>wrist</em>, and I could see that the <em>watch</em> he was wearing was, apparently, the <em>source</em> of the noise.


    "Damn," he said aloud, sighing. "I was hoping we''d have a bit more <em>time</em>. Ah well." He downed a third ss of <em>scotch</em>. I was getting really <em>confused</em> now.


    "More <em>time</em>? More <em>time</em> for what?"


    "More <em>time</em> to talk," He put his hands in his <em>pockets</em> and shrugged. "Let me <em>level</em> with you for a second - I haven''t been entirely <em>honest</em> with you about something." This was <em>sounding</em> more like the Benny who''d shot me in the face. Either way, the <em>beeping</em> just got louder. "But it seems... we''re <em>out of time. And now, I think, you need to wake up, Courier..."</em>


    My eyes snapped open.


    I wasn''t in Benny''s office in The Tops. Benny wasn''t around. I was lying on my back, staring at a ceiling somewhere. The beeping was still going on. I looked to my right, and my eyes fell on a woman in a whiteb coat.


    "You woke up."


    Perhaps a bad choice of inflection. Is she implying I could''ve just as easily not?


    I rolled my head around, trying to take stock of my surroundings, and was immediately greeted by ED-E''s speaker grille hovering right in front of me.


    "Bout time yer crippled ass woke up," I heard Cass'' voice from next to me. ED-E hovered backwards out of the way, and I could see everyone standing around me: Cass was sitting to the left of me, looking at me with a satisfied smirk. Veronica was behind her, Arcade was standing next to the woman with the whiteb coat, and Boone was leaning up against the back wall with his arms folded across his chest. He wasn''t wearing the armor and trenchcoat anymore, but I did see that same desert-camo sniper rifle slung across his back.


    It took a few seconds, but I eventually figured out where I was. I was lying on one of the recovery beds in Dr. Usanagi''s medical clinic, just east of Vegas (it was the same ce I''d gotten the bullet taken out of my knee). I also figured out what that damn beeping noise was - there were several sensors stuck to my skin, hooked up to an EKG that was monitoring my heart rate. And, surprisingly enough, on my left wrist was my Pip-Boy.


    "So..." I shifted in the bed, trying my damnedest to sit up. "What the hell happened?"


    "You very nearly died, is what happened Mr. Fisher," Dr. Usanagi walked past Boone and into the room, clutching a clipboard.


    "Oh," I suppose I must''ve sounded like a real dope, but now that I was getting my faculties back, I was starting to remember that yes, after all I''d been through, it made a certain amount of sense.


    "I must say, I hadn''t expected to see you back in my care so soon." I shifted ufortably in the bed and scratched the back of my head sheepishly.


    "Yeah, I''ve been gettin'' that a lot," For some reason I thought of Vulpes. I''m not entirely certain why. "So what all was wrong with me?"


    "What <em>wasn''t</em> wrong with you would be a more pertinent question." The tiny Asian woman somehow was able to look both relieved and annoyed at the same time.


    "Well, don''t keep me in suspense, doc. C''mon, spill."


    "Where to begin? For one thing, you were suffering from acute radiation poisoning when your friends brought you to me. Your body had to be flushed of the 257 rads you had absorbed before I could even attempt to diagnose any of your other ailments," I felt a twitch in the back of my mind. Hadn''t Benny said something... She continued before I could think about it any more. "Eight of your ribs were cracked, there were shards of a broken 9mm round in your right corbone, your right arm was broken in two ces, all of the metacarpals and proximal phnges in your right hand had been shattered, several of your organs including your stomach and your liver were badly hemorrhaging, your left lung waspletely copsed, and both the cornea and lens in your right eye had been damaged wholly beyond repair. Not to mention the dozens of cuts,cerations, and bruises all over your body..." She removed her sses and shook her head when she looked at me. "Speaking frankly, I''ve never seen <strong>anyone</strong> in such shit shape cling to life so stubbornly."


    "I might have had a little something to do with that, I think..." I heard Arcade mutter just loud enough for us to hear him. Veronica nudged him in the ribs.


    "Yeah, you helped stabilize him on the trip here. But putting the Pip-Boy back on his arm, that <em>probably</em> helped. Just a bit." I wasn''t really paying attention to the two of them going back and forth. I was just going over everything Usanagi said was wrong with me - how the fuck was I still alive?


    "So... how long was I out?" I said when I finally was able to find the words.


    "Only two days. I expected you to be under for a week and a half - at minimum - after the surgery. Usually it takes patients at least that long for their bodies to fully ept any bionics imnted into their system. The fact that you''re even conscious so fast is absolutely stunning. You should be in a medical journal."


    "Wait, hang on - imnts?" My mind hadtched onto that word and wouldn''t let go. She merely nodded.


    "Well yes, your body had sustained so much trauma that cybeics were needed simply to fix you. I had to rece your copsed lung with a synthetic one, your right eye had to be reced with a bionic lens, I reinforced your ribcage with a NEMEAN sub-dermal armor weave, a PHOENIX Monocyte breeder..." She kept speaking, but her words started to mesh together. I tried to listen, but it was all a bit much to take in.


    So. I was a cyborg now.


    When the fuck did my life be so weird?


    "...and finally, two nano-bionic weave imnts to repair the structural damage your arms sustained. Your body should work better now than it ever has. Some of my best work, I must admit." There was something niggling me, however. And then the bottlecap dropped.


    "Doc... how much is all this gonna cost?"


    "All told? 64,430 caps." Every single person in the room - even ED-E - seemed to be staggered by that seemingly absurd number. Even I nched a bit.


    "Wh- y''never told us it''d be that much, doc!" Cass looked the most worried of all. She was probably worried that they''d all have to chip in to pay for my medical bills. I justposed myself, and shrugged.


    "The amount of cybeics you put in me, I thought it''d be more than that, honestly," I said. Dr. Usanagi just chuckled a bit.


    "Well, to be honest, I did give you a bit of a discount - I haven''t gotten the chance to perform surgery like that since my days in medical school, back at the Angel''s Boneyard." When she said ''surgery'' her eyes lit up with a strange sort of mania, that made me feel rather ufortable. I began to wonder what she looked like when I was under the knife... and promptly decided I was better off not knowing.


    "So, here''s a question - can I take this off and get my clothes back?" I sat up, and tapped at one of the sensors still stuck to my chest. "Waking up in a doctors office wearing nothing but my boxers has been a disturbingly regr urrencetely."


    "That all depends - do you have the caps to pay for your surgery, or are you going to have to owe me? Because those cybeics keeping you alive are quite expensive."


    "Yeah, I have the money in my car," and with that, I ripped the sensors off my chest. "You''ll be able to ept NCR dors, right? Caps take up more space than bills, and I''m pretty sure I have at least..." I thought about the conversion rate for a minute. "... $161,075 in NCR currency." Usanagi nodded, showing me where my shirt, my pants, my boots, and my leather jacket were being held.


    As I was putting my pants on, I realized every one of mypanions (except for ED-E) were just sort of staring at me.


    "What?" I asked.


    "Did..." Cass was looking at me like I had a tree growing out of my head. "Did y''jus'' figure that math out in yer head jus'' now? Th'' fuck did y''do that?"


    The group of us started walking out of Usanagi''s clinic, towards where Cass had told me she''d parked my car. Since, apparently, she had been the one to drive us away from Cottonwood Cove.


    "Alright," I said, fishing out my keys. "I think it''s about time you guys tell me what the hell happened. Last thing I remember was Veronica liquidizing that diator''s face."


    "Yeah, it''s not like we haven''t heard about that for every hour since we escaped," Arcade said, sarcasm dripping off of every word.


    "Hey, I had fun," Veronica shrugged. "Anywho, if you''re looking for someone to thank for that in-the-nick-of-time rescue, look no further than the eyebot here." She patted ED-E''s chassis, and the robot chirped happily. "If it wasn''t for him, I don''t think we would''ve gotten there in time."


    "Speak fer yerself," Cass chimed in. "I was jus'' ''bout t''grab a boat when ED-E showed up."


    "I just wish that... thing... hadn''t fired aser at my feet. I was just about ready to shoot it! I thought it had finally blown a vacuum tube and was going berserk!" Arcade eyed ED-E warily, and I realized he was walking opposite the floating robot. Cass just pped him on the back.


    "Well, if you''d gotten on th'' boat like th'' rest of us..."


    "Call me old fashioned," Arcade brushed Cass'' hand off his shoulder. "But I''m not exactly a big fan of robots herding me towards <em>anything</em>."


    "I think we''re getting a bit off topic," Veronica said. "Basically, here''s what happened - ED-E got us all on a raft, we hooked a chain to his underside, and he pulled us all the way upriver. That''s about when Boone started shooting anything red."


    "Not everything," he growled, just as we all got to my car.


    "What''s wrong with you?" I asked, unlocking the trunk and shoving most of the junk out of the way. I had to get to that secretpartment.


    "Aw, he''s just mad ''cause he missed," Cass said, trying hard to hold back augh. I just sort of stopped and stared at the stone-faced soldier with the sunsses and red beret.


    "Boone? Miss? Impossible." I shook it off, and finally cleared enough junk away to reach the secretpartment under the fake spare tire, unlocking it with both keys.


    "He was right there!" He said through gritted teeth. "That bald, big-nosed bastard was right in my crosshairs, and I shot wide! I could''ve ended the whole damn war right then and there, but I missed, and that bastard is still alive!"


    "Don''t worry, Boone, I''m sure you''ll get another chance." I opened up the cash box and started counting out the bills I''d need. If only the exchange rate wasn''t so ridiculous...


    "The fuck?!" Cass just sort of stared in disbelief as I started counting out hundreds. "I thought you said y''were a courier, man! Th'' hell did y''get that sorta cash?" I just sort of shrugged.


    "What can I say, business was good before I came to the Mojave. I never had to deal with casino bosses shooting me in the face, or shipments getting stolen by khans, or cowboy robots working for 200 year old megalomaniacs, and I most certainly never had to deal with massive ver armies. Hell, the car cost at least four times these damn cybeics." I pulled out thest bill, and shut the cash box, locking it again. "There, that should be enough."


    "Wait a minute," Arcade leaned in while I put everything back in ce. "I''m less interested in the cash and more interested in what you said earlier - about Boone getting another chance?" I nodded, shutting the trunk.


    "Of course he''ll get another chance. I left something at the Fort, and we have to go back," I said. Cass and Veronica both just chuckled.


    "No you didn''t," Veronica said with a smile, turning to Cass. "Do you want to tell him, or should I?"


    "Tell me what?" I asked.


    "Ya didn''t really think we''d leave yer guns in that ve camp, didja?" Cass reached behind her, and pulled out both Roscoe and That gun, handing them to me grip first. "Between th'' two of us, snatchin'' those was easy. Caesar''s lucky he still has a throne left. If we hadn''t been in such a hurry t''leave, we''d ''ave snatched that too."


    As grateful as I was to have my favorite pistols back, they weren''t what I was concerned about. Now that I was up, and had finally regained my senses, all I could think about was the little girl... the scared little girl I''d promised and failed to save. I don''t like breaking my promises.


    "Thanks for the guns, but..." I hesitated, holstering both pistols and wondering how to proceed. I don''t think they''d understand if I told them why I wanted to go back. "We still have to go back." Boone was the first to speak up.


    "We can''t."


    "Why not?" I shot back at him. He merely shrugged.


    "You remember that semi truck hanging off the edge of the Cottonwood Overlook?" Veronica interjected. I nodded, and she continued. "While you were heading upriver, Cass and I used your Pip Boy''s Geiger counter to find out what it held: little over a hundred barrels of toxic, radioactive waste. Boone and I rigged the door with some explosives, and when we were making our escape, Boone shot it. By now, that whole area should be flooded with deadly radiation."


    I just stared at her, realizing the implications. On the one hand, Caesar''s Legion would need to find another way across the river... which was good. But... there was no way I would be able to get back to the Fort now. And no way I''d be able to make good on my promise to Melody. No way I could save her.


    Benny''s words from earlier rang in my ears, and I couldn''t shake them out of my mind.


    <em>"You don''t see any simrities, or do you just not want to? Because I''ll tell you what I see when I look at the two of us: I see a pair of failures."</em>

 Chapter 23: Cocktails and Hangovers

    Chapter 23: Cocktails and Hangovers


    <em>It''s the Mr. New Vegas show,dies and gentlemen. I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas, and I''ve got a good feeling about every one of you listening tonight. Here are the headlines. Tensions between the Freeside locals and NCR squatters have been escting in recent days. There have been several incidents of violence and injuries, but no deaths reported thus far. In other news, an anonymous source in the NCR reports that travelers should steer clear of Searchlight, due torge pockets of radiation. Travelers on the Nipton highway and highway 95 are advised to steer clear. More ssicsing right up for you, so stay tuned.</em>


    Right below the button for the penthouse in the Lucky 38''s elevator, there is a buttonbeled "cocktail lounge." Push it, and you will find yourself in a circr observation deck that, presumably, doubled as a restaurant before the war. The space has a bar surrounding the center, and empty tables fill all the avable space. The floor slowly rotates, like a massive turntable. Giant floor to ceiling windows provide sweeping panoramic vistas of Vegas and the Mojave wastnd beyond the wall.


    More important than anything else - at least to me - was the fact that the bar was stocked even better than the bar on the casino floor.


    I was sitting at one of the tables, watching thendscape slowly move by the windows. Behind me, I could hear my friends talking andughing and drinking and ED-E buzzing about the ceiling. I wasn''t really paying attention. They needed time to dpress: every one of them, even Arcade, had stayed by me while I was recovering in Usanagi''s clinic.


    None of them had to stay, but they had. I should''ve been feeling a hell of a lot more grateful. I should''ve been happy that it seemed like they were all getting along, too. But my mind kept going back to Melody, and the promise I''d been unable to keep. So there I sat, nursing a rapidly diminishing bottle of whiskey.


    It''s not like this is the first time I''ve broken a promise to someone. Hell, it hadn''t even been the first time I''d left someone to save my own skin - and unlike those times, I actually had the excuse that I was unconscious and dying at the time. That''s a pretty good excuse to leave someone behind, don''t you think? I kept trying to tell myself that if I hadn''t been on the brink of death, I would''ve kept my promise to a scared, traumatized, and abused little ten year old girl. It should''ve been good enough for my own head, but...


    By all ounts, I''m not a good man. I haven''t lived a good life. I''ve tried. I feel like I''ve made an honest effort to be a decent human being. But the simple facts? I''ve killed people. I''ve broken promises, despite my insistence that I always keep my promises. I''ve left people behind to save my own skin. And worst of all, most of the people I''ve wronged in one way or another... I can''t remember who they are anymore. Names, faces, ces... they all run together, until they''re nothing but indistinct shapes in my mind. Eventually, Melody''s name and face would disappear as well, vanishing from my memory like a fading echo.


    I tipped the bottle back, and emptied thest of the whiskey down the back of my throat. It didn''t even burn anymore. By now, everything was numb. I had to stop thinking about this. I''d fucked up. But even drunk as I was, I realized that sitting around regretting the past wasn''t going to change anything. I didn''t want to forget, but I knew that I was never going to move forward if I kept clinging to the past.


    Moving forward. At the end of the day, that was really the only thing that mattered in this sted hell of a world. If you wanted to survive, you had to find a bnce between learning from the past and not clinging to it.


    And yet, despite that promation of moving forward, I still had plenty of drinking left to do tonight.


    What can I say? I''m not made of stone.


    On the way back from retrieving another bottle of whiskey from the bar, I''d forgotten that the outer edge of the restaurant floor moved. So when I went back to what I thought was the table where I''d been sitting, I found Boone. He was standing, his arms folded across his chest, in between a pair of tables and looking out one of the floor to ceiling windows.


    "Boss," I heard him say as I approached. He didn''t even turn his head.


    "Hey Boone," I replied, walking to a space next to him. I caught a glimpse of his eyes behind his sunsses, and they didn''t look focused on anything. It was like he wasn''t really seeing anything. "What are you doing?"


    "Thinking," was all he said. I offered the bottle of whiskey, but he didn''t pay it any attention. So I shrugged, and took a drink.


    "About what?"


    "What do you think?" he said softly. I was about to say ''Ca,'' but before I got a chance to say anything, he cut me off with "Bitter Springs." Honestly, that felt kind of surprising. Or maybe I was surprised because I was slightly drunk.


    "Do you think about Bitter Springs a lot?" I asked.


    "Yeah. Always. Even when I sleep."


    "You know," I took another drink of whiskey. "I''m still not entirely clear on what happened there."


    "There was a..." Boone paused, and made a noise that wasn''t quite a sigh. It almost sounded like he was exhaling gravel. "mimunication."


    "That''s all? A mimunication?"


    "Yeah. Well. That''s how they wrote it up in the report," Boone slowly shook his head, and leaned against one of the chairs; I leaned against the chair opposite, and he looked me in the face when he spoke next. At least, I think he looked me in the face - it was hard to tell with those damn sses of his. "We did what we were there to do. Lot of people got killed. That''s war. Maybe looking back you''d do things differently, but that''s not how it works. In the field, you hesitate, you or someone you care about will die. They teach that from day one."


    "Sounds like you have as many regrets as I do," I muttered into the whiskey bottle as I took another drink. Boone just nodded, and continued.


    "What happened at Bitter Springs... Life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you make. Big enough mistake, punishment can take a while," He looked back out the window, away from me. "Mine''s not over."


    "Maybe you can make up for your mistakes?" I tried to offer with a shrug. "I''ve... fucked up in the past. Some, more recently than others. But I can''t stop moving forward because of it, and you shouldn''t either." The part of my brain that wasn''tpletely drunk was insisting that I was just talking out of my ass. It didn''t help that Boone was being as infuriatingly cryptic as ever, and I <em>still</em> didn''t really know what happened at Bitter Springs.


    "A murderer who does good deeds is still a murderer," Boone said coldly. "And he''ll still get his judgment. I left the NCR when my tour was up. Had enough of war. Decided I was going to let go. Begin again. None of it made a difference in the end."


    "Maybe..." I tried to think of something to say, which is surprisingly hard when your stomach is drowning in whiskey. "Maybe it''s just bad luck?" Boone snorted at that.


    "That''s what they tell you in the casinos, too. Because it''s the only way to get you to buy back in. If people knew the truth, that someone''s watching you, waiting to take it all away from you, and it never loses... That''s all it''s doing now. Waiting for me to buy back in."


    The two of us sat in silence for a minute, watching thendscape roll past the windows. I took another swig of whiskey, and decided to break the silence.


    "Maybe... you know, maybe it would... I don''t know, maybe it would help to go back there?" I asked. Boone shook his head.


    "I don''t think so. It won''t change anything. And that''s a memory I don''t want refreshed."


    I didn''t get a chance to say anything else to Boone. At that precise moment - although more specifically, the precise moment I was about to take another drink - a hand grasped me by the shoulder and yanked me violently away from my spot leaning against the chair. The entire room became a blur, and I tried to convince myself that only so much of it was from the whiskey.


    "Sheason, c''mon! I got somethin'' t''show ya!"


    "Cass?" I asked as she dragged me along. The first thing I tried to focus on was the whiskey bottle, but that... didn''t really... work. "What''s goin'' on? Where''re you takin'' me?"


    "So, earlier I found a bottle''a tequ, right? So I challenged Arcade t''a drinkin'' contest!" She said happily as she sat me down in a chair. When things finally came into focus, I was looking at an Arcade who was passed out face-down on the table with... three empty shot sses next to his head. Sitting next to him was Veronica, looking at a piece of paper.


    "So, three shots, and he''s out?" I looked questioningly at Cass as she sat down next to me at the table. She nodded happily, pulling out her own bottle of whiskey and clinking the ss against mine. "Ok, that''s interesting, I guess... is that all you wanted to show me?"


    "Oh! No, not at all - see, after Arcade passed out, V and I got to talkin'', and I showed her that map th'' two of us found at th'' caravan site!"


    "I thought that piece of paper looked familiar," I said, taking a drink. "So, found anything interesting?"


    "Well," Veronica put the paper down on the table, and pointed to the numbers at the bottom of the page. "I''m pretty sure these are GPS coordinates."


    "GP what now?" You might think that was the booze talking, but I''ll be honest - I had no idea what GPS was.


    "Global Positioning System. Look, it''s... technical stuff. The long and short of it, I was wondering if I could borrow your arm for a minute?"


    "... what."


    "I just want to take a look at your Pip Boy. Is that alright?" She smiled widely.


    "Alright, I guess," I hesitantly offered my arm to Veronica, who grabbed hold of it, and nearly pulled me across the table as she started fiddling with the buttons and dials. "What do you need it for?"


    "GPS is an old world mapping system, and since the maps on your Pip Boy are a mixture of archival data, information from old world satellites still in orbit, and real-time radar, if I put the number into theputer, it should... give us... a... location."


    My Pip Boy beeped, and Veronica let go of my arm. So, I took another drink of whiskey, and looked at the map. Or, tried to, to be honest. Everything was all a bit fuzzy around the edges.


    "Huh. Neat. So, I guess we have the location of the third caravan site. Cass, I promise we''ll check it out... sometime soon, alright?"


    "Sounds good!" She said with a smile and flushed cheeks. I''m not really sure she was paying attention. I looked over to the unconscious form of Arcade, slumped over the table. I gave him a couple of pokes. He didn''t even stir.


    "Man, he''s really out''ve it, isn''t he?" Cass chuckled, and took another swig of whiskey. "Pfft. Lightweight." I think I must have scrunched my face up or looked worried, because Veronica spoke up.


    "Hey Shea, what''s up?" She asked with her ever present faux-innocent curiosity.


    "I''m just wondering..." I stopped looking at the immobile and unconscious form of Arcade, and looked right at Veronica before continuing. "Have you told him yet?"


    "Told ''im what?" Cass asked. Veronica just shifted ufortably in her chair.


    "Nnnnno? Not really," She scratched the back of her head. "I mean, not yet." Cass leaned across the table and looked between the two of us.


    "Told ''im what?"


    "I haven''t exactly told Arcade that I''m a member of the Brotherhood yet, you know?"


    "Th'' longer you wait," I said, "th'' worse it''s going to be. Y''know that, right?" The liquor must have been really starting to affect me. I was starting to slur like Cass.


    "Yeah, I know, I know... But in my defense, I don''t really know anything about him either. Think about it - has he told any of us anything about himself?" I thought about that for a minute. Yeah, she did have a point, but I could tell she was just trying to shift the me.


    "That''s just an excuse, and you know it. You being a member of the Brotherhood - and more important than that, keeping it a secret - that kind of thing could be potentially dangerous."


    Cass and Veronica looked at each other with eyebrows raised, and then back at me.


    "You''re going to have to exin that, because I don''t quite know what you''re getting at."


    "Yeah," Cass asked, taking another drink from her swiftly draining whiskey bottle. "I''m not sure''a yer meanin'' either."


    "Alright, let me give you a little anecdote to show you what I mean. So... about, I dunno, 16 years ago, maybe? I think. Anyway, I was making my way back to California from a few months that I''d spent in Montana, and I got a little... sidetracked. I ended up near The Core."


    "Th'' Core?" Cass asked.


    "Isn''t that what they call Seattle now?" Veronica asked. I nodded, and she just chuckled. "That''s a hell of a detour."


    "Yeah, it was a weird couple of months, you know? Anyways, I waspletely t-ass broke, so while I was there I ended up doing a couple of jobs with another wastnder, a Vault dweller, a super mutant, a robot, and a medic from the NCR." Both Veronica and Cass looked at each other, and started to smirk. "What?"


    "Is this just something you do, then?" Veronica tried to hold back augh.


    "Find people in th'' wastnd, an'' convince ''em t''do random crap with ya?" Cass finished her sentence.


    "Hey, I needed some money fast, you know? Look, the point is, I pulled a few jobs with the Vault dweller and the mutant first, and we ended up getting a bounty put on our heads."


    "Should we bother askin'' what ya did?" Cass crossed her fingers under her head and rested her chin on top of them. She smiled like a gecko that''d just caught a radroach.


    "It wasn''t what I did - honest! The Vault dweller, Tom? He downloaded this one file onto his Pip Boy that set off alerts everywhere... and the mutant, he kind of... well, he tore the head off a ver captain. It pissed them off somethin'' fierce, y''know? Those two things, they kind of painted targets on our backs, and we had a lot of people after our heads."


    "What does this have to do with me being in the Brotherhood?"


    "When we met up with the wastnder, the robot, and the doc, we didn''t tell them about the bounty. And then, when the vers and the bounty hunters came after us, those three got caught up in it. It caused a lot of problems, and eventually we were forced to tell them what was going on. The point is, every secretes out eventually. It''s better to get it out in the open, before it gets it bes a real problem."


    For the first time since I came to Vegas, I woke up without having to deal with nightmares from the night before. On the downside, my head throbbed like mad, every light source in the room felt like daggers trying to stab through my eyes, and the slightest rustling sound felt like a jackhammer in my ears.


    I do not enjoy being hungover.


    It took me quite a while to get going. Thankfully, Veronica was already up by the time I wandered into the kitchen, and she had a batch of her hangover cure all ready for me. Then again, I had a bit of ate morning, so I guess it made sense that she''d be up.


    By the time I decided to go see Mr. House, it was close to noon.


    "Well, howdy there pardner!" Victor said to me as the elevator door to House''s office opened. "You''re looking healthy as a blue-ribbon stallion on race day."


    "No, Victor. I look like what I am - someone who has a massive hangover," I drank a little water to finish washing the taste of Veronica''s cure out of my mouth. "Is House avable, or is he too busy micromanaging Vegas to see me?"


    "Actually, Mr. House has been waitin'' for you, pardner. Go right on in."


    So I walked down the stairs, and before I even reached the final step, the big monitor flickered into life and House''s face came into view.


    "Hello, Mr. Fisher. I must admit, I expected you to arrive much sooner. When I spoke to you under the Fort, it was Monday. It is now Friday." He sounded rather annoyed with me. Good, I thought, let him be annoyed for a while.


    "Yeah," I grumbled, taking another drink of water. "I ran into a little trouble with the locals. I spent thest few daysid up in the hospital. By the way - thanks for warning me about the radiation in the vault. I really appreciated the heads up."


    "Radiation... hmm..." Amazingly, House was silent for a few seconds. "Yes... a reactor leak would ount for the bunker''sck of power." House''s reaction was annoying, but I''ll be honest... not unexpected. He continued before I had a chance toin. "Either way, the foundation is nowid, Mr. Fisher. My Securitrons on the Strip are upgraded, and those at the Fort, ready for action. Now it''s just a matter of adjusting the attitudes of some lesser groups while we wait for Caesar''s Legion to attack Hoover Dam."


    I held up my hand to try and stop him talking. "Hang on, House. I have a question." Something from my hallucination about Benny from a day or so ago was niggling the back of my head, and it wouldn''t be satisfied until I got an answer.


    "Go ahead and ask, then."


    "Say you keep control of New Vegas. What''ll happen then?" I heard House chuckle softly.


    "You think Vegas is merely a city, don''t you, Mr. Fisher?"


    "Well... yeah," What was he getting at?


    "New Vegas is more than a city. Vegas will be the remedy to mankind''s derailment. The city''s economy is a st furnace in which can be forged the steel of a new rail line, running straight to a new horizon." Impressive imagery, if you were into that sort of thing.


    "And I suppose the NCR doesn''t fit in with your grand vision, does it?" I asked.


    "Oh, to the contrary. The NCR is vitally important. Because, what is the NCR? A society of people desperate to experiencefort, ease, luxury... The NCR is a society of customers. With all that money pouring in? Give me twenty years, and I''ll reignite the high technology development sectors. Fifty years, and I''ll have people in orbit. One hundred years, and my colony ships will be heading for the stars, to search fors unpolluted by the wrath and folly of a bygone generation." Again, impressive imagery. And it was a noble idea, but there was still something bugging me.


    "In the meantime, I suppose you''d rule Vegas as some kind of dictator then?"


    "I prefer the tern ''Autocrat.'' I would rule Vegas as a chief executive. But unlike a CEO of the old world, I would not answer to a board of directors or any other entity. Nothing to impede the progress of Humanity - or my own," He paused, apparently to let that sink in, then finished his thought with : "If you wish to see the fate of democracies, merely take a look out the windows."


    "What''s to keep you from abusing your power then?"


    "My judgment," he said quite forcefully. "I have no interest in abusing others, just as I have no interest in legiting or otherwise dictating what people do in their private time. Nor have I any interest in being worshipped as some kind of machine God messiah. I am impervious to such ambitions," said the man who has spent thest two hundred years ying God for Vegas. "But autocracy? Firm control in the hands of a technological and economic visionary? Oh yes... that is the Vegas I see. And that is what Vegas shall have. Now," House cleared his throat. "Are you quite finished asking puerile questions, or shall we discuss business?"


    "Alright, fine," I took another drink of water. "So, what''s the next step?"


    "Outside New Vegas, at what was once called Nellis Air Force Base, resides an unusual tribe known as the Boomers. They are, shall we say, aggressively reclusive? They upied Nellis a little over fifty years ago. One of my roving Securitrons recorded some video of their arrival - and then... exploded."


    "Is that why they''re called the Boomers then?" I asked. House continued, ignoring me.


    "Odds are, they were Vault dwellers. Other than that, all I know is that they have several howitzers they fire at anyone who dares approach the base. Artillery of this sort has a range of several miles. If it''s going to fire on Hoover Dam, I want it firing at my targets. If not, then I want to make sure that the Boomers don''t sign simr treaties to fire their guns in support of the NCR or Caesar''s Legion."


    Frankly, I didn''t want any part of this. I had just recovered from getting my ass kicked trying toplete one of House''s jobs, and wasn''t in the mood to get my ass blown apart by artillery. I was quite partial to my ass, thank you.


    "Ok, House," I said, giving him a thumbs up. "Whatever you say. I''ll get right on that."


    "So, what did House want?" Veronica asked when I came back down from the Penthouse. I just shrugged.


    "Oh, you know. Normal stuff. Nothing to get worried about" I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I''m feeling a bit peckish. Who wants to get lunch?"


    "So, Arcade," I turned around in my seat as I creeped the Corvega out of the Lucky 38''s garage and onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Cass was sitting shotgun, and Veronica was sitting next to Arcade. Boone had turned down the offer of lunch with the rest of us. "Where is this ce again?"


    "It''s... it''s just down the road. I think it''s called Bill''s, or Biff''s, or something." Arcade clutched his forehead.


    "Where''r we goin'' again?" Cass asked.


    "It''s an all day buffet. More expensive than most locals in Freeside can afford, but they make great gecko meat omelets. Good for...uh... good for..." he trailed off.


    "Curing hangovers?" Veronica offered yfully, poking him in the side of the head.


    "Exactly," he grumbled and rubbed his eyes beneath his sses.


    "I still can''t b''lieve three shots''a tequ knocked y''on yer ass," Cassughed.


    "I can''t believe I agreed to a drinking contest with you," Arcaded chuckled grimly. "What on earth was I thinking, going up against a girl with whiskey flowing through her veins instead of blood?"


    "Damn right," Cass smiled proudly, blinked a few times, and her smile evaporated. "Hey, wait a minute..."


    "I think we''re here," I said, pulling the car to a stop in front of one of the buildings on the west side of the street. As it turned out, Arcade was wrong about the namepletely - the sign above the door looked like it had been there since the bombs fell, and said "Buck''s Steak House." Beneath it was a smaller sign made out of corrugated metal and riveted to the brick wall, with "All Day Buffet" scrawled on it in white paint.


    "Yeah..." Arcade grunted, getting out of the car. "Yeah, this is the ce." As we all exited the Corvega, ED-E zoomed down to eye level and beeped at me a few times.


    "Hey buddy. D''you mind watching the car while we get some grub?" ED-E responded with a few happy beeps, and started circling above the car. I gave him a satisfied nod, and turned around to face three men making their way through the crowd towards me. They were all young men, with ck hair that looked styled somehow. The one in the front wore a ck leather jacket and a white shirt with jeans, while the other two didn''t have a jacket. I rested my hand close to Roscoe... just in case.


    "Hey man," the one in front gave me a smile, but I didn''t ease up. "You the Courier?" I raised an eyebrow at him, and I felt rather than saw my friends move to defensive positions behind me.


    "Maybe. Who''s asking?"


    "We''re part of The Kings," He said, motioning to his buddies beside him. "Our boss, The King? Yeah, he wants to see you, man."


    "And why does The King want to see me?" I asked.


    "Hey man, I don''t ask questions when the big man gives me an order, you know? All I know is, The King says ''Vince'' - that''s me - ''take Jimmy and Clint'' - that''s these jokers - ''and find me The Courier.'' Word on the street is, The Courier drives a blue Corvega. And you just happen to be drivin'' a blue Corvega." I nodded and crossed my hands over my chest.


    "Alright, so. The King wants to see me. Mind if my friends and I get some food first?"


    "Sure, man, sure. Go get some grub," He motioned for Jimmy and Clint to move out of the way, and group of us started walking towards Buck''s. Before we had gone too far, Vince spoke up again. "Don''t keep The King waitin''. He''s a nice guy, but he ain''t too patient."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I said. Just as the lot of us were about to head inside, I heard one of the King''s behind us give a wolf whistle as Cass passed him. She just chuckled.


    "Ain''t nothin'' but a hound dog," was all I heard her say.

 Chapter 24: Hail to the King, Baby

    Chapter 24: Hail to the King, Baby


    <em>Wee back to the Mr. New Vegas Show. Got some news for you this afternoon. Travelers are still advised to stay away from the stretch of the Long 15 between Goodsprings and South Vegas. ording to reports from Sloan, there is still a heavy deathw presence in the area. In other news, the town of Bonnie Springs has gone silent. Traders from the small town haven''t been seen in several weeks, and it''s believed to have been wiped out by raiders. This, however, remains unconfirmed. The news this hour has been brought to you by the Vikki and Vance Casino: be our partners in crime. Coming up next is a ssic from the Slim Gaird Quartette, so pull up a ss and I''ll pour you that "Atomic Cocktail."</em>


    When I pulled the Corvega to a stop in front of "The Kings School of Impersonation," there was only one thought running through my mind as I stared at the giant neon sign, with the outlines of a guitar and the moving neon silhouette of a man dancing and swaying his hips:


    "Man. Someone sure likes the color pink." And it was true. The sign, the dancing man silhouette, everything except the guitar was lit up with a bright neon pink. It really stood in stark contrast with the squat, four-story brick building, and the tough guys in jeans, leather jackets and greased up hair gathered all around the outside.


    As the four of us got out of the car, I heard a couple of the Kings whistle, and yell out stuff like "Hey hey, lookin'' good red!" Cass just let out a huge groan and rubbed her temple.


    "I swear," Cass looked about ready to go for her shotgun. "Next fucker t''whistle at me''s gettin my boot up ''is ass!"


    "Didn''t you say you thought it was cute, like, half an hour ago?" Veronica asked, giving ED-E a pat as the flying metal ball hovered down close to the car.


    "Well, yeah, I thought t''was funny th'' first time, but ev''ry one''a those assholes''ve been catcallin'' me. Now, it''s just gettin'' old."


    The four of us walked inside, and I couldn''t help but notice all the posters hanging on the walls. Most of them were cracked and faded, but I could make out a few details. For one thing, they all seemed to center around the same man. I read the titles on a few: "King Creole," "Jailhouse Rock," "G.I. Blues," "Viva Las Vegas," and "ming Star" were the most legible, but there were others that I just couldn''t read. And then I realized  all the Kings were wearing outfits that looked like they''d been copied straight from the posters.


    In the center of the room was a dirty counter, and behind it was a ss case hanging off the wall. Inside the case was, quite possibly, the tackiest outfit I''ve ever seen. It was a white jumpsuit with a massive popped cor, covered in rhinestones, with tassels on the arms and legs, and a white cape with a red lining draped over one of the shoulders. Right above the outfit in the case was a pair of massive mirrored shades.


    To the left of the counter was a door. Leaning on the wall next to it was a heavyset guy with greasy ck hair, his arms folded across his chest chewing on a toothpick. He was wearing a pair of ck pants, a ck jacket with the numbers 6240 stenciled over the left pocket, and a ck and white striped shirt underneath. It made him look like the character from the "Jailhouse Rock" poster... only a bit fatter. When we walked in the room, he looked up questioningly, and removed the toothpick from his mouth.


    "Well, what do we have here?" He didn''t sound like he was from around here - he spoke with an odd sort of slow drawl I''d only ever heard in Old World holotapes. "Another petitioner for the King?" I nodded.


    "I suppose you could say that. I''m just here to see him."


    "Is that right?" He looked from me to Cass, to Arcade, to Veronica, and back to me again. "I suppose it might be possible for you to meet him. How much is it worth to you to meet the big man?"


    "How much?" Veronica spoke up. "What for? He got-" I held my hand up to stop Veronica. I knew what this guy''s game was.


    "I''m new in town," I told him. "I just wanted to meet The King, and pay my respects." The heavyset guy looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckled.


    "You know what? I like you. Half the people around here, they forget who runs this ce." He reached behind him, and opened the door. "Head on through, the door at the end of the hallway''s the theater. The King''s the bored-looking guy by the stage. Can''t fuckin'' miss him."


    As we all walked down the hallway, Cass slid up beside me and grabbed a hold of my shoulder.


    "How th'' fuck d''you do that?" she asked. I just sort of stopped and blinked at her for a few seconds.


    "Do what?"


    "How''d y''know what t''say? One minute, he''s bein'' all pissy, next minute he''s fuckin'' lickin'' yer boots." I shrugged.


    "You''ve never had to deal with gangs before, have you?" I asked her.


    "Raider gangs, mostly. Why? What''s that got t''do with anythin''?"


    "I''ve run some delivery jobs for at least half a dozen gangs in the past, and the one thing I''ve noticed about all of them is they want respect more than anything else. More than caps, more than sex, more than violence  even raider gangs want respect, in their own twisted way. Show a gang respect, they''re much more willing to work with you."


    The door at the end of the hallway opened up onto a surprisinglyrge theater. On the stage at the far end of the room was one of the Kings, microphone in hand. He was standing in the middle of several colored spotlights and shaking his hips just like the neon signs on the front of the building. I could barely hear some instrumental music ying over the rusty speakers on either end of the stage, and it sounded like he was singing some old world song to go along with the music.


    All around the room were tables and chairs, like the sort you''d find in a cocktail lounge. For some reason, I immediately thought of the Shark Club in New Reno. Every single table was empty, except for one table near the stage that only had one upant. He was sitting with his back to me, scratching the ear of the German Shepherd curled up next to him. I couldn''t see his face, but I could see that he had fairly dark hair, a cream colored jacket, and ck cks.


    "Excuse me. Are you the King?" I asked when I finally got close to him. He turned in his chair, and I did a double take. He was the spitting image of the man in those posters I''d seen. Literally, his face was exactly the same  it was uncanny.


    "Look Rexie," the King said in that same old world drawl. "Someone new''se to see us. Poor boy. He hasn''t been feeling welltely." He gave his dog a scratch behind the ears, and I suddenly realized that the dog''s brain was visible from behind a ss dome, and quite a bit of the dog was reced with metal. He turned back to me, shook my hand, and gestured at one of the chairs. "Yeah, I''m the King. Have a seat. Danny up there''s just finishing ''Hard Headed Woman.'' What can I do for you?"


    "Well, I''m not really sure," I said, pulling up a chair. "I''m Sheason Fisher. I was just going to get lunch with my friends here, when a couple Kings came up, said you wanted to see me."


    "Did I?" He cocked an eyebrow and looked confused for a minute. "I don''t recall asking for a Sheason."


    "Well, they were looking for The Courier," I shrugged. "And I suppose if that''s what people are calling me now, I guess I''ll have to live with it." The King looked back at me with a sudden dawningprehension.


    "Ah, so you''re The Courier. I''ve heard about you. You do look like you can handle yourself, just like people have been saying. I have to admit though, I was expecting someone a bit taller." Immediately, I thought of my rather unpleasant meeting with Caesar.


    "Yeah, I''ve been getting that a lot." I scratched the back of my head, which had suddenly started aching at the memory of Vulpes whacking me in the back of the skull. "So, why''d you want to see me?"


    "I got a job for you," he said, leaning back in his chair, giving me a good view of his light blue cored shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned. "But first, I have to see if you''re as dependable as people are saying. Interested?"


    "I''m listening," I said. I still needed a good distraction from all the harrowing putting-my-ass-on-the-line for House, and this might just fit the bill.


    "I''ll start you off with something easy. If you''re as good as they''re saying, this should be a walk in the park," I looked back at my friends; while The King and I were talking, they''d all sat down and started watching the show. "Did you notice the bodyguards for hire near the gates when you entered Freeside?" I thought for a minute, and then shook my head.


    "No, I must''ve missed them. Then again, I did roll into town in my Corvega, so that''s probably not surprising, I guess." The King chuckled.


    "It''s good money if you can stay alive long enough. Freeside''s not nearly as safe as it used to be, especially thesest few months, so the money is well earned. Well usually well earned, that is." He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table, andced his fingers together. "Recently my men have been telling me about one of these bodyguards  a man by the name of Orris  is making a little too much money."


    "How much is too much?" I asked. I was trying to figure out why The King had a problem with this guy. So he was making some money? Good on him. So what?


    "Too much," he said simply. "He''s making a killing in repeat business. Once someone hires him, they never want anyone else. I want you to find out why," he said, pointing at me for emphasis. "Specifically, I want you to hire him. y the part of an innocent tourist and follow his lead. If nothing happens, so be it. But I''m guessing things won''t go smoothly. Call it a hunch."


    "Why are you so interested in this?"


    "Some of those guards out there are Kings. I''m just looking out for my men. Don''t get me wrong  I''m not trying to get some kind of unfair advantage. I just want a level ying field for my boys." It was a noble enough sentiment, and strangely enough, believable. Something about the way this man carried himself, something about how he spoke, I could tell  he was actually being honest.


    "So, what''s so special about me then, that you ask for me to handle this?"


    "It''s like I said before, I got another job for you  a real job  but only once I find out if there''s anything to the stories about you. This is just a warm up. Besides, I can''t send my boys to look into this. I''ve tried, but he can smell a King a mile away. Probably knows all our faces by now. He''s not stupid, I''ll give him that. So that''s why I need someone he won''t recognize, and that makes you damn near perfect. So, what do you say?"


    "Could be augh," I smirked. "Yeah, sure. Where can I find this guy?"


    "Thest I heard from my men, he''s up by the North gate to Freeside, over by Genaro''s Diner. Oh, and here," From underneath his chair, he pulled out a bag of bottlecaps  easily 200 or so. "That should cover the cost of hiring him."


    "Alright then," I took the bottlecaps and got up. "This shouldn''t take too long. I''ll tell you what''s up when I get back." The King just nodded, and leaned back in his chair again.


    "Thank you, thank you very much."


    "Alright, run this by me again?" Arcade asked as we all made our way back to the car.


    "The King wants me to find out why this guy Orris is making so much money. To do that, I need to look like a ''helpless tourist," I made finger quotes in the air. "So, I''m letting you guys have the car for the afternoon."


    "Y''sure?" Cass asked, twirling the keys around her finger, and smirked at me. "I mean, y''remember what happenedst time y''thought you could handle yerself. I wouldn''t me you if ya didn''t, ya did get hit in th'' head pretty hard."


    "Not to mention you lost a lot of blood," Veronica added helpfully.


    "Broke a couple limbs" Cass added, nudging Veronica in the ribs.


    "Had your organs melted by radiation" Veronica smiled back at her.


    "Not to mention you made us waste a couple of days, waiting for you to get better." Arcade folded his arms across his chest and nodded. "Personally, I don''t want to waste another half a week waiting for you to get mended if you decide to get banged up again."


    "Yes, yes, very funny," I scowled at everyone except ED-E. "Are you all quite finished?"


    "I think I got a couple more," Veronica smirked, and drummed her fingers on the Corvega''s roof.


    "Look, I''ll be fine. The worst I''ll have to deal with here in Freeside is some idiot trying to mug me. It won''t be like trying to sneak into the most heavily defended ver stronghold in the wastnd. So take the car, don''t wreck it, enjoy yourselves for the afternoon, and we''ll all meet up back at the 38 close to sundown. Alright?"


    "Sounds like a n," Cass patted the hood a couple times and got in the driver seat. "See ya t''night then!" Veronica got in the passenger seat, and, predictably, Arcade got in the back. As they drove off, ED-E hovered beside me, emitting a soft mechanical whir.


    "So, what do you say little buddy?" I turned to the floating eyebot, and he swiveled in the air so his speaker grille faced me. "Think you can be my guardian angel eye in the sky for a few hours?"


    ED-E responded by letting out a burst of triumphant marching music, and zooming off into the sky directly above my head.


    Freeside''s North gate was maybe two or three blocks away from the Old Mormon Fort. On the East side of Las Vegas Boulevard was a diner that looked like it might have been a train car if not for theck of wheels, the fact that every window was broken, and the sign on the top that said "Genaro''s Diner" in mismatched neon lights. On the opposite side of the street was a building with an awning that looked like it had been sewn out of whatever cloth the residents could find, and a sign that read "BODYGUARDS 4 HIRE."


    There were a fair amount of people on the street, but not enough that I really needed to push my way through. Eventually, I came to a stop under the awning, where about half a dozen tough-looking guys were gathered around a table, ying caravan, presumably. It didn''t look like any of them were Kings, but I did hear some old world musicing from inside the building. Most of them didn''t even look up from their game when I walked toward them.


    "Hey, do any of you know where I can find Orris?" I asked. Most of them groaned, and I heard one of them say "Oh, God damnit," under his breath. A man with shaggy ck hair, a messy goatee, slightly sunburned skin, and metal armor set his cards facedown on the table, and stepped up.


    "Guess we''ll have to finish this game some other time, boys. Sounds like someone else has heard about how awesome I am." The guy with the ammo bandolier who was sitting next to him just scoffed and shook his head.


    "You know man, this is getting too convenient. Why do they alwayse ''round askin'' for you right when yer about to lose?"


    "Hey, it''s not my fault my excellent skills are in such high demand," Orris said, brushing some dirt off his shoulder and finally turning to face me. "Hey there. I''m Orris. If you''re looking to cross Freeside, no one will keep you safer than I will."


    "Yeah, I heard you were pretty good. But why do I need a bodyguard crossing Freeside?" I didn''t want to seem too eager. Besides, I was kind of interested in his sales pitch. So far, I wasn''t really impressed.


    "Just look around man. People here in Freeside? They''re as likely to stab you as say hello," he cocked his head to the side, and looked as his nails, presumably in an attempt to look nonchnt. "That is, if I weren''t at your side." He looked down, and I saw his eyes lock onto my Pip Boy. "Oh, so you''re a Vault dweller, eh? You don''t look like you''re from Vault 21."


    "Nah, I''m from out of town. Vault 13," I said, thinking quickly. Honestly, I didn''t know anything about that Vault, except that it was one of the two Vault''s close to Shady Sands. I figured it was as good a story as any. "I heard about Vegas, so I decided to hitch a ride ande see what''s what. So, how much is it to hire you?"


    "Two hundred caps get you my watchful eye for a trip down to the south gate," he said with well practiced precision.


    "South gate? What, you mean the Strip?" I asked. "What if that''s not where I want to go?" He just rolled his eyes.


    "Sorry pal, but all the people with any real money head for the Strip, so that''s the way I go. You want to go somewhere else, hire one of these losers," he jabbed a thumb behind him, and I heard the group still ying cards grumble and moan. Obviously, they''d heard that line one too many times before.


    "Fair enough, I guess," I nodded, and reached into my jacket, pulling out the bag of 200 caps. I paused to make it look like I was counting them out before handing him the bottlecaps. He took it without question and put it in apartment on the left thigh of his metal armor.


    "Done and done," Orris said, pping me on the back and maneuvering me away from the card game. As we walked, he seemed to drop the genial demeanor and get slightly serious. "I want to mention a few things up front. In order to ensure your safety, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter. We''ll be heading down the main street here the whole way down. No detours. You go off sightseeing and I go off to find another customer. I keep a brisk pace, so try not to fall behind. Understand the rules?"


    "Oh yes, absolutely," I did my best to sound genuine, but something fishy was going on, I could tell. Best to y along, see where this leads.


    "Good. Then let''s head out."


    Brisk pace my ass.


    When we finally got going, I damn near jogged right past him. It looked like he was running as fast as he could, and I really had to slow myself up just so he didn''t get suspicious. From the look of it, the reason he was running so slow was the armor he was wearing. If you''ve never seen the kind of metal armor people wear in the wastnd, the most important thing is this: nine times out of ten, it''s made out of bits of rusted old motorcycles. That''s all that needs to be said, really.


    Personally, I''ve never really liked wearing too much armor. I know that may seem crazy, since I''ve always seemed to run into some kind of dangerous situation in the wastnd, but I have method to my madness. Sure, if you wear armor, you''re less likely to get injured if somebody shoots you, but the tradeoff is the weight makes you heavier, and a lot slower. I''d much rather be able to run from a fight that''s gone tits up than be forced to stay and slug it out.


    So he was jogging along at only slightly faster than walking pace, and I was doing my best not tough when he started talking about some of the sights. Going on about how you can get patched up at the Old Mormon Fort, oh but he''s never needed their services. Nope, no sir. Or how Fremont street is the fun part of town, and how "you haven''t seen Freeside till you''ve been to the Wrangler."


    I started to think that the King was worried for nothing  maybe some of the more nave people visiting Vegas were actually taken in by his boasting as self-congrattion, and that''s why he was getting so much repeat business.


    And that''s when he came to a stop in the middle of the street.


    "What''s going on? What''s the problem?" I asked. I looked around  we were close to Buck''s Steak House, and pretty close to the gate to The Strip. He drew his pistol  a practically pristine hunting revolver,plete with a ridiculously oversized scope mounted on the top.


    "I don''t like the look of some of those men ahead," he motioned at a group of four men in the crowd ahead of us. Unlike everyone else, they were standing still, and not even hiding the fact that they were staring right at us. "Let''s take a different way around."


    Without even waiting for me to respond, he took off and ran to his left down a side street. This time I really did have to run to keep up. He turned a corner, kept running, and before I could catch up to himpletely, I heard him fire off three shots. When I finally got close to him, he was blowing smoke away from the barrel of his revolver.


    "Thought you could ambush the great and powerful Orris, did you?" he said as he holstered his pistol and turned to face me. He seemed a little surprised that I wasn''t further back, but very quickly regained hisposure and smirked cockily at me. "Nothing to worry about. If you had hired one of those other hacks, you''d be up to your ass in lowlife right now!"


    I looked past him to see what he had been shooting at: lying on the ground and clustered around the rusted hulk of an abandoned car were the four men that he''d been trying to avoid before. It didn''t take a genius to realize what was wrong about this situation.


    "So three shots take out four bad guys, does it?" I asked with a smirk. Orris nched and his smile faded momentarily.


    "Er noticed that, did you?" He cleared his throat. "I <em>keenly</em> aimed one of the shots through some soft tissue of one of them to hit the man behind him. I''m just that good."


    The two of us were standing a good ten, fifteen feet away from the four "bodies," and even from this distance I could make out the rise and fall of their chests as they continued to breathe.


    "Or it could be that you just set up this whole thing to drum up repeat business. That seems a lot more likely, don''t you think?" Orris just scowled from underneath his bushy eyebrows.


    "That''s an interesting <strong>theory</strong> you''ve got there," he said, putting a little emphasis on the word. "But you don''t have any proof, so I''d suggest you keep it to yourself. Now, let''s get moving." He turned and started walking away from me, but I just stood still.


    "You know," I said loud enough for him to hear before he got too far. "I could probably make it to the Kings from here." He stopped dead in his tracks. "I''m sure The King would be <em>very</em> interested in hearing about this" He turned around and stormed up towards me.


    "I ought to take my chances and kill you right here -" is all he managed to say. Before he could go any further, I reached behind me and drew That Gun before he could go for his own revolver and pointed it at his forehead.


    "You were saying?"


    "Ok, so you figured it out. Good for you. But you''re still gonna have a hard time running to The King when my boys and I break your legs." He did his best to sound tough, but I could tell he was straining to keep his voice from wavering. I just continued to smile at him, and nodded once. In a sh I pulled out Roscoe with my free hand and fired off a shot behind him before he could react. I''ll admit, what happened next was rather amusing.


    "FUCK!" I heard one of the men lying on the ground shout. He was probably the one I''d aimed closest to. I didn''t want to kill them; I just wanted to scare them a bit. "Man, fuck this! You ain''t payin'' us enough for this shit!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the four thugs get up and start running away. Orris didn''t look behind him, but I saw one of his eyes twitch.


    "So what now?" he asked. "Are are you gonna kill me?"


    "Only if I have to," I said calmly, still keeping That Gun pointed between his eyes. "I''ll probably feel like shit about it for, oh, <em>hours</em>, at least, being forced to kill a man with nks in his gun." His eye twitched again. "But I''ll tell you what. I feel sorry for you, so I''m gonna let you go. My suggestion is that you get out of town though. I''m pretty sure The King isn''t gonna be happy if you stay." He just nodded, but stayed still. "Well, go on, get out of here."


    I put That Gun away, but kept Roscoe drawn, just in case he tried anything. He didn''t. I was actually quite pleased with myself  not only had I not gotten injured, but I was able to defuse the whole situation without actually killing anybody! I watched him as he just started running off down the street like a scared puppy with his tail between his legs.


    He didn''t get far.


    Before I knew what was happening, I heard a boom in the air like some kind of old world explosion, and a beam of bright blue lightnced through the air from the roof of a nearby building. It sheared him clean in half. Instinct took over. I steadied Roscoe with my other hand and started scanning the rooftops, eyes down the pistol''s sights, trying to see where the shot hade from.


    I heard a burst of triumphant marching music from behind me, and felt a gust of wind as ED-E zoomed perilously close to my head. He was swiveling around, like he was looking for the shooter as well. There was a glint of metal above me, on the roof of one of the buildings on the right side of the street. I pointed Roscoe at the sh, but when I saw what was up there, I hesitated.


    Standing on the roof of the building and carrying arge kind of rifle I''d never seen before was a figure d all in ck. It looked like it might have been human, but I couldn''t tell. In fact, I couldn''t make out any details about the figure or the gun he or she or it was carrying. The only thing I could make out were three yellow circles of light where its eyes should''ve been. The figure d in ck just stood there with its weapon lowered, staring at me.


    "What the fuck?" I said aloud. The figure merely lifted a hand away from the rifle, and ced a finger where its mouth should''ve been. The air around the figure shimmered with a blue crackle, and promptly disappeared. Who or whatever had just blown Orris in half must have been using a Stealth Boy.


    A deathly silence fell over the alley. The only noise came from ED-E, who let out a series of mechanical beeps that made it seem like he was just as confused as me. A minute passed, and nothing happened. Finally, I moved from the spot where I''d felt rooted to the ground, and put Roscoe back in its holster. Slowly, cautiously, I made my way to where Orris'' bodyy in pieces.


    His upper half was a good ten feet away from where his legs had fallen. His left hand and his right arm below the elbow werepletely gone. There was arge ckened hole on the street between his torso and his legs; it was easily six or seven inches deep. There wasn''t any blood  it looked like whatever blew him apart had cauterized the wound andpletely fused the meat and bone together.


    The only kind of guns I could think of that fuse wounds like this were energy weapons, likeser rifles and sma rifles, but the level of power required to do something like this waspletely unheard of. I''d certainly never encountered anything that could''ve done this, and I''d never heard of any energy weapons hitting people with enough force to blow them apart like this.


    I just sort of stared at the body for a minute. ED-E beeped next to me, and I just sighed.


    "When the fuck did my life get so weird?"

 Chapter 25: A Little Less Conversation

    Chapter 25: A Little Less Conversation


    <em>That was Vera Keys, singing her calming melody "Let the Bright Tomorrow in." This is Radio New Vegas, and I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas. It''s the top of the hour, so you know what that means - time for some news. Residents living north east of Vegas have reported an increased number of explosions in the already bombed-out neighborhoods surrounding Nellis Air Force Base. I don''t know what''s gotten the Boomers all riled up like that, but if you want my advice? Steer clear. Today''s headlines were brought to you by the Lady Luck casino in Freeside, wishing youdy like luck tonight. Ladies and Gentlemen, this next song goes out from me to you. It''s Bing Crosby, reminding us of those times when you absolutely have to kiss the person you love. "Something''s Gotta Give" up next.</em>


    ED-E had disappeared.


    A few seconds after Orris had been blown apart, ED-E had flown off, presumably in pursuit of the assassin. I was left in that alley, trying to piece together what the fuck had just happened, while question after question barreled through my head. That assassin who had disappeared - who was he, or she, or it? Why kill Orris? Why use such a big gun on a soft target like Orris? The kind of st that gun produced looked like something you''d use to kill someone wearing Powered Armor or sitting inside a tank, not armor made out of bits of rusted motorcycles. Why use a stealth boy? Why couldn''t I make out any details about the shooter? There were just too many questions to which I just couldn''t figure out the answers.


    The worst part was that energy st hadn''t exactly been subtle. We were off the beaten path in a back street alley, sure, and it''s not like Freeside had any sort ofw that I knew of  apart from the Kings  but the noise was bound to draw the attention of someone, and probably very soon. So if I was going to do anything to try and figure out what was going on, I''d have to do it fast.


    I knelt down next to what was left of his legs and started looking through the thigh panels in Orris'' armor. There wasn''t much  just the 200 caps I''d paid him, plus a few hundred extra caps. I found some ammo for his pistol  sure enough, the rounds he had for that hunting revolver were nks. He also had a passport for the Strip, a pair of keys, a couple of pencils, a fission battery, a dozen ying cards, a few folded up scraps of paper, and several hundred NCR dors in twenties that I wasn''t too ashamed to put in my own pockets.


    What I didn''t expect to find were the coins. There were about two dozen metal coins, with ten made out of silver, and the rest made out of gold  and both types of coins were embossed with a very familiar head with arge hook nose. They both had writing as well - the silver said "Caesar Dictator" on the front, and the gold said "Aeternit Imperi." This was Legion currency, no doubt, and if nothing else it just raised more questions.


    I didn''t really have time to question any further however, because I heard the muffled sounds of voices and footfalls from around the corner of one of the nearby buildings. So I grabbed what I could of the cash, holstered Roscoe, and bolted before anyone arrived and could find me standing over what was left of a man that had been blown in half.


    ording to my Pip Boy, it was just a little after 3pm as I walked along Las Vegas Boulevard. Either no one had seen me leaving where Orris had died or no one cared. And it''s not like there weren''t people around, either. There weren''t too many crowds, but it wasn''t empty like the ghost town in mya-hallucination from a few days ago.


    As I walked along, I really started taking stock of the state of Freeside. Nearly every time I''d travelled through Freeside sinceing to Vegas, I''d passed through in my car, and hadn''t really paid attention unless I needed to go somewhere. But now that I was paying attention for every group of well dressed people heading south towards The Strip, there was another group of people wearing rags, unwashed and unshaven, huddled around a burning trashcan. For every shop or restaurant that proudly proimed they were open for business, there were just as many buildings that were boarded up with broken windows, trash scattered around, and covered in graffiti. For every six or seven story casino decked out in neon lights and shy signs, there was another building that had copsed in on itself from 200 years of wear, disrepair, and abuse.


    Then I took a look behind me. The skyscrapers of The Strip loomed over Freeside, and, of course, the most monolithic of them all was the Lucky 38. Compared to Freeside, The Strip was practically pristine, full of money, and people willing to spend it. It was an oasis, a shining beacon of civilization. But, in a way, it was menacing, somehow. I''ve been in some bad ces before, but for some reason the fact that Freeside, with all its poverty and destitute masses living in the shadow of the wealth and excess of The Strip, made it the most depressing.


    An oasis is a fine, wee relief when you find it. But the biggest problem with an oasis is that, by its very nature, a wastnd of lifelessness must surround it.


    I just kept walking for a while, losing myself in my thoughts. And then, I was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.


    "Well, hey there, stranger. Need a lift?" I looked up, and there was Cass behind the wheel of my car, rolling alongside me as I walked along. Veronica was in the passenger seat, Arcade was in the back, and ED-E was hovering just above the roof. I stopped walking, and Cass rolled the Corvega to a halt.


    "Uh hi guys," I was more than a little confused. "What are you doing here? I thought you''d all be out... you know, doing stuff."


    "Well, we kinda were. We went to th'' El Cortez, did a bit''a gamblin''," Cass said, getting out of the car and tossing me the keys. "It was pretty fun, y''shoulde along next time."


    "But right when I was about to make a killing at the ckjack table," Veronica interrupted, getting out of the car and leaning on the roof "ED-E showed up out of nowhere, beeping at us like he did when you were in trouble at The Fort." The eyebot hovered near her and she patted his chassis. He chirped contentedly.


    "So, are you?" Arcade leaned out of the back window. "I mean, I don''t see any heavily armed thugs beating the shit out of you..."


    "Heh... no, I''m fine," I said, shaking my head and chuckling.


    "See?" Arcade leaned back in the backseat. "What did I tell you? I told you there was nothing to worry about."


    "The only reason you said that was because you don''t trust ED-E," Veronica chided. ED-E hovered close to her and gave a satisfied electronic chirp.


    "Well, thanks, I appreciate you guysing to find me so fast," Frankly, I was a bit at a loss for words.


    "You''d do th'' same for any one of us," Cass stated, matter-of-factly.


    "Yes I would," I replied with a nod, and without thinking. As I said it, I realized I meant it. I really would do anything I could to help them if I found out they were in some kind of trouble. I hadn''t known any of them for very long - I''d known Cass and ED-E the longest, but I''d only known those two for about a week. Despite that, I already considered all of them really close friends. I suppose it''s hard to describe, but that''s just the way it is.


    "Only thing is," I said with a smirk "you guys don''t seem to get in the same kind of trouble that I do."


    "Yeah, speaking of trouble, where''s that Orris guy?" Arcade looked out of the back window again. "Aren''t you supposed to be busy pretending to be a helpless tourist or something?"


    "Yeah... about that..."


    "Let me see if I''ve got this straight," Veronica stated as we drove through Freeside. "Everything was going fine, right up to the point when what''s-his-face exploded."


    "That doesn''t make sense, tho," Cass said from the passenger seat. "Th'' way you were describing him, he sounded like a grade-a fuck up."


    "A bit of an idiot," Veronica added.


    "Exactly," Cass nodded, leaning back in her chair. "Who''d waste th'' time''n effort blowin'' him up?"


    "What about you, Arcade?" I added. He perked his head up, and looked confused.


    "Sorry, what?"


    "You''ve just been awful quiet during my story," I said. "What''s your take on this whole thing?"


    "I''m just trying to figure out what the assassin might have used," Arcade furrowed his brow and started stroking his chin. "You said there was a really loud explosion like a thunderbolt, a beam of blue energy, and then he got blown in half, right?" I nodded.


    "It all happened kind of at once, but pretty much, yeah."


    "That sounds kind of like the discharge from a Te Cannon," Veronica spoke up.


    "That sounds kind of like the discharge from a Te Rifle prototype," Arcade said at exactly the same time as Veronica. The two of them just sort of turned and stared at each other. Cass, on the other hand, chuckled.


    "What are you talking about, Te Rifle?" Veronica asked Arcade. "It''s not a rifle, it''s a shoulder mounted cannon."


    "I''m a bit confused as to how you know what a Te Cannon is in the first ce..." Arcade studied her intently. "What did you say you did again?"


    "Procurement specialist," Veronica responded quickly,pletely deadpan. Arcade merely rolled his eyes.


    "What, is that just another fancy name for scavenger? Kind of like how people in the Mojave insist on calling it ''prospecting'' instead of calling it what it actually is?"


    "Man," Cass had been leaning over her chair, watching the two in the backseat. "You two sound like an'' old married couple, y''know that, right?" When the two of them looked back at her with a look of abject horror, Cass busted outughing. Both of them shook their heads simultaneously.


    "Ew," the two of them said, practically in unison.


    "If you two can manage to stop bickering for a moment," I pulled the Corvega to a stop outside The Kings School of Impersonation. "I think we''re here."


    "What do you have for me?" The King asked, reclining in his chair in the theater. Up on the stage was another one of the Kings, sitting on a stool with a guitar across hisp.


    "Orris was a fraud," I said simply, sitting down in the chair next to him. "He faked attacks on his clients with like 3 or 4 hired goons and then yed hero. I mean, hell, his gun had nks." The King just sort of nodded, and he furrowed his brow slightly.


    "So, that''s how it happens... Okay then, I''ll have some guys pull him off the street when no one''s looking."


    "Actually," I said, scratching the back of my head, and trying to look nonchnt. "Orris shouldn''t really be a problem any longer. If you catch my meaning?" I had decided on the drive over to keep quiet to The King about the assassin. I don''t think he would''ve believed me anyway.


    "Ah. It went down like that, huh? Spare me the details," he shrugged and gave his dog a scratch behind the ears. "I guess it can''t be helped now. You''re not subtle, but you get the job done, and done quick. That''s good enough for me. So maybe you can help me with something else."


    "Another job, eh?" I asked. The King nodded. "So what''s the deal this time? I hope it''s not pretending to be helpless again, ''cause that didn''t really work so well."


    "Nah, nothing like that. I was just hoping you could help out a couple of friends of mine."


    "Is this just what the Kings do then?" I asked. "Put bullies in their ce, and help people out around Freeside?" The King just chuckled.


    "A bit, yeah. See, the thing you gotta understand, is this: Freeside is my home. It''s home to every one of the Kings. More than that, though, it''s home to a lot of really good people. But things around here have gotten... well, pretty dangerous, to be honest. It wasn''t always like this, though."


    "It wasn''t?" I asked, honestly a bit shocked. Even back West, in "civilized" ces in the NCR like Shady Sands, Sac-Town, or Vault City, there was still violence, crime, gangs...


    "No. Back in the old days, we were all just tribes or scavengers living in this area, just trying to make a living. And then, about ten years ago now, Mr. House came around, made an offer to the three biggest tribes willing to listen. They became the Three Families, and started running the first three casinos he opened on the Strip. He made more offers to other tribes as he opened up more casinos, until he filled up the Strip. The rest of us outside the gates were left to fight over the crumbs, living in the shadow of those more fortunate. Things got pretty nasty for a while."


    "So how do the Kings fit in with all this?" I asked. "Did you guys step in when the fighting started, bring the peace?" The King shook his head.


    "Not really. Well, not right away. See, the Kings were never really a tribe. Not until me and Pace found this ce, I guess."


    "Pace?" I tried thinking back to all the Kings whose names I knew: Vince, Jimmy, Clint, Danny... Didn''t know a Pace.


    "Yeah, Pacer, you know?" I just continued to stare at him nkly. "You''ve probably seen him around, he''s the big guy, likes wearin'' the jailhouse rocker outfit."


    "Oh, you mean the guy who tried to get some caps out of me when I first got here?" I asked. The King shrugged.


    "Tried to get some money from you, did he? Don''t judge him too harshly for that. He probably took you for a squatter, looking for a ce to settle down. Anyway, he and I founded The Kings when we discovered this ce. We were practically kids at the time. It was all boarded up, run down, didn''t look like anybody had touched it since before the bombs. Near as I can tell, this ce was some sort of religious institution."


    "Seriously?" I deadpanned. The King just chuckled.


    "Oh, I know it says ''school'' out front, but everything in here was rted to the worship of some guy from back in the day, who folks held up to be the epitome of cool. People used toe here from all around to learn about him, to dress like him, dance like him, sing like him, move like him, even speak like him. To <strong>be</strong> him. If that''s not worship, I don''t know what is."


    "So, is that what you guys do, pretend to be this guy?"


    "Somethin'' like that, yeah. There were some holotapes here when we first arrived, but they stopped working a few years back, so I think Pace and I are the only ones left who still remember what he sounds like. But the thing of it is, we don''t even know his real name. All the posters you saw out in the other room, they all just referred to him as "The King."


    "And that''s where you got the name from."


    "Well, that and the giant sign outside," The King smirked. "This ce could''ve been ''The King''s House of Dog Chow'' and I still would have taken the name." He scratched Rex behind the ears. "I like to think we keep the memory alive... see, The Kings are different than other gangs. And not just because we dress better. We''re all about an idea, you see? Where every man is free to follow his own path, do his own thing. Where every man is a king in his own right. That''s why we stepped up, to help quiet things down. The people living here... we wanted a ce of our own. A ce where nobody could tell us what to do - and more than that, we didn''t want to go elsewhere to find it. So we took control of this ce, and made it our own. That''s all Freeside is, really. It''s the best of a bad situation."


    I nodded, thinking over all he''d told me. I could be wrong, but I think The King was the first truly, legitimately decent human being I''d ever met. Here he was, a guy with practically a small army, and what does he do with his influence? He tries to help people, to try and make Freeside safer... to make life for everyone living here better. The kind of person who does that just doesn''t exist.


    "Alright," I finally said. "So, what''s the job?"


    "Ever since the Strip was finished, a lot of people have arrived who couldn''t afford to get in, and have just ended up squatting in Freeside. A lot of the locals resent the sheer number of neers. Most, but not all, of the neers havee from the NCR. In turn, a lot of the neers have gotten ornery from all the hate directed their way. Sometimes, things get violent. This is one of those times. A few friends of mine were attacked recently, and I want you to find out who did it before any of my boys jump to conclusions. Word''se down that they''re over at the Old Mormon Fort just north of here. Head on over and see if they remember anything."


    "Goddamn, I could use a drink," I heard Cass mumble from the passenger seat as I drove through Freeside.


    "So, drink something," I replied, only half joking. "Where''s that sk I always see you carrying?"


    "If I had anything to drink, I''d be drinkin'' it already. B''sides, I ran outta whiskey fer m''sk, like, two hours ago."


    "Well, it was bound to happen eventually," Veronica leaned into the front and yfully patted Cass on the shoulder. "Queen Whiskey has finally run dry!"


    "Pfft," Cass scoffed, tipping her hat further back on her head. "Not a chance. I''ll find somethin'' soon, just you watch."


    "Hey, Sheason?" Arcade spoke up, ignoring the other two. "You said we were headed back to the Old Mormon Fort, right?" I nodded.


    "Yeah, The King wants me to check on some friends of his that got beat up. I think he said their names were Roy and Wayne, or something like that. Why?"


    "Alright. I''m probably going to stick around the Fort for a while. Got a few things to do, and I need to talk to Julie about a couple of things, too."


    "Fine by me, man," I shrugged. "Take as long as you need."


    I parked the Corvega and made my way to the gates of the Mormon Fort. It was almost exactly like I remembered it from a few days ago.


    "Hell, Mr. Fisher. Wee back!" I heard a cheery voice to my side. It was Julie Farkas, her mohawk as pointy and outrageous as ever. "You look healthy, considering thest time I saw you. I take it Usanagi treated you well?"


    "Well enough, I suppose," I said with a shrug. "Arcade wanted to talk with you, though."


    "Oh, hello Arcade. I didn''t see you back there." Arcade just sort of nodded.


    "Now, before you two get involved in some discussion about science and medicine using words half of us have never heard of and don''t know the meaning of, I actually had a question myself. I''m looking for these two guys, Roy and Wayne? The King wanted me to check up on them." Julie just smiled sweetly.


    "That sounds like The King. We''ve actually had arge number of injuries from fights breaking out thest several days. You can find those two in the big medical tent on the southern edge of the Fort."


    The inside of the tent smelled like vomit and formaldehyde.


    It was easily thergest tent in the Old Mormon Fort, with at least two dozen medical gurneys, with what looked like stained cots resting on top of each. A few in the far back looked like they''d been converted into makeshift operating tables. Nearly every cot was upied, with people sitting or lying on them - some had more than one person. For all the injured, there were only two doctors in Followersbcoats hovering about, checking on people.


    To my left, I saw a man sitting on a nearby cot. He had an old, wrinkled face and thinning white hair - I could only see half of his face, though, because of arge bandage and an eye patch covering his left eye. He was wearing some brownish grey rags, and his right arm was in a sling. His one visible eye was closed.


    "Hey, uh..." I gently nudged him in the shoulder, and he scrunched his face up in a grimace. "I hate to bother you, but do you know where I can find Roy and Wayne?"


    "Goddamn, what now?" he groaned, turning to me. "Can''t you see I want to be left alone with my friend here?" He motioned to the ck man lying on the cot across from him. His friend''s right arm was in a cast, and he was wearing a dark red hoodie that had been amateurishly stitched together - it looked like the kind of job I''d have done. He was softly snoring in that way people do when they''re only pretending to be asleep.


    "Look," I said. "The King asked me to look into their attack. Do you know where I can find them?"


    "The King?" The old man raised his visible eyebrow, and his friend stirred. "Oh, well, that''s different then. I''m Roy. That''s Wayne over there."


    "Is there anything you can tell me about the attack, like who was responsible?" I asked.


    "Well, it happened prettytest night. Around eleven, I think. The pair of us had made some caps off a bit of scrap we found, so we decided to invest it wisely."


    "Invest?" Veronica asked from behind me. Roy just nodded.


    "Yeah, we went to the Wrangler." Cass and I exchanged amused looks, and Veronica just shook her head as Roy continued.


    "Anyway, when we left, I think we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, because we ended up in the squatter side of town. Out of nowhere, these big guys showed up and started barking questions at us. Wanted to know if we were locals. The kid there''s about as proud as a local gets around here, and started yelling back at them. Next thing I know, I''m facedown in the dirt getting the snot kicked out of me. The kid got the worst of it, though." I just raised an eyebrow at that, looking at the two of them.


    "Seriously? No offense, but you look pretty beat up," Cass chimed in, giving voice to what I was thinking.


    "Yeah, well," Roy coughed loudly. "That''s just because I''m old and fragile. Wayne over there, he''s still at that age where you''re made of rubber and magic."


    "Do you remember anything about the people who attacked you?" I asked. "Something I might be able to tell The King to identify them by?" Roy shook his head.


    "Not really, no. It was really dark, so I didn''t get a good look at them before I was face down on the ground. Wayne saw more than I did," he nudged to cot across from him with his foot, and Wayne stirred himself ''awake.'' "It''s okay Wayne. The King sent him." Wayne sat up, and only opened one of his eyes; his right eye looked swollen shut.


    "That true? Did The King really send you?" I nodded.


    "He did. And anything you could tell me about what happened might help."


    "Well..." Wayne looked a little nervous. "I don''t really know what else I can add. They were a bunch of guys... better dressed than most Freesiders, I guess. That help?"


    "Every little bit helps, thanks," I nodded, thinking about that. "Do you mean like someone from The Strip better dressed?" Wayne shook his head.


    "No, they weren''t suits, they were... well, kind of better dressed like you guys, actually," I blinked, and realized that he was right - Cass, Veronica and I really did look better dressed than most people around Freeside. Although, that probably was just because we''d gotten the chance to wash with clean water recently.


    "Sorry I couldn''t help more, especially since you''re being so nice," Wayne added, drooping his shoulders a bit. Suddenly, he perked up and snapped his fingers with the arm that wasn''t in the cast. "Hey, wait! I just remembered something. I think one of the guys that beat us up called the other by name. We''d just about had it when one of them said ''Hey Lou, we gotta go!''"


    "Alright, so, we''re looking for a guy named Lou? I''m sure that narrows things down," Veronica said with a chuckle.


    "Well, I think he said Lou," Wayne furrowed his brow, and looked like he was really thinking hard about this. "It might have been something else... now that I think about it, it was Lou... something. I think it was something with a T," Wayne paused, and then practically shouted "Tenant! That''s what he called him, Lou Tenant!" He beamed at us, and looked very pleased with himself. I think I heard the unmistakable p of Veronica burying her face in her palm behind me.


    "He probably said ''Lieutenant,'' Wayne," I heard Roy chide his friend before turning back to me. "The boy means well, but he''s as dumb as a mutant sometimes." I couldn''t help but chuckle a bit.


    "Hey, don''t worry about it, man. I''ll be sure to tell The King what you told me."


    "I really hope you find the bastards that did this," Roy said, grimacing as he shifted position on the cot. "Things in Freeside haven''t been this bad since right before the riots when the Strip filled up."


    "So, you found anything out yet?" The King asked when I stepped back into the theater.


    "Well, I talked to your friends. They were attacked by soldiers - one of them called the other a Lieutenant." The King didn''t look surprised at all. He just sort of nodded.


    "Bunch of soldier boys, huh? If they''re soldiers, that means they''re NCR. They usually don''te around these parts since their big base is on the other side of the Strip. If they''rein'' over here now, it''s got to be a for a reason. I didn''t want to believe the rumors that they''re looking to take over Vegas, but now... if something big is going down, I''m sure rumors of it will have spread. Ask around, over in the squatter areas where the NCR folk hang."


    "Got any other leads?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Last time I had to get information out of squatters, I had to pay through the nose before I got anything I could use."


    "Alright, that''s fair enough," The King shrugged. "You might also mosey back on over to the Mormon Fort and chat Julie Farkas up. The Followers tend to be in the know about these things. Just don''t ask her what to do about it. She''ll probably ask you to hug someone or somethin''."


    "You''re kiddin'' me!" Cass practically yelled when I told her. "Back to th'' Fort? We were just fuckin'' there!"


    "Backtracking, thy name is Fisher," Veronica just smiled andughed at me.

 Chapter 26: A Little More Action

    Chapter 26: A Little More Action


    <em>You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, your little jukebox in the Mojave Wastnd. I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas, fanning the mes of your passion. Got some Nat King Coleing upter on in the program, but right now it''s time for some news. Arge group of Fiends made an attempt to force their way into the front gate of Camp McCarran earlier this week. Even though they were sessfully driven off by NCR troops defending the base, one Major Dhatri spoke to one of our representatives, saying that, quote, "This is thest fucking straw!" The NCR is now looking to hire mercenaries to help deal with the mounting Fiend threat. The news this hour has been brought to you by the Ultra-Luxe Hotel and Casino: Live life in thep of luxury. More ssicsing right up for you, so stay tuned.</em>


    I do not like backtracking. Retracing my steps has always felt like paying for the same real estate twice, for some reason. Not that I''ve ever had to pay for real estate... On the other hand, talking to Julie Farkas seemed the most sensible option, since it was already getting close to five. I''m sure that given enough time and caps, I could <em>probably</em> get something useful out of the squatters and junkies. But, quite frankly, I wasn''t interested in spending that much time and money when Julie probably knew what was going on anyway.


    That''s what I kept telling myself at least as I, yet again, walked into the Old Mormon Fort. However, this time, Julie wasn''t there to greet me. In fact, I couldn''t find her anywhere.


    "How hard is it to find one woman in ab coat and a Mohawk?" I finally said aloud after ten minutes of searching every single tent in the Mormon Fort, anding up empty handed.


    "You lookin'' for Julie?" I heard a voice behind me speak up. I turned around and was face to face with one of the armed guards I''d seen walking around the Fort. "Yeah, she''s in her office, talking with Arcade." He took a hand off the rifle slung across his chest, and pointed to the two story tower in the southwest corner of the Fort.


    "... oh." I saidmely. "Uh... thanks." Cass just looked smug. ED-E let off a few beeps that could almost be mistaken for chuckles.


    "Guess it''s not all that hard at all," Veronica chimed in unhelpfully.


    "That''s what she said?" Cass couldn''t even finish before she started cracking up.


    "Oh, don''t start!"


    "Julie?" I asked, knocking on the door. No answer, so I tried the handle and found it was unlocked. Inside was a very small room made even smaller by the sheer amount of clutter filling it: ckboards filled with chalk scribbles, chemistry sets, several filing cabs overflowing with papers and notes, diagrams, x-rays, and at least two head-high bookcases full of books.


    "Someone''s a pack rat," I heard Veronica say from behind me.


    "You should talk," Cass nudged Veronica in the ribs, and looked around. "Guess nobody''s home."


    "Or we could just see if she and Arcade belong to the voicesing from upstairs," I said, pointing to the staircase in the corner.


    "Huh. How''d I miss that?" Cass asked aloud.


    "Probably the same way I missed that this building even existed in the first ce," I shrugged. As the three of us made our way up the stairs (ED-E was busy hovering about outside, chasing a giant rat alongside a couple of local kids) the muffled voicesing from upstairs became much more distinct.


    "So, you''re saying it is possible then?" I heard Julie ask.


    "In a sense, yes," Arcade replied. "We were just wrong about using barrel cacti. I''ve done some calctions and I believe it''s entirely possible to create new stimpacks if we were to use Broc Flower extract as a catalyst,bined with liquefied Xander Root."


    "This is very good work, Arcade. I can''t believe the answer was staring us in the face this whole time." She made a soft ''hmm''-ing sound. "And you said this research was pointless."


    "I''m notpletely done yet, Julie. I mean, I am going to have to run some actual tests to be sure, I just haven''t gotten the chance yet..." Before the two of them could continue, I reached the top of the stairs and knocked on the nearby wall to grab their attention. They both turned towards me at the noise.


    "Hey Julie, Arcade. The front door was open," I said quickly. "Sorry to interrupt, but I just had a quick question for you Julie."


    "Certainly," Julie said, taking a sip from the tea cup in her hand. "What do you need?"


    "You wouldn''t happen to know anything about NCR soldiers here in Freeside, would you?" Julie''s face, which had been smiling, suddenly grew serious. She furrowed her brow and set the tea cup down on the table between herself and Arcade.


    "A little, yes. I know a friend of mine, Major Elizabeth Kieran, has been handing out supplies to the poor a little west of here. What of it?"


    "Wayne told me that one of the people who attacked him and Roy was a Lieutenant. The King thinks the NCR troops have been the ones attacking locals." Julie merely sighed.


    "I know something has them riled up, but I''ve been too busy with other matters to really look into it."


    "Like making new stimpacks? I couldn''t help but overhear you two on the way up." Arcade nodded.


    "That was just one of the projects Julie had me working on. Of course, if this actually works, then we''re going to have the problem of finding enough ethanol to keep the equipment sanitized and sterile..." Arcade started mumbling to himself and stroking his chin, obviously lost in thought once again. Julie shook her head and smiled at Arcade as she turned back to me.


    "If you''re looking into the matter, I suggest you talk to Elizabeth. She''s in charge of the operations here in Freeside. She''s... well, I''ll be honest, she''s not exactly the warmest person, but she has a very strong sense of loyalty. She probably won''t open up to you right away. If you mention that I sent you her way, she''ll probably be more cooperative."


    "I will. Thanks for the help," I said with a nod.


    It didn''t take long to find the ce where the NCR had set up shop in Freeside. Julie had said they were operating out of a small, red brick building with no windows in the far western part of Freeside, close to Cerulean Robotics and the abandoned train station near the broken I-15 overpass.


    Of course, the two big guys leaning on the wall on either side of the building''s front door, keeping an obvious watch, probably helped it stand out as well. I finally understood what Wayne meant when he said they were dressed better than most Freesiders when I finally got a look at the two guards. They weren''t wearing rags, but instead were in outfits that wouldn''t have looked out of ce on mercenaries: leather jackets and vests, forearm armor, ammo pouches all over, that sort of thing. ED-E hovered by the car as the three of us made our way to the door. One of the big guys stood up off the wall, and held out a hand to try and stop us.


    "Hold up," he said in a gruff voice. "What''s the password?" Now that I got an up-close look at them, there was something that caught my eye: they had subdued military style patches sewn onto their outfits. They were small, and made out of dark fabrics that sort of blended into their clothes, and it easily identified them as NCR... but only up close. The one still leaning against the wall had Captain''s bars, and the one talking to me had Sergeant''s chevrons.


    "I''m here to see Major Kieran on urgent business. It''s important that I talk to her right away." The Sergeant took a step back, seemingly surprised that I mentioned her by name. He looked back to the Captain, who just nodded as he continued to lean against the wall.


    "I... uh, I suppose it''s all right if you''re here to see the Major. Head on through."


    The inside of the building was surprisingly small, and appeared even smaller because it was jam-packed to the brim, wall-to-wall, with people. A few were crowded around tables, eating food and drinking water out of brown stic bottles, but most were standing around in a big crowd near a counter at the back. There were a few construction lights providing a yellowish-orange sort of illumination hooked up to the ceiling, connected to wires that looked like they''d been stapled to the peeling ster, all of which led back to a small electric generator, loudly and steadily chugging away.


    "Here you are," I heard a soft (and yet somehow, surprisingly loud) voice over the general murmur of the crowd. "Food and water here for any citizen of the NCR. Please, have some." I tried to shove my way through the crowd to get a better look, and saw that the owner of the voice was a woman with closely cropped brown hair, and a face that looked dry and stressed from entirely too much work. She was wearing a dirty ck leather jacket, kept snug and secure like a military uniform with the aid of several leather straps, and two ammo bandoliers strung across her chest. On the cor of her jacket, I saw a patch with a subdued dark orange oak leaf.


    "Oy!" A voice yelled in my ear, and I got elbowed in the ribs. "Fuckin'' wait yer turn man! I''m starvin'' here!" The man was wearing a dirty denim jacket, a ballcap with a pair of goggles perched on the brim, and he had bags under his eyes the size of my car''s tires.


    "Hey, calm down, I''m not here for the food. I''m here to see the Major," and with that, I finally squeezed my way to the counter. "Excuse me, are you Major Kieran?"


    "Yes..." She just sort of looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "I''m a Major in the NCR supply corps. Can I help you?"


    "I just wanted to ask you a few questions, do you have a minute?" She looked me up and down, before she finally nodded.


    "Alright,e on back here and we can talk. Corporal, take over." She motioned to one of the soldiers in the back, who set down a bup sack and took over her spot handing out food at the counter. She and I both moved towards the wall - though, it must be said, she had an easier go of it than me, because she didn''t have to contend with half a dozen people all crowding towards the counter. When I finally got to the wall, she lifted up a hatch and opened up a door to let me in the back.


    "So," she said after she closed the counter''s hatch behind me. "What can I do for you, Mr..."


    "Fisher. Sheason Fisher. I just wanted to ask a few questions about, er, all of this," I tried to vaguely gesture to the crowd of people in the tiny building. "All these people here - are they all just NCR citizens?"


    "Yes they are," she nodded. "The food and wateres from the NCR supply corps, after all."


    "Do you serve food to locals as well?" She visibly stiffened, and crossed her arms across her chest.


    "No, I''m afraid we don''t," she said curtly. "Do you have a friend you wanted to bring in?"


    "Not really, I''m just a little curious. I''d heard you were handing out food to the poor. Why don''t you serve food to everyone?"


    "That''s not really a pleasant topic of conversion," she pursed her lips and started to scowl, before finally adding "Let''s just say we have our reasons." Well, Julie was right. She really isn''t opening up. Time to y my joker.


    "Julie Farkas told me to ask. She said it was important." On hearing that name, the Major''s eyes lit up, and her expression softened.


    "You know Julie?" She uncrossed her arms, and her stance rxed slightly. "Not everyone in the NCR sees eye-to-eye with the Followers anymore, but they''re okay in my book... mostly because of her." She cleared her throat, and paused, like she was trying to give herself time to think of what she was going to say next. "If you really want to know, my superiors at McCarran originally sent us here on a relief mission to help the people living in Freeside - both citizens of the NCR and the locals. It was ted to be a massive operation, if I''m honest. We sent an envoy to the King, offering to coordinate the relief effort." She tried to hide a grimace, and inhaled sharply through her nostrils.


    "What, did the King refuse or something?" I asked. That didn''t really sound like him. Helping people out seemed like his M.O.


    "In a manner of speaking, yes," she said bitterly. "The man we sent, Sergeant ck, was brutally beaten within an inch of his life, and barely survived."


    "Wait, what?" I practically shouted. That didn''t sound like The King. She just nodded her head grimly.


    "I don''t joke about the men under mymand. He has to drink all his meals through a straw for the next eight months. Because of that, the relief mission was scrapped. I eventually managed to get clearance to carry out the mission anyway, but with greatly reduced support. Now?" She let out a half-sigh, halfugh. "Now, there aren''t enough supplies to go around, even if I wanted to serve the rest of Freeside. Which I don''t." She lifted up the panel on the counter, making it obvious she wanted me to get out. "But, that''s all in the past now. I should get back to work. Say hi to Julie for me."


    I had a lot to think about while I made my way through the throng of people and towards the front door. Cass and Veronica had both stayed close to the front, and quickly joined me as I walked out the front door and back towards the car. The air outside certainly didn''t feel as close as it had in there.


    "So?" Cass asked. "What''s up? What''d she say?"


    "I need to talk to the King. There''s something here that stinks." Either that, or maybe I''m not as good at reading people as I thought. Maybe I''m just getting old, starting to slip.


    "I''s th'' ''astn'', ev''ryone st''nks," Veronica sounded like she was trying to talk with a giant ball of cotton stuck in her mouth. Cass, ED-E and I looked back at her, and it didn''t take me long to see she had an open box of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes in her hands... and one of the old-world sweets still in her mouth. She looked back at the both of us, and audibly gulped. "What?"


    "Did you grab those from in there?" I pointed back at the brick building. Veronica just shrugged.


    "I like Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, what can I say?"


    "You know they don''t make those anymore. All the boxes that currently exist <em>have existed</em> for thest 200 years. You know that, right?" I asked. As if in response, she took a big bite from another one of the cubes of cake and icing.


    "Eh, these things have enough preservatives in them, they''ll probablyst another 200 years before they start to go bad."


    It was a very short drive back to The King''s ce. As Cass, Veronica and I walked away from my car and towards the front door to get some answers out of the King, the door swung open and about six Kings spilled out, led by Pacer. He looked at me, seemingly not recognizing me at first. But then he scowled at me.


    "I know you," he said in that same old world ent as before. "You''re that Courier everyone''s been talkin'' about, ain''t ya?"


    "Yeah, and I know you," I said, crossing my arms across my chest and keeping my voice level. "You''re the guy who tried to extort money out of me when I wanted to see the King earlier." He just snorted.


    "I heard something else, too. I heard that NCR soldierdy told you some wild story about them sending a messenger to us to work out some kinda deal," The Kings with Pacer all seemed to try and surround the three of us; I heard Cass and Veronica move their backs to mine and each other. Off in the distance, I heard ED=E spout off a burst of marching music from his spot over the car. Pacer stepped closer to me, pointing a finger at my chest. "That''s a load of bullshit, and it''s nothing to bother the King with. More like they sent someone to spy on us and he wasn''t tough enough tost in Freeside. So, how about you do everyone a favor, and keep your mouth shut about it." As he spoke, everything started to make sense.


    "Maybe," I shrugged... but then I smirked, getting a funny idea. "I suppose anything is possible. How much is my silence worth to you?" Pacer just shook his head and snorted at me again.


    "Cute," Pacer motioned with his head, and the Kings around us started to disperse and walk away. He started walking closer to me, instead. "Do what you want. Just don''t expect it to matter." He walked past me, and quickly caught up with the other Kings walking off. ED-E zoomed away from my car and hovered near me, beeping out a few electronic notes. I just sort of stared at Pacer as he walked away.


    "Well, I think we know who''s lyin'' t''us now. Y''weren''t really gonna keep quiet if he gave ya money, were ya?" Cass asked. I shook my head.


    "Nah, I just thought it''d be kind of funny if I turned his words from before against him. Thing I want to know, though..." I opened the door to The Kings and started walking. "How the hell does he even know I went to talk to Major Kieran, or what was said?"


    "What do you mean?" Veronica asked.


    "We were there, what, five minutes ago? Less? And then we drove straight here." Veronica shrugged.


    "Maybe they have radios or something? I dunno."


    "What if..." Cass grabbed my shoulder and got a crazed look in her eye. "Maybe they have these little handheld phones that''re also, like, cameras an''puters an'' music yers?" Veronica and I just sort of paused and stared at her. "I mean, it''s an idea."


    "So, you''re saying all the Kings have handheldputers that are smaller, more advanced, and morepact than a Pip Boy?" I said, holding up my arm. "No offense, Cass, but that''s a bit of a stretch for guys like the Kings. The Brotherhood, maybe, but not the Kings."


    "Yeah, I suppose... does sound kinda stupid, now''m thinkin'' ''bout it." Cass sighed. Veronica, on the other hand, just stayed strangely quiet.


    When the three of us entered the theater, The King was, unsurprisingly, sitting in his usual spot in the center of the room. One of the Kings was leaving the stage, which was full of musical instruments, like guitars and drums, and two rusty speakers on either end. The King must have heard meing, because he turned in his chair when I got close.


    "Well, hey there Fisher," The King said, taking a drink from the ss on his table. "Have a seat. You find out somethin'' about them soldier boys yet?"


    "I think I''ll stand. The NCR is distributing supplies in a building down by the old train station." The King raised an eyebrow at that.


    "Handing out supplies? Like food and stuff?" I nodded.


    "Yeah, the ce looks like a soup kitchen."


    "That ain''t nothin'' to get ruffled over."


    "Well, the woman in charge, Major Kieran, is only handing out food to NCR citizens."


    "Ah," the King leaned back in his chair. "That would exin the goons. They''re here to keep people like my friends away from the food. That ain''t something I support. No sir."


    "There''s something else," I said. "Something Pacer didn''t want me to tell you."


    "Pace?" The King looked genuinely surprised. "What''s Pace got to do with -"


    "Major Kieran told me that someone was sent to you to help coordinate the relief efforts."


    "Wait a minute, wait a minute!" The King practically shouted. "She said <strong>what</strong>?!" That''s about what I thought.


    "Yeah, the Major said the envoy they sent over to discuss the issue was severely beaten and only barely survived. Has to eat through a straw now." It took practically no time at all for The King to connect the dots. He just sighed and clutched at his forehead.


    "Damnit, Pace..." The King got out of his chair to face me. "If nothin'' else, this exins why they''re all riled at us. Seems like we just have a big misunderst-" He was very suddenly cut off by the door of the theater mming open. Everyone turned to look at the sound, and Vince - the guy who first told me the King wanted to see me a few hours ago - ran into the room.


    "King!" He slid to a stop right next to us. "King, we got problems!"


    "Lay it on me. What''s going on?"


    "A couple blocks from here, over by the old train station - there''s a shootout going down between some of Pacer''s boys and some strangers. I think the strangers might be NCR."


    "What is that damn fool doing?!" The King turned back and pointed at me. "I need you to get out there to defuse the situation! Tell them I''m willing to cooperate, before Pace gets himself killed!"


    I nodded and was just about to leave... and then I got an idea. It was another stupid, reckless, dangerous idea... but the King wanted to make sure the NCR knew his intentions as soon as possible. They probably wouldn''t believe me if I just rocked up and told them. Time was of the essence.


    And I had a car.


    "This don''t seem safe!" The King was sitting in the passenger seat, holding onto the door''s window frame. Cass and Veronica were both in the back, and I was vaguely aware of the two of them rolling around as I sped down the streets.


    "You''re probably right!" I shouted over the sound of the horn. I was having to press into the steering wheel a lot harder than I remember; then again, it''s not like I used the horn that often. I''m just d it still worked. Even so, the noise was enough to make every Freesider jump out of the way while I floored it down Las Vegas boulevard. The engine in the back whined and I heard the clutch shudder as I shifted down into third and turned the car sharply down Ogden avenue.


    The speed I was going, even swerving to miss the asional abandoned wreck, it didn''t take long to see our destination. Off in the distance, I saw the abandoned train station, sitting in the shadow of the broken freeway overpass. Closer to me, though, I could see a metal bus station - and inside, holding a 10mm SMG and trying to take cover behind the metal, was Pacer. Scattered all around the bus station were the bodies of the Kings who''d followed him from before. In the split second I had to look, I couldn''t tell if any of them except Pacer were moving or not.


    The most pressing issue at the moment, though, were all the muzzle shes I saw from around the train station. And that''s where I needed to be.


    "Alright people, hands inside - and hang on!" I yelled. There was a crash and a hideous jolt as the car jumped the curb. As soon as the back wheels started to grip again, I swerved around the Kings lying on the ground, making sure to give them all a wide berth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw The King pull his hand away from the window, and grab the dashboard, so I flipped one of the switches under the empty hole in the dash where the radio was supposed to go. There was a clunk, the whole car rumbled, and sheets of metal shot up from inside the doors, blocking the windows. I turned the wheel on opposite lock and yanked on the handbrake just before we got to the train station. Before anybody knew what was happening, the car was sliding sideways across the broken tarmac, the wheels screeching and belching smoke.


    As soon as a the car finished skidding and came to a halt, I became acutely aware of many, many noises all around - I''d been so focused on driving and not crashing, that I think I''d just tuned everything out. Cass was calling me dozens of variations on "you crazy sonuvabitch!" in frighteningly quick session, Veronica was wondering aloud if we could have another go, and all around the car I heard the unmistakable pings of bullets ricocheting off the armored metal windows and the car''s bodywork.


    "Here, hold this," I told Cass, unbuttoning Roscoe from its holster and handing it to her grip first. I popped open the door just a crack, and shouted loud enough for the NCR soldiers to hear me: "Hold your fire! We''re civilians, we just want to talk!"


    Very shortly after that, the sound of bullets bouncing off the car slowed to a stop. Cautiously, I stepped out of the car with my hands raised. A few of the NCR troops - including the two I''d seen guarding the door from before - got up from behind their respective pieces of cover with their weapons, thankfully, lowered.


    "What''s going on?" I heard a familiar female voice sound off from inside the train station. "Why have you stopped firing?" Major Kieran walked out, with an ammo bandolier slung across her chest and an NCR service rifle in her hands. Really, it was just an old AR-15 with a wooden stock and foregrip, but since the NCR started outfitting (most) of their troops with them, they insisted they be called "service rifles."


    "I''m sorry Major, but he says he''s a civilian, and he looks unarmed," the Captain from before said to her. "What do we do?" The Major just gave me a look, seemingly as confused as all the rest of the NCR troops.


    "You? What are you doing here?" She paused, then seemed to add as an afterthought, "This isn''t really a good time."


    "Look, there''s been a huge misunderstanding here. The King wants to help with that relief effort of yours!" Major Kieran backed up, gripped her rifle tighter (but still didn''t raise it), and narrowed her eyes at me.


    "Like how he helped Sergeant ck? No thanks."


    "Now hang on one minute, missy," The King got out my car and pointed at the Major. "I don''t know where you get your information, but nobody NCR hase to see me about anything! That''s a fact!" If the NCR troops were confused before, this must have really thrown them for a loop.


    "Y''see?" I said, lowering my hands and gesturing towards The King. "Straight from the mouth of the man himself. What d''you think of that?" Major Kieran didn''t answer. Instead, she just walked towards the front of my car; The King did the same, and the two of them met right in front of the Corvega badge on the hood of my car. Both of them looked rather serious, and neither of them was smiling.


    "I guess I can buy that," She finally said. "But if that is true, you should watch your back. We know for a fact Sergeant ck made it to your headquarters. Do you know what happened to him?"


    "I surely do, thanks to Mr. Fisher here. And I am sorry about your Sergeant. If I''d known about what happened to him before, I''d have dealt with this a lot sooner," The King nodded, somberly. "As it is, you have my word that I''m gonnay down thew with my boys - and make sure this sort of thing never happens again."


    "Alright," Kieran nodded, and slung her rifle over her shoulder. "I suppose if you''re willing to deal with us, perhaps we can work something out." The next thing I knew, The King, Major Kieran, and the NCR troopers made their way over to where Pacer and the other Kings were; the Major had agreed to provide first aid to the wounded Kings, while The King tried to, hopefully, knock some sense into Pacer. Luckily, at least from where I was standing, it didn''t look like any of the Kings had been seriously injured. Either the NCR troops were horrible shots, or they were merely aiming to wound.


    Without warning, I felt a hand whack me rather hard upside the head.


    "The hell, man!" Cass yelled at me. I rubbed the back of my head. "Y''could''ve gotten us all killed. Th''fuck were y''thinkin?"


    "What are you worried about? We''re fine." I said with a shrug. I rapped my knuckles against the metal ''windows'' on my car. "That''s what these were for." Cass just half-nodded, half shook her head.


    "Okay, I''ll admit. Wasn''t expecting these. Seriously though, how''d you know y''weren''t gonna get shot th'' minute y''opened th'' door?" She asked. I paused, and thought for a moment.


    "Do you want the real answer, or the badassed answer?" I asked with a smirk. Cass just opened and closed her mouth a couple times, and gave me an exasperated look.


    "Give me th'' badass answer first, it''ll probably be more interestin''."


    "I didn''t. It was a gamble, I rolled the dice, and I won. Fitting, for Vegas, don''t you think?" I asked. Cass just shook her head again.


    "And th'' real answer?" Cass asked. I peered over my shoulder, and made sure there weren''t any NCR troops nearby. Luckily, they were off a ways off, and all of them were out of earshot.


    "NCR troopers are crap when ites to using their own initiative. Confuse them with a situation they''re unfamiliar with, and nine times out of ten they''ll just stop and give you an opening, is what I''ve found."


    "Yeah, th'' badass answer''s more interestin''," Cass opened the rear door and looked inside the car. "V, what''d you think?" Veronica poked her head out of the car, and folded her arms on the door.


    "Yeah," Veronica said with a nod and a smirk. "Definitely go with the first one.


    The next hour or so was a bit of a blur. After he made sure everyone who needed it got medical attention, The King wanted to make sure the spirit of newfound cooperation between The Kings and the NCR troopers under the Major was solidified. And, apparently, that meant holding a party at The Kings ce.


    I still don''t know exactly what it was The King said to Pacer, but the man responsible for setting this whole mess in motion seemed a bit more sedate when everyone arrived for the party. I''m just d he got cleaned up; when I went to check on everyone before leaving the train station, he was bleeding rather badly down the left side of his face. By the time of the party, he looked fine.


    "Hello Sheason," Arcade said to me as he and Julie walked in. "So, I hear you sorted out this whole mess practically singlehanded. The Indestructible Courier now has a knack for diplomacy, too."


    "Is that what people are saying now?" I sighed, unable to contain my utter exasperation at my apparent reputation.


    "Well, that''s what I''m saying," Arcade said with a smirk.


    "All I did was get the people who needed to talk this out in the same ce. That''s it. And I suppose I''d be a pretty poor courier if I couldn''t ferry people from ce to ce as well."


    "I''m just d no one else was seriously hurt. I think the worst of the Kings will be back on his feet by the middle of next week," Julie said. "And maybe now, things in Freeside might get less violent."


    The two of them left to mingle in the ever growing crowd of people in the theater, and I left to go to the drinks table. Very kindly, The Kings had set up a table with refreshments, and didn''t even bother setting out stuff like punch that would''ve inevitably been spiked; it was just row after row of dozens of bottles of liquor. There were some Kings on the stage setting up some musical instruments like a guitar, a drum set, and a double bass. It distracted me long enough that when I tried to grab the bottle of whiskey I was aiming for, all I grabbed was air.


    "Told ya I''d find somethin''!" Cass smirked, putting the bottle to her lips and knocking it back. I shook my head andughed, grabbing a bottle of beer from a nearby chest of ice instead.


    "That you did, cheers," the two of us clinked our bottles together. Unfortunately, we were interrupted by the arrival of Pacer.


    "Hey there girl," his voice came from behind me. "This guy botherin'' ya? What do you say I show you a real good time, give you a massage in my ce upstairs?" I had to hold backughter. Cass, on the other hand, wasn''t so diplomatic.


    "Never gonna happen. I got a better idea, if yer lookin'' fer somethin'' t''do though. How about you stick yer head in a door, an'' m it shut really, really hard?" I didn''t bother turning around, but he must have left after that because I didn''t hear him again. The two of us just startedughing, and Cass took another drink as she looked up at the stage. "So what th'' fuck''r they doin'' up there, anyway?"


    "What, you haven''t heard?" One of the Kings said to Cass, reaching for a drink from the table. "The King has said he''s gonna put on a show! You guys are in for a real treat, let me tell you. He hasn''t done this in years!"


    As if on cue, the lights in the theater dimmed, and a couple of spotlights lit up the stage. All the Kings in the crowd cheered and started pping. The King strutted on stage, gave a wave, and grabbed the mic.


    "Hey everyone! I want y''all to make sure the Major''s boys here feel wee. They''re my guests here - treat them wrong, you answer to me, understand?" The crowd gave a littleugh, and The King continued. "I''ve been doing a lot of thinking about what went down today, and I think it''s time for a little more talkin'', and a little less fightin''. So I''m gonna kick it off tonight with a song about my hometown. A dream from the old world, from a time when every man had the chance to be a king in his own right. Viva Las Vegas, baby."


    In a sh, the theater erupted - cheers from the crowd, music from the band on stage started sting out of the speakers, and The King started dancing and singing and moving and shaking and... it was oddly hypnotic to watch.


    <em>Bright light city gonna set my soul,</em>


    <em>Gonna set my soul on fire!</em>


    <em>Got a whole lot of money that''s ready to burn,</em>


    <em>So get those stakes up higher!</em>


    <em>There''s a thousand pretty women waitin'' out there,</em>


    <em>And they''re all living, devil may care,</em>


    <em>And I''m just the devil with love to spare,</em>


    <em>Viva Las Vegas! Viva Las Vegas!</em>


    I was just starting to rx, and without really thinking I put my hand in my pocket. My hand brushed against a couple of the Legion coins and... some paper? That was odd, I didn''t remember leaving any notes for myself. So I grabbed it, and tried to get a look at it in the dim light.


    "What''s that?" I barely heard Cass over the noise of the music and the crowd. She leaned in closer to get a better look as I started to unfold it.


    "I think it''s something Orris'' had on him when he got blown apart..." I said, trying to get a better look at it in the dim light.


    <em>Oh, there''s ckjack and poker and the roulette wheel!</em>


    <em>A fortune won and lost on ev''ry deal!</em>


    <em>All you need''s a strong heart and a nerve of steel!</em>


    <em>Viva Las Vegas! Viva Las Vegas!</em>


    I couldn''t really make out many details on the scrap of paper... but I could make out enough. Orris name, several times. The words "payment," "information," "espionage," and "sabotage." A stamp of a red bull in the upper right hand corner. And a name scrawled on the bottom:


    Vulpes Inculta.


    I folded the paper back up and put it in my pocket.


    "What''s up? What''s wrong?" Cass asked, taking another swig of whiskey. I didn''t answer. My mind was still going over what I''d just seen written on that paper that I didn''t even realize I''d had. If nothing else, now I knew why someone would''ve wanted to kill Orris... but even if he was an informant for the Legion, and this heavily implied he was, all it did was just raise more questions than it answered.


    So, for the moment, I decided to ignore the gears turning in my head... and just listen to the music.


    <em>I''m gonna give it ev''rything I''ve got!</em>


    <em>Lady luck please, let the dice stay hot!</em>


    <em>Let me shoot a seven with ev''ry shot!</em>


    <em>Viva Las Vegas! Viva Las Vegas!</em>


    <em>Viva!</em>


    <em>Viva!</em>


    <em>Las Vegas!</em>

 Chapter 27: Bitter Springs

    Chapter 27: Bitter Springs


    <em>You''re listening to Radio New Vegas. I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas, and you look extraordinarily beautiful tonight. Got a little Dean Martining upter on in the program, but right now its time for a little news. Violence in Freeside reached an all time high earlier today, with a shootout between several unidentified parties taking ce near the Cerulean Train Station. It''s unknown if anyone was killed, but I''ve received several reports that the firefight was broken up by a currently unidentified third party, driving a blue Corvega. The news this hour has been brought to you by The Silver Rush: Feel the rush of a warmser in your hands. Up next is a ssic Johnny Cash song. "I Forgot To Remember To Forget," only on Radio New Vegas.</em>


    The party was a lot more fun that I was expecting. There was dancing, there was music, there was alcohol... it was almost enough to make you forget that this whole kerfuffle started in violence. Almost. Even I, the morose motherfucker that I am most of the time, had fun. ED-E was merrily buzzing around the ceiling, beeping in time to the music. I think I even saw Julie and a couple of other Followers that the Kings had invited cut loose and let their hair down a bit. Well... figuratively speaking, in Julie''s case.


    By the time we decided to leave, it was just a little after midnight or so. ED-E was hovering alongside my car as I drove us back to the 38, and I could swear I heard a few of the songs The King had sung being broadcast from his speaker. Arcade was sitting in the passenger seat, and surprisingly enough not all that drunk. Cass and Veronica, on the other hand... well, the only reason either of them had been able to get back to the car was because they''d been leaning on each other, and despite the fact they were both in the backseat, neither of them had let go. So the two of them were hanging off each other, each with bottles of booze in hand, drunkenly singing off-key drinking songs in the backseat of my car.


    "So, Arcade..." I said, trying to ignore the two drunks in the back for the moment. "How was your day?"


    "Not as interesting as yours, I''d wager," Arcade smirked back at me. "Speaking of, did you figure out anything about Orris yet?"


    "Oh! Yeah, hang on..." I pulled the scrap of paper from before out of my pocket and handed it to Arcade. "I think I must have grabbed this along with the cash, because I didn''t even know I had it until after The King started singing. I didn''t get a good look at, but I think I got the gist - I think Orris was a Legion spy or an informant or something. Let''s see what you make of it." Arcade studied the paper intently, pushing his sses further up his nose. He made a "hmm..." sound before turning back to me.


    "This is... yeah, this is pretty cut and dry. I could be wrong, but I think this is the Legion''s version of a receipt. It''s documenting ''payment for services rendered,'' in this case, information about NCR movements within the Strip and Freeside, sabotaging shipments of supplies..." I just nodded as he spoke.


    "Yeah, that''s about what I thought," I said, driving us past the Strip''s front gate. "At least now we know why someone would want to kill that idiot."


    "Maybe..." Arcade handed the paper back to me


    "Maybe?" I asked as I turned into the Lucky 38''s underground car park. "What do you mean? You said yourself, it''s pretty cut and dry."


    "Well, exactly." I just raised an eyebrow, and he continued. "Maybe I''m overthinking things, but doesn''t it seem a bit obvious? A little too convenient, maybe?"


    "You think it might be a setup?" I asked, parking the car and killing the engine. "Like, someone nted it on him, make whoever found the body think he''s Legion?" I got out of the car, and Arcade followed suit; so did Veronica and Cass, still drunkenly singing a bit of a ways behind us as we walked.


    "Well, yeah. A real spy wouldn''t be so careless as to leave something incriminating like that on their person." I thought about that. I didn''t really know much about spies, much less Legion spies, but I had to agree with Arcade just on the grounds ofmon sense. It would probably be safe to assume that, yes, a real spy wouldn''t be that careless. But there was something else that was bothering me.


    "Hang on, if it was a nt, then the assassin would''ve been the one to have nted it, yes?" Arcade nodded. "So, why go to all the trouble of something like that, and then use a weapon that has a chance of turning the target into a pile of ash, or a puddle of goo?"


    I didn''t really get a chance to hear Arcade''s response, because we were suddenly interrupted at that point by Veronica tossing an arm around my neck, and Cass doing the same to Arcade.


    "C''mon boys!" Cass shouted, her face flush and her mouth open in a wide smile. "Sing along! ''Well we fell inta prison, ''bout a quarter ta t''ree, where ah found in mah cell a ss waitin'' fer me! So ah filled what was empty, an'' ah pulled up a stool! But he stood inna corner, th'' ol devil wouldn''t move! He said "Ya drink when yer lonely." No ah drink when I want! He said "You''ll never be sober," Sure, why would I want that? Ah only drink t''be merry, but unfortunATELEEEEEEEY! Ah''m in th'' wrong prison cell an'' th'' wrongpAAAAANYYYY!''"


    We must have looked quite a ridiculous sight, the two of us being led along into the 38 by the two singing drunks. I''m not ashamed to admit, I started singing along as well. I can appreciate a good drinking song, though I think Arcade stayed quiet. ED-E flew skyward as we walked up the stairs and into the 38, seemingly determined to get to the suite before us.


    "Oh hey, w''re here..." Cass said as we walked into the casino. She stumbled on one of the steps, and reflexively grabbed at her hat. Veronica moved to steady her, and Cass just startedughing. "Man, that step came outta nowhere! Did''ja see that?" Veronicaughed with her and the two of them stumbled into the elevator. I just shook my head and chuckled to myself as Arcade and I followed suit.


    "So, V, ah''ve been wond''rin''..." Cass leaned against the back wall of the elevator and tipped her hat back. "Why''re y''always wearing that hood''ve yers?" Veronica was leaning against the adjacent wall of the elevator, and just blinked a few times at that question.


    "Sorry?" She reached up and tugged at the edges of her hood, pulling it closer to her head. "What''s wrong with m''hood?"


    "Nothin'', s''jus''... th'' thing must be itchy as all hell. Plus, t''must be way too hot out inna desert sun," Cass took another swig of whiskey, and mumbled into the bottle "Ah''ve jus'' never seen yer hair..." I''m not sure Veronica heard thatst bit. Even so, Veronica looked embarrassed. In fact, amazingly enough, her face flushed into an even deeper shade of red.


    "I... I just... I mean... that is to say... um..." She clutched at her hood even tighter. "It''s... um, it''s silly. You''llugh."


    "I promise we won''tugh," Arcade said.


    "Arcade promises he won''tugh," I added.


    "I just don''t like people looking at my hair, that''s all," Veronica eventually blurted out. The elevator was silent for a minute or two as it trundled upwards.


    "S''that it?" Cass asked. Before she got an answer, the elevator dinged and the door slid open. I was just about to step out when I came face to face with Boone. As always, he was wearing his sunsses and 1st Recon beret; however, strapped to his back was the camo pattern DKS-501, as well as a backpackrge enough to reasonably amodate a set of armor. He had a revolver and gun belt strapped to his hip, and his bowie knife was strapped to his boot. Wherever he was nning on going, it looked like he was prepping for a fight. Then again, that was kind of par for the course with Boone.


    "Oh," was all he said. He stepped out of the way to let us pass. Arcade was the first out, followed by Cass and Veronica, who were both still drunkenly leaning against each other to keep upright.


    "Seriously, tho''," I heard Cass say as the two of them staggered down the hall. "Wha''s th'' problem wit'' yer hair?" I stepped out of the elevator after them, but Boone just kept staring at me from behind his sunsses.


    "Hey man," I said. "What''s up?"


    "I thought some more about what you saidst night," he stated simply, hiking his rifle up his shoulder. "And I think maybe you''re right."


    "Right? Right about what?" I asked after Boone remained silent.


    "I think... maybe I should go to Bitter Springs. I don''t know what I''m hoping to find there... but I just think I should go."


    "Really?" I thought back to the night before, and vaguely recalled saying something to that effect. "What changed your mind?"


    "Nothing," he replied almost automatically. After a seconds pause, he added: "Dream." Boone sighed. "Just... tired of thinking about it."


    "So, what? Were you gonna walk there or something?" Judging by his appearance, I figured that was exactly his n.


    "If I have to."


    "You know, if you want I can give you a lift, man," I checked the location of Bitter Springs on my Pip Boy. "It''s not that far - a little under an hour''s drive, probably. Sound good?" Boone just slowly started nodding.


    "Yeah. Thanks," the two of us walked into the elevator, and right before the doors closed, he added "I hope this isn''t a mistake."


    Riding with Boone is a very quiet experience. It was almost like how it was beforeing to the Mojave - driving in silence with only the sound of the engine to keep mepany. In a way, I kind of admired him for his silent, stoic nature. He didn''t waste words or breath on unnecessary words or small talk. Whenever he spoke, it was always because he actually had something to say.


    By the time we got close to Bitter Springs, it was just shy of one in the morning. Boone had been sitting in the passenger seat, keeping the butt of his sniper rifle in the footwell and clutching the barrel while silently keeping watch. ED-E was buzzing alongside the car; when the two of us had left the 38, ED-E had followed. Because it was sote, part of me felt I should''ve been more tired than I was. I didn''t really have time to dwell on it, however, because Boone suddenly spoke up.


    "We''re here."


    As soon as the car came to a stop, Boone practically leaped out, leaving his pack in the backseat of my car. I got out of the car as well, and ED-E and I followed him up a winding dirt path that led into a nearby rocky outcrop. Boone came to a halt right in front of what appeared to be a small tent city, dimly illuminated by only about half a dozen lights scattered around random ces. In front of us was a sign: Bitter Springs Refugee Camp. Up the hill, I saw more tents, and a gpoleplete with an NCR g gently pping in the nighttime breeze. I didn''t see any people walking around, which wasn''t surprising, given the time. The few I did see were all sleeping on filthy mattresses under awnings or in tents, lying under dirty brown nkets.


    "This is the ce," Boone said after a few seconds spent staring at the camp. "We got sent here from Camp Golf, looking for some Khans who''d been harassing one of our settlements. I guess one of the settlers was connected, because we sent everything we had. We figured this was a gang hideout, but..." Boone paused, clenching his jaw. "They''d led us to their home."


    When Boone said that, I took another look at all the tents... and I realized a lot of them were the Mongol style octagon tents that the Great Khans seemed to favor. There were plenty army-green tents set up by the NCR, and just as many awnings trying to pass for tents, but now that Boone had pointed it out, the connection became as clear as day. He turned back to me.


    "There''s a ridge called Coyote Tail on the south side. That''s wheremand ordered 1st Recon to set up shop."


    The ridge he led me to wasn''t all that far from where I''d parked my car - it was probably less than an eighth of a mile south. By the time I caught up with Boone, he was standing at the top of the ridge, looking east. I joined him on one side, and ED-E hovered closeby.


    "Canyon 37," he said as soon as I got within earshot. I looked down, and saw a small winding path, between this ridge, and another like it a little ways away. "That''s what the NCR calls the pass down there. It was the Khans'' only escape route, so we set up here to guard it while the main force attacked from the front. Standing orders were to shoot on sight," He sighed, and knelt down, picking up a rifle casing half buried in the dirt. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what he was going to say next... but I asked anyway.


    "So... what happened?"


    "Main force got spotted too soon. We heard shooting. Then Khans starteding through Canyon 37 in bunches, but... it was all wrong, though. Women... children... elderly..." Boone stopped talking for a minute, just staring at the rifle casing in his fingers. "Wounded starteding through, too. We radioed to confirm our orders, but...mand just... they just didn''t <em>get</em> what we were seeing. They told us to shoot till we were out of ammo. So. That''s what we did."


    Suddenly, everything about Boone made so much more sense.


    "That... hell, man," I tried to think of something to say. "I''d be an awful soldier. I don''t think I could''ve gone through with following an order like that." Boone just scoffed a bit, but his expression didn''t change.


    "Maybe, at one point, I wouldn''t have pulled the trigger either..." He sighed heavily. "But I guess that''s why they train you. Break you down... till you''re automatic. Thing is, at the time? I kept telling myself ''I followed my orders. I did what I was supposed to do as a soldier.'' But I''m not a soldier anymore. And those rules don''t seem like much of an excuse, now." Boone shook his head, and slowly stood back up. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the empty rifle casing down into the canyon. "I''m sorry," he said finally, turning back to me. "I don''t know why we''re here. Thought maybe it''d help me see things better."


    "Do you want to head back?" I asked. Boone just shook his head.


    "No. I''d like to camp here for the night. Think some things over."


    "Are you sure?" I asked. Boone nodded.


    "Why do you think I brought a bedroll with me?"


    <em>Darkness surrounded me... but it wasn''t absolute. I couldn''t see my hand in front of my face, or the ground beneath me, but off in the distance I could see the darkened outlines of mountains. Above me, I saw a sky filled with boiling, rolling clouds, lit up from within by lightning. The sky shed constantly, and the delicate sound of thunder boomed directly overhead. However, there was another sound that caught my ear: a soft clicking noise, almost like the ticking of a watch. I fumbled in the darkness until I found my Pip Boy, my fingers searching the outer casing...</em>


    <em>There was a soft mechanical whine and the screen of the Pip Boy lit up when I found the button, and an almost radioactive green glow bathed thend around me. Below my feet, I saw very fine sand, so I started to walk towards the noise, using my Pip Boy to light my way. It didn''t take long to find what I was looking for... but I didn''t immediately know what I was looking at.</em>


    <em>Hovering about a foot off the ground was arge cube, about two feet across with nine multicolored squares on each face. The faces of the cube were rearranging themselves, and apparently that movement was making the clicking noise. I felt like I recognized it from somewhere, but couldn''t ce it - and then it hit me: the boy sitting under the overpass at the 188 trading post. He had been ying with the same kind of puzzle cube, only smaller. He''d given it to me, and now it was resting on the dashboard of my car.</em>


    <em>The puzzle cube clicked one final time, and all the colors matched on every face. It spun on its axis, and slowly began to sink into the sand. I watched it descend into the fine sand like a stone being dropped into water... and in its ce, I saw the silhouette of a man standing just outside the Pip Boy''s radius of light.</em>


    <em>"Hello?" I asked, trying to shine the light to get a better view at the silhouette. There was a soft orange glow by his head, and a trail of smoke expanded outwards.</em>


    <em>"Hello, Courier," a very familiar voice said out of the darkness. The figure stepped forward, and his ck and white checkered jacket became visible.</em>


    <em>"Benny," I lowered my Pip Boy, but he still stayed illuminated. He just kept smoking. "I''m guessing you''re responsible for all this?" I waved a hand around at thendscape. Benny just shrugged.</em>


    <em>"Not really. I''m just here to deliver a message." The smoke from his cigarette hung around his head and refused to dissipate.</em>


    <em>"Hey, I''m the Courier. Delivering messages is my job," I said. Benny just smirked.</em>


    <em>"I just want to make sure you understand what you''re bing. Because the sooner you realize, the sooner you see, and the faster you ept and understand, the more control you''ll have over your own fate," he said. I started walking towards him, but he didn''t get any closer, despite the fact that he wasn''t moving.</em>


    <em>"So, what am I bing, then?" Benny smirked, and took another draw from his cigarette.</em>


    <em>"You''re a weapon, Courier," he stated simply. "You are bing a person of mass destruction. And you''ll need to be, if you''re going to survive theing storms." My mind wander</em><em>ed back to the child at the 188, and his cryptic message about the NCR and Legion...</em>


    <em>"The Bull and Bear over the dam... A storm of blood will flood the desert, not purify it..." I said, trying to repeat what I could remember of what he''d said. Benny smiled and shook his head slightly.</em>


    <em>"That''s just the inevitable storm. The one you can''t stop. But there are more than two yers at the table... all cing bets... all will lose in different ways. All of them will try and use you to further their own ends. And there are so many more storms on their way..."</em>


    <em>As Benny spoke, thunder boomed over our heads. Lightning lit up the sky, and the clouds started to slowly change color. The sea of clouds churned, and the sky turned a deep, blood red. There was another boom of thunder, this time loud enough to cause the ground beneath me to shake... wait, no... that wasn''t thunder.</em>


    <em>Before I knew what was happening, the sand beneath my feet shifted, and the very ground started to fall away - or was the ground beneath my feet rising? Either way, I nearly lost my bnce, but steadied myself, and I soon found myself standing in the middle of a hexagonal tform. Benny was standing on a simr hexagon several feet away, and I could see that it was a massive prism-shaped pir, made out of a metal I didn''t recognize. On the side, I could just barely make out some writing inrge, white block letters: "X-66"</em>


    <em>Without warning, the thunder stopped, but I could still see lightning - shes of bright blue lightning arcing below me in the darkness. The blood red clouds continued to boil, but empty patches were emerging, revealing a sky filled with stars, and a full moon hanging directly overhead. From behind the mountains all around us, I saw points of light emerge that I thought were stars at first... but then they gotrger, and closer, and started to stretch themselves out. In an instant, spears of fire rocketed directly overhead, many of them pushing aside the blood clouds, leaving streaks of fiery ck smoke in their wake. One of them flew perilously close to Benny and myself, and I ducked out of reflex. I was able to look up just in time, however, to see what it was: an old world ICBM, tipped with a nuclear warhead, and emzoned on the side with an image of the g of the United States.</em>


    <em>More missiles and </em>rockets streaked and crisscrossed around the night sky... there was no end to them. They just kepting. And that was when I realized the clouds had parted enough to make the moon entirely visible... and something was happening. It started off as just a few, but after only <em>a few seconds I saw hundreds... thousands... maybe even millions of lights, all moving away from the moon and towards the Earth. It looked like the moon was ripping itself apart</em><em>, big chunks breaking</em><em> off and falling away. Before I could figure out what it all meant, there was a blinding sh, unlike anything I''d ever seen before. I want to say that it looked like the sun rising, but it was so much brighter than the sun... it felt like my eyes were being burned away. The noise was so great to go along with the sh, I nearly went deaf. Waves of immense heat and wind washed over me, ripping at my skin and threatening to blow me off the hexagonal prism of metal.</em>


    <em>When my vision returned, all I could see was fire... and Benny. He was still standing there, still smoking, but he was silhouetted from behind by the unmistakable sight of a mushroom cloud. The cloud was still on fire as it continued upward and outward, growing everrger, consuming everything in its path. I had never seen an actual nuclear detonation before. I''d only ever read descriptions, or seen pictures and grainy video from old holotapes, but... it just couldn''tpare. It was absolutely the most terrifying, the most horrific, and the most... overwhelming thing I''d ever seen...</em>


    <em>"All of these storms are on their way, Sheason," Benny said atst, apparently not bothered at all by the nuclear warhead that had just detonated behind him. "And the question remains - will you possess the strength to stem the tide, when the timees?"</em>


    My eyes cracked open. Everything was hazy, but I realized right away that I wasn''t dreaming any longer. It was still mostly dark; out of the corner of my eyes, I could see just the tiniest bit of light, but it was the sort of light that was only enough to make you realize you couldn''t actually see. I felt a hand on my shoulder, trying to shake me awake.


    "Sheason," I heard Boone''s voice through the fog. "Sheason, get up." It took me a few seconds to get my bearings - I was sitting in the drivers seat of my car, which made sense, since that''s where I''d fallen asleep.


    "Whu- huh?" I tried to force myself awake - and it suddenly became a lot easier. My vision cleared enough for me to see a gas mask with glowing green lenses staring at me from beneath abat helmet. Boone was in fullbat armor - something was very wrong.


    "Something''s wrong," he said, mirroring my thoughts. "Got a grouping our way. Looks like a Legion raiding party." If seeing Boone in full kit was like a ssh of water on my face, that was like punch in the side of the head. I grabbed Roscoe and That Gun, which had been sitting on the passenger seat, and checked them both to make sure they were loaded while I practically leapt out of the car.


    "It''s big," Boone continued, taking a few steps towards Coyote Tail ridge. "Might be too big. Even for us." Boone didn''t sound worried... or surprised in the least. He sort of sounded at peace with the idea of a pack of Legion raiders too big for us to handle. He turned back to me, his rifle at the ready. "If you want out, I won''t me you. But I''m going to stay. See if I can hold them off."


    "Let me put it to you like this," I popped the lid on my trunk and pulled out Pinpoint, the hunting rifle I''d bought from the Gun Runnersst week, along with a few spare ammo magazines. Boone made a satisfied "Hurm," noise at that. I checked the rifle to make sure it was loaded. "You don''t sound surprised about this." Boone shook his head.


    "I''m not. Always figured this was how it was gonna end for me. Just didn''t know when. That night you showed up in Novac... I had a feeling I was supposed to go with you. That it was time to end all this. And now I know..." That clinched it, then. Boone thought tonight was the night he was going to die. After hearing about his past, I couldn''t really me him... but even so, I tried to steer him away from that topic of conversation.


    "So, why would theye to Bitter Springs?"


    "Easy target for grabbing ves," Boone said matter-of-factly. "Lots of disced refugees no one will miss, token resistance as defense. I don''t think they''re here for us, if that''s what you''re getting at." He looked off in the distance, and I tried to follow his gaze; heading toward us, at a rather disquieting pace, were about two dozen points of lights in the darkness. "Too bad. Would''ve made me feel better if they were."


    "If nothing else, it saves us the trouble of finding them," I said. Boone actuallyughed at that. Just once, but it was still augh.


    "If only it was this easy all the time."


    "So, what are we waiting for?" As if in response, Boone moved off and started running up the path towards Bitter Springs. I followed suit, with ED-E floating behind me. When we finally got to the entrance of the camp, the lights were still dimly lit, and I still didn''t see anyone awake. I didn''t even see any NCR troops around. Off in the distance, I heard dogs - or it could have been wolves - start barking. The lights off in the distance were getting closer.


    "I''ll start thinning them out," I said, chambering a round into Pinpoint, kneeling down, and looking through the rifle''s scope. "Give you time to find the best perch." I didn''t hear a response from Boone; it''s entirely possible he had already left by the time I started speaking. Looking through the crosshairs, I could see the first of the Legion troopse into view: it was a group of four troopers and two mangy dogs running up the path towards the camp. These Legionnaires were wearing sports equipment, unlike the troops at Caesar''s Fort.


    I exhaled slowly, and calmly slipped into V.A.T.S.


    Through the scope, I watched as the Legion troops fell each time I pulled the trigger. One by one, they tumbled backwards before they even got close. The shots from Pinpoint were muffled, but notpletely silent. Then again, ED-E zooming along overhead, stingsers at the iing dogs probably wasn''t subtle either. And then I heard the unmistakable boom of Boone''s sniper rifle.


    With thest bullet of Pinpoint''s first magazine, I killed a Legionnaire carrying one of the torches, so I pulled it out and looked around as I reached for a fresh mag. What I saw off to my left was surprising however - Boone was walking towards the Legion troops, firing with his massive gun as he made his way down the hill.


    I reloaded as quickly as possible, but a ricocheting bullet impacted the ground near my feet. That''s my warning that I''m not moving enough. So I ran to a decent piece of cover, reloading as I went. When I was finally able to look down the scope again, I couldn''t see any more Legion troops armed only with machetes; now they were starting to shoot back.


    Three more V.A.T.S. shots, and three more Legion troops fell. I looked away from the scope again, to get a better idea of how we were doing. ED-E was sting away, drawing quite a lot of fire but none of the Legion''s shots even seemed to be affecting the robot. Boone on the other hand...


    He''d closed with a group of Legion troops; all but one of them were dead, and Boone had abandoned his rifle and was locked in a dangerous melee with thest remaining Legionnaire. Closing fast on him, however, I could see two of the Legion mongrels prowling around and getting ready to nk him.


    I swung the rifle around, and carefully took aim through the scope. V.A.T.S. was informing me through my ear that my action points had been depleted, so I had no help with this one. The dog closest to me reared back, readying to leap at Boone; I led the rifle, trying to anticipate where it was going to be, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. There was a muffled bang, the dog leapt, and half a secondter it was knocked off course and smashed its face against the ground.


    I tried to find the next dog, and my scope fell on Boone; he was too busy smashing the forehead of his helmet into the face of the Legionnaire to notice the dog perched on the rocks above him, ready to pounce. Another muffled bang, and the rocks behind the mongrel were hit with ssh of red. I turned my attention back to Boone; he''d finally dispatched the Legion soldier by shoving a bowie knife in his neck.


    I heard the sounds of boots tromping against the ground, getting closer. I nced at the Pip Boy''s radar, and several red pips were closing on my position, fast. That was when I realized: my current position was both very good and potentially very bad. On the one hand, because of the terrain they could only reallye at me from one way, so I couldn''t get nked. On the minus side, I was backed up into a corner, which meant I wouldn''t be able to run if things went tits up. I hoped I had enough ammo left... because the fight had just switched from turkey shoot, to fight or die.


    I swung the rifle around towards the direction of the red pips on my radar, and braced myself for iing Legion. The first of them came from around a rocky outcrop; he was carrying a hunting shotgun, and started leveling it as soon as he saw me. Time slowed for just a moment as I let V.A.T.S. take over. I squeezed the trigger, and the Legion soldier fell backwards, a small burst of blood erupting from his neck.


    I pulled the bolt back, and tried to push it back in ce, but it was frozen solid. It made sense - even with the best bolt action rifles, you fire it constantly and the heat will make the gun jam. I still swore though.


    Another Legionnaire was running towards me with a 10mm submachine gun, so I had to act fast. I dropped Pinpoint and grabbed Roscoe from its holster on my hip and popped off as many shots as I could right at his chest. When he fell, he caused the Legionnaire behind him to stumble long enough for me tond a lucky shot right in the middle of his forehead.


    There was a gnashing, snarling sound, and before I realized what was going on, a blurry mass of fur, ws and teeth leaped over the still falling Legion soldier and directly at me. As quickly as I could, I tried to dodge out of the way, but I wasn''t quite fast enough, and I felt the dog''s ws tear through my jeans and sh across my right leg. It was close enough to be in striking distance, though, so I punched it as hard as I could in the side of its head with my left fist. It staggered backwards long enough for me to aim with Roscoe and pull the trigger.


    I looked up again, and one more Legion soldier - this one wearing a helmet topped with a crest of long, ck feathers and carrying a lever action rifle - was bearing down on me. I tried to use V.A.T.S., but as I leveled Roscoe I heard a voice in my ear inform me: "Unable to perform action; please reload weapon before using V.A.T.S." I had to think fast, so I reared back with the hand holding Roscoe, pushed and held the magazine release button, and pushed the butt of my pistol towards Legionnaire as hard as I could. The magazine flew out of the bottom of the pistol, and hit the soldier in the middle of his face. There was a cracking sound in the air and he dropped the rifle to clutch at his face; I couldn''t tell if the lens on his goggles cracked, of if it was his nose. Honestly, I didn''t really care. I pulled That Gun out of the back of my trousers with my left hand and fired, practically point nk.


    I was hoping that was the end of it, but of course, I wasn''t that lucky. From the top of one of the rocks that kept theming at me from the same direction, another one of the Legion mongrels leapt down towards me before I could get out of the way. The dog hit me in the chest and knocked me off my feet; my grip on Roscoe loosened, and I could feel the dog tearing at my shoulders, trying to rip its way through my leather jacket. With my newly freed hand, I reached up as quick as I could and grabbed at the dogs neck to keep him from ripping my head to bits; just in time, too, because the dogs muzzle stopped inches from my face. All I saw was a mass of teeth, as I tried to ignore all the spittle flying into my vision and the rank smell of hot breath sting into my nose. I buried the barrel of That Gun deep into the gut of the dog and pulled the trigger as many times as I could. The dog whined and stopped struggling. I shoved the mutt off of me, pushing it with all my strength, and, very slowly, got back on my feet.


    For a minute or two, the only thing I could hear was my own heavy breathing echoing in my ears. But then, very softly, I heard victorious marching music wafting from an eyebot''s speaker grille. I looked up, and there was ED-E, who let off one finalser st before quieting down and hovering closer to head height. I picked up Roscoe and Pinpoint, and slowly walked over the dead Legion troops and dogs, and out in the open. I didn''t see any more Legion troops heading up towards Bitter Springs... just a lot of bodies. I finally started to hear shouting from people within the camp, but no rms and no more gunshots. The sun was just now starting to peer over the mountains to the East.


    A few dozen yards away, Boone was standing amid a pile of bodies, and even from my distance I could see him breathing heavily and looking around at the dead Legion around him. So I slowly made my way towards him.


    "I think we''re clear," I said. When I got closer, I saw that the sleeve of his duster on the inside of his arm was slightly torn, and I could see flecks of fresh blood. "You''re hit. You''re bleedin'', man," I said, stating the obvious. "You alright?"


    "Yeah... I''m..." Boone continued to look around at the bodies. I didn''t know if he was just looking at the corpses, or looking for his rifle. "No, I''m not.." He paused for a minute, and then started to shake his head. He reached up, I heard a sp snap open, and he took off his helmet, dropping it at his feet. He opened his eyes and ran a gloved hand over his buzzed hair.


    "We made it through. Not sure what to make of that..." He didn''t sound or look angry, or relieved, or any of the emotions I might have expected from him. He just seemed... almost confused is probably the best word.


    "C''mon man. You underestimated us. We''re a couple of grade-A badasses, and this just proves it," I said. ED-E beeped a few times behind me, seemingly in agreement.


    "Yeah... Guess I did. I figured whatever we could handle, this time the Legion was going to send more." Boone looked up at me, for the first time since I''d met him without his sses. There was one overwhelming emotion that escaped through his eyes: sheer, utter exhaustion. "I should have died here a long time ago. When I spotted the Legionaries... I thought I finally understood. Things were finally going to even out. I could feel the ending. I was ready for it." I stepped forward, ready to try and talk some sense into him, when Boone just dropped to his knees and hung his head. "But I''m still here. Nothing''s changed... and I''m still waiting."


    "Listen, Boone," I knelt down, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "No one is judging you or punishing you. Especially since it wasn''t your fault. Things just... happen," As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Things just happen? What kind of pathetic line was that?


    "If that''s how it is, there''s not a lot offort in knowing it," Boone just kept slowly shaking his head, staring down without really looking at anything. "I just... I don''t know what I''m supposed to do about all this."


    "Boone, I want you to really listen to me. You can''t take back what you''ve done, I know that. You know that. But sometimes..." I tried to think of something that might help in some way. "Sometimes your regrets can set you on a better path. I mean... your regrets brought us here, didn''t they?"


    "I..." Boone''s expression softened, for the first time since I''d met him. "I guess they did. One less Legion raiding party running loose now... and that''s never a bad thing. Still... I don''t know, it still feels like I''m living on borrowed time." Boone reached out, and took hold of his dropped helmet, turning it over in his hands until he was looking at his reflection in the green lenses. And suddenly... he no longer looked confused.


    "You know what?" He finally said. "Now I''m thinking about it... I don''t see any reason not to take a lot more of those sons of bitches with me."


    "It''s not your time yet, Boone. It''s up to you to decide what you want to do with the time you have left." He nodded in agreement.


    "You got a point. There are still some things I can do before all this is over."


    "There''s plenty you can do still. Now c''mon, let''s get that arm of yours cleaned up," I said, encouraging him to get up. He looked up, towards the East, and my gaze followed his; he was looking at the rising sun. "It''s the dawn of a new day."


    "You got that right."

 Chapter 28: Dog Days

    Chapter 28: Dog Days


    <em>Good morning listeners, and wee back to the Mr. New Vegas show on Radio New Vegas. It looks like it''s going to be another beautiful day in the Mojave Wastnd. Partly cloudy skies, with highs of 80, and lows hovering around 69. A word of warning for anyone travelling along the Long 15 south of Primm and the Nipton Highway: reports of sandstorms spilling over from the Divide thest few days have increased with no signs of letting up, so be sure to wear goggles and air filters if you''ve got them. Got more ssicsing to you over the airwaves, so stay tuned.</em>


    Boone and I left Bitter Springs before any of the NCR troops - the few that were there - could check to see what all the yelling and gunshots and generalmotion had been about. Were they confused by the three dozen or so Legion bodies and dead dogs surrounding the camp, and the blue Corvega speeding away back to New Vegas?


    Maybe. Frankly, I didn''t care. At the moment, all I wanted to do was to just get back to the Lucky 38, and get at least one or two more hours of sleep before going back to see The King.


    Of course, if I''d had my way, we wouldn''t have left Bitter Springs as fast as we did. I suggested to Boone that we see if there was a doctor in the camp - or, at the very least, use the first aid kit in my trunk before setting off again. But Boone would have none of it. He didn''t want to deal with any of the NCR troops. Too much paperwork, apparently.


    So, in the end, wepromised. I was driving the two of us back to Vegas, with ED-E flying alongside, while Boone was in the backseat, trying to administer first aid on himself with a pair of tweezers, a roll of cloth bandages, a pair of scissors, and a couple stimpacks.


    "You''re cleaning that up," I said, really only half joking as I nced back at him. Boone just chuckled. He was making an absolute mess. The wound on his arm apparently had been a ricochet from a bullet that bounced off his chest te, and it really only amounted to a graze. But he still had to pull a few chunks of metal out of his arm before using a stimpack, and he was bleeding everywhere.


    When we eventually reached the Lucky 38, the adrenaline that had kept me going since the fighting started had finally worn off. I''m just d it hadn''t evaporated while I was still driving. Waking up to find my car had been put in a ditch because I fell asleep at the wheel would not have been how I wanted to spend a Saturday. I was absolutely exhausted. Even Boone looked tired, and that''s saying a lot.


    The elevator eventually dinged and, thankfully, no one was there to greet me as the two of us exited into the suite.


    "I need a shower. And sleep," Boone said, scratching at the dressing he''d wrapped around his wounded arm. At the time, I''d wondered why he''d bothered with a bandage, since the stimpack should''ve healed the wound overpletely. It made much more sense now.


    "Yeah... no offense man, but you look like you need it," I said, trying to keep my eyes open a while longer. "You look like you''ve been fighting a bear or something."


    "Or a bull," It looked like Boone tried to grin, but it ended up being more like a grimace. It took me a second for my exhausted brain to get that, and the two of us chuckled half-heartedly.


    "I''ll see you in the morning," I shuffled towards my room, and Boone headed for the shower.


    "It is morning," he said simply. I just sighed.


    "Ugh... you know what I mean," And with that, I shut the door behind me.


    I didn''t even make it to the bed before I copsed.


    Next thing I knew, I was coughing myself awake, trying to get the taste of 200 year old carpet out of my mouth.


    It took me a minute to get my bearings... and the first thing I did was breathe a sigh of relief. I hadn''t had another nightmare, which made me feel all kinds of grateful. They were really starting to get on my nerves, with how often they were happening. Second thing I did was check the time: a little after 10:30 in the morning. Which means I did get a little sleep. Just.


    I entered the hallway of the suite, closing my bedroom door behind me and still trying to wake up. I heard another softer click of a door from across the hall opening up. It was the door to Veronica''s room... but Cass was the one who walked out.


    That woke me up pretty quick.


    She wasn''t wearing her hat or her leather jacket, and she was looking down, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. She looked up, saw me, and froze. I did my best to hold back a smile. I''m pretty sure I failed miserably. Cass'' face flushed immediately, and her cheeks turned very nearly the same shade as her hair.


    "Morning," I said breaking the silence.


    "Uh... hey," was her response, along with hastily doing up a few more buttons. I could''ve been mistaken, but it looked like she buttoned it up slightly higher than she usually did. I could barely see the pendant around her neck.


    "Have funst night?" I asked, smirking a little.


    "I.. er.. uh..." Cass cleared her throat, licked her lips, and put on her best poker face. "Yep. I did."


    "Well. d somebody had funst night, at least. My night consisted of violence against the Legion with Boone. I''d be prepared to bet that you had a better time than I did. I was gonna say you probably got more sleep, but..." I just shed a grin and chuckled. Cass'' poker face evaporated immediately, and she sort of blinked, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.


    "Uh... are ya... I mean... yer not..." She sort of trailed off a bit, and ran a hand through her untied red hair. She looked a little embarrassed. For some reason.


    "I''m not what?" I asked. Part of me wanted to think that... but no, that couldn''t be what was going on. There were too many things going on for THAT to be the case. I mean, for one thing, she and Veronica had quite obviously just gotten together. So, no sense thinking THAT was the reason she was embarrassed. For another, I wasn''t fully awake yet. I was probably just picking up on some physical cues or bodynguage that weren''t actually there. Plus, I did recall something she''d said the day I met her: <em>"</em><em>Just so we''re clear, nothin''  an I do mean nothin''  is ever gonna happen ''tween us. You''d best respect that."</em>


    And you know, that seemed pretty unequivocal at the time.


    "I- I jus''..." Cass sighed and shook her head. "Nev''rmind. I''m gonna get some coffee," And with that, she walked past me into the kitchen. I just shrugged, and pushed the button to call the elevator.


    "Well. That was awkward."


    "Hey, Courier," Vince was leaning against the front door of The Kings'' ce and smoking when I rocked up. "You lookin'' for The King, man?" I nodded.


    "Yeah, he said he wanted to see me again. He in?"


    "I think so," He tossed his cigarette aside, and led me inside. The lobby had several more empty bottles of booze scattered around than I remembered... Vince leaped over the counter, ducked behind it, and pulled out a few beers, one of which he slid across the counter in my direction. "Grab a drink, make yourselffortable. I''m gonna go find The King, it shouldn''t be too long."


    As it happened, I didn''t have to wait any time at all; The King walked in from the door on the opposite wall. He was wearing a pair of ck trousers, a ck jacket, and a red cored shirt that was only mostly buttoned.


    "Hey Vince," The King and Vince greeted each other with someplicated looking hand gestures - some kind of secret handshake, I guess - and Vince handed him a beer. "What''s the haps, man?"


    "That Courier''s here to see you, boss." The King turned to me and smiled, grasping my hand and attempting that same handshake... thing. I''ll be honest, I couldn''t really follow it, and I''m pretty sure I screwed it up.


    "Hey, Sheason. C''mon, have a beer," He nodded to Vince, who tossed The King a bottle. "Hell of a partyst night, wasn''t it?" He tried handing me the beer, but I shook my head and waved it off.


    "Actually, I''m here to talk business. Didn''t you sayst night you had something you wanted to talk to me about?"


    "That''s right!" He said, snapping his fingers. "Thank you, I''d nearly forgotten." And then, without warning, he let loose an ear-splittingly shrill whistle. Even Vince seemed to flinch at the sound. The King, meanwhile, kept talking like nothing had happened. "There''s onest thing I wanted you to do. You know my dog, Rex?"


    "I''ve noticed him, yes," I said, nodding.


    "Well, thing is, he''s been acting peculiar for some time now. I thought he might be sick, so I took him to the Followers..."


    "Wait, hang on," I interrupted. "How can he get sick? Isn''t he like a robot, or something?"


    "It''s not sick like the flu or nothin''," The King exined. "The doctors said his brain is bad... or, something. Thing is, they couldn''t really do anything, because they don''t have the tools to help him."


    That sounds familiar, I thought. At that moment, the cybeic German Shepherd bounded into the room, his arrival preceded by the sound of metal hitting wooden floorboards. The King kneeled down when Rex entered, and scratched his dog behind the ears; Rex nuzzled into his hand and whined affectionately.


    "There''s m''boy! Who''s a good boy? That''s right, you are!" He continued scratching his dog, but turned his attention back to me. "Anyway, thing of it is, I''d almost given up hope that Rexie would ever get better. Then, a couple of days ago, Julie found me and said she''d been looking into this in her spare time. Turns out, she got wind of a man who might be able to help - some kind of old scientist called Doc Henry or some such, living up north in Jacobstown."


    "Jacobstown?" I asked, looking at my Pip Boy and bringing up the map. "I''ve never heard of that ce."


    "It''s up in mountains. Peak of Mt. Charleston, I think. Just take highway 95 north till you hit Kyle Canyon road." I thought about that, and looked it up on the map. Kyle Canyon road was another name for state route 157, and the turnoff to that was a few miles south of the sacked caravan Cass and I had visited about a week earlier.


    "Ok..." I turned off my Pip Boy and nodded. "So, what does this have to do with me?"


    "Well, y''see, the reason I wanted your help was because I needed to make sure I could trust you. There''s too much going on around here for me to make a trip like that, and I need all of my guys just to keep things settled in Freeside - especially now things with the NCR have changed."


    "So, basically... you want me to take your dog to the vet?" I deadpanned. The King stood up, and looked me straight in the face, the most serious I''d ever seen him.


    "Now hang on a minute. Rex here isn''t just a dog. Rex and I have been through a lot together - almost as much as I''ve been through with Pace, and I''ve known him since we were kids. Rex is a friend - a good and loyalpanion, and he''s stayed by my side for years. Hell, he''s probably older than I am."


    "Seriously?" I asked. The King nodded.


    "Oh yeah! One of the times I had Julie take a look at him, she said that some of his cybeic parts were made in Denver."


    "Denver? Don''t you mean Dog Town?" I asked. I''d heard stories of Dog Town, an abandoned city of empty skyscrapers, packs of rabid and feral dogs, and radioactive sandstorms. I couldn''t imagine anything being made there. The King just shook his head.


    "No, I mean Denver. Julie said he was in a K-9 unit for the Denver police before the war."


    I looked down at Rex, not knowing what to think after that little tidbit of trivia. Rex had been watching The King this whole time, panting with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, but when I looked at him, he looked back at me and shut his muzzle. Rex cocked his head to the side, and made a funny sort of noise, that made it sound like he was confused.


    "If it''s true, and he really is that old," The King patted Rex right behind the dog''s brain case. "Then it''d be one hell of a shame for him to go out because of something pitiful." Slowly, I started to nod in agreement.


    "Alright. I''ll take him to see this Doc Henry. I''ll make sure he gets better." The King''s eyes lit up like a little kid, and he kneeled back down.


    "Did ya hear that Rexie? You''re finally gonna get better!" Rex seemed to understand, because he barked loudly, and started licking The King''s face. "Ah-ha-ha, stop it boy! Ah, I can''t thank you enough for this, Sheason."


    "Don''t mention it," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "Is there anything I need to know before Rex and I set off?"


    "Just a few things," The King nodded, getting up and leaning against the counter. "First, he hates rats. Can''t stand the damn things. Giant rats, molerats, doesn''t matter. He catches a whiff of one and he''ll be off like a shot after them. Normally, he''s pretty obedient, but you might have to chase him some if he goes after one of the little varmints."


    "Sounds easy enough," I nodded. "Anything else?"


    "Second, he doesn''t like hats or the people wearing them."


    The lobby was deathly silent as I tried to make sense of this information.


    "Wait, wh-" The King just shook his head and shrugged.


    "Don''t ask. I have no idea why. Maybe because it rhymes with ''rats'' or something like that. But that should be it, though. Other than the asional bad spot when his brain starts hurting him, that is. But I''m hoping you''ll see to that."


    "I''ll do my best." I said. The King looked down, and Rex seemed to pay attention as he spoke.


    "Now Rex, Sheason here''s gonna take you to a man who''ll help get you fixed up. I want you to pay attention to him and follow him, alright? Think you can do that boy?" Rex whimpered, and pawed at The King with one of his front paws. "I know, I''m gonna miss you too, but it''ll only be for a few days, I''m sure." The King looked back up to me. "Take care of my Rex now, y''hear?"


    "Don''t worry about it, I''ll take care of him," I said. "C''mon Rex. Let''s get you fixed up." Rex seemed to bark in agreement, and fell in step beside me as I walked towards the door. Before I quite got to the door, I heard a voice from behind me that made me stop in my tracks.


    "Hey, King?" It was a simr sort ofzy drawl like The King, but unmistakably feminine. I turned around (as did Rex, interestingly enough), and saw a very busty blonde girl wearing... lets be honest, not much, leaning against the door frame. "Are you gonna c''mon back upstairs soon? Shelly an'' I are gettin'' bored..." The King chuckled a little, and gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.


    "Don''t you worry yer silly little head ''bout nothin'' doll, I''ll be back in a bit. I''ve just got a bit more business down here to take care of first. Now g''wan, get outta here." He winked at her and she turned to leave - but right before she did, he swatted her ass. The King just chuckled, and he and Vince bumped fists.


    I looked down to Rex by my side, and I could swear the dog was shaking his head.


    When Rex and I got back to the Lucky 38 and the elevator doors opened to the suite, I could hear the sounds of food and people eatinging from the kitchen. I took one step, and suddenly a blur of brown cloth filled my vision, dancing and spinning around me.


    "Hello, Veronica," I said, and the brown blur slowed down and shed a wide smile at me. "You''re looking extraordinarily chipper today." I wonder why, I thought with a thick veneer of sarcasm.


    "I had a good night," She positively beamed. "I have never been more happy to be SO wrong!" With that, she spun once more in ce, and practically glided into the kitchen... and then popped her head out the door again. "Hang on a sec, isn''t that The King''s dog?"


    "It is," I said, walking past her into the kitchen. "I actually wanted to talk to you guys about him."


    As soon as I walked into the kitchen, I was hit in the face with an unexpected breeze; all the windows in the kitchen were open. Cass, Boone, and Arcade were all sitting around the table, eating lunch; Cass was digging into a bowl of some kind of stew and a bottle of whiskey, Boone was tearing into a massive b of red meat and a bottle of beer, and Arcade had half of some kind of casserole and a ss of wine in front of him. Veronica sat down in the empty chair next to Cass, scooted her chair rather close to the whiskey drinking cowgirl, and started eating some of the meat kebabs in front of her. I wasn''t really interested in any food at the moment, so I reached into the fridge and grabbed a Nuka C.


    "I''m d you''re all here," I said, leaning against the front of the fridge. "I actually had something to tell you guys."


    "Isn''t that The King''s dog?" Arcade asked, pointing at Rex with his fork, before taking another bite of casserole.


    "Yes he is, and I was actually just getting to that." I shook my head and took a drink. "The King hired me for a job, and I was probably going to be gone for a couple of days, unless you guys wanted toe with."


    "So what''s th'' job?" Cass asked, taking a swig of whiskey. I heard a strange growling at my heels, and realized that Rex was hunched over and alternating between scowling (as much as a dog could scowl, anyway) at Cass and Boone. It took me a minute to make the connection. I scratched him behind the ears like The King had done, and that seemed to calm him down a bit.


    "Rex here is sick, and The King wants me to take him to a doctor who might be able to fix his brain. Problem is, the doctor apparently lives up in the mountains, in some ce called Jacobstown." Arcade set down his fork and his eyes went wide.


    "Doctor Henry?" Arcade asked rather loudly, a slight edge to his voice. He looked around, and realized that everyone - even Rex - was staring at him. "What?"


    "Okay, I''ll bite," I asked, taking another drink of Nuka. "What is it about this Doc Henry that''s got you so spooked?"


    "I''m not spooked, I just..." Arcade cleared his throat. "Henry''s an old colleague of mine. He''s the man who first started teaching me about medicine. I just... I never thought I''d hear from him again, that''s all." usible enough, I thought. But there was something about his reaction and his exnation that was scratching at the back of my mind and just not sitting right with me.


    "Alright, whatever. Keep your secrets. Does that mean you''re interested ining at least?" Arcade nodded.


    "Yeah... it''ll be nice to see him again."


    "I''m game," Boone spoke up, taking another bite of steak.


    "Sounds fun," Cass took another swig of whiskey. "Nev''r been up ta Jacobstown ''fore."


    "You know," Veronica cast a quick nce at Cass to her left and smiled. "I was gonna run some errands, do some collecting... but I think it can wait. Count me in!"


    I took a look around the table, at my four friends, all of whom were going to eventually pile into my five-seater car with me... and then I looked down at Rex, who was looking back up at me expectantly, and I realized just how much space a German Shepherd with cybeic parts was going to take up in my car.


    While most of mypanions were getting ready for a trip into the mountains, I was trying to find Cass. Eventually, I found her on the balcony that ringed the suite, looking out over the vista of New Vegas and the wastnd beyond the wall, sk in hand.


    "Hey Cass." She jumped a little at my voice, but sighed when she realized it was me. "Got a minute?"


    "Uh... yeah, sure," she leant against the balcony and took another drink. I stopped next to her and leant on the railing myself.


    "So," I finally asked her. "What''s the deal with you and Veronica?"


    "Oh, fuck man, I don''t even know," Cass ran her fingers through her hair, knocking her hat back a bit. "So,st night I had a few drinks, yeah?"


    "I noticed," I nodded with a smirk. "She did too, if I recall."


    "Right. Well, I got to talkin'' with V, an'' one thing led t''another, next thing I know I woke up with my face buried in her chest!"


    "Nice," I held back the urge to give her a high five.


    "Yeah, it was... but..." she trailed off and took another swig from her sk.


    "So what''s the problem?"


    "Th'' problem is... well, I''m just... See, I was just lookin'' t''have a little funst night, right? But I have this nasty feelin'' that it was more''n just a bit''ve fun for her, y''know?"


    "Ah," I nodded, finally understanding. "Yeah, I kind of picked up on that when I got back earlier." Saying that made Cass look a little worried.


    "She''s not callin'' me her girlfriend already, is she?"


    "Just about." The image of Veronica dancing with joy shed across my short-term memory. Cass, on the other hand, just grimaced.


    "Fuck!"


    "Hang on, I''m confused. How is this a bad thing?" I asked. "I mean, no offense or anything, but I''m not sure I see why you''re freaking out here. Isn''t Veronica kind of perky and bubbly and awesome?" Cass turned and looked at me like I''d suddenly grown a second head.


    "Dude. Have you been payin'' attention?"


    "I do try my best to pay attention, yes. Why?"


    "Then ya should''ve figured by now - I''m not really ''rtionship'' material! I''m not th'' type t''settle down''r get hitched''r nothin''. I mean, I''m fine with a little fuckin, here''n there every once in a while if it''s just a bit''ve fun, but not if it''s gonna turn into somethin''..." Cass sighed, and gulped audibly. "... serious."


    "I think you''re making a bigger deal of this than it needs to be. If that''s how things are gonna be, then I think the best thing you should do is tell her what''s going on." Rather than looking relieved, Cass just looked even more nervous. I just sighed. "Okay, what''s the other problem?"


    "The problem is... well, y''were right earlier ''bout V bein'' awesome. She''s really nice, an'' fun t''be ''round, an'' really fuckin'' hot, an'' I''m just... she''s been through a lot th''st few years..." For some reason, words shed across my mind: <em>With regretes a girl smiling sad... half here, half there... wraps her and her heart up like a pack...</em>


    "I... I don''t want her t''get hurt, y''know?" Cass continued. "I want to let her down soft, but... well fuck, you know how hard I can be t''deal with sometimes."


    "Only when you''re drinking," I said with a shrug. She furrowed her brow, thinking about that for a minute.


    "I''m always drinkin''."


    "Exactly."


    "Fuck you," She let out a half hearted chuckle - and punched me in the arm. "Look, point is, I know if I just out-n-out tell her, I''m gonna fuck somethin'' up, an'' she''s gonna get hurt. Things''ll get messy."


    "Yeah... that''s the problem with rtionships... sometimes they hurt more than bullets. And you can''t heal the scars you get from rtionships with stimpacks or trips to the doctor. Some scars stay with you, and you can''t get rid of them, no matter how hard you try."


    I did my best to fight down images of the raven haired woman from my past... But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn''t quite get her vibrant green eyes and soft, smiling lips or her infectiousugh out of my head. I tried to shake it off, but it didn''t really work. Luckily, Cass was on hand to help further distract me.


    "Man, fuckin'' is great, but feelings are stupid."


    "Eloquent, as always," I said. She just shook her head.


    "Why d''we have t''have stupid feelings and emotions?"


    "Because emotions are what make us human. Yeah, sometimes they hurt. Sometimes our emotions can even destroy us... but without emotions we wouldn''t feel joy, or triumph, or hope, or... love. Without the ability to feel, life would just be empty and hollow. Emotions are the things that define who we are, and they can make life stupid and brilliant and messy and... wonderful."


    There was a very long silence, and the only thing I could hear was the sound of the wind rushing through my hair. Finally, I looked back to Cass, and realized that she''d been staring at me like I''d grown another head... again.


    "What?" I asked.


    "You know, I never know what th'' fuck I''m gonna get when I deal with you," she said matter of factly.


    "What do you mean?"


    "Well, fuck man, think ''bout it - sometime''s y''act like a goddamn moron, like ya can''t see yer fuckin'' hands in front''ve yer face, an'' other times you pull some serious old world philosopher type shit outta yer ass, like jus'' then! You are seriously some kind of idiot savant or something." I admit, I didugh at that. But I shook it off quickly.


    "Look, back to the point - what are you gonna do about this? Eventually you''re going to have to tell her that you''re not looking for a seriousmitted rtionship."


    "Not necessarily! I figure, if I just keep actin'' like myself fer long ''nuff, she''ll figure out that I''m a shitty girlfriend, and that''ll be that." She forced a smile, almost like she was trying to convince herself.


    "That''s not a solution. You know that, right?"


    "Maybe not," Cass shrugged. "But it might give me ''nuff time t''think of somethin'' better."


    "Do you think this''ll cause problems in the short term - say, for instance, the five of us and a halfway-cybeic German Shepherd piled into my car and heading to Jacobstown?" I asked. She shook her head.


    "Nah... I think things''ll be cool. For a while, ''tleast..."


    There was a very long pause where both of us just leaned on the railing, looking out over Vegas. Neither of us said a word. And then...


    "Yer real easy t'' talk to. I don'' usually open up ''bout... problems like this. To any''ne." I just chuckled under my breath, and patted her on the shoulder.


    "Thanks for saying that. What else are friends for, right?"


    "Yeah... friends..." Again, she looked out across Vegas in silence.


    And then...


    "Will say this ''bout V - the sex is fuckin'' fantastic!"


    "Is it now?" Like before, I did my best to hold back a smile. I''m pretty sure I failed miserably. Of course, instead of her face flush with embarrassment like before, she just broke out into a wide grin.


    "Oh man, you got no fuckin'' idea! An'' th'' best part? She''s got th'' most gorgeous pair''ve tits in the goddamn world!" I''m not sure she realized she was doing it, but she started groping a pair of invisible breasts in front of her, and I did my damndest not to just bust upughing hysterically right there. "I mean, y''can''t really tell ''neath all that armor, but they''re fuckin'' huge! They''re just, like, these two big, soft, squishy pillows that I c''n jus'' bury my face in fer days and just be lost!"


    "You know, I think I can see why Veronica likes you now." Cass broke out of her trance, and looked at me questioningly, so I continued. "Your enthusiasm about her chest is positively intoxicating."


    At that precise moment in the city below, the people walking around Vegas began to question where the loud and absolutely raucousughter they were suddenly hearing wasing from.


    11

 Chapter 29: Jacobstown

    Chapter 29: Jacobstown


    <em>That was Danny Kaye and the Andrews Sisters, crooning about "Civilization." You know, sometimes the wastnd can get you down. Sometimes it feels like a few days canst several weeks, or even months out here. And that''s why I''ll always be here for you, bringing you the soothing sounds of the old world... to make life just a little less hectic. A little more bearable. This is Mr. New Vegas. Thanks for listening.</em>


    Before we''d even set off for Jacobstown, there were problems. Not because I wasn''t sure everyone would fit in the Corvega (though, I admit, that did turn out to be a bit of an issue), but because... well...


    "Th'' hell, man!" Cass yelled out. "Why''s he freakin'' th'' fuck out on us?" Cass had tried to properly introduce herself to Rex, but the dog just started growling and snarling and barking at her. And then it just got worse when Boone tried to calm him down.


    "The King said Rex doesn''t like hats, or the people who wear them," I said with a straight face. At least, as much as I could muster. Both Cass and Boone stopped and stared at me.


    "What." The two of them practically spoke in unison. I just shrugged.


    "That''s pretty much exactly what I said. Something to do with rhyming with rats or something, I don''t know."


    "That doesn''t make sense," Boone said simply.


    "You''re right, it doesn''t make any sense. But you know what''s more important than that?" I paused, waiting to see if they''d figured out what I had. I let the silence hang in the air for a minute. "More important, the dog has stopped barking."


    The three of us all turned to look at Rex - and instead saw the unmistakable brown cloak of Veronica. She''d appeared out of nowhere, and was showering Rex with attention, scratching him behind the ears and below the brain case. Rex''s tongue lolled out of his mouthzily, his tail was wagging like mad.


    "Well, I suppose that''s one problem solved," I said, holding back a chuckle.


    And so, off we went to Jacobstown, Cass riding shotgun, Boone behind her, Arcade in the middle with his face buried in another book, and Veronica behind me with Rex sitting on herp. As big as the dog was outside, he was positively enormous inside the car. Things weren''t quite as bad as they could have been, however... mostly because Rex was sticking his head (and a sizable portion of the rest of him besides) out the back window as we drove along. I''m just d ED-E could fly, because I don''t think we could have squeezed anyone else into the damn car.


    The trip up the mountain was pretty quiet, surprisingly. I mean, asionally we made small talk - well, when I say "we" I mean Cass, Veronica, and myself. Arcade was too wrapped up in his book, and Boone was... well, Boone. Just inconsequential bullshit to pass the time. As we got further and further up the road snaking up the mountain, however, we no longer found ourselves in a desert. And the bullshit just sort of... stopped.


    "Ok, correct me if I''m wrong..." Veronica said, looking around. "But you guys are seeing this, right? I''m not just going crazy?"


    "That all d''pends..." Cass chimed in sticking her head out the window to get a better view of thendscape rushing past. "Are you seein'' a whole fuckload''a trees?"


    "Ok, I''m not going crazy. Good to know."


    If I''m honest, I''m d they said it first, because I was starting to doubt my own eyes. It began as just a few trees as we made our way up the winding mountain road but by the time Veronica pointed it out, the trees were so thick we could barely see anything else.


    I''ve seen trees before, but it wasn''t all that often; there''s the park in the center of Shady Sands, Vault City has a garden where they grow crops, and the city of Arroyo has a fair number of trees, too. But those trees were not like these trees. The colors of those trees - the light brown bark, the dull green leaves, the grey apples - all the colors seemed... off somehow. Like the trees weren''t real. Like they were manufactured, rather than grown. By contrast, The more I looked, the more I realized that these tall, thick trees with dark, rich browns and deeply vibrant greens... this is what trees are supposed to look like.


    "Forget the trees," I finally said. "Is it just me, or it starting to get a bit colder?" Most of the time, traveling in my car was decently coldpared to the blistering heat of the desert sun, but that was usually just because of the wind rushing in through the windows that didn''t have ss. But thest few minutes, it really had felt like the temperature had dropped considerably.


    "It is getting colder," Arcade said without even looking up from his book. "Air is less dense at higher altitudes, and can''t retain as much heat energy from sr radiation as it can at lower altitudes where the air has a higher density per cubic inch. It has to do with the volume of air in a given-" before he could continue, Cass interrupted him.


    "Thank ye, profess''r, I think we get th'' point." She shifted in her seat, and pulled her jacket closer around her. "An'' th'' point is, it''s gettin'' fuckin'' cold."


    "It''s not that bad," Boone spoke up.


    Before I knew it, a bend in the road brought us to yet another surprising sight. Still a ways ahead of us and blocking the road was arge wall, made out of giant wood poles. Some of them looked like telephone poles that had been sharpened at the top, but a lot of the others looked to be little more than massive tree trunks that had been simply ripped out of the ground and put in ce. And then, behind the wall, we got our first real view of the mountain peak.


    It was... white. There were clouds hanging around the peak that almost looked like fog, and the peak itself wasn''t green like the rest of the trees around the mountain. Everything was covered in a thinyer of white powder. It was... snow? It took me a minute to think of the word. I''d seen trees in person before, obviously, but the only time I''d ever seen snow was in a holotape about a fat man in a red suit. The closest I''d evere to seeing snow in real life was the ash storms around the Boise ruins. But I think I''m getting a little off topic.


    "D''ya s''pose that''s it then?" Cass asked as I pulled the car to a stop several dozen feet away from the wall. I checked my Pip Boy and nodded. But something was bothering me. Jacobstown, just guessing from the name, was (presumably) a town of some sort. So, where was everyone?


    "Wait here a sec. I''ll check it out," I said, getting out of the car. I don''t know how to exin it - everything was calm and seemingly normal, but I couldn''t shake a feeling of unease. So I checked to make sure Roscoe''s was loaded, but I kept the safety on and the holster unbuttoned when I put it back on my thigh. Probably not the safest thing, but useful for a quick draw... just in case.


    Slowly and carefully, I approached the wall of logs. I could hear a faint buzzing as ED-E hovered several dozen feet above me. I looked around, scanning my surroundings, but I was still kind of in awe of all the nt life and the unfamiliar colors. Which I suppose was why I was caught off guard.


    "Hold it right there, human!" an incredibly loud and deep voice, like a 300 pound man gargling gravel with a tongue made of sandpaper, came out of nowhere. Instinctively, I reached for Roscoe and looked around for the source of the voice. But I removed my hand a momentter when a second voice shouted out from somewhere else nearby: "Hands where we can see them! Don''t make any sudden movements, or you''re dead meat, human!"


    A secondter, a good chunk of what I thought were tworge bushes next to the wall stood up. The outline of both figures was positively massive, and I immediately recognized what they had to be: super mutants. They were wearing some kind of outfits covered in branches and leaves and various other bits of nt life. I suddenly became aware of the two veryrge caliber rifles, wrapped in bup and even more nt life, pointing directly at my chest.


    "Uh... hi." I said, the gears in my brain slowly starting to turn, trying to think. In the meantime, I just kept my hands raised, away from me. "You two are pointing veryrge guns at me, and I''m not entirely certain why." The mutant on the right stepped closer towards me, and I couldn''t help but just keep looking up. The muzzle of his rifle was just a few inches from my chest now.


    "What''s your business in Jacobstown, human?" one of the massive super mutants covered in leaves asked. I tried to see through the camouge he was wearing, but his face waspletely concealed by mesh.


    "I''m here to see Doctor Henry," I said as calmly as I could muster. Part of me tensed up when I heard movement from behind and above me. Without looking away from the mutant, I pointed back towards my Corvega and spoke as quickly as I could before ED-E or anyone else rushed in and got me killed. "I got a sick cyberdog in my car that needs his particr brand of expertise, and I heard Jacobstown is where I could find him. Is he here?"


    The super mutant bearing down on me took a few steps back and raised his right hand to the mass of mesh and foliage surrounding his head. When he spoke, it was obvious that he wasn''t speaking to me anymore.


    "Marcus. Did you get any of that?" He paused. "What''s your call, sir?" There was a longer pause this time. "Yes sir. Loud and clear. Over and out." The mutant put his hand back on the rifle, and stepped back towards the wall, taking arge fist and smacking it against the wall twice with a pair of resounding thuds. I looked around, and realized the other mutant had already disappeared.


    "Go on in, human. Marcus wants to talk to you." I started to rx. I let my hands fall to my sides, and took a quick nce back at my Corvega. Sure enough, Cass, Boone, Arcade and Veronica (with Rex at her heels) had all exited the car, but hadn''t gotten too far. ED-E was by them too, hovering around at eye level.


    I turned back to the wall, and quickly realized the other mutant sentry had disappeared just as swiftly and silently as the other one. How something that massive could be that sneaky without a stealth boy, I still haven''t figured out. While I was trying to work it out, therge door made of tree trunks and telephone poles started to open inwards with a loud groan.


    "So, what th'' fuck was that ''bout?" Cass asked as she and everyone else got close. Her shotgun was in her hand, but thankfully it was pointed at the ground. "Those looked like super mutants." I nodded.


    "They were. And apparently somebody named Marcus wants to see me." I took a look inside the now open gate. Off in the distance, I saw a number of long, two story houses painted a dull deep color that wasn''t quite red, but wasn''t quite brown either. I saw a few signs of life, like bighorners, and right next to the road was arge sign; even though it was faded and painted over, I could tell that before the war it had said "Mt. Charleston Lodge and Ski Resort." It now simply read "Jacobstown."


    "Marcus?" Arcade asked. "I was under the impression we were here to see Henry. Who''s Marcus?"


    "You sure this is the right ce? A super mutant town?" I nodded, and walked forward through the gate and into the town, still a bit on edge if I''m honest.


    "I hear you''re looking for Henry, human," said a voice simr to the ones I''d heard before. However, this voice seemed a bit... mellow, somehow. I looked around for the source, and was suddenly face to face with another super mutant. There were several things that struck me about his appearance: on his right shoulder he wore a piece of bright orange metal, he had arge headset with a mic strapped to his ear, and the left side of his face was covered in warts, bumps, and deep pits. The thing that stood out the most, however, was his mouth. It wasn''t in a constant sneer. Unlike every single other super mutant I''d ever seen before, he didn''t have leather straps holding the sides of his mouth up.


    If it wasn''t for the greenish-grey skin, the massive muscles bulging out from underneath the metal tes of his armor, and the fact that he stood a good head and a half taller than me, I''d go so far as to say he almost looked normal.


    "Yes I am," I said with a nod. "Are you Marcus?"


    "Indeed. We don''t get many human visitors up here. At least, not many friendly human visitors, so I thought I''d wee the neers."


    "Is that why the guards outside were covered in bushes?" I asked with a smirk. Marcus chuckled a little at that.


    "Yeah, thest few months we''ve had problems with raiders and bandits, so the guards have taken to wearing the ghille suits. So, do you mind if I ask who you all are?"


    "Well, I''m Sheason, this is Cass, Arcade, Veronica, Boone, ED-E, and Rex. You the guy in charge here?" He just chuckled softly, though being a super mutant, I could still feel the vibrations theugh sent through the ground.


    "I guess you could say that. Mayor, sheriff, founder... I do my best to keep things from falling apart. Just got a few rules you and your friends need to know if you''re gonna be staying here for any length of time. You''re free to walk around, just don''t stare at the Nightkin. They don''t like people looking at them."


    "Nightkin?" I asked. I felt like I''d heard that name before, and then I remembered: the blue skinned super mutants below the REPCONN site that used the stealth boys. The leader had called them Nightkin.


    "I think he meansmandos," Boone added, probably thinking of the same thing.


    "Why don''t the Nightkin like people looking at them?" Veronica asked.


    "The Nightkin suffer schizophrenia from the Stealth Boys they''re always using. They don''t like being visible. They don''t take being exposed too well," Marcus said grimly. A grimace passed over his face, and he continued. "One of the reasons I settled Jacobstown was so they could be cured. But not every group of Nightkin..." He sighed heavily. "They don''t all know about this ce. And not every Nightkin wants to get cured anyway."


    "We ran into a group ofmandos at the rocket test site west of Novac," Boone said to Marcus. "Last I heard, they were heading to the REPCONN headquarters in Henderson."


    "Thanks for the tip," Marcus turned and nodded at Boone, but then stopped when he saw the beret on Boone''s head. His eyes narrowed. "One other thing. If you''re NCR, keep it to yourself. They''re not popr around here. Lot of bad blood, goes back years. Some here still have the memories. Most still have the scars."


    "I''m not taking off my beret," Boone stated, seemingly trying to stare down Marcus from behind his sunsses. Marcus just shrugged.


    "Personally, I don''t have a problem if you''re NCR, so long as you stay out of trouble. But I''m not the town. Other than that, I don''t think there''s anything different from any other civilized town. Don''t start any fights or steal anything, we''ll treat you fair. Not a lot to ask."


    "Alright, fair enough," I said. "So, where can I find Doctor Henry then?"


    "Inside the lodge," Marcus gestured behind him, towards the big reddish-brown building at the end of the road. "Your best bet would be theb, at the south end of the building. Just follow the sounds of sparking wires and arcing electricity, you can''t miss it."


    "Thanks. Oh, and one other thing, before I forget. Is there a ce where I can park my car?"


    The inside of the lodge was not really what I expected. All around Jacobstown, we''d seen lots of super mutants walking around everywhere, going about their business and staring at the neers - the only time I''d ever seen so many super mutants in one ce that weren''t trying to shoot at me was Necropolis. And when I opened the door to the ski lodge, I expected more of the same.


    But no. Everything on the inside of the building was either made of wood or stone, and there were animal heads and rugs and furs mounted on the walls... but I couldn''t see any mutants. Cass let out a low whistle as she stepped inside just behind me.


    "Damn. This s''plush, isn''t it?"


    "I think they were going for ''timelessly rustic,'' with the hunting trophies mounted everywhere," Arcade said, examining one of the animal heads near the front desk. "I''m surprised they''re still so well preserved after so long. I don''t think many of these species exist anymore." I nodded, sparing a nce for some kind of brown and orange bird that had been stuffed and mounted on the wall, and started walking towards the hall on the right - the south part of the building, ording to my Pip Boy''spass - when I heard Boone speak up from right behind me.


    "We''re not alone." I didn''t get a chance to ask what he was talking about before I got an answer in the form of a loud, harsh voice. It wasn''t quite as gravelly as most super mutant voices, but there was an edge of hard impatience to the words.


    "More humans? What are you doing here? The Nightkin want nothing to do with you humans..." The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows. If he hadn''t moved, I would''ve never known he was there. He was one of the blue skinned super mutants - in fact, he looked almost exactly the same as the leader of the super mutants below REPCONN. The only difference was that he didn''t carry a brahmin skull.


    "Hey, I''m not trying to cause any trouble. I''m just looking for Doc Henry." I looked around, past all the hunting trophies and all the wood and stone, and my blood went ice cold; in every shadow, I could make out the faint outlines of Nightkin. They weren''t doing anything, they were just... watching. Unblinking. Every pair of mutant eyes in the dark recesses'' of the lodge''s lobby were fixed directly on me.


    "You''re human," the Nightkin said again. "You don''t need to try for trouble to find you. You''re always staring at things. Always sticking your noses into things you don''t understand. Always prodding, always poking... Always staring. You make us ufortable."


    "Well, you''re staring at us," Veronica said. "How''s that different?"


    "IT IS DIFFERENT!" the Nightkin practically yelled, stepping out of the shadows and looming over us. I think Boone is the only one of us who didn''t step back. "Right now I''m trying very <em>very</em> hard to remain civil. You are not making it easy!" I stepped in between the mutant and everyone else, and tried to ignore the fact that he was much, muchrger than any other mutant I''d ever encountered.


    "Look, we''re just here to see Doctor Henry. Nothing else. Do you think you can let us pass?" He stared at me for a few seconds, and then started to slowly back away, speaking as he slipped back into the shadows.


    "Of course... but you should know something, human. I represent the Nightkin. Marcus may lead this town, but the Nightkin listen to Keene - they listen to me." And with that, he disappeared back into the shadows. I took a look around, and realized all the other Nightkin had vanished as well.


    "This is getting ridiculous. How are they doing that?" I said, not even trying to hide my exasperation.


    "Do what?" Cass asked.


    "Just disappear like that! They''re like 300 pounds of solid muscle - how can they move that quietly?" I sighed, shook my head, and headed down the hallway. "I swear, this is starting to be the weirdest trip to the vet in history..."


    There was a pair of closed double doors at the end of the hall. On one of the smoked ss windows - which looked to have been reinforced with iron mesh - there was a sign which read: "Doctor Adolphus Henry" and below it: "PhD, MD, OD, DVM"


    I couldn''t help but just... stare at the odd collection of letters. What did it all mean? I was about to ask Arcade, since he''d probably know, when he brushed past me and opened up the door without even knocking. Rex was right behind him. Just as the door opened, there was a sharp crack, like a bolt of lightning, a bright sh, and a loud hum that started to wind itself down to a lower pitch.


    The inside of this room was such a highly stark contrast to the rest of the lodge, that I could hardly believe it existed in the same continent, much less the same building. The walls were either torn out to show exposed wiring with hundreds of splices, or were covered in sheets of slightly stained white metal. All around were machines of all various shapes and sizes, mainframeputers with arcane dials and exposed wiring, a corner full ofputer terminals, and at least half a dozen operating and examination tables shoved against one wall. There were several tables, all of which were covered inboratory equipment, beakers, stacks of papers, microscopes, test tubes.


    "Sorry boss," I heard a voice that sounded like a woman who''d smoked two packs a day for forty years over the roar of machinery. "Looks like this one''s another failure, just like the rest." The owner of the voice was a female ghoul who held a clipboard in her rotten hands, and was wearing a whiteb coat. She was monitoring the readout on one of therge mainframes hooked up to the wall. From behind a set of privacy blinds near the operating tables came a very old looking man, also wearing a whiteb coat and a pair of enormous sses. He just grumbled at the ghoul''sment, taking off the coat and cing it on a nearby coat rack. And that was when he noticed us.


    "Who are you?" He asked, approaching me with an usatory re. The effect seemed amplified, since his enormous spectacles made his eyes appear about four timesrger than they should have been. He furrowed his brow at me, causing the massive wrinkles in his face and cheeks to be even more pronounced. "Haven''t you ever heard of knocking before barging into a room? I certainly hope this is important, because you''re interrupting some very important - and very delicate - research."


    "Hello, Henry," Arcade said before I got a chance to respond. The doctor raised an eyebrow at the voice and looked around for the source, adjusting his sses like he couldn''t quite believe his eyes. "It''s certainly been a while, hasn''t it?"


    "Arcade? Arcade Israel Gannon, is that really you? Bloody hell boy, you''ve grown."


    "No, I haven''t. You''ve just gotten shorter." The two of themughed.


    "Yes, well, that''s just the osteoporosis for you. Eighty seven years on this mudball spinning through space, and I still can''t stop myself from getting old, no matter how hard I try. It has been a while, hasn''t it though? Four years, two months and sixteen days since the entirety of the old gang got togetherst, unless my ailing brain is failing me." I caught a smirk in the corner of Henry''s mouth. "I suppose this visit isn''t entirely social, however, what with the motley collection of vagabonds you seem to have collected." The elderly doctor cast a nce in our direction.


    "Hey!" Cass practically yelled. "Who''re ye callin'' a vagabond?"


    "I''m d you finally have a decent set up. This looks like a reasonably effectiveboratory you''ve built for yourself," Arcade said, ignoring Casspletely.


    "Do you really think so?" Henry sighed, shrugged, and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Personally, I think it''s a bit spartan. Everything here is salvaged and scavenged. It''s a child''s y setpared to the set up I had back in-"


    "As much as I''d like to catch up," Arcade cut him off before he could continue, "we''re here because of a cyberdog. This cyberdog, specifically." He gestured to Rex, who looked up at the pair of docs expectantly. "ording to his owner, The King, there''s something wrong with his brain. I know cyberdogs are one of your areas of expertise, so we brought him to you."


    "Hmm..." Henry knelt down with a groan and the sound of popping joints to get a closer look at the dog. Amazingly, the dog was incredibly obedient as the old man ran his fingers over the metal tes, the brain case, checking the dog''s muzzle. After a minute or two of examining the dog in such a manner, he attempted to get back up... and then held his hand out above his head. Instinctively, I went to help the doctor get up, while Arcade grabbed his hand and helped steady him as well.


    "Thank you, boys," he said more to Arcade than me. "Well, if I had to guess, I''d say this dog is suffering from neural degradation. Bio med gel can only preserve a living brain for so long... but in order to be sure, I''ll need to examine him more thoroughly for the next several hours."


    "How many hours are we talking about?" Veronica asked, cing a hand on Cass'' shoulder to get a better look at what was going on. I tried to ignore Cass'' blushing from the contact.


    "Maybe three... four hours at most. Of course, that''s merely the examination and diagnostic scans. That doesn''t take into ount the time needed to fix any problems that I may discover, of course."


    "Does this ce have rooms or beds where we can stay the night?" I asked, already knowing exactly where this was going, and dreading the oue regardless. Henry merely shrugged as he encouraged the cyberdog to follow him and get up on one of the examination tables.


    "You''d have to ask Marcus about something like that. However... there is one other thing." He said, putting hisb coat back on. Here ites...


    "Go ahead and say it," I said, fairly certain of what wasing next.


    "My work regarding the Nightkin has reached a critical stage and cannot afford any dys. If you help me out with my research, then I''ll dly help your dog."


    Yup. It''s gonna be another one of those days, isn''t it?


    "Fine. What exactly are you working on, anyway?"


    "A long term project that Marcus gave me. The Nightkin have varying degrees of mental instability due to their addiction to stealth boy usage. Over thest several months, I''ve been trying to develop a cure, with varying degrees of sess. Currently, I''m investigating the local nightstalker poption. For some reason, they seem to have developed a stealth field almost identical to the one generated by a stealth boy device. I''ve also gotten my hands on a working stealth boy Mark II prototype, but any experiments using that carries with it a substantial risk, so I''d rather not pursue that avenue of research just yet."


    "Alright. So, what do you need us to do?"


    "I''m not convinced that the nightstalker mutation is a natural one. I''vepared the brain chemistry of a Nightkin to one of the local nightstalkers we killed," As he spoke, he pulled out a pair of printouts and showed them to us. I couldn''t make heads or tails of it, but Arcade seemed like he understood what it meant. "They both exhibit simr neurochemical changes. Now, I''m not iming that nightstalkers are running around wearing stealth boys, mind you. I just don''t think it''s all a coincidence. What I need right now is some proof, and I need someone to investigate theirir in the hills above Jacobstown to get it for me. Some of the super mutants have looked around, and can show you where it is, but they''ve alle back empty handed. Perhaps a pair of fresh eyes will have better luck."


    I turned to the rest of the group. "Well? What do you say? Want to go hunting?" If nothing else, it would give us all something to do while the doctor looked Rex over. Before I got an answer from any of them, Henry spoke up onest time.


    "Oh, and by the way. Lily might be interested ining with you."


    "Lily?" I asked. Henry nodded.


    "Yes. Trust me, you''ll know ''her'' when you see ''her.'' Regardless, she''s lost a few of her bighorners to the nightstalkers and would probably enjoy a spot of revenge. Who knows, if you convince her to tag along, she might be useful." I just nodded slowly.


    "I''ll see what I can do."

 Chapter 30: Unfriendly Persuasion

    Chapter 30: Unfriendly Persuasion


    <em>You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, and it''s time for some news. ording to an anonymous source in the NCR, a Legion ver party was wiped outst night in a failed raid of the Bitter Springs refugee camp. Two armed civilians that have yet to be identified inflicted heavy Legion casualties. The source said, quote; "God sent us two angels, and at least one of them had a .308 caliber ming sword of justice - with a telescopic sight." Got a Tony Bet song up next, letting us all know that "The Best Is Yet To Come."</em>


    "Hey, Sheason? You got a minute?" Boone spoke up from behind me as I walked away from the lodge. I looked behind me, and for some reason, he was the only one there - aside from ED-E. I knew Arcade was still in Henry''sb - he''d wanted to help Henry out in whatever way he could and elected to stay in theb. But where were Cass and Veronica?


    "Yeah, I always got time for you, man. What''s up?" I asked. Boone cleared his throat, and adjusted his sunsses.


    "I just wanted to... uh.. say... thanks. For Bitter Springs. Convincing me to go back, I mean." I nodded slowly.


    "Don''t worry about it, man. I just hope it helped."


    "Yeah. It did," he said, his expression unchanged. "Things seem... clearer somehow. Saving those people from the Legion... I don''t think doing that bnced out what I did, or made it any better, but... I think I just needed some kind of closure..." Boone trailed off.


    "Sometimes a little bit of closure is all you need." I leaned against one of the stone pirs and folded my arms across my chest, and looked out across Jacobstown. "Did you ever tell Ca about what happened?"


    "No." Boone said almost before I''d even finished speaking. He started looking at the rest of the town... though, I could tell, he was reflexively scanning the surrounding for potential targets rather than enjoying the scenery. "I wanted to... a couple of times. I just... I couldn''t."


    The two of us just stood there, staring at the town in silence; the only noise came from ED-E hovering in the air behind us. And then the silence was broken. The doors behind us swung open, and I could hear both Cass and Veronicaughing about something. When I looked, Veronica had her arm draped over Cass'' shoulder, and Cass'' hat was askew.


    "So, where''ve you two been?" I asked... and immediately realized it was a stupid question. The two of them tried to stopughing and calm themselves down, and they both tried to straighten out their outfits. As they did so, I noticed that both of them were blushing profusely, and Cass was trying to adjust her jacket''s cor to hide a red mark on her neck.


    "Uh, we were jus''... Nowhere. Y''know, jus'' fallin'' back a bit." Cass blurted out hurriedly.


    "Yep, nothing to worry about!" Veronica said, failing to hold back a smile. "Absolutely no reason to suspect that the two of us were making out while no one was looking." Cass just looked away, cleared her throat, and tried to pull her hat down over her face.


    "Hate to break up the soap opera," Boone spoke up; the relief on Cass'' face was extremely evident. "But I think Marcus wants a word." I turned just in time to see the super mutant mayore to a stop a few feet away from me.


    "Hey there, human. Mind if I ask you a question?" Marcus asked.


    "Well, you just did, but go on," I smirked. Marcus chuckled as well.


    "I was just curious about something. I saw you driving that blue Corvega on the way in - are you that Courier that got shot in Goodsprings?"


    "Let me guess," I said, rubbing my temple. "You heard about me on the radio?" Marcus nodded.


    "Well, yes. I guess that means you are, huh? I got a problem, and could use your help." He said simply.


    "Does it involve carrying a package somewhere? Because frankly, I could use something boring to break up the shootouts and fistfights."


    "Not to mention getting the crap kicked out of you," I heard Cass mutter under her breath from behind me. Marcus just looked confused.


    "Wait, you mean you actually are a courier?" Marcus looked a little confused. "I thought the name was just a metaphor."


    "So what''s the problem?" I asked, hoping to get the conversation back on track.


    "Thest few weeks, Jacobstown has been harassed by a couple of NCR mercenaries. We haven''t seen them for a few days, but the guards just informed me they''ve shown up again," Marcus said tapping his headset. "They''re repositioning near the main road. I think your car driving into the town may have piqued their interest."


    "What do you mean harassing the town? What''ve they been doing?" I asked.


    "Killing our bighorners, shooting at the lodge, that sort of thing. The bighorners are how the town supports itself - eating the meat, selling the hides and the milk, that sort of thing. Granted, there''s enough wild ones around the mountain to restock the herd if one or two get killed, but the bigger problem is that it''s getting harder and harder to keep people from retaliating."


    "How do you know they''re NCR?" Boone asked. Marcus opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. Eventually, he just shrugged.


    "I guess I can''t say for sure if they''re NCR. All we know for certain is that, whoever they are, they want us dead or gone."


    "So why can''t you just take them out?" I asked. "I mean, hell, the guns the guards have are huge. They have to be at least 50 cal or something. It''s not like you don''t have the firepower to defend yourself." That seemed the most obvious course of action. A sort of old-man-sitting-on-the-porch-with-a-shotgun, ''get off mywn!'' scenario if there ever was one.


    "But we''re not looking to fight anyone. That''s the issue," Marcus said matter-of-factly. "Almost all of the people around here - including me - were in the Master''s army. I''ve had enough of fighting, enough of war. That''s why I founded Jacobstown. Us super mutants have needed a ce to call our own for nearly a hundred and twenty years. I was hoping this ce was far enough away from humans that they wouldn''t bother us... One of these days I''m hoping we can live among the rest of the wastnd, just like everyone else. No more fighting, just... get along."


    Marcus sighed and looked away from me, a wistful expression falling over his green features I don''t know how, but at that moment I got a sense of just how old, and how <em>exhausted</em> Marcus looked. I was at a loss for words. Just when I thought the wastnd couldn''t surprise me anymore, something like this happens. Marcus shook it off and got serious again.


    "If those mercs are killed, it''ll give the NCR or whoever hired them an excuse toe up here to try and wipe us out. It would only escte, and a whole lot of people  human, mutant, whoever  would get killed. Thest thing the wastnd needs is more bloodshed."


    "Alright, so what do you want me to do?"


    "Well, you''re human for a start - they might be willing to listen to what you have to say," Marcus said with a shrug. Cass justughed.


    "Yeah, that''s like sayin'' Caesar an'' Kimball''d listen t''each other cuz they''re both human."


    "Fair point," Marcus agreed. "Still, you''d be more likely to at least get a word in than ... well, me," He gestured to himself. "Point is, I''m not asking you to kill them. Just try and talk them into leaving. Hell, pay them off if you have to."


    "Alright. I''ll see what I can do about your merc problem if you can help us find a ce to stay the night. Sound reasonable?" Marcus seemed a bit surprised by the request, and started scratching his chin.


    "Yeah, that sounds agreeable. I think there are a few unupied cabins on the north side of town. I wouldn''t suggest trying to find a ce in one of the big lodges - that''s where the Nightkin like to stay. I''ll look around to make sure; get back to you on that." And with that, Marcus walked off.


    "Alright, so I got a n," I said, turning to the rest of my friends. "Boone, you got the best eyes. See if you can find this Lily - ording to the good doctor, she''s wearing a big sun hat and gardening gloves, or something to that effect."


    "Will do," he said with a nod.


    "Veronica, see if you can find anyone willing to trade for supplies, just in case. Microfusion cells if you can manage it, the car''s starting to run a bit t. We should be fine for another hundred miles or so, but... you know. Better safe than sorry, right?" Veronica smiled and gave me a mock-salute.


    "They don''t call me a procurement specialist for nothin'' boss! I''ll find somebody willing to trade."


    "Awesome. And Cass? Want to help me scare off the mercs?" Cass smirked and pulled the shotgun off her back. She turned to Veronica and put a finger to her lips.


    "Shhh... be very, very quiet. We''re hunting shitheads."


    As it turns out, the three of us  Cass, ED-E, and myself  actually were pretty quiet as we started walking away from Jacobstown. That is, of course, until I decided to be a smartass.


    "Soooo" I started to say to Cass, a sly grin working its way onto my face. However, before I could say anything


    "Shut up," Cass said forcefully, pulling her sk off her hip and taking a drink.


    "What? I haven''t even said anything yet!"


    "Yeah, but y''were thinkin'' it. I could tell. Y''were gonna make some wise-assment ''bout me''n Veronica."


    "Well, you have to admit, the two of you making out when the rest of us aren''t looking, that was a rather feisty and  dare I say?  a rather scandalous move on her part." I knew in my head that I shouldn''t be making fun, but I just couldn''t help myself. Cass stopped in her tracks, and looked a little indignant.


    "Hang on  what makes y''so sure t''was her idea? I c''n be just''s feisty''n scand''lous as her!"


    "So it was your idea then?" I asked, not even attempting to hold back the shit-eating grin. Her eyes just went wide and her cheeks when even redder when she''d realized what she''d said. Behind me, I heard ED-E let out a series of beeps and whistles that I was sure was himughing.


    "Fuck you," Cass shook her head and started walking again. She shook her head, and I could tell  a smile was trying to creep into the corner of her mouth. "S''not my fault she''s got a talented tongue."


    "She''s quite the cunning linguist then, eh?" I added helpfully. Thankfully, she justughed that time instead of getting offended.


    "Yeah th'' words jus'' <em>roll</em> offa her tongue, don'' they?" She barely finished before she joined ED-E and meughing.


    In the woods ahead of us, I heard a crack: the sound of a twig snapping. I brought a fist up to signal us to stop.


    "Quiet," I said, just barely above a whisper, but loud enough that everyone shut up. "You hear that?"


    "Think it''s th'' mercs?" Cass asked, keeping her shotgun at the ready. I nodded.


    "Hey!" I called out in the direction I''d heard the noise. "We know you''re there, soe on out. We just want to talk." I didn''t see anything at first just a bunch of thick foliage and trees. I was starting to feel quite foolish, like I was just hearing things, when five figures emerged from the woods.


    I finally understood why Marcus knew these guys were mercenaries, and why he suspected they were NCR. These weren''t unorganized raiders or opportunistic bandits wearing whatever bits of scrap they could scrounge together and carrying broken down guns held together with duct tape; these assholes looked like professionals. They were all wearing suits of matte-ckbat armor, like the US army issued to foot soldiers before the bombs dropped. Three of them were carrying some Chinese made AK-47 knockoffs, the one in the back had a DKS-501 sniper rifle, and the one in the lead carried a sma rifle. Put it all together, and that meant whoever these guys were, they were well funded and obviously did this kind of thing for a living.


    It''s funny sometimes, the details that stand out in your head more than the others. For some reason, the goatee of the merc with the sma rifle reminded me of Orris'' beard  except much better kept, and not as messy. And his head was buzzed, rather than shaggy. It was almost like this guy was Orris if Orris had actually been as good as he thought he was.


    "Clear off," the one with the goatee said. "Our business is with the muties, not you."


    "What do you want with Jacobstown?" I asked simply. No sense beating around the bush.


    "I''m just doing what I''m paid to do," he said, taking a step closer. He kept his rifle lowered. "Harass the muties ''till they leave or attack us. If they leave, we let ''em go. If they attack, we wipe them out. Either way, the job''s not done until they''ve cleared out of the town."


    "So who''re you working for, wants this town cleared out so badly?"


    "Won''t name names, but there''s some important folks back in the NCR who are sick of the muties attacking their Brahmin herds. They want them gone from NCR territory. Maybe this group had something to do with it. Maybe not. Doesn''t matter. We''re getting paid either way" The lead merc scanned me up and down, and looked at me questioningly. "What''s it to you?"


    I was about to give them a counter offer to clear out, and do exactly what Marcus had said  pay them off  when an idea shed across my brain. It was probably a stupid idea, but it might just be crazy enough to work.


    "I just got one more question for you, then I''ll leave you be. Any of you ever heard of The Courier?" I asked. The guy in the front took a step back, and confusion momentarily passed over his face.


    "Yeah I''ve heard about him on the radio  it''s one of the news stories Mr. New Vegas has been ying over and over again. Something about a courier who got shot in the head near Goodsprings. He got up and started killing his way across the desert to Vegas. People''ve been talking about him like he''s unkible. I don''t even think he exists, personally."


    I didn''t say anything. I just crossed my arms over my chest and angled my face in just the right way so he could get a full view of the bullet scar still on my forehead. I knew exactly when he noticed, because his eyes went wide as pie tes and the color started to drain from his face. A few of the mercs in the back started whispering to each other, looking worried.


    "No" he finally managed to say. "No way. That Courier he he can''t be you."


    "Boss" one of the mercenaries spoke up. "D''you see his face? It''s got to be him!"


    "Shut up!" the lead merc said through gritted teeth. I just held back a smile.


    "Alright, here''s the deal. You assholes are going to clear out. Don''te back to Jacobstown ever again. If you do then you''re gonna have to deal with <strong>me</strong>. And trust me, when I''m through with you? You''ll <strong>wish</strong> you were only fighting super mutants." I let myself smirk, and shrugged. "You might win but I got killed once already. All it did was piss me off. It''s your choice." The merc in the lead narrowed his eyes at me, and shook his head.


    "This is what the fuck are you even going to do? You got no armor, you only have a 9 mil strapped to your hip you got no n, no hope  no way to win!"


    "And doesn''t that scare the shit out of you." It wasn''t a question. I smiled wide, not even trying to hold back my amusement as he recoiled back, paralyzed with fear. Finally, he shook his head again.


    "Fuck it. I know when to fold. This town ain''t worth it anyway. We''ll get out of here."


    The five of them disappeared into the woods, and a few minutester I heard the whine of several two-stroke engines firing up, followed by all five mercs emerging from the woods on motorcycles and speeding back down the hill. I gave them a friendly wave as they went by. Didn''t really care if they saw it or not, but I thought it was funny.


    When I turned around however, I was greeted by Cass staring at me with what can only be described as ck-jawed amazement. ED-E was nearby, and given the erratic nature of his hovering pattern, I''m sure that if he had a face he''d been looking at me the same way.


    "What?" I asked, looking between the two of them.


    "What th'' fuck was that?" Cass asked. ED-E beeped a few times, as if in agreement. "I mean fuck me, man! How''d you even DO that?" I just shrugged.


    "I figured that if even Marcus had heard of ''The Courier'' then the mercs probably had, too. Get my stupidly inted reputation working for me for a change, and getting me <em>out</em> of a shootout, rather than <em>into</em> one."


    "What if it hadn''t worked?" she asked, with disbelief still seasoning her words. I just shrugged again.


    "But it did."


    It didn''t take us too long to find Marcus.


    "You won''t have any more trouble with the mercenaries," I said simply. Marcus smiled at me and for some reason, that struck me as odd. Maybe it was because I''d never seen a super mutant smile before.


    "Yeah, the guards told me what happened. Good job  and I''m d you didn''t kill them. Letting them walk away proves we''re not bloodthirsty mutants. If NCR or anybody else is looking for an excuse to attack Jacobstown, they''re not going to get it from us. I have to say, though that n of yours? That was a bit risky, but it paid off. Kind of reminds me of a tribal I used to travel with He always used toe up with the craziest, most suicidal ns imaginable, and somehow, he could make it work ande out on top without a scratch. " Marcus chuckled softly to himself.


    "You travelled with a tribal?" Cass asked. Marcus nodded.


    "Yeah. This was 40 years ago? Maybe? I can''t remember. After the Master was defeated, all the surviving super mutants scattered. I founded a mining town called Broken Hills  bunch of super mutants, humans and ghouls all living together peacefully most of the time. And then one day, this tribal calling himself ''The Chosen One'' walked into my town. One thing led to another, and I found myself travelling with him, his dog, and a one-eyed bartender to find a GECK to save Arroyo. It was still a tribal vige, back then."


    "The fuck is a GECK?" I asked. I felt like I''d heard the word before, but I couldn''t ce where, or what it was.


    "The Garden of Eden Creation Kit," Marcus said simply. "It was a device about the size of a briefcase that was issued to a few Vaults before the war. Meant to terraform a lifeless waste, and make it habitable again."


    "I''m guessing you seeded?" I asked. I nced over at Cass, who, for some reason, seemed lost in thought. Marcus nodded.


    "Yeah, eventually. Nuked an oil rig in the process, though Those were some fun times. We all went our separate ways after that. I went east, into the Rockies and wound up here. Don''t know what happened to my friend, though But I''ve got a feeling it turned out all right for him, in the end."


    "Hold on, back up," Cass asked, with a surprising sense of urgency in her voice. "That one-eyed bartender  what was his name?"


    "Damn it''s been a while" Marcus scratched his chin, but then snapped his fingers. "I remember now. His name was Cassidy. John Cassidy."


    No way.


    I know I was stupefied, I can say that much for certain. That had to be too much of a coincidence. It just had to be. Or maybe the world really is that small. Who knows? I wasn''t looking over at Cass, but I''m guessing the surprise was evident on her face as well, because Marcus asked: "What, did you know him?"


    "Know him? John Cassidy was my father''s name! You tryin'' ta tell me you knew my father?"


    "... You''re Rose of Sharon Cassidy," Marcus said. It wasn''t really a question. He leaned in to get a closer look at her. "You must be. You have his nose... and the whiskey blossoms on your cheeks." He smiled and chuckled a bit, but Cass just stood there, a look of shock stered on her face. I could practically see the whiskey-soaked cogs turning in her head; she clutched at the rose pendant hanging around her neck.


    "How th'' fuck could y''know ''im? Nobody''s ever known that fuckin'' deadbeat, ''cept mom!" She blurted out. Marcus took a step back, confused.


    "Deadbeat? John Cassidy?" Marcus shook his head. "No, John was one of the bravest, most honorable men I''ve ever met, next to The Chosen One. A little rough around the edges and hard to get used to, sure, but at the end of the day, he always wanted to do the right thing. Deal out his own brand of wastnd justice to those who''d exploit the weak, defend those who couldn''t defend themselves..."


    I was really hoping to see where this was going, but unfortunately, my attention was, at that precise moment, drawn away by a hand on my shoulder, and Boone informing me: "I found Lily."


    As interesting as it would have been to sit on the sidelines and watch how that exchange would''ve yed out topletion, I realized that there was still work to be done. So, with a sense of regret, I followed Boone away from Marcus and Cass.


    With any luck, Cass''d tell me what happenedter.


    I should''ve been expecting this. I really should have.


    Suddenly, everything Doc Henry had said about Lily made sense. She was tending to the animals in one of the bighorner pens around town, and her outfit consisted of a veryrge sun hat, a pair of oversized gardening gloves, a pair of tinted goggles, some tattered denim overalls, and a medkit strapped to her chest.


    Oh, and she just happened to be a Nightkin. I now understood his odd tone of voice when he called Lily a ''her.''


    "That her?" I asked Boone, even though I could just tell. He merely nodded. I sighed. "Well. Needs must."


    The closer I got to her, the more I realized that she was actually pretty short for a super mutant. She was still easily a foot taller than me and twice as wide, but for some reason she just didn''t seem quite as massive as the other super mutants around town. Just unreasonably big.


    "Excuse me?" I spoke up as I got behind her. The blue skinned super mutant turned at the sound, but I couldn''t tell if she was looking at me from behind those tinted goggles. At first I thought she was sneering, but then I realized she just had those leather straps holding the corners of her mouth up. "Are you Lily?"


    "Jimmy?" Just like every super mutant except Marcus, when she spoke it sounded like a very heavy man with a beard and chest hair gargling gravel. "Little Jimmy, is that you? Oh my, how you''ve grown up! It''s so good of you toe and visit your grandma!"


    "Wait, Jimmy?" I asked, more than a little bit confused. "Who''s Jimmy?"


    "Oh, Jimmy, don''t you go on being silly now! Come here and give your grandma a hug!"


    The next thing I knew, I found myself being lifted up off my feet, caught in a bear hug that started crushing my arms and insides. It felt like I was held in a giant vice  and if I didn''t pass out from being unable to fill my lungs with air, I''d get knocked out by her halitosis. Honestly, her breath stunk. I felt and heard a series of rather sickening popse from my back.


    "It''s always so nice whenever youe to visit!" I got a much better view of the leather straps holding the sides of her mouth up than I ever wanted. A wave of hot breath assaulted my senses, and practically made my eyes water.


    "Gklkk! Gah! L-lily! P- put me d- down! Guk-k-k! I can- can''t breathe!"


    "Oh! Sorry, dearie!" Her voice rang in my eardrums, but thankfully she let me go. I copsed to the ground in a heap, gasping for air, and hoping that I didn''t have any cracked ribs. I felt a hand grasp me around the arm, and the next thing I knew Boone was helping me back onto my feet.


    "Thanks man," I said, still gasping.


    "Don''t mention it," Boone said with a nod.


    "I am so sorry, Jimmy. I guess your grandma doesn''t know her own strength, does she?" She bellowed out a massive bellyugh, and the ground shook from the sound.


    "I think" it felt like I was trying to drink the air, rather than breathing it in. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I''m not Jimmy. My name is Sheason."


    "I Oh" She suddenly went very still, and hunched over a bit. "Of course I have, dearie. How silly of me." Lily paused, and she started slowly nodding, her sun hat bobbing with every movement of her head. "I just haven''t taken my medicine yet today. How can I help you?" Her voice, while still loud and still resonating like an overworked gravel quarry, seemed quieter and less enthused now.


    "I''m looking into the nightstalker mutation for Doctor Henry. He said you might want toe along and help?" I offered, finally getting a decent rhythm back into my breathing. Lily on the other hand, seemed to start growling.


    "Oooh, those nightstalkers!" She stamped the ground, and nearly shook Boone and me off bnce. "Always killing my bighorners! Of course I''ll help! It''ll be nice to give them a piece of my mind." She clenched her fists, but then turned to look at something to her right. I tried to follow her gaze, but I couldn''t see what she was looking at. Suddenly, she spoke up again, but she didn''t talk to us. "Yes Leo, of course you cane too."


    Boone and I looked to each other, not really knowing what to think. I heard ED-E let off a few confused beeps behind us as well.


    "Uh Lily? Are you alright?" I asked. She turned back to look at me, and cocked her head.


    "Such a curious little munchkin, aren''t you? Don''t worry dearie, I''m fine. Just discussing things with Leo here." She turned to look to her right again. "No, Leo! That is a bad idea! It''s a very bad idea! It got us in a lot of troublest time, don''t you remember?"


    "Who''s Leo?" Boone asked, though honestly, I could''ve said the same thing if I wasn''t too busy merely being confused and trying to force more air back into my lungs.


    "Leo is a bad man, pumpkin! A very bad man!" Lily said with an affirmative nod. She turned her gaze to her right yet again, and spoke up quite harshly, like she was scolding a difficult child. "Yes you are, Leo! Don''t you try and deny it, mister!" She turned back to me, and her voice went back to the normal gravel pit. "He tells me to do things  terrible things! Sometimes the medicine isn''t enough to keep him quiet!"


    "But there''s no one there." I said, thinking I was stating the obvious.


    "Well of course there is, dearie!" She bellowed happily. "How else could I hear him tell me who to <strong>chop</strong>?" Lily said with undisguised enthusiasm.


    "So, he''s just a voice in your head?" I asked. Now, to be fair, my mind was still reeling just a bit from nearly being crushed; if I''d been thinking clearly, I wouldn''t have tried to pursue this avenue of conversation. As it was, though, Lily seemed to get just a bit upset. Her voice got real low, and somehow seemed to echo with a second, even deeper and nastier sounding voice as she spoke.


    "You shouldn''t say things like that where Leo can hear you, dearie. He doesn''t like it."


    "Whoa, okay, forget I said anything then." After I said that, Lily stopped growling... and let out a weird, wheezing chuckle instead.


    "Aw, don''t worry about a thing, dearie. Sometimes Leo goes off like that, but he knows full well if he goes too far, then your granny will make him stop. Isn''t that right, Leo?" When she turned, I thought she was going to wait for a response that wasn''ting, but instead, she reached down and grabbed hold of a pipe that was buried in the ground... and in one swift motion, pulled out a giant hunk of metal that must have been at least 8 or 9 feet long and buried up to the hilt like it was nothing. Both Boone and I stepped back out of the way when she swung it around and rested it on her shoulder, like a sword.


    "Now... let''s go get those nightstalkers off of mywn!"

 Chapter 31: Guess Who I Saw Today?

    Chapter 31: Guess Who I Saw Today?


    <em>The women of New Vegas often ask me if there''s a Mrs. New Vegas. Of course there is - you''re her. And you''re still just as perfect as the day we met. This is Mr. New Vegas, and you''re listening to Radio New Vegas. It''s just about time to get you some news. The Kings gang in Freeside put an official end to hostilities with the NCR today. An RNV reporter was on hand to speak with The King: "I feel so bad. I think it''s time we reconsider, baby." The headlines today were brought to you by Vault 21: Everything''s better... when you experience it in a Vault. Coming up next is the First Lady of Song, E Fitzgerald, reminding us that "Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall." If only it would rain in the Mojave once in a while...</em>


    The peace and serenity of the snow-covered mountain pass leading up the peak of Mt. Charleston was suddenly and irrevocably broken by the bellow of a drunkard.


    "Goddamn muth''rfuckin'' piece''a shit sonuva bitch! Why''n th'' bleedin'' crotch''ve th'' antichrist is it so pissing COLD?!" As if to illustrate her point, Cass pulled her jacket closer around herself as tight as she could.


    "A bit cold then, are you?" I said, more to wind her up than anything else.


    Honestly, I could see where she wasing from. It wasn''t snowing, but it was still very cold, and out of all of us, she was the least prepared for it. Boone had pulled that Marine armor and leather duster out of somewhere, so obviously he was warm enough. Last I knew, Veronica was wearing some kind of armor beneath her robe. ED-E was a robot. And Lily, out in front leading us to the nightstalker cave, was... well, she was a super mutant, so who knows if they even feel cold. Even I had zipped up my jacket. Cass just red at me from under her hat.


    "Stop movin'' yer face about with noisesin'' out''ve it!"


    "Aw, c''mon," Veronica slid close to Cass and put an arm around her; Cass merely huddled deeper into her jacket. "You can''t be that cold, can you?"


    "You c''n shut up fer a kickoff, yer wearin'', like, 15yers''ve ker!" Cass muttered just loud enough that everyone could hear her.


    "I meant because you drink so much whiskey," Veronica added. "I remember reading stories about people using brandy to ward off frostbite before the war. Why wouldn''t whiskey work?"


    Cass just grumbled something iprehensible. I shook my head, and sped up just enough to start walking even with Lily. I had a couple of questions I wanted to ask her - foremost in my mind, of course, being...


    "Hey, Lily? How much further is it to this cave with the nightstalkers?"


    "Oh, don''t worry your precious little head, dear!" Lily bellowed, shifting the massive de in her hands further up her shoulder. "It isn''t that much further. And then we can teach those nightstalkers a lesson about messing with my bighorners!" Sheughed, a deep, gravely, throatyugh that reverberated through the ground.


    "So, you mind if I ask you a few other questions on the way?" I asked, fully aware of the irony.


    "Aw, you want to hear some of grandma''s stories? You''re such a curious little munchkin. What would you like to know, pumpkin?"


    "Well, I suppose I should start by asking where you got that giant sword," I said, pointing at the positively enormous piece of metal resting on her shoulder. She lifted it up, and gave it a few swings when she answered; I had to duck, or else she would''ve taken my head off.


    "This old thing? Oh, I scavenged it off a Vertibird wreck just outside math about thirty years ago. Leo showed me how to make it all ready for chopping!" She rested the sword back on her shoulder and turned away from me to her left. "Didn''t you, Leo?"


    "So, where did you evene from, anyway?" I asked... and then I started questioning myself. Why was I suddenly so curious and asking so many questions? It took me a few minutes, but eventually I think I figured it out: I''d talked to super mutants in the past, but never at any length. This was the first time I''d ever gotten a real chance to ask a super mutant questions of any kind. I probably wouldn''t get this kind of opportunity again. Why not make the most of it?


    "Oh, I grew up in Vault 17," Lily said, looking up towards the peak of the mountain. "I never even saw the sun until I was 75 years old - that was when the super mutants raided the Vault and carried the lot of us off..." Her head snapped to the side, and she barked out: "Yes, Leo! I was getting to that part!" She shook her head and turned back to me. "Sorry dearie, sometimes Leo just doesn''t know when to shut up! But yes, the Master''s super mutants made me one of them, and they put me to work in an army that was going to conquer California!" She said thatst bit with a level of excitement and gusto that made me slightly ufortable.


    "So, who was the Master?" I heard Marcus mention the Master before, but I''d forgotten to ask who he was. I felt like I''d heard the name beforeing to Jacobstown, but I couldn''t ce exactly where. And that''s when I realized - this has been happening a lottely, especially when things start getting odd. Or when super mutants are involved. Which is the same thing, really.


    "Oh, he was a nasty man. A nasty, nasty man, dearie. You don''t want to know about him. But he was the one who made that super mutant army I told you about."


    "You were a soldier then?" Lily nodded... and then shrugged.


    "More a spy, really. Sometimes an assassin. I killed a lot of folks for the Master... Yes, Leo, you helped too!" Lily just growled, and shook her head.


    "What happened then?"


    "That wicked old Master got what wasing to him, that''s what!" Lily lifted her sword up above her head, and leaned her face in close to me. I could almost see her try to smile behind the leather face harness. "He was blown up by some boy from Vault 13. And after his cathedral exploded, I decided it was high time to go home..."


    Lily got surprisingly quiet after that. The only sound came from the wind rushing through the trees around us, and the footfalls crunching through the snow. Eventually though, I decided to break the silence.


    "So, did you?"


    "Oh, look!" Lily pointed ahead of us, towards a dark patch in the mountain near a cluster of trees. "We''re here!"


    The interior of the cave was a lot warmer than I expected. Once we''d cleared the mouth of the cave and descended deeper into the mountain, the temperature jumped considerably - much to Cass'' very vocal relief. Unfortunately, now that we were inside the cave, there was another problem: the deeper we went, the less light spilled in from the outside.


    "Man, it''s pitch ck down here, isn''t it?" I asked aloud, as my eyes tried and failed to adjust to the low light.


    "Yeah... too bad we don''t have any sort of technology to illuminate darkened areas. That would be preposterous!" I heard Veronica say from in front of me, right before she pulled a shlight out of her robe and a small, thin beam of light cut through the darkness. Ahead of us, I heard Lily''s booming voice echoing off the wall.


    "What are you talking about? I can see just fine! Yes, Leo, we know you can see too." Nightkin must be able to see in the dark, I thought to myself.


    The next thing I knew, I felt like I''d been blinded by a brilliant white sh, or hit with a shbang grenade. It was enough to knock me off bnce, and I stumbled backwards, into the cave wall. Jagged rocks pressed into my back, and I shut my eyes tight, hoping it could save my eyes.


    "Sheason! What''s goin'' on man? Y''alright?" I couldn''t immediately tell who was talking, I was so disoriented. I felt a hand grip my shoulder, and another grab my other arm to try and pick me up. With hesitation, I started to crack open my eyes... and was in for a bit of a shock.


    Everything in the cave was illuminated in stark, green detail. It was like the cave was lit up by an unearthly green sun. Cass was right in front of me with Veronica beside her, the two of them trying to lift me up. Looking at Veronica''s shlight felt like my eyes were being burned with a blowtorch. Both of them looked at me with illuminated green pupils, and I''ll be honest - all of this scared the fuck out of me. I had no idea what was going on.


    "Why is everything green?!" I blurted out as they got me back on my feet. "Why are your eyes glowing?" Cass and Veronica both took a step back, and looked at each other like I''d lost my mind. Boone, on the other hand, just cocked his head, like he was thinking.


    "Green? What''re y''talkin'' about?" Cass asked. Before I could answer, Boone put a hand on her shoulder and nudged her aside. Without a word, he leaned his masked face towards me, ced a gloved hand on my face, and used his thumb to hold my right eye open.


    "Hey! What are you -" I started.


    "Yup," Boone said, letting go of my face. "What I thought."


    "What''s what y''thought?" Cass asked.


    "Those bionic eyes of his must have some kind of night vision."


    "Bionic eyes?" I asked, but then I stopped... and remembered something Dr. Usanagi had said after I woke up in her clinic: "<em>... both the cornea and lens in your right eye had been damaged wholly beyond repair... your right eye had to be reced with a bionic lens..."</em>


    Given that my vision was the same in both eyes, however... I think she must have reced both. No wonder she had the look of a mad scientist about her. Note to self: stay away from any more mad scientists in the future. I couldn''t help but shake my head.


    "When the fuck did my life get so weird?" I asked.


    "I dunno. When y''got shot in th'' head?" Cass said with a shrug.


    Once I knew it was possible, it didn''t take me too long to figure out how to switch the way my eyes saw things - especially since Veronica was lending a hand during the few minutes of experimenting in that cave''s antechamber. Being a member of the Brotherhood of Steel meant she was more familiar with bionic eyes than anyone else. All I had to do was describe what I was seeing, and she could tell me what I was looking at.


    ording to Veronica, I merely had to "think" to make my eyes could switch between different "vision modes." There was "normal" mode, which was just visible light, an image intensifier (the night vision, which turned everything green for some damn reason), an infrared mode (which showed heat as reds, oranges, and whites, on a backdrop of blues and cks), and an "EM" mode (which showed electrical impulses as bright white on a ck backdrop).


    "Now, the question is," I asked as we made our way deeper into the cave, "why the fuck didn''t Usanagi tell me all of this when I was in her clinic?"


    "Who knows?" Cass shrugged.


    "Kind of makes me wonder what else she put inside me that I haven''t figured out how to work yet..." I tried as best I could to mask the trepidation in my voice.


    "I''m more wonderin'' why we haven''t run into any nightstalkers yet." Cass said. I had to admit, she did have a point. It felt like we''d been walking for a good long while, and making quite a bit of noise besides, and we hadn''t seen or heard any nightstalkers.


    Which probably meant that what happened next was inevitable, really.


    If you''ve never had to fight nightstalkers, consider yourself lucky. They rank up there with some of the nastier creatures I''ve ever had the misfortune toe across in the wastnd. From a distance, you could easily mistake a nightstalker for a coyote, or any other kind of nasty, wild, rabid dog that feeds on carrion... but they''re a whole lot worse. A nightstalker can be especially nasty if it catches you by surprise. But you will never find a single nightstalker. They always hunt and travel and live in packs.


    All around us, the sounds of dozens of rattles echoed off the rock walls. What sounded like a dozen maws or more all hissed and snarled and growled from every direction - in front, behind, to the sides, and even above us.


    "Oooh, FINALLY!" Lily''s voice boomed over the racket caused by the nightstalkers. There was a much harsher edge to her voice than normal, and I caught a glint of reflected light from Veronica''s shlight off Lily''s gigantic sword. "Come on, Leo! Something to <strong>CHOP</strong>!"


    I cycled through my eyes as fast as I could, looking around. A sh, and everything was illuminated in green. All I saw were the rocks and the ceiling of the cave. I could still hear the nightstalkers, but I couldn''t see anything. I was starting to get just a bit nervous. Another sh, and the cave was washed with blue... and all around me, I could see heat signatures from half a dozen coyote-sized shapes perched above us.


    My blood ran cold - I''m sure if I''d taken the time to look, my arms would''ve shown up blue on the thermal vision. As it was, I didn''t hesitate as soon as I felt VATS kick in, and snapped off five shots from Roscoe as quickly as I could. Three of the nightstalkers fell from headshots - one of them was in midair and kept tumbling towards me. There was a white hot st of energy that sliced through the air above my head, turning another nightstalker into a pile of ash and cloud of steaming vapor. I tried to aim for the remaining nightstalkers, but Lily beat me to it. I could see several slowly cooling animal bodies - none of them quite in one piece anymore, and one of them was still skewered on her sword, like a grotesque giant meat kebab.


    "What th'' fuck, man!" I looked over to Cass - she had her shotgun out, but theck of any real heating off the barrel told me she hadn''t yet fired any shots. "These fuckers c''n turn invisible?!"


    "Weren''t you paying attention when Doc Henry told us about this?" I asked. "That''s why we''re here - to find out why they''re invisible." I switched my eyes back to normal, and turned on the light from my Pip Boy, shining it on the dead nightstalker that had slid near us. It was no longer invisible.


    Like I said before, you can confuse nightstalkers for coyotes from a distance. But there are several significant differences. Instead of fur, for one thing, it has a body covered in scales... and a line of razor-sharp quills poking out of its spine. Its head is the same size as a coyote, but the shape of a rattlesnake -plete with poisonous fangs. And it has a giant rattlesnake rattle on the end of its tail. This nightstalker, however, was slowly leaking a dark-red, viscous, ichor-like blood from a hole in its head.


    My inspection of the dead nightstalker, however, was cut short by Lily.


    "YEAHHHAHAHAHAAA!" the Nightkin bellowed. "TRY AND HIDE FROM THIS!" By the time I looked up from the nightstalker, Lily had already disappeared from view down one of the tunnels, her raucousughter following close behind.


    "Well?" Boone spoke up, tilting his visor down to me. "Are we going after her?" I noticed that he''d shouldered his rifle, and instead had in his hands that revolver he always kept strapped to his hip.


    "Might as well," I said, keeping Roscoe at the ready and switching my eyes back to thermal vision. "If nothing else, she''ll attract all the nightstalkers and keep them off us. She can see them, we can''t."


    So the five of us set off down the tunnel, with me in the lead. I was following a trail of rapidly cooling footprints on the floor of the cave, and relying on my sense of direction and the map making program on the Pip Boy to lead us back out of the cave again safely. The sounds ofbat, nightstalkers dying, and Lily shouting ahead of us seemed to ebb and flow; sometimes it sounded like we were catching up, only for the sounds to grow distant yet again. Every so often, I''d see a few splotches of rapidly cooling blood or faintly orange, vaguely animal-like body parts littering the walls and floor of the rocky tunnel.


    "Hold up," I heard Boone say from the back. "Something''s wrong." I turned to look back at the massed blobs of heat behind me, all of them so tightly packed together that I could barely tell the difference between them.


    "What do you mean?" I asked, not sure what he was talking about. I could see a slightly cooler splotch... and then it urred to me to switch away from heat vision. A pair of shester, and my eyes switched back to night vision. And then I realized what Boone had in his hands... "That''s..."


    "Lily''s sun hat." he finished for me. "And the noise has stopped."


    I stayed quiet for a minute, putting my ear to the wall, as it were, and realized Boone was right. The cave had be deathly and suspiciously quiet. And that probably meant one of two things: either Lily had killed every single nightstalker in the cave, or...


    "C''mon, lets move." I said, switching my eyes back to thermal. I started running down the tunnel, trying to catch up to the footprints before they disappeared from the heat visionpletely.


    The next thing I knew, the tunnel widened considerably into arge natural atrium. All around the floor of the cave, I could seerge pools of cooling blood andrge hot chunks of meat and bone and nightstalker parts. At the very back of the cavern, I saw arge figure - presumably Lily - hunched over something, but I couldn''t quite tell what it was... until I saw the reddish-orange mass of the super mutant''s head rear back, with a thick trail of what was unmistakably hot meat trailing out of her mouth. She was gnashing and snarling, digging into the blob of heat in front of her, and sshing hot blood against the walls.


    "Lily?" I said aloud. If nothing else, it got the attention of the feasting super mutant. Lily''s head snapped towards me, and her eyes were two white hot pinpoints in the blob of heat that was her head. The super mutant sprang to her feet and rushed towards me; it felt like time slowed down without VATS kicking in. I couldn''t tell if she was trying to say anything to me, but all I heard was a loud, low, guttural growling noise that reverberated off the walls of the cavern. Behind me, I felt my friends behind me all take at least a step back, and even ED-E made a series of beeps that sounded surprisingly worried. Or maybe it wasn''t surprising...


    "LILY!" I finally shouted, standing my ground as the super mutant continued to rush towards me. "Snap out of it!" For a second, I thought my gamble wasn''t going to pay off, and I was going to be a dark smear on the cave wall. But just before Lily reached me, she stopped dead in her tracks. She loomed over me, standing at her full height (which I must say, was considerable) breathing heavily, and staring at me with those white hot points of light in her head. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like she was standing over me for years. Eventually, her breathing softened, and she started to stagger back, and hunched over. She brought a massive hand up and clutched her head. Even with the thermal vision active, I could tell that her hand was shaking when she brought it to her forehead.


    "I... uh..." Lily shook her head. I switched my eyes to night vision. "I''m sorry... about that. I''m feeling... a bit out of sorts, dear." She ced her other hand on my shoulder, and it felt like just by leaning on me she was going to rip my arm out of its socket. I couldn''t think of anything else to do except brace myself, and pat her hand in what I hoped was aforting gesture.


    "What''s going on?" I heard Veronica whisper behind me.


    "Don'' look at me, I dunno what th'' fuck''s goin'' on..." Cass whispered back in reply. Boone came up behind me, and handed Lily her hat. Thankfully, she lifted her hand off my shoulder, and gingerly grabbed her hat with a shaking hand.


    "I hope you children don''t mind, but your grandma isn''t feeling well. I''m just... I think I''m going to sit down for a few minutes..." Lily walked away and sat down near the mouth of the atrium, the ground shaking slightly. She just sat there, clutching her sun hat in her massive, trembling hands. For some reason, seeing her sitting there made me feel... sad. I know it sounds stupid, since just a moment ago, it looked like she was ready to bash my skull in. But seeing her like this really drove the point home of just how deep the schizophrenia ran.


    Before I could carry on being contemtive, I was broken out of my reverie by a series of beeps and whistles off to my right. ED-E was hovering close to the center of the atrium, and now that my eyes weren''t only seeing heat, I could see some very important details that I missed before.


    Lying on the ground of the cave was a dead Nightkin - at least, I''m pretty sure that it had been a Nightkin once upon a time. The mutant''s body had been mangled almost beyond recognition, like it had been gnawed on, and there was parts of it that had swollen massively around a number of bite marks. Lying next to the Nightkin corpse were two objects. The first was a massive super sledge, bigger than any I''d ever seen before. Of course, I didn''t get that long to look at it, because what happened next was something very predictable.


    "Oh, baby!" Veronica had appeared out of nowhere beside me and picked up the super sledge. "Ooh, got some weight on ya, don''t you just? Little rusty, but... nothing a little love won''t cure." It shouldn''t still surprise me how easily she can heft up objects that look like they weigh as much as she does. But it still does.


    "Found a new toy then, have you?" I said, kneeling down to take a look at the second object next to the dead Nightkin. It was a small metal disk with a keypad on the top, a row of lights running down the side, a few exposed wires, and a small reflective metal dish perched on top - a stealth boy. Like the Nightkin, it looked like it had been chewed on by nightstalkers. I turned it over in my hands, and got up off the floor, showing it to everyone.


    "I think we just found out why these nightstalkers are invisible."


    Thunk.


    "What''s this?" Doctor Henry picked up the stealth boy I dropped onto his desk, unsure of why I was showing it to him.


    "I think this is why the nightstalkers are invisible. I found it all chewed up like that in the heart of the nightstalkerir, next to a dead Nightkin." Henry looked a bit skeptical at first, then furrowed his brow, studying the device. He turned it upside down, took a small screwdriver from a drawer below his desk, and popped open a small panel on the bottom of the stealth boy.


    "Hmm..." Henry snapped the panel closed, and set the stealth boy back on the desk. "Well, it still has power, amazingly enough. With that cracked casing... Frankly, I''m astonished that exposure to the stealth radiation could induce mutations in the nightstalkers so rapidly."


    "Radiation? Hang on, does... I mean, stealth radiation isn''t... it''s not harmful, is it?" I starting eyeing the stealth boy warily - radiation was never a good thing, and I''d kept it hooked onto my belt the whole way back! I took somefort in that the Geiger counter on my Pip Boy hadn''t clicked at all, but still... Henry just shook his head.


    "No. I mean, it''s <em>possible</em>, but I''ve yet to see any hard evidence or hear of any cases where humans were negatively affected by stealth boy use, or stealth radiation. Any negative effects have only ever been found in Nightkin - and nightstalkers now, apparently. More to the point, if this cracked stealth boy is the reason for the invisible nightstalkers, then this exins why my research into this group hasn''te up with a cure for the Nightkin. Which means I only have one avenue of research left..."


    "Which is?" I asked. Frankly, it was none of my business, but I''de too far to not be curious.


    "I need to run the Mark II test on Lily. It''s the only way. I just wish it wasn''t so... risky."


    "Risky?" I asked. "What''s risky about it?"


    "The stealth field for the Mark II prototype has been specifically modted to use less power and, as a result,sts much longer than a normal stealth boy. For some reason this also means that the negative effects on the user are greatly pronounced - up to a factor of five or more, if my math is correct. These pronounced effects will allow me to pinpoint exactly what parts of the brain the stealth boy is affecting... but unfortunately, I''ll need to run the test on a live subject... and the test could potentially cause immediate and permanent mental damage."


    "So, why do you need to use Lily?" My mind shed back to the image of Lily sitting huddled in a corner in a darkened cave, clutching at her hat with trembling hands.


    "There are a couple of reasons. For one, Lily is entric, certainly, but I''ve never felt that she was too dangerous." Another image shed in my head - one of Lily rushing towards me with white-hot eyes and a trail of blood spilling from her mouth. Maybe I wasn''t seeing the whole picture, but I didn''t exactly agree with that sentiment. He went on. "More importantly, she asked if she could help my research in some way. I''ve told her about the risks, and she still insists."


    "Well, I am sorry that this lead with the nightstalkers appears to be a dead end, and you now have to pursue the Mark II stealth boy project. Really, I am. But does this mean you''re going to help us with Rex now?" I asked, trying to make sure he hadn''t forgotten about the real reason I was helping him. I looked around Henry''s office, and finally saw Rex, fast asleep on one of the examination beds.


    "<em>Going</em> to help? Are you implying that I haven''t done anything?" The old scientist looked and sounded insulted. "While you were off gallivanting in the hills pursuing a lead that I could not, I was busy examining Rex and running several high-level diagnostics on his cybeics and circuitry. And, aside from general wear and tear with his joints - which is to be expected with a specimen of his age - my initial assessment was correct. His brain is suffering from an advanced case of neural degradation. If left untreated, his brain will continue to decay at an exponential rate. A year from now, he will be totally andpletely brain-dead."


    "Is there anything you can do?" I asked, looking over to Rex. The dog''s chest was slowly rising and falling, and his tail twitched every so often.


    "There is a procedure that can save him, yes. I can reconfigure one of the machines here to scan his brainwaves, and copy the neural pathways onto a holotape. There is one small problem."


    "Juste out with it," I gripped the bridge of my nose in exasperation, waiting for the anvil to fall out of the sky.


    "If this is going to work, I''m going to need to rece both the bio-med gel in his brain case, and rece his brain with a fresh one. The gel I have enough of - but what I don''t have is a suitable canine brain I can use as a recement."


    "And where exactly is he going to get a recement brain at this hour, Henry?" Arcade spoke up behind me, making me jump slightly. I hadn''t even heard hime up behind me.


    "There''s a woman I know in Novac who can probably help with that. Not that this hour, obviously." Henry stated simply to the younger doctor. Arcade merely looked confused.


    "What, you mean Daisy? Daisy Whitman? She won''t know where to get a dog brain." Arcade stated tly. Henry just shook his head.


    "No, I''m not talking about Warrant Officer Whitman," a brief sh of worry crossed over Arcade''s face, but Henry didn''t seem worried about it and continued. "I''m talking about a woman who lives just outside Novac - Gibson. Last time I met her, she was caring for nearly half a dozen hounds of roughly the right size. If she''s willing to give one of the older ones up in the name of science, then it should prove a suitable recement brain."


    "I think I know who you''re talking about," I said, trying to ignore the ghoulish task I knew he was setting me up to perform. "This Gibson woman - does she own a shop that used to be a garage? Lots of broken down cars everywhere?" Henry nodded. "Yeah, I know her. I bought a thrust control module off her for some ghouls that wanted to go into space."


    Henry just sort of stared at me for a minute, one white eyebrow raised over hisrge, thick rimmed spectacles.


    "Yeah, that sounds about right. If you can get me a brain for Rex, I should have all the machinery ready by tomorrow. And with any luck, I''ll also be able to run the Mark II test sometime tomorrow as well. There are several machines that will require more precise calibration before I can perform the tests..."


    "I guess it''s a good thing we got a ce to stay tonight, then," I said, nodding. "I''ll head out in the morning. I just hope Veronica found some microfusion cells for my car, that''s about..." I checked the map on my Pip Boy and figured out the distance in my head. "... yeah, that''s about 160 miles there and back." I''d have to leave pretty early if I wanted to be back before noon.


    I said goodbye to Henry and Arcade, and started to make my way out of his office. As I was about to leave, however...


    "So, how do you know this Gibson woman, anyway?" I heard Arcade ask Henry from behind me. I nced over my shoulder just in time to see Doctor Henry shrug and smile ever so smugly.


    "Well, she and I joined the same caravan about a decade ago when we were heading east. Add in a bit of whiskey and... well... you could say we got to know each other."


    "OH GOD!" Arcade clutched his head, and he looked about ready to have an aneurysm. "I can''t KNOW that! Why would you tell me that?!"


    "You asked."


    I closed the door to Henry''s office, and just startedughing to myself.

 Chapter 32: Stories of Days Gone By

    Chapter 32: Stories of Days Gone By


    <em>I found myself in the middle of a casino. I couldn''t really tell which casino... the lights and the general decor reminded me of The Tops - before it was covered in blood and bullet holes - but the color scheme reminded me of the Lucky 38. And when I looked down, it felt like the patterns on the carpet were moving, just like the carpets in Bazooko''s Circus. The air was filled with the sounds of a Frank Sinatra song... or was it Dean Domino? Maybe it was Kay Kyser... For some reason I couldn''t understand, I couldn''t concentrate on any details. </em>


    <em>The ce felt so familiar, and yet somehow so very distant from familiarity. Individual pieces about the decor, the people standing around gambling, the musicing through the loudspeakers... I recognized where they belonged, but they all belonged to different ces. Before I could make any sense of my surroundings, I noticed a man in a grey suit, sunsses, and greasy hair walking towards me. It looked like he was one of the Chairmen... But weren''t they all dead?</em>


    <em>"Sheason Fisher?" the man asked. Without thinking, I nodded. "Your presence is requested at the main roulette table."</em>


    <em>"Who''s requesting my presence?" I asked. The man didn''t answer. He just turned and walked back into the crowd. I guess if I wanted to find out what was going on, I''d have to locate this roulette table.</em>


    <em>It didn''t take long to find. I just started walking through the casino, and looked around for the biggestmotion. I don''t know why, but that seemed like the way to go. It felt like I had to push my way past hundreds of people just to get close. When I finally got within sight of the roulette table, I saw something else: a familiar ck and white checkered jacket.</em>


    <em>"Ah, there you are," Benny turned to face me when I arrived, a smile on his face and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He pped me on the back like we were old pals, and motioned me towards the table. I didn''t find it quite as unnerving as I felt like I should. "You''re just in time, daddy-o. They''ve been at it like this for a long time."</em>


    <em>"Who has?" I asked. Benny just smirked and motioned with his head for me to look up. If I said I was quite surprised, it wouldn''t really do my emotions justice.</em>


    <em>Standing at one end of the table, wearing a ck suit, a blue striped tie, and an NCR g pin on hispel was Aaron Kimball, President of the NCR. His appearance - square jaw, thin pointed nose, the high-and-tight ha</em><em>ircut of an ex-military man whose mind was still military </em><em>- was exactly as I expected. Behind him had to be half a dozen NCR veteran rangers, wearing that ck Armor Boone had mentioned the other day. Kimball was standing in front of a pile of red casino chips, each one emzoned with the image of a bear skull; the whole mountain was bet on ck.</em>


    <em>Of course, if I was surprised by Kimball ying roulette, I was doubly surprised by the man with his mountain of chips bet on red: Caesar. He looked exactly the same as he had when I''d met him at the Fort, with a red sash draped over both his shoulders, a metal chest te, and a goldenurel of leaves crowning his head. Behind him were just as many Legion Praetorians as there were NCR Rangers behind Kimball. Caesar had a mountain of chips just asrge as Kimball''s, except his were ck, with the image of a golden bull emzoned on the face.</em>


    <em>They weren''t the only two standing at the table, though. Leaning on the table like he owned it was a man I recognized - The King. Of course, he was the only one I recognized. There was a man next to him with silvery hair, wearing an odd blue robe with bits of metal and wires acting as a sort of weird trim. An old woman wearing a Vault suit and a Pip Boy was standing next to him, her white hair was pulled back into a bun; she was wearing some kind of old world military jacket over her vault suit, with a whole myriad of patches and medals and ribbons pinned in seemingly random ces. Hanging around her neck was a ne of spent shell casings. She was also resting an old 40mm pump action grenadeuncher on her shoulder. Standing next to them - but closer to Caesar than the rest - was a huge man with an equally huge ck beard, wearing what looked like some kind of armored leather vest draped in animal furs; resting on his head was an old motorcycle helmet with horns on each side and a spike on top.</em>


    <em>"They''ve been ying for the future of Vegas," Benny said as we came up behind the croupier taking the bets and spinning the roulette wheel. I noticed with a wry sense of amusement that the spinner in the center of the roulette wheel was styled to look like the Lucky 38 -plete with windows and tiny little lights blinking along the sides. "But the funny thing? Even if one of them manages to win, they''ll all still lose. Because the House always wins."</em>


    <em>I couldn''t work out why he emphasized the word House... until the croupier turned enough for me to get a look at him. He was wearing an exquisitely tailored tux that looked even cleaner than Kimball''s suit. It was like he''d stepped out of the old world and missed the bombspletely. His hair was dark, and parted slightly off center, and he had a fastidiously trimmed pencil thin moustache. And then, when he spoketer... there wasn''t any question as to who he was. This was Robert House.</em>


    <em>"So, what do you say Courier?" Benny offered me one of his cigarettes. "What do you say you and me show these crumbs how yers get it done?" I took one of the cigarettes, and searched my pockets for a lighter... but I couldn''t find one.</em>


    <em>"What''s the point?" I asked. "It''s roulette - that''s a fools game. Like you said, the House''ll always win. The only winning move is not to y." Benny just chuckled under his breath.</em>


    <em>"Normally, that''s true," He reached into his jacket, and pulled out his lighter. "But sometimes you have to rig the game from the start. You get the scam I''m spinnin''?" He flicked open the Zippo, and to the casual observer I''m sure it merely looked like he was just lighting my smoke... but inside the lighter, I saw something. It was a number: 13. I looked over to Benny with a questioning nce. He just kept smiling, and nodded almost imperceptibly.</em>


    <em>"This will be the final spin of the night,dies and gentlemen," I heard House say in a voice that seemed insufferably smug. "If you wish to ce your bets, I suggest you do so now."</em>


    <em>Part of me just wanted to turn around, and walk away - it''s not like I had any real investment in what happened in the Mojave. This whole game, with nations fighting each other, and people''s fates hanging in the bnce, this wasn''t me. This wasn''t what I wanted to do. All I really wanted to do was... </em>


    <em>I don''t know. It suddenly hit me that I didn''t actually know what I wanted to do.</em>


    <em>"You better make your decision all quick like, Courier," Benny said from behind me. "You''re running out of time, and fast."</em>


    <em>I turned to ask him what he meant, but I couldn''t see him - what I saw instead was the casino, slowly being devoured by a ck abyss. The walls were cracking and breaking apart, spinning like the roulette wheel, and falling into nothing. The slot machines and craps tables were tipping into the darkness, and the people who touched the ck nothing dissolved into sand and disappeared.</em>


    <em>"Will there be any more bets,dies and gentlemen?" House said from behind me. </em>


    <em>I made a decision. I stepped up to the table, and pulled the tinum Chip out of my pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benny grab House and toss him aside like a ragdoll. I put the Chip down on 13, and Benny spun the wheel. Time felt like it slowed down as the ball spun round the wheel. The ball started to lose momentum... and slid gracefully into pocket 13.</em>


    <em>The people around the table - Kimball, Caesar, The King, and all the rest - dissolved into sand and disappeared. The table dissolved as well, until the only two things left standing in the ck abyss were Benny and me. He didn''t seem bothered about standing in the middle of nothing. He just kept smoking.</em>


    <em>"You can only dy for so long, Courier. The Bear and Bull are going to butt heads at the dam, and nothing is going to stop that scrap. That fight is drawing closer every day. Eventually, you''re going to have to make that choice for real. And if you want my advice?" He tossed the cigarette away, and it disappeared. He reached into his coat, and pulled out the tinum Chip, tossing it towards me. I caught it without thinking. "My advice is you make that choice... for you. Not for Kimball. Not for Caesar. And definitely not for House. If you don''t make the choice yourself, then someone else''ll make that choice for you. And you might not like whates next. Dig?"</em>


    My eyes snapped open, and it took a minute to get my bearings. I was lying on a bed in a darkened room - one of the cabins in Jacobstown that Marcus had provided as a thank you for getting rid of the mercenaries. I tried looking around to see where I''d put my Pip Boy, so I could get a look at the time... and then realized it was still on my wrist. Had I fallen asleep still wearing it? Maybe I was getting more used to it than I thought.


    It was just shy of 2 am, on Sunday, October the 30th, 2281, ording to the clock on the Pip Boy. Part of me wanted to just get back to sleep. I didn''t wake up in a cold sweat, and I wasn''t jerked awake like I was punched in the gut... in fact, waking up this time around was a much more pleasant and agreeable affair than normal. But despite that, I knew I wasn''t going to get back to sleep any time soon.


    So, I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed my jeans, my shirt, my jacket, my boots, my guns... and went for a walk.


    Jacobstown at night is probably one of the most beautiful ces I''ve ever seen. Granted, that isn''t exactly saying much when so much else is still irradiated ruins or concrete urban centers built with scraps and whatever else is to hand. But still - nice ce to be, all things considered.


    Everything was bathed in the blue light of a still mostly-full moon. There was a smattering of clouds in the sky  mostly hanging around the peak of the mountain, still looking more like fog than anything else  and the stars shone brightly down through the gaps in the cloud cover. The wind rustled through the trees... but that wasn''t all that was in the air. Heavy footfalls. Movement in the distance. Apparently, Jacobstown was just as busy in the middle of the night as it was in the day.


    That was about when I came across Marcus. He was sitting with his back to me on a metal bench in the center of town. A pall of smoke was hanging around his head, illuminated from above by a single working streemp.


    "Man. A super mutant with a cigar? Now I''ve seen everything," I said, leaning on the back of the bench. Marcus turned around to look at me with a raised... well, to be honest, he doesn''t exactly have eyebrows, so the effect of looking at me with a raised eyebrow was kind of lost. He took the cigar out of his mouth, and let out a thin curl of smoke from his nostrils. "Don''t you ever sleep?"


    "Do you?" he asked with a smirk. I shrugged and sat down next to him.


    "Not enough. At least nottely." I slumped back, letting the back of my head rest on the bench so I was looking straight up. I tried focusing on the stars, but just like in my dream, I couldn''t concentrate on any of the details.


    "You know, I think I was right about what I said earlier," Marcus took a long puff from his cigar as he spoke. "You do kind of remind me of The Chosen One. He didn''t sleep much either. For a human, I mean."


    "Yeah... you mentioned him before. What was he like?" I asked. Marcus just sort of looked at me oddly, puffing away at his cigar. I just shrugged. "I could use a distraction. Besides, you got me curious, I''d like to know who you keepparing me too. I want to know if I should be insulted or not." Thankfully, Marcus got the joke, and he just chuckled.


    "You shouldn''t be insulted. The Chosen One was a pretty cool guy. A bit... out there, sometimes. But overall, a nice guy."


    "Out there?" I asked. "What do you mean?" Marcus smiled to himself.


    "Let me put it to you like this - I remember this one time we had to get in this secure Enve instation, guarded by men in powered armor andser rifles and all that good stuff, right? And he decides the best thing to do is strip downpletely naked and run around the ce, yelling at the top of his lungs to cause enough of a distraction to let John and me get in without any trouble."


    I think my brain stopped for a minute, trying to process what I''d just heard.


    "Wait, what? That... that''s insane!" Marcus just continued smiling.


    "Yeah, he was definitely a bit bonkers. But I ampletely serious. And do you know the craziest thing? That mad son of a bitch came out the other side without a single scratch on him. Every single one of those powered armored bastards that tried to shoot at him had their guns blow up in their faces. Never seen anything like it before or since."


    "So, how do I remind you of that? I''ve never done... anything even remotely that ridiculous. Ever." I thought about it, and most of the ridiculous things I''d done in the past involved me running for dear life away from something ridiculous, not causing the insanity myself.


    "It''s not you being ridiculous, it''s a couple of little things, honestly. Mostly what reminds me are the stories about you that I keep hearing on the radio. Whenever he did anything, it seemed like, everyone in the wastnd had heard about it before we''d even got to where we were going," Marcus said. "Plus, he drove around everywhere like you seem to."


    "Really? Was his car a Corvega like mine?"


    "Nah, he called it a Highwayman," Marcus took the cigar out of his mouth and blew out a series of smoke rings. "And keep in mind, this was before the NCR established itself and started rebuilding the roads, and way before cars started getting moremon up north."


    "I''m surprised you fit in his car," I said. And then quickly added "No offense."


    "None taken. I know what I look like. I''m an ugly mutant, and big son of a bitch, too. I filled up the whole backseat. John always took shotgun, though. Which was kind of fitting, since that was his weapon of choice." I couldn''t help but chuckle.


    "I guess it must run in the family," I said. "Cass always calls shotgun whenever she can get it."


    "Yeah... There''s a lot about that girl that takes after her old man. The love of shotguns, the love of whiskey... It''s too bad she never found out what happened to him."


    "What, do you know what happened to her dad?" I asked. Marcus just shook his head.


    "No, that''s the trouble. A little after we nuked the oil rig, everyone who followed The Chosen One just sort of... drifted apart. Dogmeat, Cassidy, Vic, Lenny, Miria, Sk... even Goris the albino deathw. Never found out what happened to any of them after we grabbed the GECK and brought it back to Arroyo."


    "... An albino deathw." Part of me was wondering if I''d somehow passed out again and was just imagining all of this.


    "Yup," Marcus just continued on, unphased by my question. "I thought she might know what happened to her old man, but apparently she''s just as in the dark about it as I am. Shame."


    "Did that Chosen One dude seriously travel with that many people? And how the hell did a deathw fit in a car? What, was it a convertible?"


    "Not at first." Marcus said with a smirk. I justughed. "Actually, that''s another thing about you that reminds me of him. He liked to collect people, too."


    "I don''t collect people," I said, straightening up a bit in the bench. Marcus just shook his head slightly.


    "Yeah. You''re just travelling with an eyebot, a drunken caravan boss, a Brotherhood of Steel scribe, an NCR 1st Recon sniper, and scientist from the Followers of the Apocalypse." Marcus looked smug, puffing away at his cigar. "Sure you don''t collect people."


    "Hang on, how did you know Veronica''s a member of the Brotherhood?" I asked. Marcus just shrugged, and tightened one of the vices on his orange shoulderte.


    "Kid, I''ve probably forgotten more about the Brotherhood than any of you have ever known, and it was all thanks to an old friend. The name of this ce, Jacobstown? I named it after Jacob, a Steel Knight. He and I used to talk for... days. About everything. Found out everything I know about the Brotherhood from him."


    "I thought the Brotherhood hated mutants." Marcus chuckled softly to himself as I said that, like he wasughing at a joke only he was in on.


    "Yeah, well... that''s a long story. Want it short, or the whole thing?"


    "I got plenty of time. Let''s hear it."


    "Alright. This was after the Master and the FEV vats were destroyed. Didn''t have anywhere to go. One day, I was wandering the desert... some damn ce, out in the middle of nowhere, I don''t know. What I do remember is the sun - dead set above me in the center of the sky. Next thing I know, I see this fool in powered armoring towards me."


    "Really?" I asked. Marcus nodded.


    "That was Jacob. a Knight of the Brotherhood. Apparently, he''d sworn some oath to destroy muties. Well, we tussled for a while... Heh... Probably a day or two. I lost track, honestly. It started off simple enough. He shot at me, I shot back. That went on for a while, the both of us running and shooting, that kind of thing. Eventually, we both ran out of bullets, so we tried to beat the crap out of each other with whatever was close - and after everything else got broken, we just started beating on each other with our fists. Days of this went on, and neither of us could get the upper hand. After a while, we just startedughing. What was the point?"


    "So... what? You two just decided to stop trying to kill each other and be friends?"


    "Something like that, yeah. After we stopped fighting, the two of us just... started walking. Walking, and talking, and arguing. What else were we gonna do, right? Next thing the two of us know, other people started following us. Guess they figured if they weren''t safe with a mutie and a Steel Knight, safe just wasn''t going to happen."


    "So what happened next?"


    "The two of us and whoever else was following found an old uranium mine. We built a town around it, and named it Broken Hills. Everybody was wee - human, ghoul, mutant, didn''t matter, long as they acted right. Kind of like here, really." Marcus took a long draw from his cigar; when I''d arrived, the cigar looked like it had only just been lit, and now it looked like there was only half of it un-smoked.


    "So what happened to Jacob?" Marcus just shrugged.


    "Dunno. We founded Broken Hills in the summer of 2185. When spring came the next year... he said goodbye and moved on. Never saw him again." Marcus sighed. "I still miss that hard-head."


    The two of us just sat on that bench under the street light in silence for quite a while before either of us said anything else. When it finally came, it was Marcus that broke the silence.


    "It''s been a long time since I told that story. A very long time. Not many people are curious enough to ask."


    "Let me guess..." I said, rubbing my chin in mock contemtion. "Thest person to ask you was The Chosen One." Marcus chortled.


    "D''you know? He was." The two of us started chuckling softly... but then Marcus stopped, and looked off into the darkness. "Hey, Sheason?" He said eventually. "Do you think you can do me a favor?"


    "It all depends on the favor, but probably. What''s up?" I asked. Marcus took the stub of cigar out of his mouth, and gestured with it to a spot off in the distance.


    "Do you think you could talk to Lily? She was a bit shaken up after your trip into the nightstalker cave, and wouldn''t say why."


    I looked to where he was pointing, and switched my eyes into nightvision. Everything was bathed in green, and I could see that he was pointing towards the bighorner pens. Lily was there, standing next to one of the bighorner calves. The super mutant in the sun hat was gently patting its hide. She was also holding something in one of her hands, but I couldn''t quite make out what it was at this distance.


    "Alright, I''ll talk to her, but... why me? Just because she thought I was her grandson when I first met her?" I asked, switching my eyes back to normal.


    "Pretty much." Marcus said with a nod of his head. I sighed, shook my head, and got up off the bench. Before I got too far though, Marcus spoke up again. "There''s onest thing. There''s a lot about you that reminds me of the Chosen One. But there''s one thing that doesn''t. The most important thing - the thing he shared with his grandfather, the original Vault Dweller, who beat down The Master and destroyed his ns for Unity."


    "And what''s that?" I was getting quite curious, now.


    "Conviction. Some men heed the call to action, and can rise above it all. But most just run away. Jacob heard the call and embraced it. So did the Vault Dweller. So did the Chosen One. All of them fought for what they believed in, and fought hard. If all humans fought for what they believed in like that, we wouldn''t have needed the Master''s n in the first ce. And I don''t see that conviction in you. Not yet."


    I had a lot to think about as I made my way towards the bighorner pens. I didn''t get too much time to think about it, however, because at that moment ED-E floated up near me.


    "Hey, ED-E. Guess you can''t sleep either," I said with a smirk. "Did you hear any of that?" As if in response, ED-E let out a series of four shrill beeps, and then a voice came from the speaker - just like it had a few days ago when I was helping out the ghouls go into space.


    "Downloadplete. Begin recording. Navarro outpost scientists, I am d that ED-E has reached you. You will find several databanks of information on this machine. Please handle this information with the utmost care as it represents the sum total of the results of my research on the Duraframe Eyebots. There are also several databanks with information on my research into Poseidon Energy and some projects they were working on in the Mojave area."


    Like before, the voice ended just as suddenly as it began.


    "ED-E, what the fuck was that? Seriously," I asked. In response, ED-E bobbed to the side, and let out a few beeps and whistles. I shook my head. "I don''t know why I keep asking you questions, I can''t understand the responses."


    ED-E kept following me. He''d probably been following me since I left my cabin, but now he was being a bit more obvious about it. When I finally got close to Lily, she had her back to me and I heard some odd voices. I thought for a minute that ED-E was broadcasting another recording - but it was actuallying from the small metal device in her hand: a holotape recorder.


    "Grandma''s here!" I heard a young girl''s voice, followed by a pair of children yelling in joy and excitement.


    "Oh, my goodness!" I heard an old woman speak up from the holotape speaker. "Look at these little angels. Becky, that dress looks so lovely. And Jimmy! Oh, my word, how you''ve grown."


    "I''m four whole feet, grandma!" I heard a young boys voice.


    "Did you bring us presents, grandma?" The girl spoke up again.


    "Well now, I don''t know," the old woman spoke up again. "Have you been good to your mommy and daddy?"


    "Yes!" Both the boy and girl spoke up simultaneously.


    "Well then..." the grandma started speaking again, but before she could say anything else the recording ended in static. Lily hit one of the buttons and put the recorder away.


    "Lily?" I asked, trying not to be too surprising. The super mutant turned to look at me, and I could tell she was trying to smile behind the leather face harness.


    "Hello again, dear!" Lily''s gravelly voice rumbled, in stark contrast to the voice of the sweet olddy on the recording. "What can your grandma do for you?"


    "I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a bit shaken up after we got back... especially after what happened in the cave. Are you alright?" Lily took a massive hand, and patted me on the shoulder; it was like she was trying to be gentle, but it still felt like someone smacking a tent spike with a sledgehamer.


    "Oh, pumpkin, grandma''s sorry about that. Sometimes she gets mad and... listens to Leo when she really shouldn''t. The medicine is supposed to help with that, but sometimes grandma doesn''t take it."


    "Medicine?" I asked, and then I remembered - she''d said something about medicine when I''d first met her. "What kind of medicine are you taking?"


    "Doctor Henry calls them ''anti-psy-ko-tiks.'' I don''t really know what they''re supposed to do. I don''t take it all the time."


    "Why not?" I asked. Lily sighed. It was a deep, grumbling sound.


    "Sometimes, it makes grandma forget things... she doesn''t want to forget, pumpkin," With that, she pulled the holotape recorder out of the medical box she had strapped to her chest. "That''s why I have this."


    "Yeah, I heard a bit of that. What is it?"


    "This is a holotape from thest time I visited my grandkids," Lily said, looking down at the machine in her hands. I was a bit surprised with how carefully she cradled it in her massive hands. "Such sweet little children, you know. Little angels. Sometimes... sometimes it''s hard to remember them. I take this old tape out from time to time and... listen."


    "And that''s why you don''t take your medicine all the time?" I asked. Lily nodded slowly.


    "It keeps me calm, but... it makes my memory go all fuzzy. That''s why I only take my dosage every other time." Lily made a noise... I couldn''t quite tell what it was. It sounded like it could''ve been her trying tough softly... but it sounded a bit like soft sobbing. I couldn''t tell.


    "That way, at least... I can remember their faces..."

 Chapter 33: Live and Let Die

    Chapter 33: Live and Let Die


    <em>Good morning Mojave, and it''s looking to be a lovely day out there in the wastnd today. You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, and this is Mr. New Vegas, bringing you the melodious sounds of the world before. Got some Dean Dominoing upter on in the program, but right now it''s "Let The Bright Tomorrow In" by that starlet of sweet, sweet music, Vera Keys.</em>


    "You sure you guys aren''t gonna get too bored while I''m gone? I mean, I''m just going down to Novac, so I shouldn''t be too long, but if you guys want to tag along..." I asked Veronica , but she just smiled and shook her head.


    "Don''t worry about it. We all have plenty to keep us busy up here for a few hours while you''re off finding a brain." The way she seemed so epting of the idea that I needed to find a dog so I could give it''s brain over to Doc Henry... All I could do was shake my head.


    "I still can''t believe I have to find a dog''s brain. When the fuck did my life get so weird?" Veronica just shrugged.


    "I dunno, but I''ll be honest - finding a recement brain for a cyberdog? Not the weirdest thing you could be doing. Hell, there''s some weird shit I''ve had to do for the Brotherhood in the past... not that they''d ever find anything odd with it." Veronica shrugged, and just smiled wider. "But what can you do? Just take it in stride, and keep smiling. That''s what I do!"


    "I envy you for that." I turned to ED-E floating next to me. "So, what do you say buddy? You following me?" ED-E bobbed in the air and chirped happily. "Alright, cool. Let''s get the fuck out of here." I started walking toward where I''d parked my car, but before I got too far...


    "Hey Sheason? Head''s up!" I turned just in time to see arge bup sack hurtling through the air straight at my face. I felt myself grimace, and I leaned back quick as I could; the sack seemed to follow my face before I reached up and snatched it.


    "What the hell, V! What''s this?" I asked. She just looked surprised - and pleased - at me.


    "That was a nice catch. And that is a sack full of microfusion cells. Should keep the car running for a good long while." I looked in the back, and it was indeed full of MF cells - and a few small energy cells, and I think one electron charge pack.


    "Thanks. I didn''t think you''d actually be able to find anything, to be honest."


    "Hey, it''s me!" She pounded her chest and gave me a thumbs up. "Give me enough time, I can find anything. You can owe meter."


    "I''ll keep that in mind. C''mon ED-E, let''s get out of here." With a mechanical chirp, ED-E followed me as I made my way to where I''d parked my car. Before I got a chance to leave however, I heard a voice try and get my attention.


    "Hey, Courier! Hold on a minute!" The voice I heard was gravelly, but not like a super mutant. It was the kind of destroyed-vocal-cords you got from ghouls. I turned around just in time to see a female ghoul with thin wisps of red hair, grey pants, and a brown leather jacket walking towards me.


    "Yes? Can I help you?" I asked. And then it hit me - it took me a minute to recognize her without thebcoat. "Hang on, you''re Henry''s assistant, aren''t you?" She nodded.


    "Yeah. I was wondering - can I hitch a lift? The doc asked me to pick up a few materials for Rex''s operation - and the Stealth Boy Mark II test - and I gotta go down into the valley to pick them up. Nevermind that it''d take me the better part of two days to get down there and back on foot, he only just told me this morning."


    "Sure," I said with a shrug, checking the map on my Pip Boy. "Westside''s on the way, so it won''t be any trouble. I''ll drop you off wherever you want, pick you up after I find a, er... brain. Sound good?" She nodded and I got in the Corvega. "Alright then, get in."


    ED-E sped off ahead of me before I''d ever got the car started. When we got underway, clear of the Jacobstown gates and onto Kyle Caynon road, I decided to try and make conversation with my ghoul passenger.


    "So, I never did catch your name back in Doc Henry''sb," I said. "I''m Sheason. You know, so you don''t have to keep calling me Courier, right?"


    "Well, it''s nice to meet you Sheason," the ghoul rasped. "I''m Cmity."


    "Cmity?" I asked. She nodded. "That''s an..." I paused, searching for the right word. "... interesting name."


    "Why thank you," Cmity smiled, what little there was left of her lips cracking and pulling taught. "I picked it myself."


    "What? Wait, what?"


    "Yeah. I change names and jobs every decade or so. Keeps things from getting too boring. I picked Cmity this time because I thought it sounded nice. And as for being Henry''s assistant... I''ve never really done much science stuff until now, but apparently I''m pretty good at it. Or so the good doctor tells me."


    "That... makes sense. I guess. For a minute I thought your parents had named you Cmity." She shook her head.


    "Nah, they weren''t big enough hippies to do that. Probably. I''ll be honest, I don''t really remember what my original name was."


    "What, really?" I asked. "You don''t know your real name?" She just shrugged.


    "What''s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. And a ghoul by any other name would look just as hideous." She brought a leathery hand up to her mouth, and made a noise; I wasn''t sure if it was augh or a cough. Now, I had to admit... she had a point. Not that I''d ever say something like that out loud or to anybody''s face. Still, I hate it when someone starts slinging insults their own way, and... well...


    You know when you have one of those awful moments where it feels like there''s a loose connection between your brain and mouth? And by the time you realize what you''re saying, it''s alreadye out, and you''ve already said it? And then you just take a step back and think to yourself: "That just happened. That was me saying that. That seriously just came out of my mouth."


    This was one of those moments.


    "Hey now, don''t put yourself down, saying things like that. Good lookin'' gal like yourself? You look great, c''mon!"


    I can''t really me her, but Cmity just sort of looked at me like I''dpletely lost my nut... and then she startedughing. There was no mistaking that for a cough or a growl, this was straight up bellyughter.


    "That''s sweet of you. I appreciate the effort, but I know what I look like. I mean, hell, there are some days it feels like my jaw''s going toe loose. If you''d said that, I dunno, couple hundred years ago maybe, I''d be more inclined to believe you. But now..."


    "Oh?"


    "Yeah. I was a helluva looker before the bombs dropped." She paused. "I think. I don''t quite remember everything from before the War. Sometimes I get bits and pieces, but it''s... not all there. Not all the time, you know?"


    There was a long silence. I focused on driving back down the mountain, and Cmity rested her head on her hand, looking out the passenger window as the scenery kept on rolling by. And then she broke the silence.


    "I will tell you this much - I''m absolutely positive I didn''t fuck enough when I still had skin."


    I dropped Cmity off outside one of Westside''s gates - near a big sign that pointed down at a manhole cover and said, in arge sign made out of bits of scrap metal and red paint: "THE THORN." I told her that I''d be back in about two hours. Before I drove off, I made a mental note to check up on that Thorn ce at some point in the future. I don''t know why, but... there was something about the sign that was familiar. I couldn''t quite ce it.


    The drive down to Novac was surprisingly calm and uneventful - so uneventful, that I decided to stop by the Gun Runners, and see what they had in stock... just in case the drive suddenly became not calm. The way things in my life had been goingtely, I half expected to be ambushed or attacked or blown up or something. Instead, it was just a peaceful drive, just me, the car, and ED-E buzzing alongside. No sound but the rumble of the engine and the wind rushing past the car. The empty horizon stretching out in front of me, and the mountains off in the distance...


    And that''s when it hit me: sinceing to the Mojave, I hadn''t gone for a drive just for the hell of it. Since getting that damn tinum Chip, I''d only ever gotten behind the wheel when I had some ce to be.


    Back when I was still working in California, there''d be times between jobs when I would just get in my car and go for a drive - not to anywhere, not for anything, but just experience the joy of being behind the wheel and going as fast as the car could take me. Driving along I-5... no one around. Nothing to hit. Nothing to distract me. The sensation of speed and the adrenaline hit I get when I stamp my foot down on the elerator. Just... me, driving along in my metal shell. Time to think, time to work things out... and time to have fun.


    I was so lost in thought, that before I knew it, I found myself on the outskirts of Novac, pretty close to Gibson''s garage. I was about half a mile away, if that, when I realized the car was starting to shudder rather rmingly - my foot was hard down on the elerator, but the revs were erratically jerking between 4 and 7 thousand RPM. I looked at the fuel gauge, and saw that it was hovering perilously close to empty. So I pulled the car to a stop at the side of the road, and decided to walk the rest of the way. No real need to rece the cells right now, I thought, so I''d refill the car when I got back.


    The outside of Gibson''s garage was almost exactly how I remembered from a week ago. ED-E hovered next to me, softly beeping as we went along. We were about fifteen feet away from the two rusted cars leaning against one another when I saw a trio of dog heads pop up from the roof and stare at the two of us. They didn''t bark, they just sort of... stared at me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but it felt like they knew why I was here.


    "Yeah, that''s not unnerving or anything..." I said; ED-E beeped a couple of times like he was agreeing with me. I looked around the courtyard, but couldn''t see anything too out of the ordinary - except therge overhanging garage door was open. "Hello?" I called out. "Miss Gibson? Are you around here somewhere?"


    "Over here!" I heard a voice call from within the fence next to the garage. I had to tiptoe around a few scattered bits of junk littering the yard, and work around a maze of old cars. There was a sound of wrenching metal, and above me I saw Old Lady Gibson on top of one of the cars, pulling out what looked like a gearbox. She was wearing a pair of grey overalls covered in dirt and grease. "Oh, hey! You''re back!" I nodded, and she leapt down off the pile of cars with surprising agility for a woman of her age. "Looking for any more obscure and hard to find rocket parts?"


    "Not today," I shook my head. "I''m actually here on behalf of Doctor Henry." Gibson looked surprised for half a second, then leaned against the pile of cars and started taking off her oil covered gloves.


    "Doctor Henry? Now, you surely don''t mean Doctor Adolphus Henry, do you?" She just smiled to herself. "Now there''s a name I haven''t heard in years. Hard to believe he''s still alive. Then again, he was spritely enough ten years ago..." She started smiling to herself, and I coughed, trying my best not to look ufortable. "So... what does he want with little ol'' me?"


    "One of your dogs," I said, cutting to the chase. She immediately stopped smiling.


    "I''m sorry, what?" Her face was skewed up in surprise.


    "Doc Henry is trying to heal a dying cyberdog. He sent me your way because he remembered that you have lots of dogs, and... well, to be honest, he needs a brain toplete the operation." Gibson shook her head, and scoffed.


    "Now isn''t that just typical?" She folded her arms across her chest. "He never calls, he never writes, and the only time he wants anything to do with me is when he <em>needs</em> something. I should really give a piece of my mind to that assh-"


    "Hang on a sec," I said cutting her off. I resisted the urge to rub the scar on my temple, despite the headache I felt forming. "I''m just the messenger here. I don''t know anything about your past with Henry, and frankly, I don''t want nor care to get involved in other people''s personal lives. All I know is that he sent me here to get a dog, and that you might be willing to part with one. Now, I know it''s a bit ghoulish - frankly, it''s been an odd couple of days - but do you think you can help me out?"


    Gibson just stared at me silently for a while, continuing to lean against the pile of cars. Eventually though, she sighed, uncrossed her arms, and put her hands in the front pockets of her overalls.


    "As it happens, I think I might. One of my dogs, Rey, is getting pretty old. He''s gonna be 16 in a few months. His back legs have arthritis, he''s lost the sight in his right eye... I''ll probably have to put him down before long. If you promise me that Henry will send him out in a beautiful dream, and not just carve his brain out... then yes, I''ll let you take him to Henry"


    "What''s the catch?" I asked, already knowing exactly how this was going to go. She shrugged.


    "Rey''s like family... and I have other dogs to take car of. 700 caps sounds about right for the price for this favor. What do you think?" I sighed.


    "Yeah... that sounds about right.," I sighed. "Gimmie a minute, I need to grab the money from my car." I started walking away, while ED-E was hovering around the cars, beeping about something. Before I left the courtyard, I turned back to Gibson. "Just curious - is there anything you''d like me to tell Doc Henry when I get back to him?"


    "Yeah, there is something," she started walking towards me - and then socked me across the jaw. "Tell him that for me, would you?"


    "Damn, that''s a decent right hook..." I rubbed my jaw. It was a good hit, surprisingly enough from a woman of her age. Gibson just shrugged and smiled.


    "There''s a reason I lived long enough to be called ''Old Lady'' Gibson, remember."


    My car was right where I left it. Since I was here, I figured I''d change out the MF cells in the engine as well - get everything done in one go, right? But first, to find the money. I popped thetch on the trunk, and started shifting around everything - including one of the rifles I''d picked up from the Gun Runners earlier - until my cash box came in sight. I was about to start counting out the caps when ED-E hovered right next to my right ear and started beeping and whistling loudly. It was a frantic kind of beeping, almost like he was worried.


    "ED-E?" I asked, turning to face the hovering eyebot. "What''s going on?" In response, ED-E shoved his speaker grille right into my face, like he was trying to push me back a few steps. For half a second, I thought maybe ED-E had finally blown a vacuum tube, like Arcade was always trying to warn us about... And then I looked past the eyebot. Off on the other side of the highway were four figuresing over a ridge. I couldn''t make out any details about...


    My chain of thought was suddenly broken by a loud bang, and the sound of a ricochet bouncing off my car.


    "SON OF A BITCH!" I yelled. Instinctively, I dove for cover behind my car, and pulled Roscoe out of his holster. The air erupted in gunfire, and I heard what sounded like dozens of bullets whizzing through the air and ricocheting off my car. ED-E belched out some triumphant marching music that I almost didn''t hear over the gunfire before flying off. With any luck, ED-E would draw their fire and give me a chance to fight back - maybe even kill one of them with thatser of his.


    I tried to look up over my car to see who was attacking me, and maybe see if there was anything other than my car that I could use for cover. I only saw three figures now, and one of them was firing up at ED-E; the eyebot was buzzing around, popping off a few sts from hisser. The middle of the highway was littered with a row of concrete Jersey barriers, and on the other side of the highway I saw an overturned semi,plete with a cargo trailer. I slipped into VATS, taking aim with Roscoe and squeezed off a few shots... and that''s when I saw it.


    Crimson. The men attacking me were Legion.


    A bullet smashed into the corner of my car''s windshield, sending tiny shards of ss flying everywhere, and I ducked again. Roscoe wasn''t doing anything - there was a rifle that I''d picked up at the Gun Runners in my trunk, along with a couple of grenades and I -


    There was a wrenching sound of metal snapping next to me. I looked to my right, and saw there was now a massive hole in the passenger door. Whatever they were shooting me with, it had enough punch to shoot through bothyers of steel reinforced Ker inside the doors ande out the other side.


    Screw it. Roll the dice.


    As quick as I could, I reached into the open trunk of my car, and grabbed the first weapon I could see - one of the microfusion cell grenades I''d used at the Fort. In a fluid motion, I pulled the pin and tossed it as hard as I could towards the advancing Legion soldiers. I didn''t see exactly where itnded, but there was a bright green sh and a sound like a million methane bubbles exploding all at once. It was enough to obscure them from my sight - and hopefully, me from theirs - and I took the opportunity to grab the M4 carbine I''d picked up from the Gun Runners and a few more grenades from the trunk.


    I pulled back the charging handle on the old M4 with my left hand as hard as I could, and started to run - but before I got far, I was face to face with the fourth Legionnaire. He was wearing armor that looked like it had been cobbled together from fallen enemies - including what looked like a looted helmet from a set of powered armor. He was holding arge metal rod in both hands; at first I thought it was a spear, but it wasn''t sharp. There were a number of small hoses and pipes running along the rod, and there was a small me on the end.


    It felt like I couldn''t even use VATS. I brought the rifle up and pulled the trigger without even bothering to aim. The rifle barked and shed, and there were sparks everywhere, but I couldn''t tell if I''d even hit him. The Legion soldier just kept charging, bringing the metal rod up like he meant to skewer me. That''s when I realized what he was holding: a modified thermalnce - an oxyacetylene torch designed to burn through iron, steel, and concrete.


    I dodged out of the way just in time - there was a long surge of me, a burst of acrid smoke, and a shower of sparks from the end of thence next to me as the Legion soldier tried to drive it into me. He was so close I could practically smell him... if the smell of the thermalnce wasn''t overpowering everything. It felt like time slowed down, so I did the only thing I could think of: I grabbed the middle of thence, and tried to wrench it out of his hands. He held a firm grip on it, but I was able to force thence further away from me... and watched as the thermalnce burned into the concrete in a shower of sparks and foul smelling smoke, burying itself at least a foot into the ground.


    I didn''t have time to celebrate; the Legion soldier swung a massive fist towards my face. I bent backwards, dodging the swing by inches, if that. I held onto thence with my free hand, and with my right still holding onto the pistol grip of the carbine, I shoved the barrel right at the helmet''s visor and pulled the trigger. There was a bright sh from the muzzle, and the bark of the rifle discharge, but the bullets didn''t exit out the back of the helmet... it sounded more like they entered in one side, and rattled around a bit. The Legion soldier lost his grip on the spear, and fell backwards.


    A bullet impacted with the roof of my car, reminding me that I''d stayed still for too long. I didn''t have time to think, I just had time to move. Off to the side, I could hear ED-E still buzzing around, firingser sts as quick as he could. I ran for the nearest piece of cover that wasn''t my car, firing off in the general direction of the Legion soldiers. I''d just about made it, when ED-E flew right next to my head beeping frantically - there was a bang, and ED-E was knocked out of the sky,nding behind one of the Jersey barriers.


    "ED-E!" I yelled. The eyebot flew up again, his movements through the air more erratic than normal. I heard a few bullets hit the concrete barrier, and a fragment of one of the ricochets clipped me in the right shoulder, above my bicep. I cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, hiding behind the concrete block. I gripped the carbine tight, unsure of how many rounds I still had left.


    "Quickly! Surround him!" I heard one of the Legion soldiers yell. ED-E was circling above me, still trying to draw their fire. I grabbed one of the grenades, and pulled the pin.


    "Surround this, you son of a bitch..." I growled through clenched teeth, tossing the grenade over the concrete barrier. I shut my eyes and braced myself. The ground shook, and I felt a wave of heat wash over me.


    It was now or never. I emerged from the barrier before the green me of the MF cell grenade had finished dying down, and slipped into VATS as fast as I could. There were still three targets up. A Legion soldier with a rifle, one with a submachine gun, and one in the back with arge sniper rifle. None of them were wearing helmets. I took aim and fired. The one with the submachine gun was hit in the side of the head, and fell, his gun firing wildly in the air.


    I leapt over the barrier and advanced, firing at the Legionnaire with the sniper rifle. His attention was focused on ED-E, giving me a clean shot. Another burst from my M4, and his neck exploded in a shower of blood. The sniper rifle ttered to the ground, and his head smashed into a nearby rock when he fell.


    That left one Legionnaire to deal with. I swung the carbine around to aim at him, and realized with a mounting sense of dread that he had done the same to me. I squeezed the trigger, and hoped against hope that I faster on the draw. It felt like both rifles fired simultaneously. My upper left thigh screamed in pain, and I''m sure I''d been shot... but I saw the Legion soldier fall as well, blood erupting out of multiple gunshot wounds on his chest.


    The highway fell silent... until ED-E came to a stop near me, letting out a burst of victorious marching music. I let the carbine rifle fall to my side, and I finally gave myself the relief of breathing again. It was ragged and heavy, and I felt myself go lightheaded. I checked the radar on my Pip Boy. It didn''t show any more hostile contacts... but I looked at the Legion soldier with the rifle that I''d just shot, and I could see he was still moving slightly, not quite dead.


    I looked around, and walked over to the dead Legionnaire who''d shot at me with the sniper rifle - and saw that it wasn''t really a sniper rifle. It was like one of those four-foot long rifles I''d seen at the gun runners: a .50 caliber anti-materiel rifle, designed and built before the war to disable tanks. No wonder they''d been able to shoot through my car so easily. I shouldered the M4, and I picked up the massive rifle, checking the magazine. Four of the massive .50 cal rounds had been fired, leaving four left.


    I walked over the Legion soldier lying on the ground - he was still moving, desperately trying to reach for the rifle that had fallen nearby. I finally got a look at the rifle - like the carbine slung across my back, it was some kind of marksman carbine, but the foregrip was lined with air vents and four Picatinny tactical rails. A scope was mounted on the top rail. I kicked it away from his hands and nted my boot on his chest. He winced, and a trail of blood started to leak out of his mouth.


    "You know, for a group that ims to hate technology, this is some pretty impressive kit you got here. A thermalnce used for industrial welding, marksman carbines with tactical rails, rifles designed to punch through tanks... If I didn''t know any better, I''d say you were all massive hypocrites." I leveled the massive rifle directly at his face. And when I say it was massive, I mean it: I was standing up on top of him, and it felt like I had the stock practically welded into my shoulder, but the muzzle brake on the end of the barrel was still only about an inch from his nose.


    "Alright, the way I see it, I got two options here," I said, trying to sound as dangerous as I could. "I could let you live, so you can head back to the Fort and tell Caesar and Vulpes and whoever else wants me dead that I''m not going to be so easy to kill. Or..." I pulled the bolt back, and then shoved it forward again, just so the Legionnaire under my boot knew that a .50 cal round was now chambered. "Or, I could just kill you right now - and when none of the assassins return, that should get the message across just as well. Don''t you agree?" The Legionnaire just looked at me with utter contempt.


    "Kill me or release me, Courier." He coughed, and blood sttered out of his mouth. "It will make no difference. Csar has marked you for death, and he will never call off The Fox or his men from the hunt. Every member of the Legion will be after your head."


    I made it look like I was considering that for a minute. In the end, I just shrugged.


    "Damn."


    I braced myself for the kickback, and squeezed the trigger.


    I considered myself extremely lucky. For as many new bullet holes there were in my car - including the massive one in both the driver and the passenger door, and the chunk taken out of the upper right corner of the ss in the windshield - none of them had managed to hit anything too vital. All the tires were still inted, and none of the bullets had even gotten close to damaging the engine. Not only that, but I''d grabbed all the discarded weapons, as much ammo as I could carry, and anything else I thought could be valuable - which isn''t stealing, because they attacked me, which makes it mine by internationalw of Go Fuck Yourselves.


    As for the looted weapons, there was the anti-materiel rifle with 19 .50 cal rounds left, the marksman carbine and about 52 rounds of 5.56mm caliber ammunition, and the extremely box-like submachine gun - which turned out to be chambered for 12.7mm bullets - along with close to 70 of the 12.7mm rounds. For those of you who don''t know, 12.7mm is the civilian version of the .50 caliber round, designed for use with pistols and submachine guns rather than rifles. The rounds are positively massive. I ended up leaving the thermalnce buried in the ground.


    When I finished taking stock of the weapons and ammo, I realized that I was actually in quite a bit of pain. And not the normal kind of exhausted pain you get from an adrenaline crash. Then I remembered - I''d been shot a couple of times. I took a look at my right arm and left leg, and thankfully none of the bullets had actually gotten themselves lodged in my skin. So, I pulled out one of the medkits in my trunk, and used one of the stimpacks. As the skin knitted itself back together, I took a look at ED-E, remembering that he''d been shot as well. The outside of his chassis was dented where he''d been hit, and one of the stabilizing jets on his underside was slightly cracked, but it wasn''t anything too serious.


    In the end, I reced the microfusion cells in the engine''s cylinders, I handed Gibson the cash, and she let me take the dog. When I finally got back to Westside, Rey was sprawled out across the backseat. I half expected him to stick his head out the back window like Rex had, but apparently he just wanted to sleep. Cmity was waiting for me where I''d dropped her off, and slung across her back was arge sack, full of... stuff. Honestly, I couldn''t quite see what all she had.


    "And what sort of time do you call this?" She rasped, looking at the watch on her wrist. "What, did you stop for drive-through on the way back or something?"


    "No, I just got ambushed by Legion assassins and nearly died." I said as nonchntly as I could. She scoffed, obviously not believing me. I pointed at the back seat. "I got the dog, though."


    Cmity opened the backseat, and put her backpack in the footwell. Rather than getting in the passenger seat though, the ghoul bent down over the dog, and ced a hand on the dog''s chest with a concerned look on her face. Then she turned to me.


    "You do realize this dog is dead, right?"


    "What?!" I turned around in my seat to look at Rey sprawled out on my backseat. "He wasn''t dead when I got him. Are you sure?" She nodded.


    "It''s not breathing, and that usually indicates that something is dead," she said, apparently unconcerned. She just shut the back door and got in the passenger seat.


    "Well, fuck. Is this going to be a problem?" I asked, trying to see if I could salvage this situation. Cmity shrugged.


    "If I''m honest, it smells like the dog died recently - probably within thest half hour or so. The brain will decay the quickest, but if we get the corpse to the doctor before rigor sets in, Henry should be able to preserve it long enough toplete the operation."


    "So, you''re saying the quicker we get the dog to Henry, the better off the operation will be?" I asked. Cmity nodded. "Then put your seat belt on, and hold onto something."


    "What are you-" The ghoul was interrupted by a squeal of spinning tires, and the speed of the car peeling away as fast as possible shoving her back into the seat.


    Time to see how fast my car can go up a mountain road on a full charge.

 Chapter 34: Of Stealth Boys and Nightkin

    Chapter 34: Of Stealth Boys and Nightkin


    <em>You''re listening to the Mr. New Vegas show, your little jukebox in the Mojave wastnd - only on Radio New Vegas. You know what time it is folks - time for some news. Tensions between the Kings and the NCR may have cooled down in thest several days, but gang violence is still very much present in Freeside. Visitors to the area should exercise caution, especially after dark. The news this hour has been brought to you by Primm: The other New Vegas. Coming up next is Bob Crosby and the Bobcats, taking us "Way Back Home."</em>


    "Holy shit, careful! That''s a tree!"


    "I''m not gonna hit the tree!"


    "Hairpin! HAIRPIN!"


    "Calm down already!"


    "ROCKS!"


    "Shut up and let me drive!"


    Cmity was freaking out and shouting almost all the way up the mountain. Honestly, you''d think she''d never gone up a mountain road around hairpin corners at 80 miles an hour before. I mean, that''s what the handbrake is for, right? She did eventually quiet down - because she was too busy covering her eyes to do anything else.


    Thankfully, when I got to the Jacobstown front gates, they were open. So I just kept my foot on the gas, and powered on through, aimed straight at the lodge house where Doc Henry had set up hisb. I felt the bottom of the car go light as it hit a massive bump, and then a horrendous crash when the tires hit tarmac again. I spun the wheel, yanked on the handbrake, the car started sliding sideways... and came to a stop about 5 feet from the front door in a cloud of tire smoke.


    "Well, c''mon," I said to Cmity, turning off the engine and opening the door. "Let''s get the dog into theb." I looked up, expecting Cmity to still be sitting there, but all I saw was an empty seat and an open passenger door.


    "You arepletely mental!" Cmity yelled, her raspy voice cracking. She was reaching into the backseat of the car, pulling out her backpack. "I will never, ever, everin about walking anywhere ever again, just so long as I don''t have to go anywhere with YOU behind the wheel, you fucking maniac!" And with that, she ran into the lodge and mmed the giant double doors behind her. ED-E beeped something unintelligible.


    I just sighed. I wasn''t driving <em>that</em> fast. Still, at least she could''ve helped me with the dog. I reached into the backseat, and grabbed the dog by the chest, lifting it out of the car. It hung limply in my arms, and I grunted - this dog was surprisingly heavy. But then, it would have to be, wouldn''t it?


    "Need any help there?" I heard a voice say behind me. I hoisted the dog onto my shoulder and turned to face Cass, who was eyeing me with amusement.


    "I think I can handle one dead dog," I said, trying to ignore the feel of the matted fur pressing against my face. Instead, I just kept going forward. Next thing I knew I was in the good doctor''s office, and boy... was I in for a shock.


    The office was almost nothing like I remembered it. There were more things cluttering up the space. I''m just d I wasn''t ustrophobic. There were machines that obviously hadn''t been there before, and when I looked down, I couldn''t see the floor for the masses of cables and wires. A few of the bigger conduits had metal foottes draped over them to keep people from tripping, but the vast majority of the cables afforded no such luxury. Thergest machine in the center of the room looked like it had been constructed out of several cannibalized sr panels, with the strangest looking ceiling fan bolted above it - instead of fan des, metal boxes protruded from the center off metal sticks. Behind the machine, I could see Cmity ditching her jacket and pulling on herbcoat, while Henry took a look through the bag of odds and ends she''d brought back. Arcade was also busy at work on one of theputers in the back, typing away at something. Oddly enough, he had ditched hisbcoat somewhere. Laying next to him on one of thest remaining examination tables was Rex, fast asleep, and with severalrge wires hooked up to his brain and his other mechanical parts, connecting him to one of the nearby machines.


    "Hey, doctor?" I said, I thought loud enough to be heard. Henry didn''t seem to notice me, so, very carefully, I stepped over the wires and made my way further into his office.


    "Hmm... yes, yes... This will do nicely..." Henry was turning a small device over and over in his hands, seemingly oblivious to everything else around him. "You''ve done well, finding this. Get this installed right away, would you Cmity?"


    "Doctor Henry!" I said right behind him. He just turned to look at me with... was that annoyance? "I found a dog. I think it''s brain will work, but... it... he kind of... well, died on the way up."


    "Well don''t just stand there," he said, grabbing me by the shoulder and ushering me to the unupied examination table next to Rex. "Let''s take a look at him, examine his potential." I set down the dog on the table... and was quickly ushered away by Cmity. Henry reached above him and grabbed what looked like the ss from an old TV, surrounded by metal and dials and buttons, and mounted to an extending metal scissor arm. He turned it on, the screen flickered, and a blue and white image of the dogs brain appeared on the screen. "Alright, let''s see here... neural pathways look good... definitely a breed of guard dog... Excellent! It will take a few hours toplete the procedure, though. I''ll call you when we''re finished."


    Cass was leaning against my car when I got back outside. Before I even got a chance to say anything, she rapped one of her knuckles against the car door, right next to the gaping bullet hole.


    "So... I''m guessin'' you had some fun," Cass said with a smirk. I just shrugged, and leaned against my car next to her. "What happened?"


    "Oh, you know. Nothing I can''t handle." I tried to be cool, but Cass just chuckled.


    "Yeah, I''ll bet," Without another word, she reached behind her and pulled out her sk. She started unscrewing the cap... and then her hand slowed to a stop, until she was just staring at her still closed sk. After a few seconds of staring, she sighed.


    "Hey, Cass? You alright?" She shrugged, and finished unscrewing the cap on her sk, taking a drink.


    "Yeah, m''fine. Jus''... thinkin'' is all."


    "Okay... what are you thinking about?" She shrugged, and offered me her sk. "Thanks," I said, but I couldn''t help notice that she wasn''t looking up. I took a swig, let the whiskey burn down my throat, and handed it back to her.


    "I dunno. Stuff, mostly... Been thinkin'' ''bout th'' next caravan site a lot... th'' one on th'' map?"


    Ah.


    "What about it?" I asked, already feeling like I knew the answer.


    "Well... s''like this. We know where it is, right? An'' there''s nothin'' stoppin'' me from headin'' out there right now to find out what''s what..." Cass sighed heavily again. "But we haven''t."


    "Yeah... I was gonna say something, but I thought it best to wait until you brought it up." I paused, thinking for a minute. "You know, we could go right now." Cass looked up at me from under her hat with a raised eyebrow.


    "What, now? Y''mean, now-now?" She gestured back at the lodge with her thumb. "But what about Rex? An'' Veronica? An'' Boone? An'' Arcade?"


    "Don''t worry about it," I smiled, and waved it off. "They can all keep for a few hours. We can head down there, see what''s what, and then head back. Easy. I mean, hell, I made a promise." Cass just looked dumbfounded. Finally, she shook her head.


    "No... no, s''alright. We don'' have t''go righ'' now. But... thanks. Offerin'' t''just drop ev''rythin'' like that, an'' drive me out all that way, I... thanks." She raised her sk to me, said "Cheers," and took a long swig - if the sk wasn''t empty by now, I''d be thoroughly surprised.


    "Don''t worry about it. I''m your friend, that''s what friends are for. But... I have this feeling there''s something else at work here. It''s almost like you don''t want to visit that x on the map." Cass stayed quiet for a while; the only noise came when she started fiddling and fidgeting with her sk, screwing the cap back on and turning it around in her hands.


    "When I asked you to take me to th'' first..." She gulped audibly. "...to th'' wreckage of Cassidy Caravans, I didn''t know what t''expect. I jus'' wanted to pay my respects to th'' dead. I thought I''d be able t''say g''bye, and then that''d be th'' end of it. But now, s''like my caravan was just..." She trailed off. Eventually though, she put her sk away, and looked straight at me. "Y''ever get a feelin'' in yer gut? Like... you know somethin'' bad is gonna happen, but you can''t put yer finger on what exactly?"


    "Sometimes, yeah," I nodded my head. "You getting one of those gut feelings yourself?"


    "Yeah... I jus'' got this nasty feelin'', deep in th'' pit''ve my stomach. Like... when we get there, I''ll find th'' answers I was lookin'' for, but... no matter what, I''m not gonna like what I find. It''s almost like..." Cass grimaced, like she was trying to search for the right words to express what she wanted to say. "Have y''ever had nightmares?"


    Part of me wanted to startughing uncontrobly right then and there. Another part of me wanted to exposit in great detail, and at considerable length all the nightmares I''d been having ever since killing Benny at the Tops. Nightmares about the people I''d killed, nightmares about Caesar and Kimball, about House and Vegas. I wanted to tell her about the floating, spinning rubix cube; and the neverending hallway; and the ICBMs turning the Mojave into a brand new radioactive wastnd; and Daniel Wyand talking to me with a hole in his head; and Benny rigging the roulette wheel; and all that was left of the memories of people I used to know dissolving into sand; and Victor burying me alive; and Benny''s broken, mangled, bloody face reforming into my own. I wanted to tell her about waking up in the middle of the night, breathless with sheets soaking from all the cold sweat.


    I wanted to tell her all these things.


    "I''ve had a few, yes," I said eventually. And that''s all I said on the subject.


    "Well... I''ve been havin'' one th''st couple''ve days," Cass said. "S''always th'' same dream. I''m walkin'' down this canyon, an'' suddenly, there''s this fork in th'' road. Both path''s are covered in darkness. Can''t see anythin'' down either one, but I can... I dunno, it''s like I can feel somethin''... Just when I''m ''bout t''make a choice, th'' ground drops out from b''neath me, an'' I wake up." Cass sighed. "I dunno why''m so nervous ''bout this, y''know?"


    "Listen, Cass..." I patted her on the shoulder as I talked. "This whole caravan thing? It''s all you. I''m following your lead here, so I''ll only take you there when you''re ready. And I''m not gonna force you to go out there if you don''t want to, either."


    "I know, s''just..." Cass screwed her face up until a look of determination fell across her features. "Tomorrow." That was surprising.


    "You''re sure?" I asked. Cass tipped her hat back and nodded.


    "Yeah. Not gonna put this off any longer. Tomorrow morning sound good?" I nodded back at her.


    "First thing tomorrow morning, we''ll go visit the next caravan site. I promise."


    "Alright. Good. Yeah... this is... good." Cass slumped against my car, and the two of us just leaned against my car in silence for a few minutes.


    "Hey, do you want to get something to eat?" I asked, breaking the silence.


    "I thought you''d never fuckin'' ask. I''m starving!"


    There isn''t anything even remotely restaurant-ish anywhere in Jacobstown, but we did eventually find enough food to make a couple of sandwiches. And even better - Cass found four bottles of beer! The two of us ended up having lunch sitting on the hood of my car, bullshitting about nothing. The conversation wasn''t quite so heavy as it had been earlier, thankfully.


    "How th'' fuck didja survive all that anyway?" Cass asked, finishing off her second beer. "I mean, four Legion assassinse after ya, an'' you get outta there without a fuckin'' scratch?"


    "Well, to be fair, I came out with a couple of scratches," I rubbed my arm where I''d been hit with the ricochet earlier. From behind me, I heard a few weird beeps - it sounded like ED-E was annoyed. "Yes, ED-E, you were a great help, and I wouldn''t be here if it wasn''t for you." The eyebot responded with a pair of satisfied sounding beeps.


    "Still, that''s impressive. Didn''t think y''had it in ya."


    Suddenly, the car started shaking. I looked around, guessing at the source, and saw Lily walking past us towards the lodge.


    "Hey, Lily. What''s up?" I asked, downing thest of my beer.


    "Oh, hello dearie! Doctor Henry told me he''d be ready for me in hisb about now. We''re going to test out the Stealth Boy Mark II!" Lily boomed in undisguised enthusiasm.


    "Are you sure about helping Henry with his experiment, Lily?" I asked. "I mean, he told me yesterday that the procedure is... risky. Sure you want to go through with it?"


    "Oh, look at you, all worried about your grandma!" Lily came over and patted me on the head; it was all I could do not to fall off the hood of my car. Off to the side, I heard Cass startughing. "I know it''s dangerous, but it''ll all turn out for the best, you''ll see! I should really go to him now. Don''t want to keep him waiting!" She ruffled my hair, and turned on her heels into the lodge.


    "Heh... you look like a damn goof," Cass said, and I realized I was lying down so low, my head was almost touching the hood. I straightened myself up, just in time for Cass to stop chuckling. "So... we gonna go in and watch?"


    "Of course," I said, jumping off the car.


    By the time Cass and I entered Henry''sb, Lily was already standing in the middle of the machine I''d seen earlier that looked to be made out of sr panels. Her hat and goggles were nowhere to be seen, and a number of sensors hooked up to wires were stuck to her skin. Cmity and Arcade were both standing behindputer monitors and technical equipment, while Henry was busy putting the finishing touches on the machine Lily was standing in. Lily turned to look at us when we entered, and it almost looked like she was trying to smile behind her leather face harness.


    "You came to visit! How lovely. You''re just in time for the fireworks!" Lily said. Henry looked out from behind the machine at us, and breathed a sigh of relief.


    "Oh, it''s you," he said, closing the panel and walking towards us. "You''re wee to stand and observe the experiment if you want, but please, stand back - I don''t want any erroneous readings."


    "Doctor Henry!" Cmity rasped from across the room. "All of the equipment is hooked up and ready."


    "We can start the test as soon as you give the go ahead," Arcade perked up from his station, and gave Henry a thumbs up. It was then I got the first look at Arcade since he''d started helping Henryst night... and it looked like he hadn''t gotten any sleep at all. There were massive dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was rather disheveled. He had ditched hisbcoat, the sleeves on his shirt were rolled up, and the top two buttons were open.


    "Excellent," Henry reached inside his coat, and handed Lily what looked like a Stealth Boy. It didn''t look any different from a normal Stealth Boy, but then again, I don''t know about these things. "Let''s go ahead and start the test."


    The floor rumbled, and the air was filled with a loud, low frequency hum. The fan de above Lily started to slowly turn around just as she strapped the Stealth Boy Mark II to her wrist. What looked like two tiny stic satellite dishes dropped out of the top of the machine, pointing towards Lily. The sr panels behind her started to glow a faint blue around the edges.


    "All right Lily," Henry said, stepping back from the machine. "Power on the Stealth Boy."


    Lily nodded, and lifted up the arm with the Stealth Boy strapped to it. She punched a few buttons, and with a blue-electric sh, and a belch of ozone, Lily disappeared... except she didn''t quite disappearpletely. The sensors connected to her were still mostly visible - the wires still looked solid, but the suction cups faded in and out, and what I could see almost looked like it was underwater. The fan, the sr panels, the satellite dishes, all of them started sparking slightly with blue electricity, and bits of Lily started to fluctuate in and out of visibility.


    "Urgh..." Lily grunted, and the half-visible silhouette moved a little. "Feels... strange. Strange but good!" The fan above her head started spinning slightly faster.


    "Interesting," Henry said. "Alright, try thinking aggressive thoughts now. Think about smashing a radscorpion!" The silhouette started shaking again, and the lights around the machine shifted from a light blue to a blue green. Lily started growling.


    "Nyah-ha-haa! Lily smash!" I could hear Lilyughing, and the stealth field fluctuated even further; I couldn''t tell if it was because she was moving, or because something was going wrong.


    "How are those readings looking Cmity?" Henry called out. The ghoul assistant was hunched over one of the machines in the back of theb.


    "The stealth field is unstable, and scrambling things," Cmity yelled out over the ruckus caused by the machines. "The readings say gamma wave activity is zero... but that can''t possibly be right! Must be a result of the interference..."


    "Arcade? What does your readout say?" Henry said, turning to the blonde doctor.


    "I''m getting the same thing on the anti-mass spectrometer, Henry. Gamma wave activity is zero, even with the processors clocking in at 20 petaFLOPS. This can''t be just a result of any interference."


    "Alright, alright, we''re done here," Henry sighed. "Cmity, Arcade, shut down the machines. Go ahead and power the Stealth Boy down, Lily."


    "A... I liked having it on!" Lily said... but then a momentter, there was a crack of ozone and Lily becamepletely visible.


    The low frequency hum that had permeated everything for the past few minutes finally died down, and the electricity slowly stopped arcing. The satellite dishes folded upwards again, and the fan above Lily slowed down to a crawl, before finallying to a stop.


    "Well, that was... different," Cass said, tipping her hat back.


    "So Henry," I stepped over a few cables and approached the doctor. "Do you think this experiment was a sess?" He shrugged in a very nonmittal fashion.


    "I''ll have to get back to you on that in a moment, once I''ve analyzed the results..."


    THUD.


    Everyone in the room shut up, and turned towards the direction of the noise - the door leading out to the rest of the lodge. It sounded like someone was -


    THUD.


    Someone was beating against the door. It was either being hit with a battering ram, or a super mutant was hitting it with a fist the size of my head. Almost on instinct, I started to reach for Roscoe sitting in my holster.


    THUD.


    The door handle splintered, and flew off the door into the room; the door itself swung open on its hinges, smashing into the wall behind. A blue skinned Nightkin filled the doorframe to such an extent that I couldn''t see anything behind him. He ducked, and slowly walked into the room, each footfall shaking the floorboards with a resounding stomp. From the way he carried himself - and from the sound of his voice when he spoke, which I recognized from a few days ago - I realized that this was Keene, self-proimed leader of the Nightkin in Jacobstown. He looked around the room, his eyes finally settling on the Stealth Boy Mark II in Lily''s hands.


    "Well, well, well..." Every word was spoken with a careful exactness, and the sort of danger that would make my skin crawl if it wasn''t already threatening to shake my teeth out with the volume. "Congrattions on getting the Mark II prototype functional doctor. Now... just hand it over, and we''ll be on our way."


    "We...?" I heard Henry ask. Keene merely advanced towards Lily, each step slow and dangerous.


    "Yes, we. My kin and I. There are caches of Stealth Boys out there - hundreds, maybe thousands. With the Mark II in hand, it shouldn''t be all that difficult to upgrade each and every one of them."


    This was turning into a very bad situation very quickly. I looked around - Henry, Cmity, Arcade, not even Lily was going to stand up to Keene. If he got his hands on the Mark II... an image shed in my head of hundreds of invisible and crazy super mutants cutting a bloody swath across the wastnd. So I did the only thing I could think of.


    I stepped between Keene and Lily.


    "Hold on, Keene - you can''t take the Mark II," I held out my arms in what I hoped was a disarming gesture. The massive super mutant just got close, and loomed over me.


    "Ah, the human Marcus let in. Step aside. My request is perfectly reasonable. Give us the Stealth Boy specs..." he brought up a massive fist, and held it several inches from my face. "...and there will be no need for us to stter the room with your insides."


    "Keene, listen to me, please. The Mark II''s are even more dangerous than normal Stealth Boys. If you take it..." Keene cut me off.


    "Our lives, our decision to make," he growled menacingly. "We''re tired of sitting around Jacobstown waiting pointlessly for a cure that will nevere."


    "It''s not pointless! Henry is close to finding a cure..." I felt something tug at the back of my mind, and I turned back to Henry, desperation in my eyes. "You <strong>are</strong> close to finding a cure, right?" Henry was next to Cmity, looking over theputers and the readouts.


    "Yes, I believe so. This test may have been short, but it has yielded reams of useful data."


    "You see?" I said, turning back to the massive Nightkin standing in front of me. He just kept scowling. "If you and the rest of your Nightkin leave Jacobstown now, the Stealth Boys will just make your conditions worse. Not only will you never get a cure - but none of your kin will get a cure, either. You''ll ruin everything Marcus has set up here to help you and your kin get better. I know you said it''s your choice, but what you do in the wastnd is going to affect everyone: humans, ghouls, mutants, Nightkin: everyone. But you didn''t think about that, did you?"


    Keene regarded me carefully for a few moments. His breathing sounded almost like a low growl, and he scanned theb with a scowl. I could practically feel the thudding of my heart beating in my ears. His expression waspletely unchanged - though, I couldn''t tell if that was from the leather straps holding his mouth in ce.


    "No... no I didn''t. Not until now." He growled. "Very well, human. You''ve made your point." Keene snorted, and turned on his heels. Just as he ducked to leave the room, he clutched the top of the doorframe, and turned back to face me. "I''ll withdraw my request... for now."


    Keene left without another sound, and I finally let my arms lower to my side. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and afforded myself the luxury of a soft chuckle. For a minute there, I was sure Keene wasn''t going to go for that, and I was going to be little more than dead meat.


    "That was incredible!" I heard Henry say from behind me; I turned, and saw that he was now holding the Stealth Boy Mark II in his hands. Lily was no longer in the machine, and was off to the side, putting her sun hat back on. How long had I been standing here? "I''ve never seen anyone able to talk their kind out of anything once they had their mind set to it."


    "Just tell me one thing, Henry. Do you think you got enough from this to find a cure for the Nightkin''s schizophrenia?" I asked, still breathing a bit heavy. Henry screwed up his expression, his already impressively wrinkled face filling with even more lines.


    "Well... yes and no." He sounded worried - and honestly, I didn''t me him.


    "What?" was all I could think to say. Cass spoke up behind me.


    "Didn''t ya jus'' say you got ''nuff from th'' experiment?" Cass scratched her head, discing her hat slightly. "I''m confused."


    "To be fair, we collected a lot of useful data, like I said, and I''m a lot closer to a cure than before, but... I''m not sure that this brief test will yield a cure any time soon." Henry looked down at the Stealth Boy in his hands. "However, if Lily were to continue to wear the prototype..."


    "Don''t worry about a thing, Henry!" I heard Lily say, walking up behind the doctor. "I''m just happy to help!"


    An image shed in my head from Lily in the cave: wide eyed and wild, blood pouring from her mouth...pletely feral and mad, ready to kill anything and everything in front of her. And the Mark II would only make that <em>worse.</em>


    "There''s got to be another way," I said, trying to wrack my brain for something. But I''m not good with all this science stuff, especially something specialized like this. And if Henry couldn''t even see any alternatives...


    "I have an idea," I heard Arcade speak up, still behind his console. Everyone in the room turned to get a look at him. "Why don''t you use neuro-peptide stimtors on a nightstalker brain? As long as the brain is properly preserved in bio-med gel, then it should produce results simr to a live specimen." I was just about to ask Henry if he knew what Arcade was talking about, when Henry''s expression changed from worry to tion.


    "That''s... Arcade, that''s brilliant!" Henry said withughter in his voice. "Simple, yet elegant. I can''t believe I didn''t think of that! Arcade, I think you may have cracked it!"


    About an hour after the Mark II experiment, Henry announced that the brain wave mapping transfer... whatever it was he did to Rex, waspleted and the dog was ready to go. Cass, Veronica, and Boone were gathering up their things to get ready to leave and head back to Vegas, while Arcade... he was slumped in the passenger seat of my car,pletely passed out. ED-E and I went into Henry''s office to meet the cyberdog - but Rex beat us to it. Before I even crossed the threshold of the door, Rex bounded up towards me and started barking happily.


    "Hey there, Rex. How''re you feeling, boy?" I knelt down, and gave the cyberdog a scratch behind the braincase, and he barked again, nuzzling into my hand. "Well, you''re certainly looking better."


    "Yes, Rex should be fine for the foreseeable future. That new brain has revitalized him considerably. With any luck, he''ll still be functioning long after you and I have fallen into dust."


    "I''m sure the King will be happy to hear about that," I said, getting up. Rex sat down at my feet; I think he was wondering why I''d stopped scratching him. "So, is that it?"


    "Yes. Thank you again for all your help with the Mark II test. I know it was a bit of a hassle, but you really were a considerable help. If everything continues to go like it has been, Cmity and I should be able to find a cure by the end of the month." I waved him off.


    "Hey, I didn''t really do anything. I just got a few things where they needed to go. After all, I am a courier." I smirked, and Henryughed.


    "Quite. Oh!" The old doctor snapped his fingers. "Before I forget, Marcus told me he wanted to talk to you before you and your friends left town."


    "Alright, I''ll go talk to him. But before I go, there was one more thing I wanted to ask you." Henry raised an eyebrow, and I continued. "I remember you said earlier that the Nightkin aren''t allowed to use Stealth Boys here, right?"


    "Correct. Every Stealth Boy we could find has been confiscated, so they''re not tempted to use them." That''s what I thought.


    "Alright... so where are they?" Henry narrowed his eyes and still looked confused.


    "Why do you ask?"


    "Because I had an idea," I said. "How would you like to remove their temptationpletely?"


    After everything else I''d done, part of me wanted to just leave town without bothering to see what Marcus wanted, but... well, Marcus was a decent enough guy. I should at least see what he wanted. So while everyone else was trying to corral the cyberdog in my car, I went looking for Marcus.


    "Hello, Courier," Marcus said when I finally found him. He was leaning against one of the cabins, with his arms folded across his chest.


    "No cigar this time?" I asked. Marcus just smiled and shook his head.


    "Nah, I don''t smoke in the middle of the day." He got up off the wall, and started tightening one of the vices on his orange shoulder te.


    "So Henry told me you wanted to speak to me?" I asked. Marcus nodded.


    "Yes. There''s... something I need done, but I''ve been hesitant to send someone from Jacobstown to check up on it. Well... someone else." Marcus sighed.


    "Go on, I''m listening."


    "Jacobstown... it wasn''t my first attempt to help muties here in the Mojave. There was another ce, at an old weather station at the peak of ck Mountain. Long story short, a crazed Nightkin called Tabitha arrived, and convinced the second-gens that she was some kind of prophet."


    "Second-gens?" I asked. Marcus shrugged.


    "Second generation super mutants. Results of the Enve''s experiments at the Mariposa ruins. Well... I don''t want to say they''re a bit dim, but, to be honest, the Enve wasn''t as good at making mutants as The Master. The point is, I sent one of my best infiltrators - Neil - to ck Mountain a few months ago to check on things. At first the reports were pretty regr, but I haven''t heard anything from him in a few weeks. It''s like he''s gonepletely dark."


    "Let me guess," I said, holding up a hand to get him to stop. "You''re worried about him, and you want me to go and check on him, so you don''t have to send anyone else from here, right?"


    "Not worried, really. I know Neil can take care of himself. I was just thinking, if it''s not too much out of your way, do you think you could swing by ck Mountain at some point? There shouldn''t be any rush, you know." Marcus looked hopeful, and I just sighed.


    "I''ll see what I can do."


    It was a surprisingly calm trip back to Freeside. I''m not sure what everyone else had got up to today, but only myself, Boone, and Rex, stayed awake for the trip back. And even better, the King was absolutely thrilled to see Rex again.


    "Why Rexie! You look all better boy!" It almost looked like Rex was going to jump into the King''s arms. Instead, the King knelt down to hug his cyberdog, and Rex started licking the King''s face. "Ha ha! Aw, you''re good as new! Did my Rexie get a new brain? Yes you did!"


    "Should I leave you two alone?" I asked, trying to hold back augh. The King shook his head, but kept smiling, and stood up. Rex sat by his feet, looking up at the King, and panting heavily and happily.


    "Naw, I''m just happy to see my pup back on his feet and happy. You''re a man of your word, no doubt about it. I can''t thank you enough for this," the King said, shaking my hand. "You''ve helped us plenty around here in Freeside, so I''ll tell you what. Just this once, name whatever you want, and if I can make it happen, it''s done."


    "Hey, don''t worry about it," I said, trying to wave it off. "Thest few days were pretty fun. Bit dangerous, but hey, what isn''t?"


    "I''m serious. You''ve done right by me, and I want to do right by you. Don''t rush it, though. Toss it around in you head a little. You only get one favor from The King."


    "Fair enough."


    "So, all that nonsense is over and done with," Veronica said, leaning against my car next to Cass. Boone was leaning on the other side, Arcade was still slumped in the passenger seat asleep, and ED-E was buzzing around above us. "What do you want to do now?"


    "Well," I shoved my hands in my pockets, and thought. "We started all this nonsense in Freeside a couple of days ago with lunch. How about we go for some dinner?"


    "Sounds good t''me," Cass said with a smile. "Hey, how ''bout we go back to th'' El Cortez? There was a steakhouse I wanted t''check outst time we were there."


    "Maybe I can pick up where I left off with the ckjack tables," Veronica said, looking up at ED-E hovering above her. "I still haven''t forgiven you for that, you know. I was just about to make a killing when you came to fetch us the other day!"


    ED-E let out a beep that sounded suspiciously like he was blowing a raspberry.

 Chapter 35: Answers and Conflict

    Chapter 35: Answers and Conflict


    <em>Wee back to the program, I''m Mr. New Vegas, and it looks like it''s gonna be another gorgeous day out there in the Mojave Wastnd. Got some newster on in the program, but first the weather. It should be a rather pleasant day out there, with highs in the greater New Vegas area hitting the 77 mark, alongside mostly cloudy skies. The sandstorms along the I-15 between Primm and the Mojave outpost are finally starting to die down, but travelers should still exercise caution. Coming up next is one of my very favorite songs, just for you: It''s Peggy Lee and the Dave Barbour Quintet, asking "Why Don''t You Do Right?"</em>


    You know, when Cass said she wanted to leave first thing in the morning, perhaps it was foolish and nave of me to expect to leave first thing in the morning.


    It was a little after 11 a.m. when I stepped into the kitchen-dining room, and I still hadn''t seen anything of Cass. Or Veronica, for that matter. Boone and Arcade, on the other hand, were both here. Arcade was up by the counter, fixing himself some kind of drink (tea, from the looks of it) while Boone was sitting at the table in front of a massive amount of guns on top of a greasy sheetid out on the table. All told, there were several dozen cleaning supplies, his DKS-501 (disassembled), his scoped hunting rifle (also disassembled), a .38 double-action revolver, a .44 magnum revolver, a 9mm pistol, a weathered looking N99 10mm pistol, and a small frame pistol that couldn''t have been chambered for more than .380 ACP.


    I let out a slow whistle. "Damn, Boone. That''s an impressive collection you got going there."


    "You''re not the only one who visits the Gun Runners," Boone said with a shrug. He picked up the .38, blew though the barrel, and used one of the brushes to start cleaning it.


    "Boone, do you honestly have to clean your guns here? I don''t think the dining area is the ce for this sort of thing," Arcade said, sipping on the tea he''d made. Boone stopped cleaning and looked up at Arcade, confused.


    "What do you mean? Only ce with a table big enough." He had a point, given the two rifles in front of him, I''ll give him that much. Arcade just chuckled, and set his mug on the counter.


    "Of course, of course. In that case..." Arcade walked over to Boone''s workspace, and picked up the small frame pistol. "Every well-bred marksman knows that the small conceble weapons always go to the far left of the ce setting." He punctuated his point by clicking the slide back in ce, and set the pistol back down with a smile; Boone just stared at it... and then he smiled back, chuckling a little. Personally, I thought it was hrious.


    "Hey, have either of you guys seen Cass?" I asked, leaning on one of the chairs. "I haven''t seen her all morning."


    "Have you checked Veronica''s room?" Arcade said, reaching for his tea.


    "Seriously?" I asked. "They can''t <strong>still</strong> be going at it, can they?" I heard Arcade snort augh, and try to hide it behind the mug. "Wait, what am I saying?"


    "Sure they can," Boone said, returning to his guns. I couldn''t help but sigh.


    "Right. Well. Needs must," I got off the chair and started to walk out. "I''ll see you twoter. If I can drag the two lovebirds apart, Cass and I are gonna head out for some business."


    "Have fun!" Arcade gave a weak mock-salute. All Boone did was look up from his pistol, and nod slightly.


    I walked out into the main hallway of the suite, trying to figure out how best to go about disturbing those two (Should I knock? Should I just wait outside the room until they''re finished? Should I roll a sh bang in there to get their attention?) when a solution was presented by the problem solving itself. I''ll be honest, that was a bit of a surprise because, as I''m sure you''re quite aware, that just doesn''t happen with me.


    Cass was standing at the threshold of Veronica''s room. She was fully dressed, had her shotgun slung across her shoulder, and she looked ready to go... except for the fact that she and Veronica were locking lips through the cracked-open door. Honestly, they looked like they were searching for each others tonsils. Veronica was wrapped in a sheet, and her (surprisingly long - it went to the middle of her back, at least) ck hair was falling loose around her. Veronica took a hand, gently caressing the side of Cass'' face, and ran the tips of her fingers through red hair...


    Ahem. I went somewhere else there for a minute, I apologize.


    My trance was finally interrupted when the door shut, and I suddenly realized where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. Cass walked towards me, face flush but otherwise unassuming; it looked enough like the "whiskey blossoms" she got when she drank too much that I started questioning if I''d actually seen what I thought I saw, or if I''d just imagined it.


    "So, y''ready t''go?" Cass asked, hitting the button to call the elevator. I just rubbed my eyes and sighed.


    "Look, I know I said I wasn''t going to force you to do anything, but what sort of time do you call this? You said you wanted to leave first thing in the morning, and it is now-" I lifted up my Pip Boy to check the time. "-precisely on the dot of 11:07. Hardly the break of dawn here." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open with that eerie silence. Without even waiting for the doors to open fully, Cass rushed inside.


    "Waitin'' on you now."


    "So..." We were about 5 minutes into the drive. Cass had settled in, and was busy drinking from her sk. "How do Veronica''s tonsils taste?"


    "Sorry, what?" Cass lowered the sh, and wiped her mouth. "I wasn''t payin'' attention. What was that?"


    "I said, how are things going with you and Veronica?"


    "Umm..." Cass looked a bit nervous, and quickly took another drink from her sk. "Fine? Things''r goin'' jus''... fine, y''know?"


    "Really?" I asked, thoroughly unconvinced.


    "No, not really. Well, I mean, yes, it''s... but it''s..." Cass sighed, and took another drink from her sk - and then upended it, revealing just how empty it was. "Fuck. Splicated, alright?" Cass reached between her legs and under the seat, pulling out another bottle of whiskey.


    "... How long have you been keeping that in my car?" I asked.


    "Long ''nuff," Cass smirked, pulling off the stopper with a pop. "Y''know, I never had t''deal with this kinda bullshit b''fore."


    "What, consequences?" I asked. Cass shook her head.


    "Rtionships." She looked about ready to take a drink from the whiskey bottle, but paused; instead, she took out her sk and started refilling it. "Seriously, usually people understand th'' difference t''ween bangin'' cuz it''s fun, an'' sex that actually means somethin''."


    "And how can you be so sure of that?" I asked, again unconvinced. Cass just shrugged.


    "Cuz we ain''t exactly livin'' in a world''ve sunshine''n rainbows, here. I''ve found most people who''re down t''fuck ain''t lookin'' fer anything... y''know, serious. Who knows if yer gonna get killed t''morrow... or even t''day, by something like raiders, or radscorpions, or deathws, or crazy robots. Y''just wanna... live in th'' moment. Do somethin'' that feels good, y''know? And nothin'' feels better''n sex."


    "You know, I used to know some junkies in New Reno who''d argue that point." I replied, only half joking. Cass just scoffed.


    "Yeah? An'' where are they now?" I thought about that for a minute.


    "I don''t know. Dead, probably."


    "There y''go," Cass put the stopper back on the bottle of whiskey. "Can''t expect junkies t''know what''s good fer''m. Look, point is, I''ve never had t''deal with goofy bitches that can''t separate dick''n emotion."


    "I didn''t think you had a dick," I said with a smirk. "Unless there''s something you''re not telling us?" Before I even finished, Cass socked me in the arm.


    "Asshat. It''s just a figure''ve speech."


    "I still don''t quite understand why you just haven''t told her you''re not looking for a rtionship like she is." Cass slumped deeper into her seat. It was almost like she was trying to hide.


    "S''not really my fault, y''know? I keep meanin'' to tell her th'' truth, an''... well... I jus'' keep... gettin''... distracted."


    "So, are you normally this horny, or is this just a new thing that''s cropped up? Because I didn''t notice this at the Mojave outpost."


    "Well... it had been a while, so that might be part''ve it, I think..." She was quiet for a few minutes, and the only sound either of us heard was the low rumble of the engine.


    "Do you want my advice? I mean, seriously, do you want my advice?" I asked her. She tipped her hat back, and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth with a snap, and shrugged.


    "Let''s hear it."


    "The way I see it, you got two options here. On the one hand, you could just swallow your pride, and tell her the truth right away. Let her know that you''re not looking for anything more than sex right now."


    "An'' th'' other option?"


    "You can keep doing what you have been thest few days. I''m sure it''ll probably be fun for a while. But the longer you put off telling her the truth, the deeper her feelings for you are going to get, and the worse it''ll be when the truth finally doese to light. Which it will."


    I nced over at Cass; she looked deep in thought, with her hat pulled down over her eyes. I didn''t look long. Just long enough.


    "And those''re my only two options, y''think?" She said quietly. It was almost a whisper, but still loud enough for me to hear.


    "The only two I can see. And like I keep telling you, I think it''s better to get it out in the open. I think she''ll respect you more for being honest with her in the long run." I kept my eyes focused on the road.


    "But it''ll break her heart," was Cass'' only reply. Slowly, I started nodding.


    "Yeah... there is that."


    The sound of the engine rumbled through the car as I drove along. The silence between us was deafening.


    "There''s no way out''ve this without hurtin'' her, is there?" Cass asked. I just sort of shook my head. That''s when she started shouting. "Fuck! Is there a way I could <strong>BE</strong> any more''ve a bad guy in this situation?!"


    "I could always try and find a puppy for you to kick."


    Cass socked me in the arm, yet again, with a resounding smack.


    N36 8.75'', W115 3.18''.


    Those were the coordinates we''d found on the map the other day. Following the pathid out on my Pip Boy''s map had led us through the remains of several old, worn down residential neighborhoods. Almost every house was a single-story, and I''m sure they might have been different colors at some point... but after 200 years of wear and tear, the ones that were still standing just looked brown.


    We were following the remains of Sahara Avenue, when we came across a bridge over what looked like a wide, dry river bed. I couldn''t go any further this way, because the bridge sort of buckled inward on itself... but that didn''t matter too much, because the Pip Boy told me we were at our destination.


    "So, this th'' ce then?" Cass asked, getting out of my car after I rolled it to a stop. I nodded and got out myself.


    "I guess so," I started looking around. "At least that''s what the Pip Boy''s telling me."


    "Hmm..." Cass was looking around as well, and pulled out her shotgun, checking to make sure it was loaded. "Let''s look ''round. Somethin'' stinks."


    At first, I thought she was speaking metaphorically, but then I started sniffing the air... and there was a distinct odor hanging around. It wasn''t too strong, but it was strong enough that I couldn''t mistake it for anything else: the smell of death. And as I peered into the copsed bridge, I could see arge brahmin corpse... and several piles of ash.


    "Well, at least we know we''re in the right ce. Another caravan burned," I said, thinking Cass was right next to me, but she was instead off to the side of the road.


    "Hang on, someone made camp here..." Cass said as she peered over the edge of the bridge, close to where arge chunk of the road had copsed. I walked towards the edge, to see for myself what she was talking about. There was a pile of dirt leading up to the copsed portion, and on top of it I could see the outline of what was probably a fire pit the other day. More importantly, however, there were a couple of corpses. Not piles of ash, but actual bodies.


    I looked over at Cass, and she looked at me; I could tell from that look we were both thinking the same thing. The two of us rushed down the copsed bridge to get a closer look. With any luck, the corpses might have something on them that would tell us who was responsible for burning the caravans.


    Even from a distance, I could tell a few things: they certainly weren''t Legion, and they didn''t look like raiders, or gang members like Khans or Vipers or Jackals. I could see at least three corpses. Two of them were wearing old worldbat armor; the same sort of armor the mercenaries who were harassing Jacobstown wore. Thest one was facedown, and wearing some sort of leather armor. I walked towards the one wearing the leather, while Cass went towards one of the men inbat armor.


    "Fuck!" Cass yelled out, almost immediately. "I should''ve fuckin'' known!"


    "What?" I asked, grabbing the man who was facedown, trying to turn him over. "What is it? Have you found something?"


    "Fucking Van Graff''s, is what! These fuckers''r wearin'' Van Graff familybat armor. I should''ve known, they always use energy weapons!" She grabbed one of the corpses by the cor, and pointed at a golden lion head emblem painted in a corner of the chestte. "See? That''s their logo. They put it on everything, th'' smug fuckers!"


    I racked my brain, trying to remember anything I could about the Van Graff''s. At first, the only thing I could remember was the billboard at the 2nd caravan site, advertising the Van Graff''s Silver Rush in Freeside. And then the bottlecap dropped: The Van Graff''s were one of the families running things in New Reno, always constantly fighting the Wright family, the Bishop family, and the Mordinos for control of that little scrap of nowhere... More than that, though, they sold energy weapons all throughout NCR territory, just like the Gun Runners sold normal guns. It used to be their main base of operations was somewhere in Redding, but now, nobody knew where their headquarters was.


    As I was thinking about all of this, I was trying to turn the other corpse over to get a look at him. There was a massive gash on the left side of his neck, and that side of him was caked in dried blood; whoever had shot him must have hit his cartoid artery. Painful way to die... and slow. I was so absorbed in remembering anything I could about the Van Graff''s and trying to figure out how the man in front of me died, I almost didn''t recognize him.


    "Thing is, this don''t make sense..." Cass said, giving one of the corpses wearingbat armor a kick. "Van Graff''s ain''t in th'' caravan business. Not unless th'' caravan''s carrying weapons, an'' shit... Why would they be burnin'' caravans?"


    "I think I might know," I said, looking at the man in leather armor... a man who looked like he couldn''t be more than twenty. "They''re working with someone else who is in the caravan business."


    "How c''n ya tell?" Cass asked, walking towards me. I pointed at the corpse at my feet.


    "I know this man. I met him almost two weeks ago, when I woke up in Goodsprings. His name is Ringo... and he works for the Crimson Caravan." Cass'' eyes widened when I said Crimson Caravan - and I could almost see the pieces fall into ce in her head.


    "Goddamn moth''rfuckin'' sonuvabitch... That tears it! S''all I need t''know. Crimson Caravan an'' th'' Van Graff''s... They were behind burnin'' all these caravans - and they''ve gotta answer for ''em."


    Cass clenched her fists as she stood over the corpses around us. The look on her face was... it was kind of scary, to be honest. There was a fire burning in her eyes that spoke volumes. I recognized that look... it was the same fire I''d seen in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror while I was hunting for Benny. It was the look of someone willing to tear apart the world with their bare hands to get vengeance.


    "I''m gonna get some extra ammo, a few bottles of whiskey, an'' then I''m gonna show those fuckers how a Cassidy settles ounts," Cass spat at one of the Van Graff soldiers, and started to storm off back to my car... but something about this whole thing was tugging at the back of my mind.


    "Hang on a sec. Cass, hold up," I called after her. She turned back to look at me, and I knelt down over one of the Van Graff troops. His chestte was flecked with dried blood, and I could see a gaping bullet hole in his chest under his armpit; one of the unarmored parts of his body. "Something about this doesn''t feel right."


    "I''ll tell ya what ain''t right - I haven''t stuck my boot up Alice McLafferty''s ass yet! Fucking... I should''ve known something was up when she bought m''caravan... Why would she want to buy a burned caravan? Fuck! It all makes sense now, goddamn! Why didn''t I fuckin'' see this b''fore now!?"


    "Seriously, listen for a second. Don''t you think this is all a little... I dunno, convenient?"


    "Th'' fuck d''ya mean?" She asked, sounding impatient.


    "Well, think about it. All the other caravans we saw never had any bodies anywhere. Only piles of ash. This is the first time we''ve seen any intact corpses, and... I dunno, it just seems a little fishy, is all. Like they were put here." Cass'' expression hardened. She advanced on me, shotgun in hand and with murder in her eyes. I got up, and stood my ground.


    "So, what? Y''want me t''sit on m''hands an'' do nothin?" She was starting to shout in my face, but I didn''t back down. "After everything you did t''kill Benny? Everything I did t''help you get yer revenge - now that it''s ME wantin'' revenge, y''want me t''cool m''heels an'' NOT kill the people responsible fer butcherin'' my caravan? My friends? My kin? FUCK THAT!"


    "That''s not what I''m saying at all!" I shouted back at her. "Besides, killing Benny was... different." That was the wrong thing to say, I admit in hindsight. Cass looked shocked and outraged all at once.


    "Oh, what! Cuz it was you wantin'' blood, then? Fuck you!" She grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me down towards her face, practically snarling at me. "You ain''t gonna stop me! I''m gonna make these fuckers pay fer what they''ve done!" I grabbed her hand and pulled her off my shirt, pushing her away from me.


    "Will you shut up and listen to me?" I held onto both her shoulders, keeping her at arms length. She looked supremely pissed and she struggled a bit, but she still kept her mouth shut. "It''s different because I knew exactly who I was hunting. I remembered his face, his checkered jacket, his nickel ted pistol, and every single detail about him from when he <em>shot me in the </em><em><strong>face</strong></em>." I loosened my grip, and she shrugged her shoulders violently, throwing off my hands. She was scowling... but still listening to me. "All we have here are a couple of bodies. It''s entirely possible that the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff''s are behind this. I don''t know - and that''s the point. I''m all for getting revenge and killing the people responsible for killing your caravan - but I don''t want to kill anyone on guesswork. Can''t kill a man without knowing for sure you ought to. We just have to know for sure."


    "Fine," Cass spat, shouldering her shotgun and making to walk back to my car. "Whatever. Fine. So. Have y''got a n?" I followed her back up the broken bridge, falling in step just behind her.


    "I''m gonna check out the only two leads," I said. "I''ll sneak into the Crimson Caravan''s camp and the Silver Rush tonight, and see if I can find any proof that they''re the ones responsible. After that... I figure we can work out what to do from there."


    "That''s yer n?" Cass sounded decidedly less pissed, but more annoyed. "Hate t''break this t''ya Shea, but yer track record with sneakin'' ain''t exactly ster."


    "Your confidence is overwhelming," I tried to deadpan as I opened the lock on my Corvega''s trunk.


    "I''ve got a point. Y''know that," Cass said, still scowling.


    "Yes, you do. And I admit, trying to disguise myself doesn''t really work because I''m not a master of disguise. I''m much better at sneaking..." I popped the trunk, and pulled out arge sack. "...when people can''t see me."


    "What th'' fuck is that?" Cass pointed at the sack, sounding genuinely curious.


    "This is a sack full of stealth boys," I said, opening up the pack so she could see inside. There were easily 20 or 30 stealth boys in the sack. Honestly, I hadn''t bothered to count. "I got them from Doctor Henry just before we left Jacobstown yesterday. He had confiscated all the stealth boys from the Nightkin, and I offered to take some off his hands."


    "Am I startin'' t''rub off on ya?" Cass asked, taking out a stealth boy and turning it around in her hands.


    "I didn''t steal them," I said, rolling my eyes. "He gave them to me when I asked, because I helped him with his research. Besides, I''ve snuck into ces before, so it''s not like the stealth boys are the only card I''m ying here. So what do you say? Will you let me find some evidence before we both go off half-cocked?"


    Cass breathed in sharply through her nose, and exhaled through her nose just as heavily.


    "All right. You poke around th'' Van Graff''s and Alice. Fine. But I see either one go inta th'' others camp? I''m gonna start shootin'', no matter what y''find."


    It was about a half an hour after noon when we got back to the 38. Cass didn''t say anything to me on the ride back, or on the ride up the elevator up to the suite. She just looked... pissed off. The silence was excruciating, and the look of hatred in her eyes was all too familiar.


    Of course, when the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, I almost wanted the ufortable silence back.


    "That is a fucking lie, you stuck up, four-eyed, pompous son of a bitch!"


    "So, you''ve resorted to name calling now? That''s mature - though I suppose I should''ve expected as much from a mindless Brotherhoodpdog!"


    It sounded like Arcade and Veronica, and they were both shouting at each other at the top of their lungs. I couldn''t tell where they were in the suite exactly; the sounds echoed and bounced over every wall and just got louder. Leaning against the wall across from the elevator was Boone, with the same expression on his face as always and his arms folded across his chest. He looked up when the elevator doors opened.


    "About time you guys showed up," he seemed to growl. "I was afraid those two were going to start tearing up the ce."


    "Boone, what the fuck is going on? Why are those two going at it?" I asked, right before I heard a thundering crash from the kitchen. Without thinking I drew Roscoe, pointing it at the entrance to the kitchen, and heard Cass ready her shotgun.


    "Yeah... I might have let slip that Veronica''s part of the Brotherhood of Steel, and..." Boone grimaced, and almost looked sheepish. Almost. "Arcade kind of went off after that."


    I rushed into the kitchen - and was immediately met with chaos. The dining table was upended and pushed off to the side of the wall. The floor was lined with shards of broken ss bottles and cracked tes. Every chair was either on its side or in splinters. Veronica was standing at one end of the room in abat ready stance, with her power fist exposed and venting gas. Arcade was standing at the other end, and the only thing that was immediately apparent was the thin trail of blood dripping down from his temple.


    "What the FUCK is going on in here?!" I shouted. Both of them sort of stopped and stared at me.


    "I''ll tell you what''s going on," Arcade said, wiping away the blood from his forehead. "You should''ve told me we were travelling with ackey for a band of murderous thugs!"


    "Oh, like the seditious anarchists in the Followers have any sort of moral high ground!"


    "Higher ground than your pseudo-knightly nonsense and warmongering!" The two of them started advancing on each other. I needed to end this quickly. So I aimed Roscoe above me and fired off a round into the ceiling.


    That shut the two of them up.


    "Alright, both of you! Shut up and sit the fuck down!" I holstered Roscoe with a bit more force than needed, but I thought it provided decent punctuation. "You are going to stop this stupid fighting RIGHT NOW - and tell me what the fuck this is about!" I pointed at the two of them, emphasizing each word I shouted. They both backed up slightly, but only Veronica looked around to find a chair that wasn''t broken.


    "She started it..." Arcade wiped his forehead again. That tore it.


    "IT DOESN''T MATTER WHO STARTED IT!" I yelled in Arcade''s face. I hated that excuse, and it really got to me. He backed up all the way to the fridge, and genuinely looked scared. I sighed, backed off a bit, and rubbed my throbbing temple. "I''m ending it. Right here, right now. The both of you are going to sit down, and tell me - in a calm, civilized fashion - what the fuck is going on and why you two have made a mess of the kitchen. And if you don''t, then I swear to FUCK that I''m going to beat the ever loving piss out of the both of you. Got it?"


    Thankfully, the two of them nodded. Arcade reached down by his feet, and righted a chair. I reached behind me and pulled the edge of the table up to get it back on its feet; a few sses shifted and cracked as it moved. When I finally got it back upright, I sat on the edge of the table, and crossed my arms over my chest, scowling at the two of them.


    "Ok. Now. What''s going on?" I asked. Arcade was the first to speak up - after he''d reached into the freezer to pull out a bag of ice to hold against his head.


    "Did you know she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel?" I nooded.


    "Yeah. I''ve known almost since she started working with us."


    "So why didn''t you tell me we were working with a mass murderer?"


    Fucking hell.


    "I am not a mass murderer you-" Veronica started to yell at him again, but I did my best to cut her off.


    "NO! Veronica - shut up! Arcade - no more insults, or I will beat you with the chair you''re sitting on! You want me to be an umpire, I will be a fucking umpire, and I will not stand for this shit!" I rubbed my temple again. "I didn''t tell you she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, because I was hoping Veronica would take some responsibility and tell you herself. But I take it Boone was the one who let it slip?"


    Veronica nodded. "Yeah, he kind of... mentioned it. I guess he thought it wasmon knowledge or something."


    "Ok. Arcade," I turned back to the blonde bespectacled scientist; he took the ice back off his head, and grimaced at what was, presumably, arge bloodstain. "What is your big problem with the Brotherhood? And keep in mind - you devolve into just insults, I will make good on that threat. Go."


    "I don''t know what you know about the Brotherhood of Steel," Arcade said, putting the ice pack back on his head. "But I''ve seen enough of what they do. They hoard technology, they murder people who use advanced tech and take it for themselves, and they fight anyone who tries to oppose them."


    I turned to Veronica., and gestured for her to give a counter point. She just sat there for a few seconds, fuming.


    "Yeah... all that is true," Veronica said finally. "But that''s not the whole story. That''s like judging all wastnders by your experience with raiders. The Brotherhood protects people."


    "No they don''t!" Arcade sounded astonished. "The Followers help people."


    "I didn''t say help, I said protect. We keep dangerous knowledge out of the hands of people who''d abuse it. If the Followers had their way, they''d let anyone and everyone get their hands on ns to build a nuke!" Veronica wasn''t yelling, but she was rather forceful.


    "And if the Brotherhood had their way, they''d keep everyone who wasn''t them in the stone age, while they hide underground on piles of stolen technology!"


    "Look, even I will admit the Brotherhood has it''s fair share of problems. But they''re still my family. And I won''t stand for you calling my family murderers!"


    "Remind me again," Arcade narrowed his eyes. "How many people did the Brotherhood kill when they wiped out the NCR''s gold supply?"


    "Ok, you know what?" I finally said. "I think I know what the problem is. You''re both being children."


    "What?" the two of them said in unison.


    "You heard me. Now, I want you two to listen to me, and listen good. You both have differences. You''re both from organizations that have different views on how things should be in the wastnd. But if you guys want to work with me, then you''ll have to learn to work with each other. Do you two understand that?"


    The two of them nodded. I looked off to the side, and saw Cass and Boone standing close to the door. What I said next, I directed to Cass as much as I directed to Veronica and Arcade.


    "This is why you don''t keep secrets from the people you work with. Eventually, the secretse out, and it''ll just end up in a big fight, and a lot of people hurt. Do you all understand that? I don''t want any more fighting out of either of you two. Think you can handle that?" Arcade and Veronica both nodded slowly, and I got up off the table.


    "Good. Now, clean this mess up. We got work to do."

 Chapter 36: Gathering Intel

    Chapter 36: Gathering Intel


    <em>That was Marty Robbins, telling you all about the man with the "Big Iron" on his hip. You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, keeping youpany out there in the Mojave wastnd. It''s the top of the hour, so it''s time to bring you some news. Rumors continue to persist about the package courier who survived being shot in the head near Goodsprings. No one is sure of his real identity or where hees from, but Freeside and Westside locals have started referring to him as "The Indestructible Courier" or simply "The Courier." Our sources also indicate that he has somehow drawn the ire of Caesar - but so far, every one of Caesar''s attempts to kill The Courier have failed. Maybe he really is indestructible? Who knows. The preceding segment was sponsored by the Silver Rush: feel the rush of a warmser in your hands.</em>


    I don''t think I''ve ever been happier to get away from my friends for a few hours.


    On the surface, Veronica and Arcade had stopped fighting and shouting and yelling at each other. But now they were having a stupid silent fight, which was just as annoying. Seriously, watching the two of them clean up their mess in the kitchen - and I felt like I had to watch them, just to make sure neither of them started anything - was the most passive-aggressive thing I''ve ever witnessed.


    Once they were finished, I realized that keeping the two of them in close proximity (at least for the time being) was probably a bad idea. So, to try and keep our living area from getting any more destroyed, I gave them both a couple hundred caps, and sent them each out on some errands - in opposite directions. With luck, that would keep them upied for another few hours.


    Cass wasn''t fighting with anyone like those two, but was still fuming and was utterly pissed off. Granted, over time she went from "pissed off" to merely "pissed" - she spent most of that afternoon in themon room next to the kitchen with half a dozen bottles of whiskey, alternating between pool and darts. And when she wasn''t doing that, she was on the balcony, looking out over Vegas and chucking her empty bottles off the side as hard as she could.


    Boone was the only one who didn''t have any problems with anyone or anything. Sadly, I didn''t have too long to appreciate that small nugget offort, because he left the 38 with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, saying that he was going to head out for some more ammo and "target practice," and that he wouldn''t be back untilte.


    Still, it''s not like my schedule was empty either. So, as soon as the sun set, I left the 38 as well, got in my car, and drove out into Freeside on my little recon mission for Cass, with ED-E following close behind. I made my way towards the Silver Rush first. I figured that if it was as heavily defended as I suspected, then it would be best to do that first; get it out of the way, and leave the easier one forst. No matter what though, I was going to scout out both ces for evidence and be done before the sun came up.


    On the way, I started remembering the first time I''d snuck into a heavily fortified instation. I had to sneak into an NCR base just outside Calexico, south of the toxic Salton Sea. I was given a job to transport a package from San Felipe down in Baja up to Dayglow. I never bothered to ask what was in the package, and on the way it got confiscated at an NCR checkpoint by an officer who felt that I hadn''t paid enough for his "stop toll." I was tight for cash back then, and really needed to make the delivery, so I figured out where it had been taken, waited until dark, snuck into the base quick and quiet as you please, and stole it back. When I finally got back to my car, I decided to stay off the roads until I got deeper into NCR territory - past all the quartermasters and their "stop tolls" stealing money off people just trying to get by.


    I''ve had to sneak into a couple other ces - some even more heavily fortified - since then, and overtime I''ve amassed a rather eclectic assortment of tools to help me when ites to sneaking around. The stealth boys would just make things much, much easier. Honestly, if I''d had the stealth boys when I''d had to go to the Fort, I wouldn''t have bothered trying to venture there in disguise. Oh well.


    I parked my car just outside the run down (and mostly copsed) old courthouse, a few blocks away from the Silver Rush. There was an abandoned car park much closer, but even I could tell it was being used by squatters as a makeshift flop-house. Ironic as it was, the car park was probably not the best ce to leave my car.


    "Hey, ED-E? I''m gonna have to go on my own for a while. Do a little sneaking around. Can you watch my car while I''m gone?" I asked the eyebot as I exited my car. He hovered close to my head, and let out a trio of sad beeps. I sighed. "Look, I know, you''re worried about me, I get it, and I appreciate it. But I need to move quiet, and I can''t do that with you bobbing along in the air behind me." ED-E made a weird, indignant mechanical squawk. "This isn''t like the Fort, ED-E. They''re not going to be able to see me this time." I lifted up a stealth boy, and ED-E backed off, hovered over my car, and sounded off a single resigned beep.


    I checked behind me after heading down the side street about 20 feet, just to make sure ED-E was staying put. Satisfied he wasn''t going toe after me, I headed down towards the Silver Rush in earnest. There were a few scattered lights here and there, but only Vegas Boulevard and Fremont Street had working streetlights... and that meant my short walk was bathed in a pale green glow, thanks to my bionic eyes.


    First order of business was to scope out the front door - not because I had any illusions that I''d be able to get in that way, but because it was always a good ce to start, and it would give me an idea of what I''d be up against. So, I stuck to the shadows, headed for a boarded up building across the street, and found a side entrance in an alley. I took the crowbar I''d brought with me off the sling on my back, and after a few seconds work, the door was open. Inside, the building was impossibly filthy, and full of cobwebs. And, lucky me, I could see every single one of them.


    The inside was deathly quiet, but that wasn''t really a surprise. The only noise came from the creaking under my feet when I went up the stairs. Thankfully, it didn''t copse under my weight on the way up, and before I knew it, I was kneeling next to one of the second story windows. The window was entirely too filthy to see out of, but with a bit of elbow grease, I was able to force it up just enough for me to look out. I reached behind me, and pulled a pair of binocrs off my belt to get a closer look.


    The entrance to the Silver Rush was a pair of identical metal double doors underneath argemp, spilling light everywhere. The doors were nked on either side by a duo of big burly men wearingbat armor. I switched my eyes from nightvision back to normal sight, and could see that it was that same matte-ck armor that Cass and I had found at thest caravan site - and both of them had the same golden lion emblem in the corner of the chest armor.


    What they had in their hands was what really worried me though. Both of them were carrying sma rifles. And these weren''t broken down, rusted pieces of crap like I''d found before: these rifles looked almost new and scarily well maintained. Even from this distance, I could see the rifles had been fitted with maic elerators and hi-energy ionizers. That''s some pretty heavy armament they were packing, and that was just the guards at the front. Not exactly the mostforting of views.


    Alright. Front door is a wash. I shifted around, trying to get a better view of other parts of the building. The building had windows, but none of them looked like they opened. Above the door was the Silver Rush sign, but it was tilted at an odd angle, since part of the 2nd floor was copsed. It was an old neon sign, which probably meant the Silver Rush was a casino before the war, and that meant... I looked higher, above the main part of the building, and I could see the framework of what used to be a high rise. Only about three of the high rise floorsing out of the building were still standing; everything above it was twisted and copsed.


    If I could get up there, it was a good bet there was a way I could get inside.


    A few minutester, I was in the alley behind the Silver Rush, looking up at the wall I had to climb. It was an old brick building, very sturdy... but not smooth at all. And in this situation, that was a very good thing. There were enough bricks that weren''t quite even with the wall, and there were enough of them that I could easily use them as hand and foot holds.


    The climb was pretty slow... but I made it up. Eventually. I had to climb through the remains of a window frame before I could see the interior of the building. The floors to the high rise part of the Silver Rush were in even worse shape than I thought. The entire center part of the building looked copsed in on itself. But there weren''t any guards up here.


    I started poking around, carefully working my way past the piles of rubble, until I found something: it looked like a trapdoor. Based on the height of the surroundings, I''d say I was right above the 2nd floor. Time to get serious. I pulled out the stealth boy, and slipped it on my right arm.


    If you''ve never used a stealth boy, it''s a rather... interesting experience. I unlocked the control pad, and punched in the activation sequence and... I felt all the hairs on my body stand on end, and a belch of ozone forced its way into my nose. It felt like cool water was being poured over me, and after it passed, my body, my clothes, and even my Pip Boy became see through. Up close, it didn''t make mepletely invisible; it was rather like looking through very still, very clear water.


    The charge on the stealth boy wouldst about an hour, so I was now officially on the clock. I tried to crack open the trapdoor... and missed. The fact that my arms were now mostly transparent was really fucking with my sense of perspective. Eventually though, I got my bearings, opened it up, and peered inside - it led into what looked like an overhead crawlspace, the kind of space between floors where buildings kept all the lighting and HVAC ducts. It would be a squeeze, but it was wide and high enough for me to crawl into. It''s not like I was trying to crawl through the air vents themselves.


    I crawled through the tight space, asionally lifting up ceiling tiles or peering through cracks and holes to check where I was... and then I started to hear voices. I moved towards the sound as quickly and quietly as I could. Arge shaft of light was bleeding through the dusty air ahead of me, and I situated myself almost on top of it. It wasrge enough that I could see down into the entire room: it was a corner office.


    In the center of the room was arge metal desk. On top of the desk was a stack of papers with a sma pistol sitting on top like a paperweight, and a RobCo terminal off to the side. Behind the desk was a ck woman with dark hair so short it looked buzzed, sitting in arge leather chair like she owned the ce. She wore what I''m sure she was trying to have pass for a business suit, but really it was a blue suit jacket that looked tailored specifically to show off her figure, and a matching blue miniskirt that was ufortably revealing - especially considering how her legs were crossed. I''m sure that from ground level, the neckline of the outfit was designed to show off her rather generous bust line, but from my view directly above her, the amount of revealed dcolletage was absolutely ridiculous.


    Sitting across from the woman was a greasy looking pale man in a grey suit, with a head of thinning dark hair. He looked simultaneously nervous and like he was attempting to be intimidating at the same time... but all it did was make him look more out of ce. Behind him and standing at the door in a suit of that matte ckbat armor and carrying a modifiedser rifle was an incrediblyrge ck man. His face looked frozen in a permanent sneer, and his arms were so huge, I could''ve easily fit a skull into each bicep. Each wall looked like it had been lined and reinforced with metal.


    "Mr. Soren," the woman behind the desk steepled her fingers in front of her face as she spoke. "Please get to the point. The second half of your payment iste, and I want to know why." The man sitting across from her - Mr. Soren, apparently - coughed, and adjusted his tie.


    "Ms. Van Graff, my associates and I have decided that we wish to renegotiate the terms of our deal," he said. I could tell he was trying to be forceful.


    "Might I ask for what reason?" the Van Graff woman asked. "The shipment was delivered. The weapons were tested before leaving this facility."


    "Regardless," Soren coughed again. "We feel that the quality of the weapons is below expectations, and hoped to adjust the price ordingly."


    "Ah," the Van Graff woman got up from her chair, and started slowly walking around her desk. "I think I understand what the issue here is. Excuse me for a moment, would you?" She stopped in front of the hulking man inbat armor. "Jean-Baptiste, would you bring out the volunteer?" He gave a single, guttural gruntingugh, and turned on his heels out the door. The Van Graff woman then turned around, and started leaning against the spot where Jean-Baptiste had been standing. "This is a lesson, Mr. Soren. A lesson in faith."


    Before I could work out what was happening, Jean-Baptiste came back into the room - but only after shoving another man in through the doorway. What was immediately apparent was hisck of clothes - he was only wearing a pair of cotton boxers. The second thing that was apparent was how his hands were bound in front of him. He stumbled a bit when Jean-Baptiste pushed him, and then was forced to kneel on the floor in front of one of the metal walls by a massive hand the size of a pie te. He looked positively terrified.


    "W-what is this, Ms. Van Graff?" Soren wasn''t even trying to hide his nervousness now. "I don''t understand. Who is this man? What does he have to do with our deal?"


    "Everything," she said with a voice like venomced chocte. She knelt down and clutched the mans chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Up until recently, this man was an employee of mine. He''s quite handsome don''t you think?" She turned to Soren, maneuvering the bound mans head towards the businessman so he could get a better view.


    "I... er..." I''m not sure how he wanted to respond. I wouldn''t know either if I was in his shoes, to be brutally honest. The Van Graff woman let go of the man''s face and got up.


    "I know I did. We became... close. I warned him that I was a very jealous woman. He said he understood. Apparently - he didn''t." She leaned back against the wall. "Last week, I chanced upon him in Gomorrah, being serviced by one of their two-cap whores. I was not pleased. I tell you all this because I want you to know that this man means a great deal to me." She turned to Jean-Baptiste, who was now standing right in front of the bound man. "Do it."


    Without hesitation, the massive man carrying theser rifle leveled the barrel at the head of the bound man and fired off a burst of energy into his face at point nk range. There was an actinic taste of metal in the air, and a blindingly bright sh. For a moment, there was a giant molten hole in the middle of his face - and then he had no face at all. His body glowed red hot, then white hot, and then disintegrated into a pile of smoldering ash on the floor.


    Mr. Soren was paralyzed with fear. He was recoiling back in his chair, a look of abject terror on his face. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. The Van Graff woman stepped forward, and grabbed onto the man''s head, forcing him to look at her right in the eyes.


    "Never break faith with the Van Graff''s, Mr. Soren. I expect you''ll have the rest of our payment ready tomorrow morning." She let go of his head, and he started nodding frantically. She smiled. "Good. Get out." He didn''t need any more encouragement; like a shot, he was out the door, his footsteps echoing down the hall. As soon as he left, Jean-Baptiste startedughing deep and heartily.


    "Hahahaa! Ahh, I think he pissed himself before he left. That was pretty good, making up that part about sleeping with Jacob," The Van Graff woman gave the giant man inbat armor no response - if anything, herck of a response was answer enough. He looked a little worried. "Uh... you <em>did</em> make that part up... right, Glory?" She continued to stay quiet, but stared at him with a look of exasperation. Jean-Baptiste countered it with his own look of frustration. "Damnit girl! What has mama always said about tipping the help? I thought this was about him stealing money from us!"


    "He was stealing money," she said, walking out the door. Jean-Baptiste followed her, and their voices started to fade as they left the room - but not before I heard her say "Though he could have kept it for all I cared. God knows he earned it..."


    As soon as I was sure they''d left, and weren''ting back - at least for a while - I moved. I removed one of the ceiling tiles and very carefully lowered myself down into the room. I made sure to rece the tile, and then I set to work. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that the Van Graffs here in Vegas were just as ruthless as their reputation would have you believe, but I needed to look around - and, if Cass was right, find some sort of evidence that would link them to the burned caravans.


    I booted up the terminal on the desk first, and ran the debugmand. Lines of code shed in front of me, and it took me a couple of minutes to parse through the massive amount of seemingly random characters, and sort out the password through the noise. Once I''d hacked into the terminal, it took me several more minutes to look through the files and realize there wasn''t really anything there... just before I logged out, however, I noticed amand that seemed out of ce: it was amand to disengage a lock on a nearby safe.


    I looked around, and realized that under the desk, built into the floor, was a safe simr to the one Jeannie-May had in the Novac motel office. I hit themand, and the safe underneath me popped open with a hiss. I logged off theputer, and opened up the safe, peering inside: several stacks of NCR bills, some old-world money, a couple stacks of caps, a few poker chips, several dozen legion coins... and several folded up pieces of paper. I took one of the papers, unfolded it, and read: it was a letter.


    <em>Dear Ms. Gloria Van Graff</em>


    <em>It hase to my attention that Cassidy Caravans have suffered a number of setbacks recently. I can only hope that thesetest unfortunate events drive that young booze-hound of an owner to finally sell me her remaining assets. </em>


    <em>As per our agreement, I have bent my not inconsiderable efforts toward weakening yourpetitors, the Gun Runners. You can expect a mysterious and sudden surge in sales in the near future.</em>


    The bottom of the letter didn''t have a name, but was signed: "AM."


    I folded the paper back up, closed the safe, and felt around my chest, trying to find the invisible pocket inside my jacket where I could keep this. As soon as the letter was put in the pocket, it disappeared and became transparent.


    Alright, time to get out of here. I didn''t think I could get out the same way I came in - not without causing an awful ruckus, at least. So I did the only thing I could think of, and leave the office into the adjacent hallway. And none too soon - Gloria and Jean-Baptiste were turning the corner, heading back towards the office. I pressed myself against a wall and stayed deathly still - I didn''t even dare breathe.


    "I just don''t like it, is all," Jean-Baptiste said. "I mean, we''re tricking the Legion, and setting them up for an NCR ambush. Helping out the NCR feels like... I dunno, like we''re betraying mama''s trust."


    "Jean-Baptiste, what has mother always said about you?" Gloria asked - but kept talking before getting a response. "She''s always said that you''re not going to go far in life..."


    Jean-Baptiste sighed. "But you''re gonna make a lot of peoplee up short. Yeah, I know."


    "Leave the thinking to me, brother. We''re not helping the NCR - we''re helping ourselves. If Caesar takes over the Mojave, he won''t suffer the likes of us. He doesn''t have friends or allies - he has servants. NCR, on the other hand, is an enemy we can deal with, bunch of corrupt, bullying fools who think they can tell everyone how to live their lives that they are... but easily dealt with, regardless."


    "I still don''t think mama''ll like it," he said, shaking his head.


    "She''lle around when she hears about the profit we''ll make," Gloria said as the two of them entered her office again. "If she''s smart - and she is - she''ll turn this to her own advantage and make a bundle off our new... ''connections'' in the NCR military..." She shut the door behind her, and I finally gave myself time to breathe.


    I had no idea how long the stealth boy was going tost. I needed to get out of here now. Quickly, I made my way down the hall where Gloria and Jean-Baptiste had came from, checking each door quickly as I passed. Most of the rooms were either storage rooms, or bunks for the Van Graff guards. I turned a corner, and it lead me down a staircase, into the main hall of the building.


    The downstairs was incredibly open and wide... or it would have been, if hadn''t been partitioned off by sheets of metal and chain link fences. All around, I could see weapons and ammunition mounted on the walls, lying on shelves... and guards in that same matte ckbat armor patrolling the area. The chain links made the downstairs a maze, and with all the guards... it would be a veritable killzone if I suddenly became visible in the middle of it.


    Right, back upstairs.


    Back through the same hallway... except this time, I didn''t see any decent way out. Before I knew it, I smelled ozone. A crackle of an electric shock crawled over my skin, and my limbs suddenly became visible again. This was exactly the kind of situation in which I didn''t want to be.


    I hugged the walls, moving as silently as I could, but every footfall sounded in my ears like cinderblocks being tossed off a building; it felt like my breathing was as loud as the wind in a sandstorm. I tried to shake it off - it was just nerves making my mind exaggerate every little sound.


    I tried to think - which of the rooms that I''d looked into had windows? Gloria''s corner office, sure, but it''s not like I could use that. None of the storage rooms faced the outside, and all the bunks had thick metal tes over where all the windows should''ve been. At the far end of the hall, there was one room I hadn''t checked, so I made a beeline for it. I cracked open the door. Inside was a dimly lit, dingy bathroom - and a window on the far end. It was small, and above one of the toilet stalls, but-


    There were heavy footfalls on the floor behind me, and the sound of a door creaking open. I rushed into the room, and into the nearest stall. I closed the door, and stood up on the toilet, making sure I''d be hidden from view - and held my breath. The door slid open slowly, and I saw the shadow of someone standing in the doorframe. I pulled out Roscoe as silently as I could, keeping it trained on the door. The silhouette on the floor didn''t move.


    "Hurm," I heard the voice say. "Guess it''s nothing..." The door slid closed with a squeak, and the room was wrapped in darkness again. I let myself sigh.


    Right, time to leave. It was a bit of a squeeze, but the window was, thankfully, wide enough for me to get out. Of course, halfway though pushing my upper torso out the window, I remembered - I''m on the second floor. Probably a bad idea to exit head first. It took a little tricky maneuvering (including some rather awkward and ufortablepression of some rather tender areas) but I was able to twist myself around until I was hanging down by the outer window ledge.


    A few minutes - and a bruised shin and shoulder -ter, I was back on the ground, keeping to the shadows and heading back to my car.


    I really have to learn how to fall correctly.


    The Crimson Caravan''s camp was a little less than half a mile from the north entrance to Freeside, just outside the wall. It was a rtively smallpound, surrounded on four sides by about 12 foot high concrete walls, with two wide doors - wide enough for something like my Corvega to fit through at least twice - at the east and west ends of the camp. Above each of the doors was a sign that said in red lettering "Crimson Caravan Co."


    There were a few broken buildings around the edges of the camp, and I used them as cover while I scouted out the exterior of thepound. The Crimson Caravan wasn''t like the Silver Rush at all - this wasn''t the headquarters of a paramilitary organization, it was just a civilian tradingpany.


    There were only two guards that I could see, and neither of them looked very attentive. They were both wearing leather armor, and each had an assault rifle slung across their chest. The one guarding the east entrance was busy smoking, and the one guarding the west entrance - the one facing the Freeside wall - looked like he was asleep. Slipping in past them under cover of darkness would''ve been incredibly easy at the worst of times; with the stealth boy, it was like I didn''t even have to pay attention.


    Of course, this time, I made sure to bring extra stealth boys. Just in case.


    The inside of thepound consisted of a series of small, one-story buildings. I recognized their design - it was the same sort of old world barracks design that the NCR used when they wanted to set up a forward base with structures a bit more solid than tents, but not quite as permanent as something made out of concrete. Aside from the half dozen buildings, I saw a brahmin pen at one end of thepound, and a series of small huts that looked like they could''ve been merchant stalls, as well as some park benches scattered around in seemingly random ces.


    Even though I didn''t feel like I had to even be all that quiet - this was a civilian outpost, which meant that aside from the two guards, everyone was asleep - I still tried to move as quietly as I could, checking the exteriors of the buildings for any indication of what they were. Most of them were exactly what they looked like, with signs like "Men''s Sleeping Quarters" and "Women''s Sleeping Quarters," but at the far north end of thepound was a building with a sign that said "Crimson Caravan Main Office."


    I tried one of the doors - not the front, but one of the doors on the side - but it was locked. Not all that surprising. If I''m honest, things were going just a bit too smoothly. I looked around over my shoulders, and made sure that nobody was nearby. When I was satisfied nobody was going to see me, I felt around on my arm, and searched for the button on the side of the stealth boy. There was an electric tingle, and I became visible, which let me look for the lockpicking kit I''d brought with me. What can I say, I didn''t really feelfortable enough with being invisible to try picking a lock without seeing what I was doing.


    A minuteter, the door slid open with a click.


    Inside the building was a short hallway, and two empty doorframes leading into a pair of offices. In front of each office was a small metal desk. The air was still and silent, and the few lights from outside spilled in through the windows and a skylight in the center of the hallway, illuminating every speck of dust floating in the air.


    I went into the closest office first. Next to the door was a que, that read "Don Hostetler: Human Resources Manager." On the desk was a terminal, and a ck and white photograph of a very grim-faced man in a suit, standing next to a woman in a dress, and a teenage girl. I hacked into the terminal easily enough. Unfortunately, there wasn''t really anything of interest on hisputer, except for a series of emails that heavily implied he was having an affair with his secretary.


    Content there wasn''t anything that I was looking for, I logged off, and started checking the drawers for something. The bottom drawer had reams of paper - it looked like files on every employee of the Crimson Caravan currently working in the Mojave.


    Out of a sense of morbid curiosity, I checked to see if I could find... there it was. Lowenthal, Ringo. ording to the file, as soon as he returned from Goodsprings, he tried to apply for a position as boss of a caravan trip heading to New Canaan... but thest thing in his file indicated he was sent on a different assignment, but didn''t say what it was. It also didn''t give any indication that he was dead; he was still scheduled to leave at the middle of next month.


    The top drawer, on the other hand, had no files. I saw a 9 millimeter Beretta, a box of ammo, and about half dozen empty jet inhalers.


    Right. Plenty of things incriminating this asshole, but not the kind of incriminating that I was hoping for. Time to move on to the next one.


    The sign next to the other door said "Alice McLafferty: Vegas Branch Manager." This office was much bigger than the other one - the desk wasrger and it looked like it was made out of wood, rather than metal, the wing-back chair behind the desk was leather, and button backed, that sort of thing. There were pictures and certificates lining the wall as well. Almost every picture included the same short-haired, tinum blonde woman wearing a business suit - I assumed that this must have been McLafferty. One of the pictures even showed her shaking hands with Aaron Kimball, the NCR''s president. Whoever this Alice really was, she was obviously pretty important back west.


    First thing I headed for was the terminal on the desk. The encryption was a little harder than the other terminal, but it was still simple enough to break in. Most of the information was boring spreadsheet after boring spreadsheet, but there was one thing that caught my eye: an email.


    <em><strong>Alice-</strong></em>


    <em><strong>Your push for a new tariff on Gun Runner weapons didn''t make it past the Senate. They''ve got too much pull in California. We''re going to have to find some other way to get the upper hand in the weapons market.</strong></em>


    <em><strong>-Jason Tagg, Modoc Branch Manager</strong></em>


    The letter to Gloria mentioned something about the Gun Runners as well.. so I downloaded the email to my Pip Boy, along with everything else on the hard drive I thought might be important.


    There was one other thing I wanted to check before I left: there was a safe on the floor, next to the desk and hidden out of sight. The lock was abination turn lock... so I pressed my ear to the safe, and very slowly and very carefully started turning the dial.


    Turning... turning... click. Now, the other way.


    Turning... turning... turning... still turning... click. Good. Back again.


    Half a turn, and the click, which was followed by a dull, low pop as the safe door released.


    Like Gloria''s safe in the Silver Rush, this safe had plenty of different and varying currencies. But this one had, alongside several pieces of paper, a holotape. I grabbed the papers, and flipped through them - they were all various agreements, signed by both Alice McLafferty and Gloria Van Graff, to undercut or eliminate rival caravanpanies in the region. Cassidy Caravans, Griffin Wares, Durable Dunn Caravans, 3-Some Caravan Company, Happy Trails Caravans... even Gun Runner caravans were targeted. I looked at the agreement they''d signed regarding Cassidy Caravans again; it looked like Gloria Van Graff agreed to use mercenaries against the caravan to drive down thepany''s value, allowing McLafferty to buy the remaining assets at "a bargain price."


    I grabbed all the agreements and put them in my jacket, and decided to see what was on the holotape. I checked the bottom of my Pip Boy and pulled out a small cable with a connection on the end, and plugged it into the tape. The screen on my Pip Boy shed, cycling through lines of code until the contents of the holotape showed up.


    At first, I didn''t know what I was looking at... but then I saw an electronic design credit: this belonged to the Gun Runners. I kept looking through it, and I could see that these were weapon schematics, stolen from the Gun Runner factory just a couple miles south.


    I disconnected my Pip Boy, and grabbed the holotape along with the agreements.


    Part of me was sorely tempted to grab some of the cash, but... I''d already been here too long. I closed and locked the safe, back just the way it was, and punched the activation code on my stealth boy.


    Time to leave, and get back to the 38. There was a lot I grabbed tonight that I had to stew over... and that included working on an apology for doubting Cass'' instinct. Still... at least I had plenty of evidence, and plenty of proof.

 Chapter 37: Making Plans

    Chapter 37: Making ns


    <em>The hour iste, and the road is long, but that''s okay. As long as you keep your dial tuned into the sweet sounds on Radio New Vegas, I promise... everything will be all right. You''re listening to the Mr. New Vegas show, and I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas. Got some Dean Martining upter on in the program, but right now it''s time for a little western twang. It''s Hank Thompson, singing about his "Hangover Heart."</em>


    It was prettyte - or was it early? - when I got back to the suite at the Lucky 38.


    The elevator doors opened to the suite, and I realized all the lights were still on. Part of me wanted to get to sleep, but I thought it best to check around - just to make sure Veronica and Arcade hadn''t started destroying things again when they got back. I checked the kitchen first: everything was still where it was supposed to be, cleaned up from earlier. Well, that was good.


    When I went into themon room, I was surprised to discover that Cass was still there... sort of. She waspletely passed out, slumped in one of the easy chairs. Her hat and jacket were discarded somewhere, as were her boots. In her left hand, she was still drunkenly clutching an empty whiskey bottle to match the others scattered around the room. Her head was tilted back, propped up only by the back of the chair, and every so often she would let out a distinctly loud snore. There were half a dozen pool balls and two cues lying on the pool table, and the dart board was full of 5 different sets of darts.


    In my head, I debated what I should do. Should I find a nket, turn off the lights, and let her sleep here? Or should I risk waking her up by trying to carry her to her room, so her back didn''t kill her in the morning? I was just about to leave to find a nket when I was interrupted by Cass waking up with a snort.


    "Snxxk- whu-huh? Wussat? Whos ''ere?" She wearily blinked her eyes, and dropped the whiskey bottle on the floor. She picked herself up and sat up in the chair, rubbing her face.


    "Hey Cass," I said, a bit sheepishly. "Didn''t mean to wake you up. Sorry ''bout that."


    "Nnf," she grunted, getting up off the chair. "Sheas''n. W''time issit?" She rubbed her face again.


    "About 3 am," I said, looking at the clock in the corner of the Pip Boy. Cass shook her head and blinked, determined to wake herself up and shake away her grogginess.


    "Well, c''mon," she said, a bit more coherently than before. "Y''find any ''evidence'' yet? M''not gonna wait f''rever, y''know." I nodded, slowly.


    "I have. And you were right - the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff''s are the ones responsible. I''m sorry for doubting you." I stated as inly as I could. "But this is bigger -" Cass cut me off before I could finish.


    "Well, c''mon! What''re we waitin'' fer?" Cass started walking past me, but I caught her shoulder before she could walk out of the room.


    "Hang on," She shrugged off my grip, but stayed still. Well... rtively still; she was wobbling in ce quite a lot. "You''re not seriously suggesting we go now?"


    "Course I am!" Cass started getting in my face. Her breath was so pungent with the aroma of whiskey, I felt like I was getting contact drunk from the fumes. "Can ye conjure up a terriblypellin'' reason not to?"


    "I can give a couple. For one thing, you''re way too tired and way too drunk to go after the ruthless bastards I saw tonight!" I looked down, and pointed at her legs. "I mean, look at you - you can barely stand!" It was true. Her legs looked remarkably unstable, swaying back and forth. It looked like she was exerting a considerable effort just to stand up straight. She just scowled back at me. "For another, I didn''t just get evidence that they''re responsible, and I want to go over it with you before we do anything. The two of us go off half-cocked, like I did back at the Fort, and we''re both gonna get fucked. Besides, I''m exhausted, and I''m not gonna let you go there without me. We both need sleep, and these assholes can wait."


    "They c''n wait, but I can''t!" Cass was really getting in my face now. "We know who''s responsible, an'' I want blood! You tryin'' t''stop me jus'' ain''t fair, y''fuck!"


    The next thing I knew, there was a fist hurtling through the air towards my face. It felt like time slowed down just long enough for me to get out of the way. I leaned backwards just in time, and I was hit in the face with the wind disced by her fist - which only missed me by centimeters.


    "Cass, wait-" I was cut off again by her other fisting towards me. I brought up the arm with my Pip Boy and bent my knee, getting me out of the way and allowing me to use my arm to push her fist away from me at the same time. I twisted around, and brought the arm with the Pip Boy down, grabbing her by the wrist.


    "Sonuva -" Cass started to take another swing at me with her free hand, but with me holding onto her other arm, she couldn''t help but telegraph her movements. She didn''t even get her fist halfway before I grabbed it, and pulled her arm away from me. Both her arms were now crossed over her chest; she looked around, realizing her predicament. She started struggling and straining against my grip, but I held firm - because I still had a point to prove.


    "Fuck you, man!" Cass growled through gritted teeth. "That caravan was th'' only family I had left! I just wanna do right by th'' dead! Why''re you... why..." She trailed off, words failing her. There was a faint moisture at the corners of her eyes, like she was on the verge of tears, but holding it back almostpletely. She was still struggling against my grip, but I could tell she was struggling just as hard to simply keep her bnce - which was probably the only reason she hadn''t tried to knee me in the crotch.


    "I''m not trying to stop you getting revenge! But going right now would be suicide!" I said as forcefully as I could without yelling. "Cass, if you go up against them now... I mean, look, if I could subdue you this easily, you wouldn''t stand a chance against half a dozen sma rifles shooting at you. What good are you gonna be to those who got killed if you die in the process of trying to avenge them? I mean... my life ain''t worth much, but you... If you die, then I -"


    Cass didn''t cut me off this time. I stopped myself. I didn''t really know what I was going to say... or did I? It was reallyte (or was it early?) and I think my mind was fucking with me. All the more reason for the two of us to get some rest before getting to work. She was looking up at me, with half-lidded eyes that looked simultaneously exhausted and confused. I shook it off, sighed, and continued.


    "I just want us to do this smart. I want the two of us to pull off your revenge ande out the other side alive."


    "Sheason... I..." her eyelids started to sag, and I felt a shock run up her body as her knees buckled. "Oh, fuck." Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her whole body just became dead weight. I let go of her wrists, and wrapped my arms around her waist as quick as I could to keep her from falling. As soon as I let go, she reached out and clutched at my shoulder with one of her hands, desperately trying to steady herself. "Arrigh''... mebbe ah do need s''me sleep..."


    "Damn right you do. Now, c''mon y''silly girl," I shifted my grip, holding her in the middle of her back and grabbing her behind her knees, picking her up. "We''ll talk in the mornin'', alright?" She shifted the arm that was clutching my shoulder, and draped it around my neck. The other arm fell limp at her side, and her head lolled around, eventuallying to rest against me.


    "Arrigh'', fuggit, Ah give, y''win," Cass mumbled into my chest. A short whileter, I carried her into her room,ying her on her bed as gently as I could. I tried to remove her arm from around my neck, but I could feel her hand start to grip at the hair on the back of my head. She turned her head towards me, and half-opened her eyes.


    "Cass?" I asked, unsure of what was going on. "What are you..." As I spoke, her hand ran down the side of my head, and her fingertips started slowly tracing the bullet scar on my cheek. She lifted her head a little towards me, closed her eyes, and parted her lips... and then both her hand and head fell back, and she started snoring loudly.


    I just walked out of the room and shook my head. Yup. Time for sleep. My mind must be ying tricks on me again.


    Cass didn''t wake up until around 10:30 or so. I''d only slept for a few hours, and had been busy the whole time I was awake. By the time she entered the kitchen, all bleary-eyed and such, I had everything I''d been working on spread out across the dining table. She was wearing the same thing asst night; the only difference was her hair, which she usually kept tied back, was hanging loose and sticking out everywhere.


    "Morning, sleeping beauty," I said jokingly. She gave me the finger, and walked past me straight towards the coffee machine. I''m pretty sure that "coffee," as it was before the war, doesn''t exist anymore. I''ve never seen any coffee beans, that much I know for sure. But there is a recipe to make a cup of "piping hot brown" using boiled water, some coyote tobo, and honey mesquite. It''s bitter as the universe, but keeps you awake and alert... if a little jittery for awhile.


    "You doin'' alright?" I asked, after she''d finished making herself a cup. She took a sip of her coffee, and nodded slowly.


    "Yeah, m''fine... Sorry fer goin'' off on yst night." She then knocked back half the cup, and her eyes snapped open. "Gah! Damn. But, yeah... I know yer tryin'' to help, but I was jus'' pissed off. Sorry fer takin'' a swing at ye. Didn''t really mean it."


    "Don''t worry about it," I waved it off, gathering together a couple of the papers in front of me. "Here, let''s get to work."


    "Alright," Cass set down her cup on the edge of the table. "So, what is all this, anyway?"


    "Well these," I said, handing her the agreements, and Alice McLafferty''s letter to Gloria. "prove that the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff''s have been targeting caravans around the wastnd - including yours." Cass looked over the documents I handed her, and started slowly shaking her head.


    "No shit... there t''is. Th'' blood, th'' motive, all clear''s day. Fuck, they must''ve penned these with snake venom."


    "No arguments there," I said. "But this isn''t just about a couple of caravans getting burned in the Mojave. This is a lot bigger than that." Cass raised an eyebrow and looked at me questioningly.


    "What''re ye talkin'' about?" I pointed at a few more of the agreements.


    "Take a closer look at some of these. A lot of the caravans targeted have their hearts back west. Hell, your caravan isn''t from here, and the Happy Trails caravan is based out of Sac-Town. Then there''s this." I handed her a holotape. "That right there is a series of weapon schematics that I stole from Mfferty''s safe. Based on the file''s authors, they stole it from the Gun Runners first," I tapped the side of my Pip Boy. "And on here, I downloaded some files and at least one email that indicates the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravan are trying to drive the Gun Runners out of business - not just here, but back in the rest of the NCR as well. We kill Alice and Gloria, and the real people in charge of their organizations back in the NCR will just keep butchering people to make a profit."


    "Alright, so... they''re fuckin'' around with people all over. An'' this damns ''em, but only if someone listens."


    "Exactly," I said with a nod. "Is there anyone you trust to get this back to the right people in the NCR?" Cass scratched the back of her head.


    "Well... Jackson in th'' Mojave Outpost could prob''ly get it to folks in th'' west." She shrugged.


    "Wait, Jackson? Ranger Jackson, the guy you said was a washed-out old fuckup? You trust him?"


    "Well, I wouldn''t trust anyone closer to th'' Colorado," Cass chuckled once grimly. "But yer right. Crimson Caravan an'' th'' Van Graff''s have their heart back west. Not sure it''ll do any good, though."


    "May do. Might not. We have to try, at least. But that''s not the only card I have to y, and I''m not done rigging the odds just yet," I said with a smirk. I pulled somerge printouts from the end of the table and slid it towards her. She leaned over it with a furrowed brow.


    "Th'' fuck am I lookin'' at?" She asked.


    "Funny thing about my Pip Boy... One of the features it has is a map making utility. What you''re looking at are maps of the interioryouts for the Crimson Caravan camp and the Silver Rush."


    We didn''t get to the Mojave Outpost until a little after noon. We probably would''ve gotten there sooner if we''d been able to use the I-15, but as far as I knew Sloan was still overrun with deathws... so we took the long way around. Out of a sense of morbid curiosity, I actually checked my Pip Boy''s map, and realized the path from the Lucky 38 to the Mojave Outpost taking the long way was almost 92 miles long.


    "Goddamn," Cass took a swig from her sk when the giant scrap-metal monument came into view. "I thought I was done with this fuckin'' ce."


    "Don''t worry, we won''t be here long," I said.


    Ranger Jackson was in an office at the back of one of the squat buildings in the Mojave Outpost. Like other NCR rangers, he was wearing a brown Stetson and a pair of mirrored shades... but I really had to keep myself fromughing when I walked into his office, if I''m honest. That Fu-Manchu mustache on his face made him look like an idiot. He was leaning back in his chair, and had his boots propped up on his desk.


    "Looks like we got a new visitor in the ol'' brahmin pen," Jackson took his feet off his desk and motioned for me to take a seat. Cass didn''t sit down, and instead leaned against the doorframe behind me. "And Miss Cassidy? I haven''t seen you for a couple of weeks now, right? What can I do for you?"


    "I have evidence of a caravan conspiracy," I said, reaching into my jacket and pulling out copies of the agreements and the letter I''d pulled from Gloria''s safe.


    "What is it? Let me see," Jackson took hold of the documents, and started looking over them - he even took his sunsses off. After a few minutes of looking over the documents, he set them down and looked back up at me. "All right... This is... this exins a lot of the lost caravans. Where did you get these?"


    "Where do you think? We investigated a couple of destroyed caravans, put the pieces together, and I stole those from the Silver Rush and the Crimson Caravan''s camp - proof that they''re the ones responsible."


    "I thought it was Legion work, but..." Jackson shook his head, and put his sunsses back on.


    "Can y''get it to th'' right people back west?" I heard Cass ask from behind me. He nodded.


    "I can promise you that, but what happens after... not even God himself could move the Congress in or out of sessions. And this... this is a tricky matter," Jackson sighed, and clutched his head. "God, what a mess. People turning against each other when the Mojave''s at risk of falling? If the Republic''s sinkhole-progress doesn''t kill us, greed will," Heposed himself and got up from his chair; I got up as well, and he shook my hand. "Thank you for bringing me this."


    "Just make sure you get it to the NCR government." I said, turning to leave. Cass had already left the office.


    "I''ll do what I can," Jackson said. "Those folks that got killed need to be answered for."


    "I''m sure they''ll answer for it," I said, holding onto the doorframe before I left. "Just keep in mind when you send this that if Cass and I could figure this out, other people probably have as well. And there''s no guarantee those people won''t want blood."


    A few minutester, Cass and I were walking away from the outpost, back towards where I''d parked my car.


    "Well, that''s settled... I s''pose." Cass mumbled.


    "No it isn''t," I said simply. "That''s just the first part of the game. Getting that information back west will help in the long run, but we still have to settle things here in the Mojave." I looked over at Cass, and she smiled wide, with a gleam in her eyes.


    "We gonna make that bitch Gloria eat her hair?"


    "Damn straight. We''re gonna show those two how couriers and caravan bosses settle ounts. And I know just who can help us with that..."


    The Gun Runners factory south of Freeside''s east gate looked like a fortress. I hadn''t really paid any attention to it on any of my other visits, because I was more concerned with buying weapons and ammo from Vendortron in the kiosk. The chain link fence surrounding the factory was just one of the defenses - there was a big wall behind the fence that was probably concrete reinforced with steel rebar, razor wire around the top of the fence, and I think I even saw some sandbag walls that could be used by the guards inside as cover.


    I looked in through the front gate - past a sign that said in big red letters "TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT! THIS MEANS YOU!" - towards a pair of guards (one male, one female) in olive drabbat armor sitting behind a wall of sandbags. Both of them had rifles slung across their chests.


    "Hey," I called out to get their attention and rapped on the metal sign. Both of them looked up, and looked unamused. "Who''s in charge here?" I asked.


    "Who''s asking?" the female guard smoking the cigarette called back, not moving from her post. She looked incredibly serious.


    "I have some information I think your boss would like to have. I want to talk to him." The guy inbat armor chortled, and the female just kept staring daggers at me.


    "Yeah, well I want to be Queen of all Baja, and wear a shiny hat," she said, tossing her cigarette in my general direction. "But we don''t always get what we want, do we?" I sighed, and looked around at the fortifications... especially the razor wire. It looked new - like it had only been put up recently. I peered inside, and saw a few automated turrets as well.


    "Someone broke in here recently, didn''t they?" I asked, still looking around at the defenses. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two guards look at each other with worry. Good, they''d taken the bait. Now, to give the line a bit more ck before pulling them in... "Yeah, this definitely looks recent. You guys wouldn''t have put all this up unless someone had broken in and stolen something... maybe a prototype gun, or some top-secret weapon schematics, perhaps?"


    Almost before I knew what was happening, I was inside thepound, being led by the arm up some stairs by the guard, before finally being shoved in a chair on the top floor of the building. It was in the center of an office, with wire reinforced windows that looked out over every possible approach in the wastnd to the Gun Runner factory. I didn''t really have time to appreciate the view, given the two burly men inbat armor pointing assault rifles at my face.


    Directly across from me, however, was a veryrge man leaning against a metal desk. He had a jaw line so sharp it was like it had been chiseled out of rock He wasn''t wearing a suit, but he wasn''t wearingbat armor either; instead, he was covered in tactical gear. His heavily tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, almost disguising the two under-arm holsters he was wearing. On his belt was a tactical drop-leg holster that looked like it was made out Ker, and held a pistol so big that it could only be chambered for 12.7 mm rounds. Not only that, but there were at least three knives on him that I could see - there were probably more.


    "Alright," the big man said in a booming voice. "Start talking. What do you know about the break in two weeks ago?" I sat up straight in the chair, and adjusted my jacket.


    "You know, you''re a hard man to reach. I just wanted to talk some business, tell you about a mutual enemy we share." I looked at one of the guns pointed at me. "Do you think we can be civil enough to talk without your men threatening to blow my head off?" The man across from me raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down with an appraising gaze.


    "What mutual enemy?" He asked. His tone of voice wasn''t as harsh as before, and I could tell - he was ready to listen.


    "I have proof that the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff''s are the ones behind attacking a number of your weapons caravans - and that Alice gave the order to steal some weapon schematics from this very factory."


    "And how would you know that?" He narrowed his eyes. I started reaching into my jacket - and the two rifles pointing at my face clicked menacingly, inching forward. I raised my hands away, and instead of reaching in I just grabbed one edge of my jacket to open it up, and show them the inside.


    "I''m reaching for the proof, not a gun," I said, slowly pulling out the papers which rted to the Gun Runners. "The worst he can get from this is a paper cut. Settle down." I handed therge man the documents, and he took them from me, looking them over. A few minutester, he looked up, and nodded at both guards in the room; without a word, they lowered their weapons away from my face. He got up from the edge of the desk, and circled around to sit at it properly.


    "Alright. I admit, this exins a lot. You said you wanted to talk business, let''s talk. Let''s start with you telling me who you are."


    "My name is Sheason Fisher. But ever since I got shot in Goodsprings, people have taken to calling me the Courier." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two guards visibly stiffen at that. I did my best not to look smug. "Alright, I gave you my name, can I get yours?"


    "I''m Raphael, and I run this branch of the Gun Runners. I -" he was cut off suddenly by a sharp rap on the door. "Enter!" he barked. The female guard from downstairs opened the door.


    "Sorry to disturb you sir, but there''s a redhead woman at the front gate. Says she''s with the man we just..." she looked over to me, and pointed. "with him. She''s demanding we let her in. Normally, I''d tell her to get stuffed, but..."


    "Well?" Raphael turned to me questioningly. "Is she with you?" I nodded, and the female guard left the way she came.


    "Her name is Cassidy, and she''s with me. She used to run a caravan, but it got burned to the ground."


    "Okay. And that''s relevant because...?" Raphael asked. "I thought you were going to tell me about the break in." I just smiled.


    "I''m getting to that," I said. "Cass'' caravan was wiped out by Van Graff mercenaries, working under orders from Alice McLafferty. And if I read all those documents I gave you correctly, then there have been Gun Runner caravans that have been hit the same way. Am I right?" At first he didn''t do anything except stare at me from behind his desk... but then he started nodding slowly.


    "Yes. We haven''t admitted it publicly, but there have been a couple of caravans that haven''t made deliveries. What do you propose?"


    "When I stole the proof of what the Crimson Caravan and Van Graffs were up to, I also stole some weapon schematics from McLafferty''s safe. I''m guessing they''re the same weapon schematics that were stolen from here two weeks ago. I''m gonna give them back to you." I reached into my jacket, and pulled out the holotape, cing it on his desk. "I only ask one thing in return."


    "And that is?" Raphael said, taking the holotape and plugging it into his terminal. "Well, I''ll be damned..."


    "Cass wants to kill the people responsible, but we don''t exactly have the firepower to take them on. If you supply the weapons and armor, we can deliver a bit of wastnd justice to our mutual pain in the ass. Does that sound fair?"


    "Yeah... I think that sounds fair. Come with me," He got up from his desk, and led me out of his office.


    "So, where are we goin''?" Cass asked. She''d joined us as Raphael led me downstairs, past the front door, past the machines for making weapons and ammunition, and down another set of stairs in the back of the building. The three of us came to a stop in front of a veryrge metal door, with a big hatch wheel and some electronic keypads on the wall next to it.


    "You said you wanted some weapons to take on Gloria and Alice? Well, this is the armory. You should feel honored - you''re the first people who aren''t Gun Runners to take a look at this ce." He covered the keypad and punched in a series of numbers, pressed his eyes against a small visor above the keypad, which proceeded to scan his eyes. A panel on the wall slid open, and a small microphone extended with a mechanical whine. "Raphael Eugene Stoner," He spoke into the mic - and suddenly, a panel in the roof opened, and a turret lowered, pointing at Cass and me. I didn''t have time to be scared, because Raphael spoke into the mic again very quickly: "And two guests." The turret retracted and the panels on the ceiling slid back into ce.


    "There''s no way you installed all this in two weeks. How''d they break in here?" I asked, my heart still racing slightly.


    "They didn''t," he said, turning the hatch wheel on the door. "They stole the schematics from the machine shop upstairs, not from the armory." There was a loud hiss, and the metal door started to slowly slide inwards. And the sight that greeted my eyes was... there was no other word for it: glorious.


    "By the power of Grayskull!" Cass whispered next to me, her eyes wide as pie tes. Honestly, I couldn''t me her.


    There were rows and rows of metal shelves that greeted us from inside the room, and each shelf was filled with dozens of guns, of all makes, models, and sizes, all lined up next to one another to make use of the space most efficiently. Alongside the guns, there were shelves and shelves of ammunition, grenades, mines, explosives, even sets of various kinds ofbat armor inside metal lockers.


    "I''ll let you take what you need from our armory to pull off the hit against Gloria and Alice - within reason. Thing is, though, I think you''ll need some armor more than anything else - something that will stand up to a Van Graff sma rifle st. And I have just the thing." He walked into the armory, and motioned for us to follow him. "It''s based on something a team salvaged a few months ago from the Divide."


    "Th'' Divide?" Cass asked. "Th'' fuck''re you gonna find in th'' Divide, except sandstorms?" Raphael chuckled.


    "This," he said, opening a locker. Inside was a helmet and gas mask, sitting atop a set of advanced looking chest armor and what looked like a leather duster over it. "We''ve been working on developing a new armor based on some old world riot gear used by police SWAT units before the bombs dropped. It''s kind of like the ck Armor we make for the NCR Rangers... And I just happen to have two of them that still need to be field tested. You kill Alice and Gloria for me and tell me how these suits stand up to actualbat, and I''ll let you keep them."


    Cass and I looked at each other; I know I had a massive smile on my face, and so did she. The expression on her face - and especially in her eyes - was like a fat kid in a candy store, just full of glee and excitement at the prospect of some imminent violence.


    "This is... I dunno what t''say!" Cass said, looking around, just happy as a m. "I think I''m gonna cry, it''s just so beautiful in ''ere!"


    "I think you got yourself a deal..." I said, looking around at all the guns.


    If this couldn''t stack the odds in our favor, nothing would.

 Chapter 38: Assault

    Chapter 38: Assault


    <em>Hellodies and gentlemen, Mr. New Vegas here. You''re all so great and we''re gonna keep you listening all day. Got a news sh that was just pushed across my desk here. Apparently, an anonymous source in the NCR has reported Great Khans using trained deathws up in the foothills of Mount Charleston. I''ve heard a lot of wild stories in my day listeners, but I gotta tell you - that one takes the cake. Got some Pete Thomas and Gerhard Tredeing upter on in the program, but now it''s time to ask the question: "Where Have You Been All My Life?"</em>


    After we got back from the Gun Runners, we spent the rest of the afternoon going over the ns, and taking inventory of all the equipment we''d acquired. Cass was especially proud of what she''d picked up from the armory: an AA-12, an incredibly rare and powerful fully automatic shotgun. ording to Raphael, that shotgun was capable of firing 360 rounds a minute... which seemed a bit on the overkill side, since the drum magazines that it came with only held 32 rounds each.


    While we were going over the ns, I''d managed to convince Boone to help us assault the Silver Rush... but only the Silver Rush. He wasn''t going to help us storm the Crimson Caravan to kill Alice. Apparently, the difference was that the thugs working for the Van Graff''s were mercenaries, and he had no problem killing mercs; most of the people working for the Crimson Caravan, on the other hand, were civilians - NCR citizens - just trying to make a living. He didn''t really cotton to the notion of killing his fellow countrymen. He said that he''d turn a blind eye this one time so Cass could get her revenge - but if it turned into a habit, well... things could get nasty with him very quickly.


    Cass and I were wearing the riot gear Raphael had given us from the Gun Runner armory, and Boone was wearing his USMC armor. From a distance (and in the dark) we could probably pass for a couple of veteran NCR Rangers wearing ck Armor... or people who worked for the Gun Runners. Which suited me fine, honestly.


    Before we even left the 38, I made sure everyone''s helmet radio was synced up to the same radio frequency, and had everyone (including myself) cycle through the various vision modes on the helmet - low light, thermal, IFF spotter - just to make sure they worked. Cass found all the checks and the preparation a bit boring, but Boone was doing all the checks with practiced military efficiency. If I''m honest, I didn''t enjoy wearing the damn helmet that went along with the armor. It was way too hot and stifling. I didn''t see how Boone was able to wear it so easily.


    It was well after dark when we finally left. I was driving my Corvega, Cass was in the passenger seat, and Boone was in the back, sitting next to a veritable mountain of weapons and explosives. Because this was a pseudo ndestine operation, I turned off the headlights on my car as soon as I left Vegas Boulevard for a side street and was driving using the night vision from my bionic eyes. Certain that no one had seen us (and no one was following us) I pulled us next to the building I''d used to scout out the entrance to the Silver Rush the other night.


    "Boone, you''ve got three minutes. Radio us when you''re in position." I said, my voice oddly muffled and with a slight reverberating quality as it passed through the helmet''s respirator. I got a nod from Boone as he grabbed his rifle and a length of cable, and exited the car. Without a sound, he slipped into the building and disappeared.


    "Alright," I said to Cass, driving away from the building. "I''m gonna drive us around the block, give Boone some time to get set up on the roof."


    "You sure this s''a good idea?" Cass muffled voice sounded next to me. She clutched at her auto shotgun tightly as I drove us along in total darkness.


    "Don''t tell me you''re getting cold feet?" I teased.


    "Fuck no!" she practically yelled. "It''s just... this n''ve yours seems t''need lot more precision than we usually ask fer."


    "What, you don''t think we can pull it off?" I asked. Cass shrugged.


    "I''m jus'' smellin'' a lotta ''if''in'' off this n, tha''s all..."


    "Don''t worry about it, Cass," I said, turning a corner. "We''ve got this."


    There was a crackle of static in my ear as the system in my helmet came to life. I heard Boone''s voice, and could tell he was whispering, but his voice came over the internal headset as clear as if he was right next to me.


    "This is Boone. I''m set up here."


    "Understood," I said, killing the engine and parking the Corvega in an alley behind the Silver Rush. "When I give the signal, open up." I reached into the back seat, grabbed one of the rifles, a few spare ammo magazines, a few grenades, and turned to Cass. "Alright, get military. It''s go time."


    "Let''s do it," Cass said, pping the drum magazine in ce, and pulling back the charging handle on the top. I went first, and Cass fell in behind me. We moved away from the car, and hugged the walls, until I came to the corner. I peered around, and saw the entrance of the Silver Rush at the opposite corner. There were two guards standing on either side of the door, just likest night, and everything within 15 yards of the entrance was illuminated.


    "Bring the noise," I said, touching the side of my helmet to make sure the radio was transmitting. Almost immediately, things started exploding. There was a bang from a muffled sniper rifle, and one of the street lights exploded in a shower of ss and igniting phosphor. Another bang, and a second streetlight was vaporized in a sh. A third bang, and the light above the Silver Rush door disappeared in a shower of sparks. A fourth bang, and one of the guards - who had been looking around with his sma rifle frantically, trying to figure out where the fire wasing from - copsed in a heap. There was one final bang, and the head of thest guard was thrown back, his whole body spasmed, and he smacked into the brick wall with a heavy thud.


    "Good work. Alright, let''s move in." I set off around the corner, practically running toward the front door. I scanned the surroundings with my night vision - so far, I didn''t see anyone running toward (or away from) the noise. I heard Cass'' footsteps behind me, and when I looked up at the building where Boone had fired from, I saw him start to rappel down the side of the building. Amazingly, the three of us ended up at the front door at practically the same time.


    "Alright, time for the second hurdle. Switch to the spotter." I said, pulling two of therge tubr grenades off my chest and handing one each to Cass and Boone. I tapped a button on the side of my helmet, switched the vision mode to the IFF spotter mode, and almost immediately Cass and Boone were surrounded by a faint green outline. I pulled out a third grenade that hadrge circr cutouts on the top and bottom, and put a hand on the door handle. "On three. Ready?"


    "Ready," Cass said, clutching the pin on the grenade, and eagerly anticipating the imminent violence. All I got from Boone was a nod.


    "One... Two..." I knocked away the pin with my thumb and twisted the door handle. "Three!" I opened the door a crack, tossed in my grenade, Boone and Cass tossed in theirs, and I shut the door as quickly as I could. There was a muffled whump from behind the door - which meant the shbang I''d thrown in had gone off. Hopefully, that would incapacitate the half a dozen Van Graff thugs inside... and if not, then the two canisters of tear gas Boone and Cass threw in would turn anyone not rendered blind and deaf by the shbang into a crying, dribbling, mucus filled mess.


    I readied my rifle, and when Cass and I kicked in both sides of the double doors, it was like we were acting as one. A billowing cloud of semi-opaque tear gas flooded out of the doors. I''d never seen tear gas fill a space that quickly. The three of us werepletely unaffected since we were all wearing gas masks, and I could see faint red outlines of all the Van Graff thugs clearly through the smoke thanks to the IFF spotter. There were seven hostiles in total, and they were all staggering around,pletely disoriented.


    This was so easy, I almost felt sorry for what was about to happen next.


    Almost.


    "OPEN UP!"


    The air was full of the sound of rifles discharging and bullets flying through the air as Boone and I fired at every Van Graff thug in front of us. With VATS, it meant that every three-round burst from the rifle dropped another Van Graff Thug. Because they were all wearingbat armor (but not helmets), I didn''t bother aiming for anything except headshots. Boone was equally as efficient at killing the mercs... but if I''m honest, our efforts werepletely overshadowed by Cass'' shotgun.


    Most shotguns, when they fire, bark like an angry dog. This thing absolutely <em>roared</em>. I''ve never heard a shotgun that sounded quite like that. It was so damn loud, and fired so fast, it sounded like a fucking deathw! If it wasn''t on my side, this thing would be pants-soilingly terrifying. I only got a chance to kill two of them, and by the time I swung around to kill a third, all I saw was thest merc''s head explode in a shower of red sausage.


    "Damn, that thing''s loud!" Boone said once the gunfire died down. If even he thought it was loud... I scanned the room: only the three of us in the doorway were still standing. The gunfire had disced the tear gas slightly, but it was hanging thick in the air, settling around the floor.


    "Alright, Boone, get this door sealed up," I said, moving deeper into the room. "Cass and I will open up the back and clear out the upstairs. Once you''re done here, ready the surprise that''s in my car." He nodded once, and Cass fell in behind me.


    "Surprise?" she asked as the two of us made our way through the chain-link maze of wire and metal, stepping over the slowly cooling bodies.


    "You''ll see. Just make sure to check your corners - there''s bound to be more of theming." Cass and I came to the end of the chain-link maze, and stood before the door leading to the back room and the stairs leading to the 2nd floor. Both of us took positions on either side of the door, and I gave her a swift nod. She took aim with the AA-12, turning the handle and lock into a mass of twisted metal. In a sh, I kicked in the door and scanned the interior of the room down the sights of my rifle for more targets.


    "Clear!" I shouted, moving forward to the stairs. I pressed myself against the wall, and looked up the staircase. So far, nobody wasing, but I heard the sound of boots from above. "Cass, we''ve got iing. Get that loading door unlocked, I''ll cover the stairs."


    "Got it!" I half heard through the helmet, and half through the speakers next to my ear. It was creating an odd sort of stereo sound in my head. I didn''t have any time to dwell on it, though - the first of the thugs upstairs rounded the corner.


    "Contact!" I yelled, squeezing the trigger as soon as he came into view. My assault rifle barked, and spat out a pair of three-round bursts. Some of the bullets sparked against his chest armor, but most of the bullets hit him in the neck and face. Ribbons of blood erupted from the impacts as he fell backwards. The radar on my Pip Boy beeped - three more wereing. I grabbed one of the frag grenades off my belt and thumbed away the pin. As quick as I could, I tossed the grenade against the back wall at the top of the stairs and watched it ricochet around the corner.


    "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" I gripped my rifle tight, and braced myself against the wall I was using for cover. Less than half a secondter, the grenade exploded. The walls shook, and a piece of ster fell from the ceiling above me.


    "Th'' door''s open!" Cass said, rushing past me up the stairs. "Let''s go!" I didn''t even get a chance to say anything. I followed her up the stairs as fast as I could, but I heard the unmistakable roar of her shotgun before I each reached the top.


    I rounded the corner, jumping over the bloody and mangled corpses that had been hit by the frag grenade, trying to catch up with Cass. She was standing in the middle of the hall, firing her shotgun down the hallway. The gun went quiet, even though I could see she still had her finger on the trigger. The drum magazine fell to the floor, and Cass reached behind her for the spare...


    There was a sh, and a beam of light cut through the air at around chest height. Cass staggered, and fell backwards. I couldn''t tell if Cass cried out in pain or not. I know I yelled. I''m not entirely sure what I yelled, though.


    I didn''t know if Cass was alive or dead. I didn''t have time to check. I rounded the corner past her as quick as I could, and was met with an image of carnage. The hallway was filled with maybe 3 or 4 bodies, and one huge man inbat armor at the end of the hall carrying aser rifle: Jean-Baptiste. I leveled the rifle, switched from burst to full auto, slipped into VATS, and fired at the male Van Graff sibling as fast as I could.


    He started running towards me as I fired at him, and anotherser st cut through the air. It must have missed my head by inches. Most of the bullets from my rifle either hit his chest te and ricocheted, or shot wide. Right when I thought none of the rounds were going to find their mark, hisser rifle sparked, and the end of it exploded; the side of the rifle ripped itself open in a flurry of shrapnel. He dropped the rifle, but kept running at me. I aimed higher at his face, hoping he was distracted, when my gun finally clicked empty.


    The two of us were less than a foot and a half away from one another now. I swung the stock of my rifle at him, trying to use it as a club, but he grabbed it before it could connect - and shoved it back at me, into my face. It connected with my helmet, which softened the blow, but it still hurt. He shoved the rifle away from me and I couldn''t keep my grip, so it ttered to the ground.


    I collected my wits long enough to register a massive fist heading towards me. I ducked, and could almost feel him miss. I looked up, and saw a gap in his chest armor, on the side of his torso under his arm. I summoned up as much strength as I could muster, and punched him in the kidneys. I didn''t wait to see if he was affected by it, because I reached up with my entire body, grabbed the front cor of his armor, and pulled him down, smashing his face into the front of my helmet. There was a crack, and he staggered backwards, clutching at his face with one of his hands.


    He swung at me again, and I was still able to duck... but what I wasn''t expecting was his other hand reaching up to grab me by the neck. He pulled me up, but didn''t quite lift me up off the floor. He looked at me with a face twisted up in rage and pain, blood pouring out of his broken nose. As he tried to choke me, I was reminded of my fight with Aurelius of Phoenix, back at Cottonwood Cove.


    On the plus side, at least I learn from my mistakes.


    Rather than fruitlessly trying to pry the hand from around my neck, I reached behind me, grabbed the switchde on my belt, and plunged it into his forearm as fast and deep as I could. He howled in pain, let me go, and clutched his arm. I was just about to try kicking out his knees so I could tackle him to the ground, when something really surprising happened.


    "Sheason..." Cass'' voice sounded in my ear. It was barely above a whisper, and sounded strained, but it was still Cass. "Get out of the way."


    I dropped to the floor as quickly as I could, clutched my helmet, and rolled away from Jean-Baptiste towards the wall out of the way. Cass'' shotgun roared from behind me, and when I looked up, I saw Jean-Baptiste - or, the red, bloody, pulpy mess that he used to be - copse backwards in a broken heap on the floor.


    I got up, and looked backwards - Cass was still lying on the floor, but was holding the shotgun with one hand, and the front of it was propped up against her right knee. Her head rolled back, and she dropped the shotgun; I heard her let out a heavy sigh over the headset.


    "Fucking hell, Cass," I said, getting up and moving towards her. "I thought you were done for."


    "So did I," she said, coughing slightly.


    "Are you alright? Need any stimpacks?" I said, standing over her and extending my hand to help her up. She chuckled grimly, grabbed my hand, and a momentter was on her feet.


    "Nah, m''fine. Jus'' clipped me, s''all." She brushed away her coat and clutched at her chest - the side of the armor seemed a bit singed, and there was a slightly smoldering hole in the back of the coat - and then bent down to pick up the shotgun. "C''mon, let''s finish this." I nodded, grabbing my rifle and reloading it.


    There was only one door in the hallway that was still closed - Gloria''s corner office. I decided it was probably a good idea if I went first, so I readied my rifle and kicked in the door before Cass could get ahead of me... and was immediately hit in the chest with a bolt of sma. The impact knocked me back what felt like five feet, and all the air was forced out of my lungs. I was in a bit of a daze, but was coherent enough to recognize the roar of the AA-12, and the sound of a woman howling in pain.


    "Sheason? You alright?" I heard over my headset. I perked my head up as far as I could without actually getting up, and saw Cass pointing the barrel of her shotgun at Gloria''s face; there was a red smear on the back wall, and I realized that Gloria no longer had a right hand.


    "Just got the wind knocked out of me," I said, appraising the damage. There was a small, smoldering indentation on my chest armor about an inch wide, but it wasn''t deep at all. I gotta hand it to the Gun Runners - they do good work.


    "Who are you?" I heard Gloria ask hurriedly. "NCR assassins? Hitmen? I can guarantee, whatever they''re paying you - I can triple it!" As I tried to pick myself up, I heard Cass start tough.


    "This isn''t ''bout money, bitch. This s''just good ol'' fashioned revenge!" Gloria looked, for the first time, legitimately worried.


    "So... who are you then?"


    "Me?" I said, grabbing the doorframe and picking myself up. Gloria''s eyes went wide; I don''t think she expected me to get back up. "I''m just the monkey in the wrench, Van Graff. The fly in the ointment. The pain in the ass." Cass pressed the barrel of the shotgun into Gloria''s forehead, pressing her further back against the wall.


    "As fer me, I''m Rose of Sharon Cassidy. And you''re ''bout t''stop bein'' a major pain in <em>my</em> ass." A sh of recognition shed over Gloria''s face - for the brief moment she still had one. There was a boom, and everything above her lower jaw simply disappeared into a fine red mist.


    For a minute, neither of us moved. I just leaned up against the doorframe, trying to catch my breath, and Cass stood over Gloria''s corpse, looking ready to pump more shotgun rounds into her for good measure. You know... just in case she got up after having the top of her head blown off.


    "So..." I said, pushing myself off the doorframe. "You alright?" I saw her nod.


    "Oh, yeah. Trimmin'' th'' Van Graff family tree like this... I could almost hear th'' dead behind me guidin'' m''hand. Now that bitch is in hell, they''ll have a shot at her, too. Now, let''s go''n settle ounts with McLafferty."


    "Sounds good to me. Let''s loot the ce." I gave her a thumbs up.


    "Music to my ears." I could almost hear her smile.


    When I suggested we loot the ce, I wasn''t kidding. In less than five minutes, the two of us had grabbed everything of value in the storerooms upstairs - along with the contents of Gloria''s safe - and tossed it in my car. All the cash, tons of energy weapons, dozens upon dozens of small energy cells, microfusion cells, electron charge packs... not to mention the grenades and the mines. There was one thing that made both Cass and I pause, however. It was in one of the storerooms, and when I opened the container it was in, she and I just sort of... stopped.


    "Is... is that what I think it is?" I asked. Cass looked over my shoulder, and let out a low whistle.


    "Fuck me, tha''s <em>gorgeous</em>." She reached out, and ran a gloved hand along it. "Yer grabbin'' this too, right?"


    "Fucking right I am!" I said, barely able to contain my excitement.


    The weapon inside the crate was a gatlingser - imagine a minigun, but instead of shooting bullets, it firessers. But this wasn''t an ordinary gatlingser. This was a Sprtel-Wood 9700. I remember seeing a replica of one in a museum in Shady Sands once. Apparently, these were the original prototype gatlingsers, and it was a truly awe inspiring, absolutely magnificent piece of craftsmanship. Only 10 had ever been made before the war... and only three survived the apocalypse. Part of me wanted to know how in hell the Van Graff''s had even gotten a hold of a gun this rare and powerful... but the other half just didn''t care.


    By the time we''d gotten everything stowed in my car, Boone was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. His rifle was slung across his back, and in his hands was a ck detonator with a red trigger. Behind him, I could still see pretty thick clouds of tear gas lingering in the main room.


    "Are we ready to go?" Boone asked, handing me the detonator. In response, I tossed my car keys to him, which he caught almost instantly.


    "Yeah. I think we should get very, very far away from here real quick." Cass was already out of the building and in my car. I got in the back, next to a veryrge pile of stolen weapons, and Boone got in the drivers seat. "Let''s get the fuck out of here." He didn''t say anything. He just nodded, fired up the car, and started driving us away from the Silver Rush.


    "So," Cass turned around in her seat. "Y''never told me what th'' surprise was."


    "It''s just a little something," I said, holding up the detonator. "Hey, Boone? Mind turning us onto Fremont Street? I want her to see this."


    Next thing I knew, the Corvega was driving down Fremont street, pointing at the east entrance to Freeside; the Silver Rush was maybe 250, 300 yards behind us. I looked over my shoulder out the back window, hoped we were a safe enough distance away, and pulled the trigger on the detonator.


    The ground rumbled and shook violently before I saw anything. A split second after the ground shook, every single window in the Silver Rush exploded outwards in a shower of ss and a mass of fire. Boiling clouds of me and smoke surged out of every crack, and rose upwards, curling up into themselves like a small mushroom cloud. The top floors that were already mostly copsed started to move first, and fell inward on themselves; brick and mortar crumbled like paper hit with a stiff breeze. The Silver Rush sign sparked and twisted in the heat, before being consumed by the fire and disappearing altogether. The bottom two floors crumbled, and disappeared beneath a giant wall of rising fire, smoke, and dust.


    "Holy fuck!" Cass eximed, gripping the back of her seat. "What th'' fuck was that!"


    "While we were upstairs, killing Gloria and looting the ce, Boone was lining all the support columns in the building with C-4." I tried to say as casually as I could. It was surprisingly difficult, if I''m honest - explosions always seemed to get my adrenaline up. "What did you think he was doing?"


    "Boone, remember: when I give the signal,e around to pick us up at the rendezvous." He nodded, and roared away. Cass and I were on our own now, just outside the Crimson Caravan''s walls.


    "After th'' Silver Rush, this ought ''ta be a cakewalk," I heard Cass say from behind me. I hugged the wall, and checked around the corner - there was only one guard by the gate, just like before.


    "Don''t get cocky. Remember - most of these people are civilians, so we gotta walk soft till things get loud. Don''t kill anyone you don''t have to." I heard her scoff from behind me.


    "Far''s I care, all these fucks''r responsible..." She practically growled. I rounded the corner, keeping as close to the wall as I could. The guard was leaning up against the wall, seemingly asleep. I crept past him - literally, right in front of him - and he didn''t budge. I was about to enter thepound in earnest, when I heard a sharp crack from behind me, like somethingrge and heavy hitting a skull, followed by a thud. I looked over my shoulder and saw Cass standing over the guard, who was now copsed in a heap on the ground, with a small red streak leaking out of his forehead.


    "Yeah, that''s subtle." She couldn''t see me, but I was smiling behind the gas mask. She just shrugged.


    "Hey, he''s not dead. What''re youinin'' ''bout?"


    Things went much smoother after that. Just likest night, there wasn''t anyone around... except a couple of brahmin in some pens at the far end of thepound. Everyone was asleep, I think... but I looked ahead, to the building that contained McLaffertey''s office.


    There was a light on somewhere in that building.


    I turned to Cass and put a finger against my helmet''s respirator. Hopefully, she got the message, and I snuck across the field toward the building, trying to keep myself from making any noise. The two of us eventually got to the same side door I''d broken intost night.


    "Alright," I whispered to Cass. "I''m gonna check the door, see if it''s locked. If it is, we go loud, blow the doors off, find McLafferty, and put two in her skull."


    "Blow''r fuckin'' skull off, y''mean." Cass leveled her shotgun at the door. I sighed... but leveled my rifle at the door, just the same. Very carefully and very softly, I grabbed the door handle, and turned... Amazingly enough, the door was unlocked.


    "Let''s go," I whispered. I pushed the door open, and crept into the office very slowly and very carefully. At the end of the hall, light spilled out of McLafferty''s office. The closer I got, the more distinct the sound of typing became. I came to stop right before her office, and leaned against the doorframe, peering in. There she was, sitting at her desk and typing at the terminal on her desk. Her hair had much more grey in it than her pictures seemed to indicate. She was focused entirely on theputer.


    This should be interesting.


    I motioned with my hand for Cass to follow me, and rounded the corner as silently as I could. I aimed my rifle right at her head, but still she wasn''t paying attention. So I decided to get her attention.


    "Boo." I said, just loud enough for her to hear. She nced with her eyes quickly over in my direction, and went back to the terminal... but then her eyes went wide, and she started freaking out.


    "WHAT THE-!" She looked back and forth frantically between the two of us. "Who are you?! What are you doing here?" I saw one of her hands try and move beneath her desk. I just moved closer, pointing my rifle at her face.


    "Ah-ah-ah. Hands where I can see them, McLafferty." She raised both her hands slowly, and kept looking back and forth between the two of us.


    "Who are you?" She asked again, but surprisingly much more calm than before. "If you''re mercenaries, I can offer four times what they''re paying you to kill me to just fuck off."


    "Four times? Y''hear that?" Cass said with a darkugh, "Gloria only offered us three."


    "Four times nothing is still nothing," I said, lowering my rifle; Cass was pointing her massive shotgun at Alice''s face, so I went to guard the door. "It''s funny how everyone seems to think this is about money, isn''t it?"


    "Not so funny..." Cass growled. "Everything th'' two''ve them did t''me, t''was jus'' fer more fuckin'' money..."


    "Did to..." McLafferty whispered. "Who are you then?"


    "Don''t ye recognize m''voice, McLafferty?" I heard a click from behind me, but it wasn''t a click from a gun; I nced over my shoulder, and saw her start to unbuckle her helmet. "Course, I don''t imagine y''would... y''always send yer minions t''do yer dirty work, don''t ye? Like when y''sent someone t''burn m''caravan... an'' when they came t''buy it, y''didn''t show up then, either..." Cass pulled off her helmet, and dropped it to the ground.


    "...Sharon Cassidy..." McLafferty breathed. She cleared her throat. "How did you figure it out?"


    "Wasn''t all that difficult," Cass walked forward, pressing the barrel of her shotgun against McLafferty''s head. "I jus'' found th'' trail''ve blood an'' snake venom, an'' followed that. Anyst words b''fore I paint th'' walls with yer brains?"


    "You kill me with that," McLafferty looked up at the shotgun pointed at her face. "You''ll wake up everyone in thepound. Everyone has guns. Two of you against 40 or 50 people? You''ll never be able to fight them all and make it out alive."


    "Yeah, because it''s not like we have an escape route nned out, or anything." I said sarcastically. "C''mon Cass. Just kill her and be done with it."


    "You don''t have the guts to kill me," McLafferty said. "If you were going to kill me, you''d have don-"


    She was cut off mid sentence by a shotgun st ripping through her face. The back wall was sttered with a spray of red gore. McLafferty and the chair she was sitting in copsed into a heap on the ground. I was expecting Cass to pick up her helmet so we could leave, but instead she stood over Alice McLafferty''s corpse... and started firing her shotgun. She just kept her finger down on the trigger, emptying shotgun shell after shotgun shell into the corpse. I couldn''t actually see her (because her desk was in the way) but I could imagine what she was being turned into, and it involved a lot of ground chuck.


    Finally, the shotgun stopped firing... but she didn''t. The AA-12 kept clicking, trying to fire shells that had already been spent. Outside, I could hear voices, and my Pip Boy''s radar started registering motion. We had to get out of here, and get out quick. I grabbed Cass'' helmet in one hand and clutched her shoulder with the other.


    "Cass," I said, trying to turn her around. She shrugged me off, still trying to fire. "Cass, c''mon! She''s dead. We gotta get out of here." Eventually I turned her around, and she seemed to snap out of it. She blinked a couple of times, looking around.


    "Right... right..." She started breathing heavily, like she was out of breath. I shoved her helmet against her chest armor, and she grabbed it. Her hand was trembling slightly. While she was putting her helmet on, I moved off with my rifle at the ready, towards the front door of the building. I peered out of the window, and could see movement through the smoked ss.


    "Cass, we''ve got iing," I said, taking a pair of grenades off my belt. "You almost ready to go?"


    "Yeah," I heard her say through my headset. "Let''s just... yeah, let''s get out''ve here." She came up behind me and I handed her one of the grenades.


    "Alright then. On three. One... Two..." I pulled the pin on the grenade and shoved my shoulder against the door, flinging it open. "Three!" The two of us threw a pair of the same kind of tear gas grenades as before out into the courtyard. Trails of opaque smoke started to flood the area, and I tossed another grenade out, for good measure. I heard a few gunshots start to fire as soon as the smoke appeared - a few pistols, maybe a 10mm submachine gun - but none of the shots even came close to us.


    "C''mon, let''s go!" I said, rushing out into the clouds of tear gas. The canisters really did spread out the gas quickly. I switched my eyes to thermal, and saw the heat signatures of about half a dozen people around. Two of the thermal blobs were writhing on the ground, clutching at their faces.


    "There they are! After them!" I heard a voice off in the distance yell. There was the bark of a submachine gun, and a few bullets impacted near my feet as the two of us ran towards the exit. We were maybe 15 feet away from the exit of thepound, and the tear gas was still thick. I urged Cass forward.


    "Go! Go!" I backed up, aimed my rifle in the air, and fired off a few rounds; off in the distance, I could see the heat signatures of a few people duck their heads, and start to take cover. I turned back around and saw that I was almost at the exit, so I started running. Cass was running in front of me, her shotgun slung across her back. I grabbed thest shbang off my belt, pulled the pin, and dropped it behind me. I rounded the corner just as it went off. With any luck, that would slow them down long enough for us to make our escape.


    "Boone!" I said, tapping the side of my helmet and refused to break stride. "This is the signal! We''d really appreciate a pick up right now!"


    "Got it," I heard over my headset. "On my way."


    I looked over my shoulder as the two of us kept running - I didn''t see anyone behind us. Before I knew it, my Corvega screeched to a halt in front of us. The two of us practically dove into the car, and Boone didn''t even wait for the doors to close before he put his foot down and we roared off.


    I discarded my rifle onto the pile of weapons we''d stolen from the Silver Rush, and started unbuckling my helmet as quickly as I could. As soon as my head was free, I gasped, breathing in lungful after lungful of air that hadn''t been pushed through a filter.


    "Fuckin'' hell, Boone! How are you still wearing your helmet?" I asked, relieved to not have something pressing down on my head. "I mean, that''s the most ufortable thing I''ve ever worn. Is there a trick to it I don''t know about?" Boone nodded once curtly.


    "There is. The trick is not minding that it hurts." I couldn''t tell if Boone was being sarcastic or not, so I turned to Cass - who had taken off her helmet, just like me.


    "Well, you killed McLafferty. Not a bad bit of work, I''d say. You ask me, I call this a win."


    "Yeah..." Cass muttered softly. "We win."

 Chapter 39: Double Vision

    Chapter 39: Double Vision


    It was veryte. Boone, Cass, and I got back from our little assassination mission about half an hour ago, and most of that time was spent carting our haul inside... as well as getting out of the armor. For all it''s protective qualities, it was still pretty ufortable, and very, very hot. It was nice to feel air around my limbs again.


    I was just about to copse into bed and get some rest - nightmare free rest, if my current string of luck held out - when I heard a series of sharp knocks on the door to my room.


    "Sheason! Sheason, y''in there?" Cass voice was muffled, but still distinct from behind the door. I just sighed, and got up off the edge of the bed. I barely turned the door handle, when the door flung open (missing my face by inches), a hand reached into the room, grabbed me by the shirt, and dragged me out into the hallway.


    "Whoa! Hey! What the fuck? Cass? What''s going on?" She turned her head to look at me, but didn''t let go of my shirt. From the looks of things, she was leading me to the elevator.


    "C''mon, we''re goin'' out." She punched the down button.


    "Out? What do you mean out? We just got back, it''s the middle of the night, and I''m exhausted." I pointed a thumb back at my room - which had a nice,fy bed that seemed to be calling my name. Cass would have none of it, however.


    "Sheason, there''s two things y''oughtta know right now." She finally let go of my shirt. "Th'' first, is that this whole situation t''night has left me fuckin'' wired. I can''t jus'' go t''sleep after all that. <em>You</em> might b''able t''go t''sleep after somethin'' like that, but I sure''s fuck can''t. I gotta... I dunno, I jus'' gotta go''n do somethin'', y''know?"


    "And the second?" I asked, trying to straighten my shirt. She just smirked, and poked me dead center in the chest a couple of times.


    "Th'' second is you gotta learn t''cut loose ev''ry once in a while. Y''always gotta be so serious! So, t''fix these two problems, you an'' I are gonna go on a bar crawl t''night." The elevator behind her dinged, and the door slid open silently. Before I knew what was happening, she grabbed my hand, and pulled me in.


    "So... where are we going, anyway?" Cass and I had been wandering aimlessly down Vegas Boulevard for a few minutes before I finally spoke up. Despite howte it was, the Strip was still very lively, with plenty of crowds walking up and down the street; every casino was lit up around us , creating an almost moving ocean made out of neon lights. She just shrugged.


    "I dunno. Haven''t really decided where t''go first."


    "First?" I asked. She just nodded her head, and smiled wide.


    "Well, yeah. Whole point''ve a bar <em>crawl</em> is t''go t''lots''ve bars. Can''t just go t''one, stay there th'' whole night, an'' call it good."


    "I guess so," I said with a nod. "I''ll be honest, thest time I went bar hopping was in New Reno. The way I hear it, the people who lived there held city-wide crawls every chance they got before the bombs... and then just kept drinking after the world got blown to shit." Cass nodded, and continued.


    "I figure, if we stay on th'' Strip, we should have plenty''ve choice. No need t''go into Freeside t''night." She put a pair of fists in front of her mouth, and made an exploding motion with her fingers.


    "Wanting to stay away from Ground Zero then, huh?" I asked. She nodded.


    "Fer a little while, t''least. They prolly didn''t recognize us, but I''m jus'' not feelin'' th'' Atomic Wrangler t''night, y''know?"


    "Wait, hang on," I held up a hand to stop her. "What bars are around the Strip? The only actual bar I know of that isn''t in Freeside is this one bar I went to in the middle of Bazooko''s Circus."


    "Where?" Cass looked confused, but shook it off. "You really haven''t done much ''round here, have you?"


    "Not really. I''ve been kind of busy, you know?" Cass just shook her head, and made a couple of "tsk" sounds.


    "Y''should always set aside some valuable drinkin'' time. Anyway, where''s this Bazooko''s Circus ce? I don''t think I''ve ever been there."


    "I don''t know how you could miss it..." I tried to hold back a chuckle. I don''t think it worked.


    In what felt like no time at all, Cass and I were standing in front of the neon monstrosity that is Bazooko''s Circus. I was about to head in, when I nced behind me and realized that Cass was still just looking up at the garish casino. I couldn''t tell if she was confused or disgusted.


    "Well? What do you think of it?" I asked. At first, she didn''t respond. She did tilt her head to the side, as if looking at it sideways would make the spectacle make any kind of sense.


    "It''s... s''like a unicorn vomited up a rainbow an'' a whole load''ve confetti, an'' then somebody shoved a plug up his cock-hole to make ''im explode."


    "See, I knew you''d like it." I said, patting her on the back and doing my best to direct her into the casino. "I''ll be honest, I''m d you can see it at all. For a long while there, I thought this ce was just a hallucination brought on by exhaustion." The two of us crossed the threshold into madness, and Cass finally stopped trying to look at the casino, and instead looked at me with a questioning gaze.


    "That happen a lot?"


    "What, exhaustion?" I tried to y it off like a joke. "Sure, all the time. I thought that was just a normal part of living. Don''t tell me people have been lying to me about that all these years!" I put a hand to my mouth in fake-shock.


    "No," Cass could''ve swapped that for the word ''idiot'' or ''moron'' or ''fuckhead'' and it probably would''ve carried the same tone. "Hallucinations." I just shrugged.


    "What can I say? It''s been a weird couple of weeks. Now, where is that carousel..."


    "Carousel?" Before Cass could ask any more questions, the two of us were interrupted by bright lights and a voiceing from above us. I looked up, and thes and trapeze setup that I''d seen empty before were now lit up, and full of people swinging around above us.


    "LAAAAADIIIIIIES AAAAAAND GEEEENTLEMEEEEEN!" the voice on the loudspeaker above our head boomed and echoed all around us. "BOYS AND GIRLS! VISITORS OF AAAAAAAAAALL AGES! THE BAZOOKO''S CASINO CIRCUS IS PROUD TO PRESENT... THE FLYING FALLINI''S!"


    The next thing I knew, a spotlight shone on one of the people standing on arge raised tform near the ceiling. It looked like a pregnant woman standing in front of an old US g, wearing an obnoxiously pink leotard that sparkled in the spotlight -plete with frilly tutu. She grabbed a trapeze swing, flew through the air, let go, did a triple somersault in the air before falling,nded on the, and then the bounced her right back up in the air. Another one of the people above us was swinging on a trapeze by his legs; in his hands was a big white hammer with a handle wrapped in sparkly red ribbon. By the time she was in the air, he was right next to her - and smacked her stomach with the hammer. There was a sound like aedy bicycle horn, then a pop, and a baby - wearing a stic see-through space helmet and wearing his own sparkly jumpsuit - wasunched through the air out from between the woman''s legs. He was caught in midair by a pair of women on the opposite tform wearing nothing but a couple ck and white stars covering their private parts. The music swelled, and there was a shower of confetti that exploded everywhere.


    "What the fuck did I just watch?" I asked, after my brain had finally processed what I''d seen. I looked down, and realized that Cass was equally confused.


    "Yup," She said finally. "Definitely not drunk ''nuff yet. Where''s this bar you''ve told me nothin'' ''bout?"


    "What can I getcha?" Joey, the ghoul bartender, was behind the bar at the CarosHELL of Dreams. He looked exactly the same as before - face still painted like a skull, still wearing half a tux, still wearing gloves with glow in the dark fingerbones on the top. And, of course, he still had the shabby top hat perched at what I can only assume he thought was a rather rakish angle atop his head. I think he must just say ''What can I getcha?'' on instinct, because when he looked up, he shed a cracked, crooked smile. "Oh, hey! I remember you. You''re... uh..." He snapped his fingers one... two... third time lucky. "Sheason, right? That''s it."


    "Hey Joey! I''m surprised you remembered me, to be honest," I said, sitting down at an empty stool. Cass was behind me, but having a little trouble getting the hang of the rotating floor. Joey set his ss down and shrugged.


    "It''s not every day I get to make somebody some Wake-Up-Juice. So, what brings you back to my humble revolving watering hole?" At that precise moment, Cass appeared next to me; I couldn''t be sure, but the sound and her sudden appearance made me think that she jumped off the rotating tform and directly onto the bar.


    "Shots!" Cass proimed enthusiastically. Joey raised what was left of an eyebrow and turned to me. I just shrugged.


    "Cass wants to go on a bar crawl all around the Strip, so I suggested we start here, say hi to my favorite bartender." Joey looked back and forth between the two of us and started chuckling, tapping two gloved fingers against his temple.


    "Ahh-heh... It''s one of <em>those</em> nights, eh?" He smiled wide, showing a mouth full of yellow, rotten teeth once again. "Alright..." The ghoul ducked down behind the bar, and emerged with two tall shot sses, a bottle of schnapps, a bottle of cream liqueur (how the hell did he find a bottle of Bailey''s?), and a small bottle of grenadine.


    Next thing I knew, Cass and I both had a shot ss in front of us. I brought my eyes down to the level of the shot to get a close look at it: Joey had poured the schnapps in first, and when he poured in the cream liqueur, it sort of... folded in on itself. The dash of grenadine almost looked a bit like blood floating in the mix, making the whole shot look like...


    "It''s called The Brain." Joey said, pleased with himself. "You two wanna get fucked up in a hurry, well... this is a good ce to start."


    "I''m not sure fucked up in a hurry is -"


    "Sounds great!" Cass cut me off. She picked up her ss, and held it up next to me. "Let''s get this shit rollin''." Well, now or never. The two of us toasted our shot sses together, I silently hoped it would be more ptable than Joey''s Wake-Up-Juice, and knocked it back. I set down my shot ss, but Cass turned hers upside down when she set it on the bar.


    My first thought: <em>Oh, wow. That is actually surprisingly smooth on the way down. Maybe I should have another...</em>


    My second thought: <em>Mighty fucknuggets! My lungs are trying to escape out my ears!</em>


    "Hey, that ain''t bad!" I registered on some basic level that Cass was speaking next to me, but she soundedpletely unaffected. "What else ya got?" The aftertaste of the shot subsided just as quickly as it arrived, and once again I could see straight... and that''s about the time I realized I was sitting on the barstool backwards.


    "I''ll see what I can rustle up for ya," I heard the ghoul bartender say. By the time I swung around to look, he was already gone.


    "This is gonna set the tone for the night, isn''t it?" I asked Cass. She just smiled and nodded at me.


    "I sure''s fuck hope so!"


    "It looks like you two are celebrating." I heard a voice say through clenched teeth from next to me. I looked to my left and saw two men sitting at the bar next to us. The closest to me - the man who spoke - was quite tall and looked very gaunt. On his head was a white bucket hat with a bright green interior. On his nose were a pair of green-tinted, gold rimmed aviator sunsses. Clenched between his teeth was a stic cigarette holder and half an unlit cigarette. There was a leather strap with several metal studs wrapped around his right wrist, and a wristwatch on the left. The other man sitting next to him was rather short, extremely fat, and dark skinned with a massive matted mess of ck hair,plete with enormous sideburns and giant porn ''stache. He was also wearing sunsses, smoking a cigarette, and I saw a small bandage on his neck underneath his jaw line. There was a circr medallion hanging from a silver chain around his neck. Both of them were wearing brightly colored aloha shirts with outrageous and ridiculous patterns. In front of them were easily two dozen empty shot sses, three empty pint sses, and maybe six or seven lowball sses - only two of which were still full.


    "I''m sorry?" I asked. Cass leaned on me across the bar to speak to them - I realized with a wry sense of amusement that she already had another shot in her hand.


    "Fuckin'' right we are! Night on th'' town, jus'' th'' two''ve us gettin'' wasted!" She patted me on the back and knocked back the next shot, upending it on the bar. The man in aviators raised his ss in our direction.


    "Well, good luck to you with that. Take it from me, there''s nothing like a job well done. Except the quiet enveloping darkness at the bottom of a bottle of Jim Beam after a job done any way at all." He took a swig of his drink, and continued. "We''re not here celebrating, though. My attorney and I are here on a ssic affirmation of everything right and true and decent in the national character. A gross, physical salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country. A search, you might say, for the American Dream - but only for those with true grit! And we are chock full of that, man!" The ck haired man raised his ss slightly, but barely lifted his head; he said nothing except for a loud belch, and promptly slumped down over his drink.


    "I like this guy," Cass said, still hanging off me. The man in the green sunsses and bucket hat justughed.


    "You shouldn''t. I''m a doctor of journalism, man. Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It''s a cheap catch-all for fuckoffs and misfits - a false doorway to the backside of life, a filthy piss-ridden little hole nailed off by the building inspector, but just deep enough for a wino to curl up from the sidewalk and masturbate like a chimp in a zoo-cage."


    Cass tipped her hat back; she and I just looked at each other, confused. She mouthed the words: "What the fuck?" The dark-haired man finally spoke up, just loud enough for us to hear. It sounded like he was trying to talk to his friend, but the way he was mumbling I couldn''t be sure.


    "I hate to say this -" He hupped loudly. "but this ce is-" He hupped again. "is getting to me. I think I''m-" He hupped a third time. "getting The Fear."


    "Nonsense!" The man in green sunsses pped his friend on the back, who hupped again in response. "We came here to find the American Dream! Now that we''re right in the vortex, you wanna quit? You must realize, man -" He clenched a fist. "We''ve found the Main Nerve! Our asses nted right square in the middle of it!"


    "Well, I''m ready to try somewhere new..." Cass said, still leaning on me. She handed me a shot of whiskey. "... after this drink?" I smiled, and took the ss from her.


    "Sounds good to me," I said. At least whiskey just burned on the way down, and didn''t leave a weird aftertaste.


    "So, let''s get down to brass tacks here," The man in green-tinted aviators spoke up again, and we both turned to face him. "How much for the ape?"


    "Wait, what?" Cass said confused. The man in the sunsses just shook his head, took the cigarette holder out of his mouth and pointed at us.


    "Not you," He moved his hand slightly to his left, and pointed somewhere behind us. "Him."


    The two of us turned around. Sitting on our other side was a dour looking clown with a curly ck moustache in a white jumpsuit and hat, peppered with sequins and swirly designs. Sitting next to the clown was... an orangutan? It was definitely a monkey of some kind. How did it get here? But even stranger than his very presence was the fact that he was wearing a whitebcoat, and had a stethoscope hanging from his neck. The ape pursed his huge lips, and made kissy noises at both of us, before grinning wide with a mouthful of crooked teeth.


    "Check please," both Cass and I said simultaneously.


    The next hour or so was kind of a blur. But the good kind of blur, rather than the blur you know you''ll wake up from in a haze, half-naked, facedown in a sewer. No, this kind of blur was where you knew you''d wake up the next day with a massive hangover, but with your dignity still more or less intact.


    We must have hit at least half a dozen bars after that surreal descent into madness at the CarousHELL of Dreams. Cass led me by the hand the entire way into what seemed like every bar on the Strip. I remember a couple - there was the Stage Left, one of the few dive bars on the Strip that didn''t operate out of a casino. Inside, it was all smoke and colors... and old world movie posters crammed into every avable space on the walls like wallpaper.


    Then there was the Lynd, a bar in the Urbane Hotel and Casino. We didn''t stay there long, since it seemed more high-ss than anything else, what with the people in tuxedos, the cigars, and the hundreds of martini sses everywhere. That''s the kind of ce for people to sip alcohol and pretend to be sophisticated, not pound drinks and act like a hooligan.


    The one I remember the most though, was the Panorama: a bar at the Zephyr "Resort" Hotel and Casino. The bar was on the third or fourth floor, and since the building it was situated inside was a giant cylinder, the whole bar was curved. What''s more, instead of a mirror behind the actual bar itself, there were windows looking out, lined with shelves of booze, letting everyone sitting at the bar and getting shitfaced have an ideal view of the neon ocean that was the Vegas Strip.


    Granted, I didn''t really remember that bar for the atmosphere. I remembered it because of the conversation.


    "Y''know somethin'', Shea?" Cass was holding her drink; we''d finally moved away from shots, and she was just drinking a beer. "I feel... purified."


    "Do y''now?" I slurred, drinking some of my own beer. "With all that booze in ya? I wouldn''t feel purified after all that."


    "Nah, not that, dumbass," Cass backhanded my shoulder softly, almost like hitting me was an afterthought. "M''talkin'' ''bout... earlier. Y''know? Settlin'' ounts, n''all that."


    "Ah," my booze-addled brain finally made the connection. "So... y''really feel good ''bout ev''ry thing we did then?" She nodded, and knocked back more of her drink.


    "Fuckin'' a, I feel good ''bout it. Payback''s a bitch,dies. I hope they''re n''hell right now, blinkin'', tryin'' t''figure out where they fucked up." She downed thest of her beer, and set it down on the bar with a thud. She leaned over, and looked down into the bottom of her empty ss. Her words said one thing, but her bodynguage said somethingpletely different.


    I tried to think: what do normal people do in this kind of situation? This kind of thing was hard enough when I wasn''t trying to force my brain to work through a drunken haze. Eventually, I scooted my bar stool closer to her - it was just a high seat, and wasn''t bolted to the floor - and patted her on the shoulder. Hopefully, she''d take it as aforting gesture.


    "Cass, seriously... you alright?" I said as clearly as I could, taking care not to slur. She just sighed heavily, and continued to stare down into her empty ss.


    "I jus''... I never realized I had all that... anger in me, y''know?" She ran her fingers over the rim of the ss. "Kinda makes me wonder. How much more''m I gonna settle with bullets?" I continued to gently pat her shoulder... and then she brought a hand up, clutching mine and giving it a squeeze. I''m not sure she even realized she was doing it, because she just kept talking. "I mean... don'' get me wrong - I''m d we killed those fucks. No more loose ends, y''know? S''just... part''ve me was hopin'' that I''d feel... something."


    Dawningprehension hit me in the face like a deathw.


    "You were hopin'' killin'' them would make you feel happy, maybe. Give you some kinda satisfaction. But all it''s done s''left you physically an'' emotionally drained." Cass eyes went wide, and she turned in her barstool to look at me. She still hadn''t let go of my hand.


    "Yeah... yeah... I was hopin'' fer some kinda payoff, but instead, I just feel..."


    "Empty," I finished for her. She nodded.


    "Numb." Cass added.


    "Unsatisfied." I said. We still hadn''t broken eye contact. She was looking at me with those big grey eyes of hers with...


    "How''d you..." she started - but for once, I was the one to cut her off.


    "Benny." I said simply. "This is th'' same thing I went through after killin'' him. Once th''st of th'' anger burned off, I was left there in that hallway in th'' Tops not... I mean, th'' fucker shot me in th'' head, an'' killin'' him didn''t... I jus'' felt numb." I pulled my hand away from her shoulder, and turned in my barstool back to my drink. A few secondster, I felt a hand on my shoulder.


    "Has it gotten any better?" I heard Cass say next to me.


    "Kinda..." I took a drink - thest drink. Now, it was my turn to stare at an empty ss. "I haven''t really thought much ''bout what it means. Don''t want to think ''bout it. But there''s been..." Maybe it was the booze, but I decided on something right then and there. "Cass, I''m gonna tell y''somethin'', an'' I want you t''promise not to tell any''ne else." I turned to look at her, and she nodded, urging me to continue. "Ever since killin'' Benny, I''ve been havin'' nightmares. Hell, even had one when I was in aa for two days in Usanagi''s clinic. An''... fuck, this is gonna sound really stupid, but... s''like Benny''s ghost is followin'' me. Hauntin'' me. Doesn''t make sense..."


    Especially when he tries to give me advice, I added in my head. But I thought it was probably best if I didn''t mention that part. Cass moved her hand, draping her arm across my back and patting the opposite shoulder.


    "I guess we all gotta carry memories of th'' people we''ve killed..." she said, rather somberly. I turned to look at her, and she smiled warmly, her cheeks flush with red from all the alcohol. I smiled back at her, and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.


    "Yeah, well... I''ll be here fer you, if you promise t''be here fer me. What else''r friends for, right?" Cass just chuckled, smiled, and shook her head.


    "Right..."


    "So. That''s it then?" I asked. Cass nodded.


    "That''s it... ''cept fer one thing." I raised an eyebrow at her words.


    "What?"


    "Thanks." Cass turned me around in my barstool to face her once again. "There''s not many people''n mypany would do what you did fer me." I tried to wave it off.


    "Hey, don''t worry ab-" Cass put a finger on my mouth to shut me up.


    "I ain''t finished," Cass got off her stool, and stood up in front of me. "When we figured out what Alice ''n Gloria had done, I was so mad. But there was this little part''ve me that said, ''you can''t do to them what they did t''you.'' An'' then, when y''wanted t''find evidence... I thought y''wanted me t''hesistate. To cool down. I was so mad... t''was like my conscience was speakin'' through you. But in th'' end, you backed me, even though I couldn''t see th'' whole picture. Even when th'' odds were against us. Especially when th'' odds were against us. You helped me get what I wanted, an'' then some..."


    One finger moved across my lips until it was met with the rest; she gently ran her fingertips over the scar on my cheek, sliding them across my face until her hand came to rest, clutching at the hair on the back of my head. She leaned in close, staring at me intently with those big, grey eyes - unfocused, as they were. She was smiling at me - in hindsight, I''m pretty sure she was trying to attempt a sultry, sexy smile, but because of all the booze tonight it just ended up looking like a goofy lecherous grin


    "I guess, what I''m tryin'' t''say is... thanks. Words are... I ain''t good with words. An'' words sure''s hell ain''t enough now..." She was leaning very, very close to me. I could feel her hot breath brushing against the whiskers on my face. About a million things were buzzing through my head at that particr moment in time. Warning signs and rm bells on one side of my brain; cheers and encouragement and a desire for her to close the gap as quick as she possibly fuckin'' could on the other. I don''t know if it was that conflict in my head or the booze, but all that ended uping out of my mouth was an ineffectual stammer.


    "Cass, what... I mean..." Cass shook her head and grabbed me by the shirt.


    "Oh, shut up already."


    And then she kissed me.


    My eyes cracked open just enough to register that I was in a bed somewhere.


    It took me a few seconds for my brain to warm up enough to register something else rather unusual.


    My vision was filled with red hair.


    Twitch.


    I breathed in through my nose, getting a strong hit of the aroma lingering in the hair in front of me: whiskey and beer.


    Odd.


    It took me a few more seconds to register something else that was not normal - something warm, something soft, something shaped very much like a naked female body pressed up against me.


    Twitch.


    I closed my eyes, buried my face deeper into the red hair in front of me, and pulled her close.


    My eyes snapped open, and I woke with a start.


    And, immediately, I wished I''d been more cautious waking up. Ow.


    I clutched my throbbing head, and shut my eyes against the blinding, awful, painful light. Slowly, I started to crack my eyes open again to look around at my surroundings.


    Eventually, something became quite clear.


    I was the only one in the room. There were no signs that anyone else had been here at all. I looked down at my arm, and realized that I must have fallen asleep wearing my Pip Boy - and that it, jabbing me in the ribs, had been the cause to prompt me awake.


    I looked at the clock on my Pip Boy - just a little after 7:30 am. I tried to do the math in my head, but everything in my head was just hangover pain. Something about that number didn''t seem right. Maybe I was reading the clock wrong? Maybe I was doing the math wrong.


    Still, I was left with a rather burning question: Did everything fromst night really happen?


    Did anything?

 Chapter 40: Crazy, Crazy, Crazy

    Chapter 40: Crazy, Crazy, Crazy


    <em>Breaking news this hour on Radio New Vegas. Last night, Freeside was rocked by a massive explosion which destroyed the Silver Rush. It''s unclear at this time how or why the Silver Rush exploded. An anonymous eyewitness reported seeing shadowy figures wearing advanced armor and utilizing military tactics entering the building before the explosion, but this is still unconfirmed. It''s unknown if any Freeside locals were injured in the st, and as of now, no one has imed responsibility.</em>


    I needed to clear my head.


    I''d been up for a few hours, trying to get rid of this damn hangover, and piece together what - if anything - happenedst night. It really didn''t help that Cass had made herselfpletely scarce. In fact, the only one I knew for sure was even around was ED-E, and that''s because he was buzzing around in the main hallway of the suite, humming a toneless, synthesized tune.


    That didn''t help the pounding in my skull. Not at all.


    At any rate, something did eventually work it''s way through the fog: an idea. If I wanted to clear my head - I mean, really clear my head - I''d need to do something. Preferably, something that took all day... Should I go through the massive pile of weapons we''d stolen from the Silver Rush, and just take stock of everything we had? That''s something I certainly was going to have to do eventually, and it would probably take all day. Maybe I should turn one of the spare rooms in the suite into an armory? I certainly needed a ce to put the anti-material rifle... and the Sprtel-Wood 9700... and the mountain of ammunition...


    No... staying in the 38 all day wasn''t going to help. What I needed was something that got me out of Vegas for a while. That''s when I remembered Marcus, back in Jacobstown - and how he''d told me about Neil, and Tabitha, and ck Mountain. Maybe now would be a good time to check on that. I <em>did</em> tell him I''d see what I could do, right?


    "Hey, ED-E?" I walked out of my room with a duffle bag slung over my shoulder, and called for the robot who hovered to a halt a few feet from me. "Meet me down by my car. We''re gonna get out of Vegas for a couple hours." ED-E let loose a burst of triumphant sounding marching music, and rushed through themon room and out the window. I hit the button to call the elevator, and as I was waiting, I heard a click to my right: Veronica was walking right towards me.


    A sudden wave of guilt washed over me like a bucket of ice water.


    "Hey, Shea!" She said with a smile and a wave. I returned the gesture, and tried not to look suspicious. Damnit, man! Don''t look suspicious! "Going somewhere?"


    "Yeah, I was gonna... you know, get out of Vegas for a few hours. Clear my head, and just do something."


    "Neat! Want me toe with?" She beamed from beneath her hood.


    Just say ''no,'' Sheason. It''s easy. One syble: ''no!'' That''s all you have to do, and then you''ll have the whole day to yourself, able to think things through and work things out all by yourself just like you used to. Just. Say. No.


    "Sure," I smiled back.


    Damnit!


    The elevator doors slid open, and the two of us entered into the most ufortable silence I''ve ever experienced. At least, it was ufortable for me. And can you me me? Veronica is a girl who could quite easily kill me with her pinky finger if she so chose, and I''m willing to bet that she''d be the jealous type.


    Okay, calm down. You''re not even certain anything happened with Cassst night. You just need to stay calm, and not panic. Don''t panic. Don''t panic. Do. Not. Panic.


    "So," Veronica leaned up against the back wall of the elevator. "How''d things gost night?"


    TOO LATE ALREADY PANICKING.


    "What do you mean, st night?''" I asked, trying my best to hide the fact that inside, I was sweating bullets.


    "That n you and Cass spent yesterday working on. I mean, youmandeered the kitchen all day!" She said simply. I breathed a sigh of relief. Silently, of course.


    "Oh, right. Yeah, I thought everything went pretty smooth. Probably could''ve used more C4 when we blew up the Silver Rush, though."


    "Wait, what?" She asked, suddenly. "You guys did what?"


    "Blew it up, yeah. Wasn''t that big of a fireball, if I''m honest. Don''t worry, it''s not like we killed anyone who wasn''t already dead. But we needed a way to get rid of the ce, and let people know that the Silver Rush is closed - permanently."


    "That..." she paused, as if trying to process the information. "That''s a statement." I shrugged.


    "Yeah, I suppose that was the idea."


    "So, where are we going again?" Veronica asked as the elevator doors opened.


    "I was thinking of heading to ck Mountain, check out things for Marcus. Remember him?"


    "Oh yeah, the super mutant at Jacobstown, right?" I nodded. "Is that why you have the duffel bag full of weapons and armor?" I looked over my shoulder, and hiked up the strap further.


    "No more than being prepared, you know?"


    ck Mountain loomed ahead of us like a giant obelisk rising out of the ground, only wider. It''s funny, when I first heard the name ''ck Mountain,'' I assumed that it was just somebody being poetical, trying to give it a menacing name, and that the mountain would really be grey, or brown, or even green like Mount Charleston. But the closer we got, the more I realized the rocks that made up the mountain were actually... ck.


    "So... is that it?" Veronica asked, looking up.


    "I guess so," I said, driving us through a series of broken and dpidated pre-war neighborhoods. For the most part, the drive was uneventful. asionally, ED-E would peel away from us to shoot at a stray radscorpion, or a giant mutated ant, but other than that, we didn''t see anything living. I was relieved - if the map on my Pip-Boy was anything to go by, we were getting perilously close to Sloan and Quarry Junction... and as far as I knew, that particr patch of nowhere was still overrun with deathws.


    "I think this is as far as we go," I said, slowing the car to a stop. Veronica had been snoozing in the passenger seat for thest ten minutes, and perked her head up when I spoke.


    "Really? Why?" she asked, adjusting in her seat. I pointed out in front of me, and turned off the car.


    "Because that''s a roadblock if I ever saw one."


    Stretched from one end of the road to the other was a whole mess of rusted scrap metal, blocks of concrete, a couple of stacked tires, and nearly rotten wood. I couldn''t really go around, because on the left side of the road was a small cliff that my car couldn''t ever hope to get up, and on the right was a sheer drop that would just make my Corvega flip over.


    Of course, I was a bit wrong when I said it was a roadblock; maybe that was one of its purposes, but after getting out of the car and walking towards it to get a better look, I could see that it was also a shack that someone had built. There wasn''t much of a roof, but under the corrugated metal acting as a roof was arge mattress, a series ofrge chairs, a salvaged and rusted metal table, some metal shelves, and a small radio sitting on the table, It wasn''t making any noise, but the light on the dial indicated it was on.


    "Home sweet home, for somebody," Veronica said, sidling up next to me. I nodded, and just as I was about to respond, I heard the sound of disced rocks and immediately tensed up.


    "This is a dangerous ce, humans - especially for your kind." a booming, authoritative voice sounded to my left. I looked around, trying to find the source of the sound, and was greeted with the image of a super mutant. He was bare-chested, unlike most of the super muants living in Jacobstown who wore armor. On the top of his forehead was a pair of goggles, and like almost every other mutant I''d seen, had a leather face harness keeping the sides of his mouth up. Strapped to his back was a club that looked like it had been fashioned out of a chunk of concrete and steel rebar. What stood out most of all was the sheer number of scars this mutant sported - the most distinctive of which were three veryrge, and very deep, scars just above his right eye.


    "Uh... hello?" Veronica said with a feeble wave. I didn''t say anything because this mutant - whoever he was - caught me a bit off guard. He dropped off the small cliff with a thud and slowly walked toward me. He hadn''t drawn the club, and he was still talking to me, so that was a good sign.


    "I suggest you both turn back. There''s nothing good waiting for either of you further on." Suddenly, my mind made the connection: this mutant, the roadblock on the way up to ck Mountain... I felt like a fool for not realizing it earlier.


    "Are you Neil?" I asked. The mutant took a step back and regarded at me very carefully from beneath his heavy brows. It didn''t look like he was going to answer, so I continued. "My name is Sheason Fisher. Marcus up at Jacobstown sent me here to look for a Neil."


    "You found him," Neil said, crossing his arms but never taking his eyes off me. I looked up at the mountain peak. From where I was standing, I could see threerge satellite dishes mounted at the top of the mountain. And these lookedrge enough to send signals into space.


    "So what makes this a dangerous ce?" Neil scoffed, and leaned over one of the rusted metal sheets, and picked up the radio, turning the dial until the radio made noise.


    "And you''re the leader of all the Nightkin, correct?" A scratchy voice sounded over the radio.


    "Yes!" Another, louder, more shouty voice came over the radio; this sounded more like a super mutant yelling into a microphone. "As the highest ranking Nightkin alive, my voice speaks for all Nightkin everywhere, EVER! My position of supreme authority MUST NEVER BE QUESTIONED!"


    "Onest thing," the first voice spoke up again. "Is there any truth to the rumor that all Nightkin are slightly crazy from their overuse of psychologically damaging pre-war technology?"


    "None at all, Rhonda!" The super mutant yelled.


    "There you have it, Utobitha!" The first voice sounded once again, and that''s when I realized: both voices wereing from the same person. "Nightkin, your benevolent overlords, who are most certainly... NOT crazy! We''ll be back after this!" Neil turned the dial, and set the radio down again.


    "The voice on the radio belongs to Tabitha, the ''suprememander'' of ck Mountain - or, as she calls it, the ''State of Utobitha''." Neil said to us. "She took control of this ce almost two years ago. The super mutants here do whatever she says - and she says humans are to be killed on sight. So forgive me if I think it''s a bit odd Marcus would send humans here."


    "I helped him out with a couple of things at Jacobstown," I said with a shrug "so he sent me to check on you. Apparently, he hasn''t gotten any reports in a while, and he didn''t want to risk any more mutantsing down here. Of course, that''s just what he''s told me." I looked around at the roadblock-shack. "So, why are you here instead of at Jacobstown? He just said you were down here, but didn''t exactly say why."


    "I have my reasons for staying away from Jacobstown for a while - reason''s we won''t be discussing," He ran his tongue along his teeth and spat off to the side. "I guess you could say I came here as a spy. But with no signs of Tabitha''s weakening, and none of the second-gens ready to revolt or toe to Jacobstown, there wasn''t much I could do. Down here, on the other hand, I''ve saved dozens of mutants from heading up the mountain. It''s not much. But it''s something."


    "Sounds like you''ve had enough of Tabitha," I said, regarding the mutant carefully. I don''t know why, but for some reason, I decided that I needed a... ''workout.'' And this would be as good a cause as any. Nothing like violence to clear your head... or perhaps I was just being stupid. Whatever the reasons, I just kept talking. "Maybe if you had some help getting rid of her, things around here might get better." For a minute or so, he didn''t say or do anything except just stare at me. But eventually, he started slowly nodding.


    "Help would improve the odds. Help might just make the difference..." Neil finally uncrossed his arms. "All right. If Marcus trusts you, and if you''re good enough at what you do, we can talk further at the peak." As if to illustrate, he pointed up towards the peak of the mountain. "The road from here is a series of switchbacks up the mountain. There are at least three blockades, plus patrols. Just before the peak is a kind of shanty vige. More second-gens there. And then there''s Tabitha''spound - heavily guarded by her Nightkin. I''ll have a n by the time I see you. If I see you." He started to leave, leaping up the small cliff with an agility you wouldn''t expect from someone that size, and turned back to face me. "Good luck. It''s going to be a lot harder for you to get up there than it will be for me." He started to leave, but then stopped himself. "Oh, and before I forget - bring Rad-X. You squishy humans will need it."


    And with that, he ran off at what must''ve been 40 miles an hour. I stood there, smiling... and then I realized what I''d just agreed to. My smile faded, and I turned back to Veronica - who was, surprisingly, still smiling. ED-E floated down from his vantage point in the sky above us, beeping cheerfully.


    "So, killing a super mutant tyrant and her army for Marcus? Sounds like a fun way to spend an afternoon! Guess it''s a good thing I brought Oh, Baby with me," Veronica pulled out the super sledge I''dst seen in the cave at the peak of Mount Charleston, and rested it on her shoulder. Well, that was good. At least I wouldn''t have to convince her to help me on this likely suicidal fools errand. There was something else that was bothering me, though.


    "Where did you pull that from?" I asked, pointing at it. That''s when I noticed that she must have cleaned it since I saw itst, as it didn''t look quite as rusted. "Have you been carrying that thing the whole time?"


    "Mmhmm," she nodded quickly, beaming. "So, what''ve you brought then?" I held up a finger, walked back to my car, and reached into the duffel bag full of weapons and armor resting in the backseat.


    "Just a few things..." I said, pulling out the anti-materiel rifle.


    After surprisingly few preparations, Veronica and I carefully started making our way up the mountain pass. There wasn''t much that she grabbed - apart from a bottle of Rad-X - but me... well...


    I was almost as well armored as I had beenst night during the Silver Rush assault, but nowI was carrying a lot more firepower. On the one hand, I was wearing the riot armor, but I wasn''t wearing the helmet. Despite all the benefits, like a heads-up disy, a friend/foe identifier, gas mask and respirator and all that, it was ufortable as hell, and restricted my field of vision massively. On the other hand, I had the anti-materiel rifle strapped to my back, I was carrying a marksman carbine in my hands, Roscoe was on my hip, That Gun was strapped into a new custom holster on the back of my belt, slung under my left arm was a 12.7mm smg, and fastened wherever I had space was as much spare ammo and as many grenades as I could carry. No tear gas this time, though. That didn''t seem smart without a gas mask - and who knows if tear gas even affected super mutants, anyway?


    "Are you really going to need all that?" Veronica asked, shaking her head at the massive collection of weapons and ammo I was carrying. I shrugged, and the two of us made our way up the road towards the peak, with ED-E flying above us.


    "Call me paranoid, but I just have this nasty feeling that halfway up this mountain, I''m going to regret not bringing <em>more</em>." Veronica justughed


    "Yeah... you and I have differing opinions on that. That giant rifle you have on your back? That can fire 8 shots. This, on the other hand," She held up her super sledge. "This will never run out of ammo."


    "We''ll see. Now c''mon, get military - I think I see some movement up ahead."


    We''d just rounded the first hairpin corner, and roughly 300 yards ahead of us was the first blockade. Like Neil''s shack down the road, it was made out of scrap metal, but this time the super mutants surrounding it weren''t being subtle about their presence. I peered through the scope on the carbine, and tried to see how many there were - about three, all standing around close to each other, like they were talking.


    "Alright, I see a several super mutants at the blockade up ahead. I don''t think they''ve spotted us. Do you want to try and sneak around them, or do you think we should just throw caution to the wind and go loud?" I took my eye away from the carbine''s scope to look around to my right - where I thought Veronica was - and was rather surprised to discover that she wasn''t there anymore. "Veronica?"


    Veronica had apparently rushed off down the road, with ED-E flying right behind, because by the time I saw her, she was already breaking through the roadblock. And when I say breaking through, that wasn''t hyperbole: she''d already smashed a massive hole in the metal wall, and she was busy destroying the face of the closest super mutant with her enormous hammer. ED-E, meanwhile, was buzzing around overhead and shooting the mutants with hisser.


    "It''s gonna be one of those days then, is it?" I sighed, took aim down the rifle scope, and fired.


    Despite the initial... let''s say, problems we had withmunication, Veronica, ED-E and I made a surprisingly good team. At least, once I''d caught up with her after we''d annihted the first roadblock. I would pick the mutants off from a distance with armor piercing ammunition (taking several shots to bring one down), she''d cause havoc and utter chaos by getting up close and personal, and ED-E would outnk them from apletely unexpected direction and start disintegrating mutants left and right.


    The only thing that really worried me was that all the mutants we were cutting through had green skin. Tabitha was a Nightkin, which meant that there should''ve been some Nightkin under hermand patrolling the roads, like Neil had warned us about. We weren''t exactly being subtle on the way up, so I can only assume that if there were cloaked Nightkin patrolling the roads, they would''ve attacked us by now. And since they hadn''t... where were they?


    "So, what''s your count up to?" Veronica asked shortly after we finished off the third roadblock. I tried to guess what she was talking about.


    "Uh..." I had to think for a minute. "Well, the SMG is dry, I still have 8 rounds for the anti-materiel rifle, two magazines worth of armor piercing rounds for the carbine..."


    "No, not that," she waved me off. "Your figures, man, what are you numbers?"


    "Say what? You''re gonna have to exin that."


    "Your kill count," she said, casual as you please. "I''m just wondering if you''ve been keeping score."


    "... nnno. I haven''t." I deadpanned. She shrugged.


    "Shame. I was hoping we could have a bit of a friendlypetition. I''m up to eight kills so far today."


    Damn. I was only at six.


    ED-E beeped, which sounded a little like an electronicugh. Our small talk was cut short when I heard something elseing from my wrist that was almost lost in ED-E''sugh: a soft click-clicking sound. I looked at my Pip-Boy, and realized that the Geiger counter was ticking, ever so softly.


    "Veronica, I think it''s time to break out the Rad-X." I said, my eyes never leaving the slowly bobbing needle. Veronica nodded her head, a surprisingly neutral expression on her face, and pulled out one of the orange bottles from a fold in her brown cloak. She popped one of the pills in her mouth, and tossed me the orange bottle. It might not look professional, given that the originalbel on the medicine bottle had been worn away by time long ago, and the only indication of what was inside was a crude "RAD-X" written on thebel in permanent marker, but the orange capsules inside should be enough to keep our internal organs from melting if the radiation got really bad.


    If only I''d brought some Rad-X with me to the Fort. Ah well. Live and learn, right?


    The three of us made our way up the road, and it soon became obvious what was the source of the radiation: the road up the mountain came to an abrupt halt at the lip of a huge, ckened crater. The Geiger counter spiked the closer we got. I crept forward, hoping the Rad-X was doing its job, and peered inside the crater. What greeted my eyes gave me a shock.


    The inner edge of the crater was lined with crude buildings. There were shacks built out of scrap metal, wires that must have been power lines connecting buildings to one another, and other signs of habitation. On the far end of the crater, the buildings looked like they were growing out of the ground itself, and beyond that, the road continued up the mountain. There was a little motion deeper into the crater, indicating the presence of more super mutants.


    "This must be the shanty town Neil mentioned." Veronica whispered next to me. I nodded, and for some reason, looking at this massive crater reminded me of something Mr. House had said at our first meeting<em>.</em>


    <em>"On the day of the Great War, 77 atomic warheads targeted Las Vegas...Theworked mainframes in the Lucky 38 were able to intercept and force-transmit disarm codes to 59 warheads, neutralizing them before impact. Theser cannons mounted on the roof of this very hotel destroyed another 9 warheads. The rest got through, though none hit the city itself..."</em>


    "I think this must''ve been where one of the nukes targeting Vegas hit..." I whispered to Veronica. She nodded, and I continued. "We better back off, and sneak around the outside. Who knows what the radiation is like in the crater itself."


    The Geiger counter on my Pip Boy kept clicking as we cautiously made our way around the outside of the crater, and I couldn''t help but worry. Rad-X is able to keep your organs from absorbing too much radiation, but it doesn''t make youpletely immune. I just knew that when I got back to the 38, I''d have to take some RadAway to flush my system of whatever radiation I''d soaked up, and Veronica probably would too.


    I hated taking RadAway. Granted, the alternative of having your organs catch fire wasn''t good, but constantly pissing orange for a straight two hours after taking it wasn''t really appealing, either.


    There was arge scrap metal dome at the point where there crater shanty-town ended and the road continued further up the mountain. Thankfully, we didn''t run into super mutants... until we almost passed the domed building.


    "A pleasant surprise to see you made it," I heard from behind us. I leveled my carbine instinctively at the noise, but lowered it as Neil stepped out of the shadows and towards us.


    "Sneaky fuck, aren''t ya?" I said with a smirk. Neil inclined his head slightly.


    "I <em>am</em> a spy," He said simply. "I''m ready to get started if you are."


    "Sure, let''s do it. What''s the n?" I asked. Neil pointed up the road, toward the buildings far off in the distance at the peak of the mountain.


    "The gate to Tabitha''spound is guarded by several Nightkin, all of them using stealth boys. I''m going to draw them away from the gate by telling them I spotted an intruder in the vige. That''s when you slip in." My brain came to a halt, attempting to process this information. And my left eye twitched when I realized what his ''big n'' consisted of.


    "Hang on a second, <strong>THAT''S</strong> your fuckin'' n? I <em>am</em> an intruder in the vige!" I almost yelled, very nearly forgetting the shanty town in the crater that was still rtively close by. Neil just nodded.


    "Exactly. So try to stay out of sight, because they''ll being this way." And with that, Neil ran off... yet again. I looked to Veronica and to ED-E, who looked back at me, and even the floating robot - who did not actually have a face - looked astonished at how stupid that n was.


    "I can''t really do subtle," Veronica said, hefting up her massive super sledge. "I hope you know that."


    "Yeah, I know. You know what, fuck it." I pulled the anti-materiel rifle from my back, and chambered one of the .50 BMG rounds. "I''ll just kill them as theye down."


    "Hang on, didn''t Neil just say that they''d be using Stealth Boys?" Veronica asked. "So, how are we going to see them if they''re invisible?"


    "I didn''t say <em>we''d</em> kill them." I blinked, and the world became awash with blue and ck, with ED-E and Veronica turning into orange and red blotches of heat in front of me. I pointed at my eyes. "I said I would kill them. Trust me." With my eyes seeing the world in infrared, I should be able to see the Nightkin even with their stealth fields activated.


    I knelt down, hefted the massive rifle up, and peered through the scope. Sure enough, about 500 yards distant, the first heat signatures starteding down the road. I cycled my eyes back and forth between thermal and normal, to make sure what I was aiming at - or, rather, what I wasn''t aiming at.


    I exhaled, took aim at the head of the closest Nightkin, slipped into V.A.T.S., and squeezed the trigger.


    There was a massive explosion out of the muzzle brake on the end of the barrel, and a cloud of dust got sted in my face. I''d almost forgotten how much kick this thing had; thest time I used it, it was to kill a Legion soldier at point nk range, and I didn''t have to bring it to bear on another target that time. I braced myself better, chambered another round, and looked down the scope again. The first Nightkin''s head didn''t exist anymore, despite the body still standing upright... well... more swaying headless in the breeze, really.


    In any event, that''s good. At least now I know the anti-materiel rifle lives up to it''s name. Seven rounds left, and if my thermal vision V.A.T.S. was urate, there were four more Nightkin on their way down the road towards us.


    I liked those odds.


    Boom. Another headshot. Boom. A round caught one of the Nightkin in the middle of his chest, knocking him backwards in a heap. Boom. A third headshot. Thest Nightkin was still rushing towards us, heedless of his allies that had fallen - he was maybe less than 200 yards away now. I took aim at his chest... and lowered the barrel ever so slightly. I squeezed the trigger, and the next thing I knew the mutant was doubled over, clutching at his crotch. I chambered another round, and fired again. The back of his head, and a good chunk of his upper back was ripped apart in an explosion of gore.


    "I think that''s all of them. For now, at least." I switched my eyes back to normal and smirked at Veronica, who was just staring ck-jawed out at the road full of Nightkin corpses that I''m sure just appeared from nowhere. "And if I''m not mistaken, V, I believe that makes 11. I guess gun beats fist."


    It took Veronica a minute to register what I''d said.


    "Hang on a minute! You said you weren''t counting, you cheating fuck!" Veronica gave me a gentle sock on the shoulder - though, when I say gentle, I mean gentle for Veronica. Why do all the women I know like to punch me so hard?


    "Well, look on the bright side," I pointed up at ED-E floating between us. "The smugbot over here is doing better than both of us. Last I checked, his kill count is up to 12. Soser beats gun?" Veronica turned to ED-E, who beeped in the affirmative. Veronica narrowed her eyes and pointed an angry finger at the eyebot.


    "I''m on to you. Those puppy dog eyes won''t work on me."


    "C''mon, we gotta keep moving." I shouldered the anti-materiel rifle and picked up the carbine again. Veronica and I started to run up the road towards thepound with the satellite dishes, ED-E flying ahead of us at a brisk pace. Before I knew it, we were inside the confines of the fence, near one of the nearby radio towers.


    Suddenly, I heard a shrill beeping: a new contact had just registered within the Pip Boy''s radar range. I looked around, trying to figure out where it wasing from, and looked up and to my right, towards the radio tower, just in time. There was a green skinned super mutant standing on a metal tform about halfway up the tower, with a missileuncher hefted on his shoulder. In the half second I had to really look, I could tell it was aimed directly at us.


    "Contact right! Scatter!" I yelled, and bolted. I ran for the nearest cover I could see: one of the nearby concrete buildings. As I ran, I switched the carbine to full auto, and shot it in the general direction of the mutant. I wasn''t even really looking where I was shooting; I just wanted toy down some suppressing fire, so hopefully his aim would be thrown off, or he wouldn''t bother to fire at all.


    There was a fiery whooshing sound from behind me, and I kept running, hoping I could brace for the inevitable. I didn''t. Not really. I felt the ground buckle behind me before I heard anything, and a shockwave knocked me off bnce. A wave of heat washed over me, along with a shower of dirt and rocks. The world went sideways and all I could hear out of my ears was a loud ringing drowning out everything else.


    I couldn''t really see because I was still holding my eyes shut, but I felt myself go head over heels, and I lost grip on the carbine. I did my best to tuck and roll, grabbing the barrel of the anti-material rifle off my back as I went. I opened my eyes when I felt myself go upright... sort of. I was on one hand and my knees. A cloud of dust and smoke surrounded me, and I looked up, and saw - just barely - the radio tower with the missileuncher mutant. He was still in the process of reloading it.


    Time seemed to slow down. I slid the anti-materiel rifle forward and dropped prone. The super mutant dropped the missile into the tube. I took aim through the scope. The missileuncher was locked in ce. I prayed that V.A.T.S. was still with me. Theuncher was lifted up, the mutant aiming at me...


    A shock went up my arm, and the mutant doubled over, a burst of blood erupting from the middle of his chest. The mutant, and the missileuncher he was carrying, copsed in a heap on the radio tower''s tform. I breathed a sigh of relief and copsed on the ground. The only thing in my world was that all consuming ringing in my ears.


    Eventually though, I picked myself up and looked around. Veronica was making her way towards me - she must have run in the opposite direction - and ED-E was buzzing up towards the super mutant''s corpse. The dust and smoke was starting to clear, and the ringing in my ears was starting to fade, but still there. I shook my head, trying to get my ears back to normal.


    Veronica stopped in front of me, and I saw her mouth move, but I still didn''t hear any sound except ringing.


    "WHAT?" I asked, shaking my head again.


    "... I said, that was awesome! Are you deaf?" Veronica''s voice eventually faded back.


    "Not anymore, I don''t think," At least, not much, I said to myself; I could still hear the ringing in my ears, but it was faint enough now I could at least hear other sounds. I shook my head onest time, and hefted up the anti-materiel rifle, ejecting the magazine. Damn. Just like I thought - only one shot left. I shouldered the massive weapon, and looked around for wherever the carbine had flown. When I found it, I headed straight for the door of the nearby concrete building.


    "Alright, you ready?" I asked Veronica and ED-E behind me. She gave me a slight nod, and the eyebot beeped in agreement. "Okay. Let''s see what''s behind door number one." I tightened my hold on the rifle''s grip, ready to fire, and flung open the door, fully expecting more mutants inside.


    "What the hell?" Veronica asked as she got a look at the interior of the room. My own thoughts mirrored her sentiments rather well. The inside of the room was thergest collection of junk and clutter I''d ever seen; nearly every avable inch of space was taken up by rows of shelves, and various bits of detritus and clutter jam-packed as tight as possible. As the three of us entered, closing the door behind us, I started taking stock of everything on those close, cluttered shelves around us. Bicycle parts, scrap electronics, rusted fire extinguishers, sports equipment, garden gnomes, mannequins, traffic cones... and arge training dummy in the center of the room with a note attached to it.


    Veronica went off to one side, and I decided to examine the piece of paper. It read:


    <em>To Who It May Concern (YOU!)</em>


    <em>We got some pretty good stuff from thest raid, and unlikest time, I don''t want any incidents. The only logical conclusion was to hide everything throughout this room. If you can read this, you have my permission to use any items you can find.</em>


    <em>Stuff I hid:</em>


    <em>-1 Missileuncher</em>


    <em>-3 Missiles</em>


    <em>-3 Bricks of C4</em>


    <em>-5 Frag Grenades</em>


    <em>-1 Super Stimpack</em>


    <em>-Various Ammo</em>


    <em>Your Benevolent Supreme Overlord,</em>


    <em>Tabitha</em>


    "Hey Sheason!" Veronica''s voice snapped me away from the note. "You might want toe and take a look at this."


    "What is it?" I rounded a corner, past another set of shelves, to where Veronica was standing. She pointed at arge collection of greenish-grey metal sitting on a workbench. It took me a minute to realize what it was: it was a shutdown Mr. Handy, a type of robot. When one of those was activated, it was a floating metal ball, simr to ED-E, but with three mechanical eyes on metal stalks on top, and three triple-jointed mechanical limbs underneath. It was interesting, sure, but...


    "I don''t get it," I said with a shrug. "What''s so important about a Mr. Handy?"


    "It''s not the robot," Veronica shook her head, and pointed at a very specific part of the robot''s chassis. "It''s the name." I leaned in for a closer look. The namete on the surface was scratched and mostly faded, but I was still able to make out a single faint word: "Rhonda."


    "Okay, yeah... so what?" I didn''t really understand what she was trying to get at. Veronica rolled her eyes in exasperation.


    "Don''t you remember the radio? The two names Tabitha was using? The other one was Rhonda. I think this robot - named Rhonda - might be important somehow." She turned the robot over, opening a small panel in the side. "I''ve looked it over, and I can tell that someone obviously repaired this robot after it suffered some kind of catastrophic damage. If I remember right, Mr. Handy and Mr. Gutsy robots set their AI state to hibernate, as a self defense mechanism if they''re heavily damaged. I''ll bet that whoever repaired this didn''t know about that, and that all it takes to turn it on..." I heard a soft click, and Veronica shut the panel. "... is to flip the right switch."


    The machine started humming, softly at first, and then very loud. The limbs started twitching, and the machine righted itself, the three anti-gravity jets in the bottom of the sphereing alight with blue fire. It started beeping, and the mechanical eyes at the end of each eye-stalk lit up, the lenses inside opening and closing rapidly as it looked at each of us in turn.


    "Hello!" The robot spoke up in a distinctly mechanical, but oddly erudite (and male) sounding voice. "Could you please direct me to Mistress Tabitha?"


    "Uh..." My brain was still trying to catch up, but my mouth got there first. "Sure, I guess so. She should be around here somewhere."


    "Thank you very much!" The robot started hovering around towards the door, past Veronica and ED-E, who got of the robot''s way. "My internal clock says it''s been 6 years, 40 minutes, and 13 seconds since Ist spoke to her. I hope she hasn''t gotten lonely."


    Veronica and I looked at each other - and we followed the robot as quickly as we could. The robot was already outside by the time we caught up, however. And I heard a voice - a super mutant voice.


    "R-Rhonda? Is that you?" The mutant voice bellowed. When Veronica and I exited the building, I saw probably the strangest thing I''d seen... well, in thest hour, at least. The first thing I noticed was that the blue-skinned Nightkin was wearing a bright blonde bouffant wig -plete with a faded pink bow on top of the bangs - and a pair of heart shaped, red-rimmed sses. The mutant was holding one of the robot''s metal arms in both ham-sized hands in what I thought was supposed to be a tender gesture. The robot was staring intently at the mutant with one of its three eyes.


    "It is, Mistress Tabitha!" It eximed. "How I''ve missed you so! This stranger here fixed me up right as rain. Is he a friend of yours?" I realized one of the other eyes was looking right at me.


    "Uh, hey, I wasn''t -" I started to say, pointing at Veronica. The next thing I knew, the mutant was on me, holding me in a vice-like hug. I felt my feet leave the ground and all the air was forced out of my lungs.


    "I... I don''t know how to thank you for brining Rhonda back to me, stranger!" The mutant shouted in my ear, eventually setting me down. "Here, take this. I won''t be needing it anymore." Tabitha grabbed hold of my right wrist, and ced something small and metal in my palm: it was a key. And I was still confused.


    "Uh... what? What are you talking about?" I looked over to Veronica, who looked just as confused. She shrugged.


    "I don''t know!" The mutant shouted, and went back to the robot. "It''s just been so long since I lost Rhonda..." Tabitha held out a massive hand, and Rhonda set the end of one of its mechanical arms in Tabitha''s palm.


    "Mistress Tabitha, we should be heading off." The robot spoke up. "Our journey has been much dyed - but we can catch up if we hurry! Come along now!" Tabitha let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeak for a super mutant, and the two of them started walking down the road, hand-in-mechanical-hand away from thepound.


    "Oh, yes Rhonda! I don''t even remember where we were going, but it''ll be good to travel around with you again!" That was thest thing I heard before the two of them disappeared down the hill before the crater. Veronica, ED-E and I were left standing there after they left, and an eerie silence hung in the air.


    "When the fuck did my life get so weird?"


    "Good work, human," Neil said when he finally found us... well, when he found ED-E and myself, at least. "I didn''t think you''d get Tabitha to leave without killing her, like the zealots you killed on the way up. And with Tabitha gone, I''ll be able to convince the rest of the mutants living in the vige to head to Jacobstown. Maybe now this ce will rest in peace." Neil looked around, over my head. "Where is your confederate? The woman in the hooded cloak?"


    "Veronica? She''s poking around the storage room, scrounging around for anything that might be useful," I said with a smile and a shrug. "So, with Tabitha gone, what do you think will happen to this ce?"


    "Who knows?" Neil said simply. "It might stay abandoned, get used as a base for raiders, or even be another colony for mutants. The future is not written, human. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves, and it is foolish to squint at what cannot be seen."


    "Fair enough," I said, mulling over what he''d said. Sound advice. "So, what are you going to do now? Are you going to head back to Jacobstown?"


    "No," Neil shook his head. "I still have a job to do here. Some mutants may have heard Tabitha''s broadcasts and are headed here even as we speak. I''ll remain and direct any who show up toward Jacobstown, where they''ll be much better off."


    "Well hell, d I could help. Before we part ways though, I wanted to ask you something." I stuck a hand in my pocket and pulled out the key Tabitha handed to me. "Do you know what this is?" Neil bent over, and examined the key carefully.


    "It looks like the key to Raul''s cell, in the radio studio."


    "Raul? Who''s Raul?" I asked. Neil straightened out to his full height, and let out a guttural, grim chuckle.


    "There''s a sad story about that. When Marcus left to found Jacobstown, he smashed the radio here, but while we were gone, some ghoul named Raul came along. Tabitha turned him into her personal mechanic. A ve, really. I don''t know if he''s still alive - she kept threatening to execute him over the radio, but if he is, he should be in the building at the far north of thepound." I nodded in understanding.


    "Guess I have onest thing to do before I leave. I''ll see you around then." I held out my hand to Neil. He didn''t shake it.


    "You probably won''t. But thank you for the help, all the same." And with that, he turned and walked away. I shook my head as he walked away.


    "Right, where''s Veronica?" I said to myself, ED-E humming and buzzing nomittally next to me.


    "You called for me?" I heard from behind me. I wheeled around to see Veronica... who, not only had arge bag slung over one shoulder, but had a giant missileuncher hefted on her other. I pointed at the missileuncher.


    "Is that what I think it is?" I asked. Veronica smiled at me and nodded.


    "I thought you''d want a souvenir of the thing that almost killed you. Say hello to Annabelle." She shifted it around on her shoulder, letting me see that there was some red lettering on the side of the barrel, that indeed said "Annabelle." On the front end of the barrel, I saw a painting of a red maple leaf, and next to it five gold stars on a rough red field.


    "I''ll put it in the armory with the rest of the weapons." I said with a smirk. Veronica tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, confused.


    "We have an armory?"


    "Not yet. But we will. Now, c''mon," I started making my way towards the radio building. "We got onest thing to do before we leave."


    Next thing I knew, we were inside the building at the far north end of thepound, beneath one of the massive satellite dishes. The first room was rather spartan - it just had a couple of tables, some chairs, two RobCo terminals, and some jury-rigged radio equipment. The door at the far end of the room had a note pasted on it which said, in roughly scrawled script, "RAULS ROOM! DO NOT ENTER! THIS MEANS YOU!" I tore off the note and tossed it aside, putting the key in the lock to open the door.


    Inside, I saw a ghoul in mechanics overalls, sitting hunched over in a chair over a bowl of soup. When the door opened, he looked up, and almost went back to his soup - before he looked up again, evident on his face, even despite theck of traditional facial features distinctive of all ghouls.


    "Well, it took you long enough," Raul said with a thick Mexican ent. He got up out of the chair and started walking towards me; I noticed that he was the first ghoul I''d ever seen with a mustache. Part of me wanted to ask how his mustache survived ghoulification... but that probably would''ve been inappropriate. "So, can I go now?"


    "It''s okay by me," I said with a smile, getting out of his way. "Enjoy your freedom."


    "Alrighty then," Raul said with a sigh, slowly nodding. "I''ll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes." I wasn''t expecting that. I looked over to Veronica, who was looking at Raul with sad, wide, pitiful puppy dog eyes. I sighed, sensing already where this was going.


    "Actually," I said, stopping the ghoul in his tracks. "Do you want to tag along with us?" At that, Raul smiled at me.


    "Anything''s better than staying here, boss. Let''s go." The ghoul left the building quickly, with ED-E bobbing in the air at his heels, but before Veronica could follow, I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.


    "So, what was that about?" I asked. At first Veronica looked confused, but then her expression shifted to understanding.


    "Well, you know. He''s been locked up here for who knows how long. The least we could do is give him a lift." I began to very slowly shake my head.


    "There was just something in the way he called me ''boss'' that tells me... it''s not gonna end with us just ''giving him a lift.'' At least there''s plenty of spare room in the 38..."I sighed, and walked out of the building. "I just wonder what everyone else will think to a ghoul joining our motley crew of misfits."


    "Aw, c''mon, don''t be like that!" Veronica said following me. "I love meeting new people, they''ve all got stories..."


    "V, can you stop being cheerful for two seconds?" I asked. She shook her head in response.


    "Nothing in the world can stop me from being cheerful." In that instant, my mind shed to the secret in my brain that I was refusing to tell her... and I sincerely hoped that she was right.

 Chapter 41: Conversations

    Chapter 41: Conversations


    <em>Wee back to the Mr. New Vegas show, only on Radio New Vegas. For those just joining us, our top story today has been the dramatic destruction of the Silver Rush. However, a number of RNV correspondents are reporting that the Crimson Caravan Company''s New Vegas branch was attacked by unknown assantsst night as well. It''s currently unknown if the destruction of the Silver Rush and the attack on the Crimson Caravan are rted. The Crimson Caravan refuses to release any details on the attack, but several eyewitnesses who wish to remain anonymous reported at least two dozen injured, and at least one fatality. </em>


    The trip back down the mountain was more or less uneventful. I didn''t see any super mutants - not even Neil -ing down, which gave Veronica, Raul and I plenty of time to get the introductions out of the way.


    "So, Te... uh... Tay... how do you pronounce yourst name again?" I asked. The ghoul let out a grim chuckle and shook his head.


    "Tejada. My name is Raul Alfonso Tejada," he said, a lot slower than the first time. "I''m sure you''ll get it eventually, boss. Just stick with Raul for now."


    "If that''s your name, howe your jumpsuit says Miguel?" Veronica asked. I peered around, trying to get a good look at the nametag on Raul''s jumpsuit. It did, indeed, say Miguel on the front. Raul shrugged.


    "Probably because it used to be Miguel''s."


    "Fair enough," I said, softly chuckling to myself. "So, where are you headed Raul? My car should be able to give you a lift to wherever you want to go."


    "I''m headed wherever you''re going, boss." He said matter-of-factly.


    "Is that so?" I shot Veronica a look that I hoped said ''I told you so.'' "Well, I''m always grateful for more help, I admit. But why''re you interested in tagging along?


    "You saved my life, boss. Who knows how long I''d be locked in that damn cell if you hadn''t shown up? I figure, I should stick around at least ''til I return the favor."


    "That''s a noble sentiment. Don''t really see much of that anymore." Veronica said approvingly.


    "What can I say," Raul shrugged. "I''m not really from around here."


    By this time, we''d finally reached my car, just beyond Neil''s shack. Raul let out a slow whistle, eyeing the car up and down.


    "Nice wheels. This your car, boss?" I nodded, moving towards the trunk so I could start stowing my weapons. He started walking around my car, admiring it. "Damn... an old ''57 Chryslus Corvega four-door. This is one of the third generation models, isn''t it?"


    "Uh..." I put the anti-materiel rifle in the trunk, alongside the rest of the weapons, and closed the lid, trying to think of something to say. I scratched the back of my head and tried not to look sheepish. "I''ll be honest, I don''t know. The guy I bought it from in New Reno just called it a Corvega. I didn''t know there were different models." This was a bit embarrassing - I''d finally run into someone who knew more about my car than I did.


    "Oh sure, boss. I know lots of things about cars from before the bombs. If you ever have questions, you could always use me as a walking encyclopedia." The three of us got in my car, and I started her up. "I''m actually kind of surprised, boss. This car here isn''t in bad shape. Apart from the bullet holes, I mean."


    "There''s a bit of wear and tear around the edges, I admit," I turned the car around, and saw ED-E float past the window. The engine rumbled and we were on our way. "But I like to think I''ve kept it running as well as possible."


    "I can tell. But if you ever think it needs any serious work done, boss, let me know. I know a thing or two about engines." I gave him a nod, and he settled into the backseat. "So, just out of curiosity boss, where <em>are</em> we going?"


    "The Lucky 38," Veronica said, turning around in her seat to talk to the ghoul.


    "I''m... uh... kind of working for Mr. House. Sort of." That elicited a strange look from Veronica. I just shrugged. "Hey, Raul, you know about House, right?"


    "Just how old do you think I am, boss?" Raul said, almost indignantly. I spluttered, but he continued with a cracked smile on his face before I got a chance to apologize. "Because I can pretty much guarantee, I''m older than that."


    "I see what you''ve done there," Veronica smiled back at Raul with a nod. "Clever."


    "Thanks. Let me tell you a story from before the bombs dropped: Everybody knew Robert House. People said he was a genius. A superstar. Founded RobCo at 22, dated Hollywood starlets, the works. They say he saved Las Vegas."


    "That''s what he said when I talked to him, at least," I offered up helpfully.


    "I was in Mexico City when the bombs dropped, and I know it''s impossible, but I swear that I could see House''s defensivesers shooting down the iing missiles, even from there. Everybody assumed House died in the war. And now, you''re here telling me you''re working for a Mr. House?"


    "Well, if he''s a fake, he''s a very convincing one." I said.


    "I still haven''t seen him, if it makes you feel any better," Veronica said. "Personally, I think the whole thing is a load of bullshit and chips."


    "I''ve always had a few theories about who''s <em>actually </em>running Vegas, myself. I mean, maybe the new guy is just a clever raider chief with a knowledge of history? Maybe House left instructions for his robots to carry out in his name? Or maybe it is the real Robert House, and he uploaded his brain pattern into aputer, ruling to this day, a godless, soulless machine-god!" A stiff silence permeated the inside of my car for a few minutes, until Raul finally spoke up again. "Or maybe the whole thing''s a crazy coincidence? Who knows."


    "Is there anything else you know about the House you know for certain wasn''t a phony?" Veronica asked with a smirk. "I mean, it''d be 200 year old gossip, but it''s still gossip, right?"


    "Well... I remember there were some weird stories about him, especially near the end. There was a tell-all in El Periodico des Aburridas by a starlet House dated. She said they never, uh..." Raul shifted in his seat, and suddenly looked a little ufortable. "Don''t make me spell it out, boss."


    "They never did the horizontal mambo? Neverid some pipe? Never went twenty-toes?" I offered up helpfully. I looked at him in the rear view mirror, and he seemed to rx and nodded.


    "You don''t have to be bashful, Raul," Veronica leaned back in her seat. "We''re all adults here."


    "Well, you''re not." I turned to the scribe, smiling at her smugly. She just rolled her eyes.


    "Anyway," Raul spoke up again. "She said all he wanted to do was scan her brain. And... er... well, make her dress up in different outfits." For some reason, I immediately thought of Marilyn and Jane - the two ''female'' Securitron''s in House''s office - and wondered... maybe they weren''t just programs? The thought sent a chill up my spine, though I''m not entirely sure why. Before I could wonder for too much longer, Raul continued. "It was quite the scandal, at least in the Latin-American tabloid journalism market."


    The car was quiet for a few minutes, leaving me some time to digest everything I knew about the House I''d been working for - which, admittedly, wasn''t much - and what Raul had told me. And then, Raul spoke up again.


    "You know what, boss? There was one ce I wanted to go first."


    It was a small shack almost due east of Freeside, close to the hills separating the run-down residential neighborhoods outside the Vegas wall, and Lake Mead. We''d long since stopped seeing other houses around; there were plenty of burned out and copsed frames, but this small shack was the only one still standing. A small fence ran around the perimeter, and two run-down cars sat on thewn; granted, they merely looked run down. I did notice that they both still had tires on them, so who knows? Maybe they were like mine.


    "So, what are we doing here?" I asked Raul when I stopped the car. Raul walked toward the shack, smiling back at us.


    "Bienvenidos a casa de Tejada." He said to us with open arms. He stood there for a minute, looking back and forth between the two of us. "What?"


    "Raul," I tried to figure out how to put this delicately. "I don''t actually know how to speak Spanish. You do know that, right?" He set down his arms and chuckled.


    "S que usted no ha Espaol. Me gusta jodiendo."


    "What?" I turned to Veronica. "Do you know what he said?" Instead of a real response, I just saw her put her face in her hands, and fail to hold backughter. ED-E, on the other hand, just hovered in ce and let out two confused beeps.


    "Don''t worry about it, boss. It''s not important. What is important, is this ce right here. It''s not much, but it''s my home. Just thought I''d pick up a few things before we head to Vegas." He went to therge garage door behind one of the cars, and pulled it up with a series of metal nks, discing about 8 cubic feet of dust and rust in the process. The inside of the garage was pitch ck.


    "Well, it''s a nice ce you got here, I''ll give you that." I said, looking around. I meant it, too. It was pretty big, it was out of the way and hard to find unless you knew where to look... which meant that raiders probably wouldn''t bothering out this far. And aside from some recent disuse, it was obvious Raul kept the house in decent shape most of the time. "You live here all by yourself?"


    "Nobody except Tabitha ever wanted to keep me around, boss," Raul said in the darkness. There was a rumble from inside the garage: an electric generator being warmed up. Slowly, a pair of lights inside the garage flickered on, revealing a strange shape sitting in the middle of the garage, covered in a tarp. At the back end of the garage, Raul was standing by a workbench and a wall full of tools.


    "So, how''d you end up at ck Mountain, anyway?" I asked.


    "Well, boss, when a giant, insane super mutant asks you to stay put, you do what you''re told," He looked up, stared at me for a minute, then shook his head. "Well, maybe <em>you</em> don''t, but I''m just a broke down old man."


    "But how did Tabitha even find you in the first ce?" I stepped into the garage, trying to work out what was under the tarp. "I mean, this ce is miles from anyone or anywhere. This is just the ideal safehouse, so how did she find you?" Raul just chuckled grimly.


    "Ah, it''s stupid, boss. I used to listen to the radio broadcasts, just to pass the time. Well, one day the signal stops, so I figured I''d try to find the transmitter. I''m a pretty good repairman... or I used to be before my eyes started to go." He started looking over his tools, organizing them and brining them together on the workbench. "Anyway, I found ck Mountain and offered my services, but Tabitha decided I was useful enough to keep around. Permanently."


    "Hey, I know you told me that you feel like you owe me," I said. "But you don''t have to follow me if you don''t want to. I mean, if you want to stay here, V and I ain''t gonna stop ya..."


    "Don''t worry about it, boss," Raul waved me off and smiled. "I''m in the mood for somepany for a while. Besides, we''re only here so as I can pick up some things... like my pride and joy here."


    He walked into the center of the garage, took the tarp in one of his rotted hands, and pulled it back... revealing a motorcycle in pristine condition. It looked like an old easy rider, a kind of "chopper" bike, with the huge handlebars, the kind of seat you''d recline in, and the wheel way out in front. Parts of it were painted red, but most of it was chrome and leather, and it looked almost like new (despite a few scuffs here and there). I''m not really a fan of motorcycles, but even I thought it was gorgeous.


    "She''s an old Harley I found outside Santa Fe, ''bout three decades ago. It took me a while to find all the parts, but I eventually got her working again. I''m still d I didn''t drive to ck Mountain on it - who knows what those idiotas de mierda mutantes would''ve done to my baby while Tabitha had me locked up?"


    "What''s this?" Veronica spoke up, startling me; she really did love to sneak up on everyone. She was standing next to the bike, pointing at an odd metal shape on the handlebars. "It looks like the mounting point for some kind of weapon. Like a minigun or something."


    "A minigun on a motorcycle?" Raul chuckled. "Don''t be silly, that would be ridiculous."


    "I gotta tell ya, boss," Raul spoke up after the elevator doors shut. "There were a lot of things I was expecting to do today. Walking into the legendary Lucky 38 wasn''t one of them."


    "Yeah, well I wasn''t expecting a race on the way home," I said, holding back a grin. "How fast does that bike of yours go, anyway?"


    "I''ve seen 105 out of it, once. Had to tweak the engine, though. No way an old-world Harley could ever go that fast. What about your car?"


    "I think the fastest I''ve ever been is 124 miles an hour, but I needed an awful long stretch of unbroken t ground to get it that fast. It was on that one stretch of road, just outside the ss ts of Bonneville. You know the one I mean?"


    "Yeah, I''ve heard of that ce, boss. Ma for speed freaks, or something like that." Raul nodded and rubbed his chin. "I remember when they were called the salt ts. But that was before the bombs. Never been that far north, myself."


    The elevator doors slid open, and Boone was standing in front of me, almost like he was waiting for us. He looked from me, to Veronica, to Raul, then back to me with a raised eyebrow.


    "New arrival?" he said, monotone as ever.


    "So, it''s more than just you and the girl here then, eh boss?" Raul and Veronica walked past me out of the elevator. He held out a hand, and Boone shook it without hesitation. "The name''s Raul. Raul Alfonso Tejada."


    "Boone," he said with a single nod, turning back to me. "Fisher, do you have a minute?"


    "Uh... sure," I gestured a thumb towards Raul. "Are you gonna be -"


    "Don''t worry, Shea," Veronica took Raul by the shoulder. "I''ll help him get settled, you and Boone can go chat."


    The next thing I knew, Boone had led me into his room in the suite. I''d often wondered what he''d been up to when nobody could find him, and after seeing the inside of his room, I had a few suspicions. The inside was no longer furnished like the high-ss, old world suite that it was, and instead looked more like a soldier''s bunk. The bed was made with green sheets so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. There was a dented green footlocker at the base of the bed. Two gs hung on the wall: the most prominent was the two-headed bear g of the New California Republic, and next to it was a ck g, with the silhouette of a man in profile inside a white circle, with the words "POW * MIA" on the top and "YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN" on the bottom. Next to the bed was a hat stand - at least, I assumed it was a hat stand; it was hard to tell with the USMC armor disyed on it.


    "Alright, Boone, you got my attention." I said to him after he closed the door. "What''s up?" At first, he didn''t say anything. He just sort of... crossed his arms, and stared at me behind his sunsses. I heard a sharp intake of breath through his nose.


    "What are you not telling us?" Well, he was direct, if nothing else.


    "What... do you mean?" I tried to stall for time, to give me time to work out what he meant. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what he thought I was hiding from him. I mean, there was what (possibly) happenedst night between Cass and me, but... why would he even <em>care</em> about that?


    "Yesterday - the assault on the Silver Rush. The way you acted during the op, and before, when you were nning it. Checking your corners, using the terrain, incapacitating enemies before engaging... Making sure the fight was already won before a single shot was fired. I''ve only ever seen that kind of behavior from professionals. People who''ve had training. So..." Boone advanced on me, continuing to stare me down. "What are you not telling us?"


    I''ll be honest, I must have stood there like an idiot for I don''t know how long, just trying to process what I was hearing. He was using me of what now?


    "Look, Boone, I''m not... I don''t know what you think, but beforeing to the Mojave, I was just a courier. The most I ever got up to before this was fighting off raiders asionally. I''m not really ''military'' material, and I''m not a professional when ites to... stuff like this." Boone continued to stare me down, apparently unconvinced,


    "So exin where all that came from. Your skill with a gun, your tactical mind, the ease in which you carry your armor -" Boone pointed at my chest, and I looked down... only to realize I was still wearing thebat armor I''d gotten from the Gun Runners. That was... surprising. How long had I been wearing this? "- that doesn''te naturally to people. It has to be taught. People have to be trained."


    "I... I don''t know what to say. I''m telling you the truth - nobody''s ever trained me to do any of this crap. I''ve just... I think about what needs to be done in my head, and I try toe up with the best way to seed without getting killed. I''m just doing what makes sense to me. What makes sense in my head. That''s all."


    Boone studied me for a long while, staring at me from behind those sunsses of his.


    "You do believe me, don''t you?" I asked. He just shook his head.


    "No. But if you don''t want to tell me, that''s your business. I was just curious."


    I needed a drink. So far, this day hadn''t exactly turned out like I''d nned. I''d barely gotten any thinking done, and now it seemed like I was in danger of losing Boone''s trust. That is something that I didn''t want to happen. With everything going on between Cass, Veronica, and Arcade (who were all causing me stress for various reasons), I needed Boone to be the voice of reason. I didn''t know Raul well enough (or at all, really) to be able to rely on him, and ED-E... I couldn''t really understand him.


    I suddenly remembered why I spent most of my time alone beforeing to the Mojave. I didn''t have to y umpire. I didn''t have to deal with bullshit drama. And I didn''t have to exin myself - or answer - to anyone.


    I grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge - momentarily debating in my head if I should grab something stronger - and headed to themon room. Darts. That''s what I needed to clear my head. Beer and darts will give me plenty of time to work things out.


    Of course, things didn''t go to n. Why would they? That would make things <em>easy</em>. Arcade was already there, bent over the pool table, cue in hand and lining up a shot. Hisbcoat was discarded on the back of a chair somewhere, and his sses looked in danger of falling off his nose. He looked up from his shot briefly when I entered the room, and gave me a simple nod.


    "Sheason," was all he said before returning to his shot. There was a crack of pool balls, and three of the striped balls were knocked gracefully into three separate pockets.


    "Hey, Arcade," I walked past him towards the dart board. "I didn''t know you yed pool."


    "I don''t," he said, lining up for another shot. I paused, and shot him a questioning look. "That is, I don''t y against other people. Mostly, I just try to work out the mostplex shots at unconventional angles. Doing the math in my head helps me think." He hit the cue ball; it ricocheted off one of the table edges, hit the 7-ball, which hit the 2-ball, which hit the 9-ball into the pocket right next to where the cue ball started. "If I yed against anyone else, it would be unfair."


    "Is that why I haven''t seen much of you today?" I asked, standing on the strip of duct tape we''d put on the floor for the throw line. "Needed some time to think?"


    "Not really." Arcade grabbed a piece of chalk and twisted it on the tip of the pool cue. As he talked, I started lining up my shots, and throwing the darts at the board. As I was about to throw the third dart, Arcade spoke up again. "Just wanting to stay out of the way of anyone who might find mypany disagreeable."


    My aim was thrown off by thatstment so much that the dart embedded itself in the wall about a foot and a half away from the board. I couldn''t help but sigh. I guess fate can''t even give me five minutes, can it?


    "Arcade," I walked over to the wall to collect the errant projectile as I spoke. "Look, I appreciate that you''re not trying to start any more shit with Veronica. But you''ve got to tell me what your real problem is with the Brotherhood of Steel." He looked up from his pool cue, pushed his sses up his nose, and narrowed his eyes at me


    "I don''t know what you mean. I''ve already told you: they''re murderers and bullies, and I refuse to work with one of their esoteric order." His words were toneless and well rehearsed... which only further proved the point to me. I shook my head.


    "No. There''s some other reason. Something you''re not telling me. I want to know what it is, so that something like what happened the other day won''t happen again. So we can all work together as a team." Arcade was quiet for a long time, holding the cue; eventually, he looked away from me, and began studying the remaining balls on the pool table.


    "Do you know why I joined the Followers of the Apocalypse?" He asked, leaning over the table and lining up a shot. Before I got a chance to reply, he continued. "Because they are a force for good in this empty shell of a hellhole we call a world. Of all the people and organizations I''ve met out there in the wastnd, only the Followers don''t seem to have any ulterior motives. They want to heal the sick. Shelter the homeless. Feed the hungry. Educate the ignorant. And all they ask in return is enough to survive - and sometimes, they don''t even ask for that."


    "The Brotherhood, on the other hand," he paused, striking the cue ball. "Do not help people. They are little more than glorified scavengers. Everything they have is stolen, usually after the original owner has been disintegrated. And if they admitted to that, then I''d have no issue with them. At least... I wouldn''t harbor as much animosity. But the fact is, they don''t think they''re doing anything wrong. Just ask Veronica. They im everything they do is to protect humanity, even when their actions speak of murder and theft on the grandest of scales."


    "You know, I don''t have anything except hear-say for both sides of this argument," I said, aiming the dart in my hand straight at the bulls eye. "Aside from Veronica, I''ve never met anyone from the Brotherhood of Steel."


    "Well, I have," Arcade knocked the final pool ball into one of the corner pockets. "And I admit, Veronica is a nice girl, so I will try to keep my opinions to myself in the future... but they''re not all like that. Fact of the matter is, the Brotherhood is an organization that is rampant with hypocrisy. <strong>That</strong> is why I don''t like them. They''re massive hypocrites." Arcade looked away from me, and set the pool cue down with a sigh. "And I''ve had my fill of organizations who im to help people, but murder them instead."


    There was something about thatst statement... it threw me off. I just stared at Arcade as he grabbed hisbcoat and started walking out of the room. Before he left, I spoke up.


    "There''s another story behind that, isn''t there?" Arcade looked over his shoulder at me, and clutched at the doorframe.


    "Yes. Yes there is... And maybe... I''ll tell you someday." He let go of the door and turned away from me. "But not yet."


    I made my way to the balcony that surrounded the suite, cracking open another bottle of beer on the way. Perhaps here, I might be able to find that time alone to think that I desired so desperately?


    "Fuckin'' hell..." I heard a faint voice from somewhere to my left.


    Guess not.


    I followed the voice, walking the length of the curved balcony, until I came across Cass. She was leaning on the railing, looking out at Vegas, with a half-empty whiskey bottle still in hand. Her hat and jacket were nowhere to be seen, and her red hair wasn''t tied back like it normally was, but instead was falling loosely around her head. She must have heard my footsteps, because she turned to look up when I got close.


    "Oh! Uh... hey." She waved weakly at me, and turned back to the balcony. I came to a stop a few feet away from her, and leaned over the balcony as well.


    "Hey," I offered in response, trying to get a look at her. Most of her face was hidden behind the mass of red hair. She didn''t say anything for a few minutes. She just kept staring out at the skyline of Vegas.


    "Look, Sheas''n... ''boutst night... er, I mean, this mornin'', or..." Cass ran her free hand along the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way. "Ah, fuck, I don'' even know. Listen, m''sorry fer sneakin'' off like I did. I jus''... I didn''t want things t''get... awkward."


    "It was plenty awkward, waking up wondering ifst night even happened." If nothing else, at least now I had some kind of confirmation about the whole series of events. One less thing to worry about, I guess.


    "I meant awkward fer me," Cass looked away, back to the whiskey bottle in her hand. "Didn''t want t''deal with... mornin'' after stuff. Questions n''th'' like. Made that mistake b''fore with Veronica, n''look how that turned out?"


    "Hrm." I felt like Boone, since all I could think to say was a monosybic, nonmittal grunt. The two of us leaned against the railing, and the air between us became silent again. Cass shook her head and sighed.


    "D''yever feel like... maybein'' to th'' Mojave was a mistake?" she asked. I nodded.


    "All the time." Cass just nodded back at me.


    "If I never came here... maybe m''caravan wouldnt''ve..." Cass trailed off a bit, and took a swig of whiskey. "Plus, there''s V... An'' don'' get m''wrong, she''s awesome''n th'' sex is great but... I jus''... m''not lookin'' forward to talkin'' t''her ''bout..." she gulped audibly. "... stuff."


    "Yeah..." I reached in my pocket, and pulled out the tinum Chip, twirling it around my fingers a few times. "If I never took the job for this damn chip... who knows, maybe I wouldn''t have gotten shot in the face. Wouldn''t have to deal with armies, or megalomaniacs with robots, and I wouldn''t get shot at constantly." I thought about that for a minute, then added: "Or, at least as much."


    "Guess we both might''ve been better off if we never came here." Cass'' shoulders sagged, and her head drooped. I inched toward her and, against my better judgment, wrapped my arm around her left shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.


    "Maybe..." I said softly. She leaned against me and set her head against my chest with a soft thunk. I felt some movement around my back... was that... was she wrapping an arm around me?


    "Y''know... we don''t have t''stay. Neither one''v us. We could just pack up, an'' haul ass back to California. Leave all this craziness in th'' dust." I looked down, trying to get a look at Cass'' face. She was still looking out at Vegas... or maybe it wasn''t Vegas she was staring at. Maybe she was just looking west...


    "We?" I asked. Cass shrugged against me.


    "Sure. Why not? I''ve gotta start rebuildin'' m''caravan somewhere. An'' yer already a courier, so I know you''ve got experience. B''sides..." Cass looked up at me, through the mess of red hair falling down around her face. "Yer easy to talk to, ya don'' ask anythin'' ''ve me that you wouldn''t do yerself, it''d be easier to get around in yer car than walkin'' every-fuckin''-where..." A small smirk crept into the corner of Cass'' mouth. "Plus, th'' sex is pretty good, too. Definitely wouldn''t mind keepin y''around."


    I blinked a few times, processing what she was saying... and, for some reason, only spoke up about one of her points.


    "What, only ''pretty good''?" Cass shook her head andughed at me.


    "Yeah, well, you''re only working with so much." Without warning, Cass reached down and grabbed at my crotch, shing me a predatory smile. "You more than make up for it with enthusiasm, though." Her right arm started creeping up my back, and I could feel her drawing me closer...


    Alright Sheason, focus. No, I said focus, not... Get a hold of yourself! No, wait, that''s not right... Get a grip - aaugh! I mean - just - oh, for fuck sake!


    It took every single ounce of self control in my being, but... eventually, I grabbed her by both her wrists to dislodge her from me, and then held her at arms length by her shoulders.


    "Cass, what the fuck has gotten into youtely? And what about Veronica? Have you thought about what leaving would do to her?" I tried to talk some sense into her... and, based on her expression, it seemed like some of it was getting through. At least, a little bit.


    "Yeah, well... s''not like it''d be th'' first time I left with nothin'' but an'' empty whiskey bottle on th'' nightstand. Prob''ly won''t be th''st." Cass shook her head and sighed, shaking off my hands. I let her go, and thankfully she stayed put. "I guess I just... ev''rythin'' that''s been goin'' on - Benny, House, th'' NCR, Caesar''s Legion, th'' Dam, Crimson Caravan an'' th'' Van Graff''s... All''ve this is big an'' crazy. Bigger''n crazier than I''ve ever had t'' deal with. I''m not built fer this shit, y''know? I like it when things ain''tplicated. You seem t''get that. V jus''... she jus'' doesn''t." She picked her head up, brushed the hair out of her face, and stared at me with those grey eyes of hers. "I... I dunno. Maybe I jus'' turn t''sex when I get stressed. Maybe I jus'' want somethin'' in m''life t''make sense again. I dunno."


    Cass turned away from me, and leaned against the railing again. She sighed heavily.


    "Maybe I jus'' wanna stop fuckin'' things up fer m''self so bad. Or, if that don''t work, leave, so I won'' have t''deal with th'' consequences."


    "Cass, you haven''t fucked things up so badly that your only recourse is to run away. It''s like I keep telling you - what you need to do is <em>talk</em> to Veronica. Like you''re talking with me. It''s not hard. And it''ll help in the long run." I leaned against the railing myself - but this time, I decided to keep a respectful distance away. Just in case. Cass shook her head, and continued to look down.


    "Fuck me, man..." Cass let out a single, grimugh and started to smirk. "When th'' fuck did my life get so weird?"


    "That''s my line," I said, half-jokingly. She shrugged.


    "Hey, if th'' shoe fits..."

 Chapter 42: The Sierra Madre

    Chapter 42: The Sierra Madre


    <em>Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? If so, the Sierra Madre Casino, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again. Come to a ce where wealth, excitement and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beloved resort, make new friends, or rekindle old mes. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert under clear star-lit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our vi rooftops. Countless diversions await: Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you and cater to your every whim. So if life''s worries have weighed you down, if you need an escape from your troubles, or if you just need an opportunity to begin again, join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre grand opening this October... we''ll be waiting.</em>


    You know, it''s weird how sometimes your life leads you inpletely unexpected directions. I thought that after being shot in the face and getting back up, nothing would surprise me anymore. But I keep getting proven wrong.


    Like what happened that morning my Pip Boy decided to alert me to a new transmission. I''d never really paid too much attention to the radio tab on theputer on my arm. Never really liked listening to the radio. Of course, my bias could just be from that time my Corvega''s radio got swiped near Gecko and I never bothered to rece it. But then again, most radio stations always seemed to y songs from before the bombs dropped - and each station only had a library of about 20 songs.


    This, on the other hand... whatever this was, wasn''t like a normal radio station. It was just the same message about the Sierra Madre broadcast constantly, over and over again on a loop. What made it even stranger was my Pip Boy alerting me. Had it been doing that for every new radio transmission, or just some of them? Or had I just not been paying attention?


    "Mornin'' Shea!" Veronica''s voice broke me out of my reverie; I''d been so distracted with trying to figure this out, that I wandered into the kitchen without realizing. She had a mug of coffee in her hands, and took a sip. "... why are you staring at your Pip Boy?"


    "Because I''m trying to figure out where this radio transmission ising from. Here, listen to this, see if it makes any sense to you." I turned the volume up on the radio, and let her listen to the transmission. "Does that make any sense to you?" The two of us listened until the message started repeating. Veronica only started to look interested when she heard the words ''Sierra Madre.''


    "When did you first hear this?" Veronica asked.


    "This morning. I think it must be a fairly recent transmission, since my Pip Boy only alerted me to it a few hours ago." Veronica looked surprised, raising an eyebrow at that.


    "Your Pip Boy <em>alerted</em> you to it?" I gave her a nod.


    "Yeah. Warning beep and everything."


    "That doesn''t make sense..." Veronica scratched behind her head. "If it''s mentioning the opening of the Sierra Madre, then... this transmission should be hundreds of years old. The Sierra Madre was a hotel from before the war."


    "What, like here in Vegas?" I asked. Veronica shook her head.


    "No. It was definitely not a casino in Vegas - if it even existed at all. Or... if it <em>still </em>exists... I mean, I''d heard the legends and the rumors about the Sierra Madre before, but I always thought they were just that. Rumors" That piqued my interest. I looked down at the Pip Boy, and then back up at Veronica.


    "Do you think you might be able to figure out where the signal ising from?"


    "I think so..." Veronica set down her coffee cup on the table, and started to reach for my Pip Boy - and then stopped herself midway. "Do you mind if I take a look at your Pip Boy for a few minutes?"


    "Sure," I said with a shrug. "But I think we better sit down. I have a feeling you''re going to take a while. Am I right." Veronica nodded.


    "Probably."


    The next few minutes was spent with Veronica grabbing hold of my arm, cradling it in her hands like an old sensor module. Her eyes were moving rapidly, following the data she was pulling up on the wristputer''s screen. And all the while, she remained silent and focused on the task at hand - or, at wrist. Eventually, the suspense became way too much for me to bear.


    "So, what exactly are you looking for anyway?"


    "I''m trying to decode the RDS that''s piggybacking off this transmission''s frequency."


    "Decode what?" I asked, unsure of what she was talking about. She kept flicking through the screen.


    "Radio Data System." She looked up and, seeing my nk stare, rolled her eyes and continued. "Most radio broadcasts that transmit on an unencrypted FM channel use about 200 kilohertz of bandwidth, but only a small portion of that is devoted to music and audio. The Radio Data System, or RDS, is apletely separate signal that transmits information alongside the normal radio wave at 57 kilohertz, with a data rate of -" I had to stop this madness before she got too far. It was like talking to Arcade!


    "Hold up, hold up, stop with all the technical speak for a minute. Just tell me what you''re doing. Slower this time, and with smaller words, please." Veronica rolled her eyes again.


    "Alright, look. You know how your Pip Boy can tell you the name of the station, the song that''s currently ying, or the artist?" I nodded. I had noticed that, even though I didn''t really listen to the radio. "That informationes from the RDS, which ''piggy-backs'' off the audio transmission. I''m trying to decode it, because sometimes there will be streams of data embedded, encrypted, or otherwise hidden in the signal."


    "Kind of like sifting through white noise to find the password when hacking into a RobCo terminal," I added, hoping I was on target. I didn''t know anything about radio, but I knew the basics of hacking aputer at least. Veronica nodded.


    "Kind of. If I can sift through the data, then I might be able to figure out where this transmission ising from, or something else important." And with that, Veronica went back to studying the information on my Pip Boy''s screen.


    "Hey boss, is there someone else here?" I heard Raul outside the kitchen door about a minute before he stuck his head in. "My hearing hasn''tpletely gone, but I could swear I heard another female voice a minute ago."


    "Hey Raul. Nah, it''s nobody. I just... my Pip Boy started picking up a new transmission. Something about the Sierra Madre. So I''m having Veronica take a look at it." Raul went stiff, and his eyes went wide. "What? What did I say?"


    "Oh, man..." If he didn''t already look almost dead, I could swear that Raul looked even more pale than usual. He shook his head. "The Sierra Madre? That''s bad news boss." There was a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.


    "Bad news? How do you mean?" I asked.


    "You mean, you haven''t heard the stories, boss? I thought everyone had. The legend... the curses?" I shook my head again. "I''ve heard that the Sierra Madre... It lies within a city of the dead. Buried beneath a blood-red cloud. Treasure hunter after treasure hunter have searched for the ce, boss. None of them have evere back."


    "Please. Superstitious foolishness, that''s all it is." Veronica said without looking up from her work. "I don''t even think the Sierra Madre exists at all. It may have, at one point, but from what I''ve heard it was set to open on October 23, 2077. The day the bombs fell." Raul just shook his head again.


    "A lo bueno, dejarlo estar." Even though I couldn''t speak Spanish, his tone of voice gave me an inkling of what that meant. Still...


    "Which means?" I asked.


    "Basically? You should leave well enough alone, boss." Raul''s voice seemed more gravelly than usual when he spoke. "Especially when ites to the Sierra Madre. Nada ms que m suerte. You''ll find nothing but death there, boss."


    "Well, I guess it''s a good thing I wasn''t nning on going to the Sierra Madre." Raul raised what was left of an eyebrow, and took a step back, so I continued. "I just want to find out where this transmission ising from. I mean... a transmission like this, justing out of nowhere? It''s a bit odd, you have to admit." Raul sighed.


    "Well... do what you like, boss. I mean, I ''m just a broken down old man. What do I know?" Before I could argue that point, he left the kitchen again. So I shook my head and sighed, turning back to Veronica.


    "So, any progress?" Veronica didn''t respond. Instead, she just stared at the Pip Boy''s screen, wide-eyed and ck jawed. "Veronica?" I said a little louder, waving a hand in front of Veronica''s face. It seemed to snap her out of it.


    "Uh... sorry... I just..." Her breathing started to be slightly ragged and irregr, and that same sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach just got worse. "There''s something buried in the transmission that I recognize. It''s a fragment of a coding signature, but... it''s a <em>familiar</em> signature. A unique dual-encryption that I''ve never seen anyone else use."


    My brain picked up on that - it was the same wording she used when she and I talked about the Brotherhood, almost two weeks ago.


    "You don''t think..."


    "It''s Father Elijah. It has to be."


    It didn''t take much longer after Veronica''s revtion for her to figure out the origin of the transmission. ording to her, it wasing from a point close to the Colorado river, between the NCR''s Camp Forlorn Hope and Nelson. She plugged the coordinates into my Pip Boy, the two of us got our gear together, and decided to meet ED-E down in the car park.


    This was the third time in as many days that I''d left the 38 with thebat armor I''d received from the Gun Runners. I wonder what that said about me? I asked Veronica if she wanted to bring anyone else before we left, but she said no.


    She was... unnaturally quiet on the way there. She looked pensive and deep in thought as she sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. By the time we started passing through Henderson, I couldn''t take the silence from her any longer.


    "So, what do you think we''re going to find out there?" I asked. She turned her head back to me slightly, and shrugged.


    "I don''t know. But whatever it is, I don''t think it''s going to be the endpoint of the signal."


    "You don''t?" I asked. That was surprising... and just a bit troubling. I was starting to get that sinking feeling in my gut again. "Why not?"


    "Just something about the signal... I have a feeling that what we''re going to find will be a ry station - something that takes the signal from somewhere else and boosts it."


    "Do you think we''re going to find Elijah there?" I asked, hopefully. I mean, he <em>was</em> Veronica''s mentor. Maybe it would be good for her to see him again. She was quiet for a long while.


    "I... I don''t know. Maybe. But... I mean, it wouldn''t make sense."


    "Why wouldn''t it make sense? Didn''t you say that was Elijah''s signature you found?"


    "Because... do you remember the other thing I told you about Elijah? How nobody had seen him since the battle for HELIOS One? That wasn''t exaggeration. NOBODY has seen him for years. And the point on the map where the radio is pointing us toward... it''s only 10, maybe 15 miles east of the sr power station. I know Elijah. If he truly was hiding, why would he stay so close? He''s careful, he wouldn''t do something like that."


    "So, what do you think we''re going to find there?" I asked, mulling over the new information she was giving me.


    "I... I don''t know. I just don''t know."


    It was a pretty uneventful drive down highway 95, right up until I decided to turn off the road and head east towards the signal, just past a long abandoned gas station on the side of the road.


    "Hang on, why are we turning here?" Veronica asked, looking up after I turned off the highway. "There''s no road."


    "Yeah, well, I figure this is probably the best ce to turn. North of here is the road that leads past Camp Forlorn Hope, and I don''t know about you... but I''m not really in the mood to try and get past NCR troops without Boone to back me up. And if we head further south, and turn at Novac, that''d lead us way too close to Nelson."


    "Didn''t the NCR take back that town from Legion after we chased down Boone a couple weeks ago?" Veronica asked. I shrugged.


    "Maybe. I mean, it''s possible, but I''d rather not take any chances. Legion doesn''t give up. Evil like that never does."


    "So, if you didn''t want to take any chances, why are we heading this way?" That rumbling in the pit of my stomach was starting to get worse.


    "What do you mean? What makes this path risky?"


    "Don''t cazadores like to nest in hills like these? If we keep going this way, we''ll probably pass right through prime real estate for a cazador colony." As anxious as this talk was making me, my curiosity eventually won out over my growing apprehension.


    "Okay, that''s like the fifth time somebody has mentioned the word ''cazador'' since I came to the Mojave, and nobody has ever stopped to exin what the fuck a cazador actually is! What the hell is a fucking cazador already?"


    Veronica stared at me for a very long while; the only interruption came when the car jumped a rock or hit a patch of rough ground.


    "You''ve... never seen a cazador?" Veronica looked at me like I was crazy, and all the color seemed to drain from her face.


    "No, that''s what I keep telling you! Seriously, what the fuck is a cazador already?"


    "Well, it''s - ED-E?" Veronica looked past me, out the drivers side window. I turned around, only to see the eyebot flying sideways, a few inches from my car. I hit the brakes and turned the engine off, bringing the car to a stop so I could hear him. Immediately, I could hear the sounds I''m sure he''d been making the whole time: frantic beeps, worried sounding whistles, and a few bars of a familiar music he always yed when shit was about to hit the fan. I got out of the car and faced the floating eyebot.


    "ED-E? What''s - OW!" ED-E headbutted me! I clutched my face, sure that ED-E''s speaker grill was imprinted on my forehead. When I opened my eyes, I saw ED-E shifting his body to my left, and he made an annoyed noise at me.


    "That doesn''t sound good..." Veronica said. I had to agree.


    "Yeah, ED-E sounds real worried." As if in response, ED-E''s buzzing just got louder.


    "Not that, numbskull!" I turned back to look at Veronica, who was leaning out of the passenger window and pointing behind us. "THAT!" In hindsight, I should''ve gotten the hint earlier. I finally looked behind us, towards one of the hills we''d drove over less than a moment ago... and that''s when I realized the buzzing <em>wasn''t</em>ing from ED-E.


    Hovering above the crest of the hill behind us was... an insect. It was arge ck-shelled wasp, obviously mutated to enormous size, but still just an insect. It boasted a pair of red eyes, two pairs of orange wings that moved so fast they almost looked like a single solid object, and an enormous stinger protruding from its backside. The sound of it''s insect wings beating so fast was producing a shrill buzz that sounded much too loud to being from a single creature.


    "That''s a cazador?" I said. Sure, a giant mutant wasp could be trouble, but that was no reason for Veronica... to be... worried...


    Suddenly, another cazador hovered up from behind the ridge. Followed by a third. And then a fourth. And then dozens more. All buzzing. All hovering. And all <em>staring right at me.</em>


    "Right, time to go." I practically jumped into the car, turned the key, and hit the gas. The car took off, with ED-E right beside; he was flying backwards, stingsers towards the cazadores. I didn''t know if he was hitting any of them.


    "So! Cazadores are giant mutant wasps that hunt in packs! d I could finally get that cleared up!" I yelled over the roar of the engine... or was that the buzzing of the cazadores behind us that I was hearing? Both were equally loud. "Anything else I should know about them?" Beside me, I could see Veronica shifting around in her seat; apparently, she kept a 10mm pistol hidden underneath her robe, because she had a weathered N99 in her hands, and was checking to make sure it was loaded.


    "Uh... they''re poisonous?" she yelled with a grimace.


    "Oh, wonderful!" I shouted, trying my damnedest to pour on more speed - not easy when the ground is broken up more than a teenager''s face. "That''s just fucking marvelous!"


    There was a horrendous thud, and I felt the back of the car shake violently. I almost lost control of the back end, and really had to work to get the steering wheel back under control.


    "Oh, what the FUCK!?" I only nced behind me for a second, but that was long enough to see one of those massive insectspletely filling my back window, it''s six spindly legs mped tight, twitching and hovering right over the engine. Veronica fired her pistol at it, but I have no idea if it even did any good. I didn''t know where ED-E was. I was just trying to concentrate on driving us away from the swarm of giant mutant killer wasps.


    There was another series of thuds from right above us; the buzzing from their wings, amazingly, got even louder. I checked above my head, and realized that in several ces the roof hadrge new dents. Thankfully, the roll cage was holding and keeping the important parts of the car in ce. Question was: for how long?


    I nted my foot to the floor, and tried to weave the car around to see if that would shake them off. I slid the car around a nearby boulder, and heard a series of thuds behind and above me. With any luck, that was the sound of the mutant insects getting tossed off the car.


    "Keep it steady!" Veronica said still firing her pistol behind me. I looked back, to see if the bugs were still following. Of course, they were. I had no idea how we were going to shake these things.


    "Look out!" Veronica shouted and I snapped my attention back to the front of the car - just in time to see us smash windshield first into a cazador. The windshield cracked in several ces, but held firm; the cazador rolled around on the hood in front of me, wings and insect limbs iling. I turned the steering wheel violently again to try and shake it off, but it twitched to get itself upright again, and the insect limbs mped down on the hood.


    "Oh, give us a fuckin'' break already!" I kept trying to shake it off, but it kept hold. Suddenly there was an awful grinding noise, the Corvega swung around, and flung Veronica and me forward. I could hear the engine revving, but still the car refused to move. I kept my foot hard down on the elerator, but no matter what I did, the car wouldn''t budge. The cazador hadn''t even been fazed - and I watched with a mounting sense of dread as it lifted up the massive stinger on its backside and plunged it into the windshield. The ss around the stinger shattered and exploded inwards, and even more spiderweb-like cracks appeared, but thankfully the windshield didn''t breakpletely.


    "Motherfucker!" I yelled, grabbing Roscoe out of the holster on my leg. Veronica had the same idea, and the two of us started firing our pistols point nk at the cazador through the hole it had created. There was no way we could miss, but somehow it didn''t seem affected, and just kept pounding on the hood.


    "The car won''t move!" I yelled to Veronica. "We''ve gotta get out of here!"


    "On foot?!" Veronica reloaded her pistol and looked at me with a wide-eyed expression. "What, are you crazy?"


    "What choice do we have?" I was about to leap out of the car before I realized there was another cazador hovering right outside the door. I grabbed the door handle and pushed as hard as I could, smashing the door into the head of the massive insect with a crunch. The mutant wasp iled and twitched on the ground. I fired at the cazador, to make sure it was dead, but Roscoe went dry after two shots. Every cazador in sight immediately started flying directly towards my now open door, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I was done for. There was no way I could get to any of the heavier ordnance in the trunk before those wasps cut me to ribbons.


    Before I knew what was happening, I heard a boom in the air like some kind of old world explosion, and a beam of bright blue lightnced through the air from behind us and hit the cazador still perched on the hood of my car. The top half of the insect broke apart and disintegrated, leaving nothing but a charred abdomen. The dozens of mutant insects around us stopped, and turned as one in the direction of the shot.


    "What the fuck just happened?" Veronica asked, bolted to her chair. I looked behind us, suspicious as to the cause myself. As it turned out, I was right.


    Standing on the crest of the hill where the cazadores originally appeared was a single, solitary figure dressed all in ck. That figure wasn''t standing still, however. Whoever it was, they were sting the iing cazadores with energy st after energy st. I didn''t see another bright blue beam like before, but there was a multitude of redsers, greensers, green sma sts, and... bolts of blue energy. Thatst one was the strangest, because the only kind of energy weapon that made a blue bolt like that before was the strange pistol carried by the alien who crashnded north of Vegas. The mutant wasps buzzed towards the darkened figure, but every single one of them was cut down by the fuside of iing energy fire.


    Less than thirty seconds after making themselves known, the shadowy figure was the only thing left standing. The ground was littered with smoking and ckened cazador carcasses. I got out of my car to get a better look at the person who had saved us... and I was just in time to see them turn around and start to walk away.


    "Hey, wait!" I yelled, starting to run toward the shadowy figure. Whoever it was stopped momentarily, and looked over his or her or its shoulder back at me - and stared at me with three glowing yellow eyes. That clinched it - this was the same person who killed Orris in Freeside. I ran faster, hoping I could catch up with them - but I was toote. The air filled with the smell of ozone, there was a crackle of electricity and the air around the figure shimmered slightly, before they disappeared altogether.


    I searched the area for a few minutes after whoever it was had disappeared, to see if there was any sign at all... but no. Obviously there weren''t any shell casings, since whoever it was killed all the cazadores with energy weapons. The ground was too rocky, so I couldn''t even see any footprints. Granted, I''m not exactly an adept tracker, but this was ridiculous.


    "What the FUCK?!" I shouted at no one,pletely baffled by what just had happened. By this time, ED-E and Veronica had finally reached my spot at the crest of the hill; Veronica was carefully making her way around the cazador corpses.


    "Nothing, huh?" I shook my head and kept looking around. "So, who was that? I suppose we should thank him for saving our skins back there."


    "I don''t know." I started walking down the hill, back toward my car.


    "You don''t?" Veronica said, keeping pace.


    "You remember when I told you how Orris got killed?" Veronica nodded. "I think that was the same assassin." ED-E made a strange sounding series of trilling beeps.


    "That''s... weird." I had to agree. "Why would an assassin go bug stomping?"


    "Why would someone with those kinds of guns kill a fuck-up like Orris?" I shrugged as the three of us got back to my car. I knelt down to check and see why my car had stopped working. From what it looked like, I must have driven over a rock, and it got stuck under the front bumper. I grabbed at the car under the bumper, and tried to lift it, but it wouldn''t budge. "Hey, V? Think you can give me a hand?"


    "Sure, but..." She grabbed me by the shoulder and gently nudged me out of the way. "You might want to stand clear." With one hand, she grabbed under the bumper, there was a crunch, and she lifted the whole front of the car up to about waist height - well clear of the rock it was caught under. The motion made the half-burned carcass of the cazador roll unceremoniously off the hood and onto the ground with a wet crunch. She gave the car a shove, and it moved back about 5 feet, kicking up a massive cloud of dust in the process. I was a bit stunned; she just smiled at me, looking smug and flexed her arm.


    "How the fuck did you do that?" I had a suspicion, but I thought it best to ask anyway.


    "Semi-powered armor. It''s a bit of an experiment of mine, based on some notes Father Elijah gave me and built around a set of recon armor. It doesn''t offer the same level of protection or strength enhancement as a real set of powered armor, but it does the job in a pinch."


    "Wait, are you saying you''re not as strong as you would be if you were wearing real power armor?" The implications of that were staggering. She just shrugged.


    "Even if I was wearing an old model like the T-45D, I could probably bench press that car with one hand. In T-51B, I could probably <em>throw </em>it." I could feel my left eye twitch, and Veronica just moved back to my car. She looked back at me with a smile. "So, are we going or what?"


    "So... is this it?" Veronica asked at the edge of the small ridge. I looked at my Pip Boy, and nodded.


    "ording to the coordinates, this is it." I furrowed my brow and stared down the ridge. It was like a small sinkhole, at the base of which was a small ring of concrete and a manhole cover in the center. "I don''t like it."


    "Yeah... there''s something about it that seems kind of odd. I mean, I don''t see anything that could ry a signal, which means it must be underground..." Veronica nodded, and ED-E beeped next to me in agreement. "So, are we going in?"


    "Of course." I started to slide down the side of the ridge, and lifted up the manhole cover. Inside it was almost pitch ck, and there was a metaldder bolted to the wall leading into the darkness. I turned on the light on my Pip Boy, and slowly made my way down thedder into the darkness.


    "What do you see down there?" I heard Veronica say from above. I looked around, and I found myself in a small metal box, with a set of stairs leading yet further down. There were a few dim lights on the rusted walls, and the floor was littered with trash and bits of debris. There was some graffiti on the wall, however: all of which seemed to reference the Sierra Madre.


    "Not much," I said, walking toward the back, where one of the lights had burnt out. "Just some trash and... wait, hang on. I think I see something." I shined my light on an irregr shape, and immediately came to a halt.


    There was a body lying on the ground. It was wearing a light blue, almost grey jumpsuit with a red "X" spray painted on the back. More worrying than anything else, however, was his head - orck thereof. There was just a stump left. I switched my eyes to thermal. The body was ice cold. Add in the fact that it wasn''t a skeleton, and that meant this body had been dead for a while, but less than a month since the skin hadn''t started to liquefy.


    I pulled out Roscoe and flicked the safety off. Something wasn''t right here, and I wanted to be ready. Maybe there was time to get more weapons from my car before heading further in? Unfortunately, no there wasn''t. There was a sound like metal grinding against metal, and I turned in time to see Veronica slide down thedder.


    "I don''t think ED-E ising. I''m pretty sure he can''t fit through the manhole." I heard a series of loud indignant mechanical squawks from above us, and Veronica shrugged. "Yeah, those antenna can''t really get into tight ces."


    "Something''s not right here..." I said, aiming my gun down the stairs, and slowly making my way down. Veronica fell in behind me. "Do you have anything other than that 10 millimeter?"


    "Just my fists," Veronica held up her hands, to illustrate the point. "Left the super sledge back at the 38."


    "Well, just... be prepared for anything." The two of us made our way down the stairs until the hallway leveled out again. "There was a body up there without a head, and I don''t want any -" There was an extremely loud noise of metal grinding against metal from right behind me, followed by a thud that reverberated throughout my whole body. I looked behind me, and was face to face with a steel st door. "What the fuck?!"


    "Sheason!" Veronica''s muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Sheason are you alright?" I heard a few dull thuds. She must have been beating against the door.


    "Yeah, I''m fine, but..." I grabbed hold of one of the levers on the door, but it wouldn''t budge. It was like it was welded shut. "The door''s sealed. I don''t think I''m getting back out this way." I looked around, down the hallway. It was a short metal hallway, and at the end I saw what looked like a small table with a radio in the middle of it. I steadied Roscoe.


    I didn''t like this. Not one bit.


    "V, I''m gonna... I''m gonna try and find another way out." I aimed Roscoe down the hallway. I heard more banging against the metal door. I made my way slowly down the hallway toward the radio.


    "Sheason, the door won''t - I can''t get it open! Sheason!" Her voice started to fade as I made my way down the hallway.


    This was not a good idea. In the back of my head, I knew that this was a bad idea. But I couldn''t get out the way I hade. So it''s not like I had any other choice but to go forward. The way this day was going, I just knew things weren''t going to end well. But at the time... I didn''t know just <em>how</em> not well. It had already been a long fucking day... and it was about it get longer.


    I crossed the threshold into the small room. The radio on the table in the center was illuminated by a small spotlight... as I got closer, I realized the radio was ying the same broadcast about the Sierra Madre.


    <em>... if you need an escape from your troubles, or if you just need an opportunity to begin again, join us...</em>


    There was a loud metal clunk from above me. A quartet of vents in the ceiling opened up and gas started flooding the chamber.


    <em>... let go, and leave the world behind...</em>


    I tried to cover my nose and mouth, but it was already toote. I could feel myself go lightheaded, and my vision started to blur.


    <em>... at the Sierra Madre grand opening this October...</em>


    The room started to spin. Everything went sideways. Thest thing I knew before my world went ck was... electricity?


    <em>...we''ll be waiting.</em>


    My eyes cracked open, and I suddenly became acutely aware that every part of me was sore. My stomach was churning, and my skin was burning all over. I was lying facedown on the ground somewhere, that much was certain. Slowly, I tried to pick myself up, and the effort made me cough profusely. For some reason, it felt hard to breathe.


    Ok, what the fuck happened? I remember going into the bunker, and then... and then... there was... gas? The air feels weird. Like there''s still gas around me. I looked down at my arm - I still had my Pip Boy, but... I wasn''t wearing the Riot Gear or the duster that went with it.


    I was wearing a grey jumpsuit.


    I looked up, and couldn''t quite believe what I was seeing. I was kneeling on the ground in front of arge fountain. It was arge circr fountain, with tiles lining the rim, and a pedestal in the middle that looked like water should be spilling off the side, but the fountain waspletely dry. I also saw the ghostly image of a woman wearing a low-cut evening dress that was slit up the side (allowing her to show off her rather nice legs) standing on the very top of the pedestal in the center of the fountain. The image of the woman was blue, and I saw what looked like scanlines running up and down her body - like the kind of thing you''d see on a flickering monitor with a bad transmission. Was this... I mean, the first thing that came into my head was that it was a hologram. But that seemed a bit too science fiction.


    All around me were buildings with grimy, dirty walls and red tiled roofs packed so close they all looked like one continuous building. Looming above everything, directly behind the fountain, was a massive tower, like a hotel. It was perched on the side of a cliff, at the end of a massive flight of stairs... and I couldn''t quite make out how many stories the building had.


    But the most worrying thing of all? I couldn''t see the sky. There were clouds, but they... they weren''t natural clouds. It was a sea of rolling, churning, blood red clouds. It was like a mixture of fog and low-hanging storm clouds, except instead of white or dark grey, they were <em>red</em>, and it unnerved the piss out of me.


    I eventually stopped staring at the clouds above me when I heard a noise from the fountain. The ghostly woman had disappeared, and a small panel in the rim of the fountain was opening up. There was a soft electric whine, and an image like a TV screen floated in the air in front of me where the woman stood before she disappeared. Projected onto the floating see-through screen was a static image of an old, bearded man with long scraggly hair, and massive bags under his eyes. The image didn''t move, but those eyes looked like they were staring at me. It was unnerving. The more I looked at it, the more I realized - these <em>must</em> be holograms. There''s nothing else they could be.


    There was a sound like a microphone being turned on too close to a speaker, followed by a pair of taps. And then I heard a voice - it was a man''s voice, so I assumed it belonged to the image hovering in front of me. It was deep and raspy, like someone who''d spent every day of their life smoking three packs of cigarettes a day, washing it down with two bottles of whiskey.


    "Are you listening?" The owner of the voice spoke quickly, and with an undisguised sense of urgency. I nodded, not knowing if it would do any good. Could he see me? "Good. From now on, when I talk, listen - and follow my instructions. y stupid, y clever, make the mistake of saying ''no?'' That cor on your neck will go off, and take your head with it."


    "Cor?" I breathed, and reached up to my neck. I felt something foreign. Something cold and circr surrounding my neck.


    Something metal.


    "How did I get here?" I asked the image, still clutching at what I was sure was a bomb cor around my neck.


    "Hmm! Get here?" He gave a short, curt sort ofugh. I heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a slow exhale - and then, a series of coughs. When he regained hisposure, the voice continued. "You walked into one of my traps in the Mojave... following the Sierra Madre signal. Now, you''re here, with that cor on your neck . It''s like that Pip Boy on your wrist, except filled with explosives. A little radio of the old world... just needed some tuning. Do what I say, and cor won''t go off... refuse, try and run, disobey me? I''ll kill you and find someone else. There''s no escape from here until I let you go. The sooner you ept your situation, the better."


    As if the surroundings I was currently dropped in wasn''t enough, I could tell from the tone in his voice that he wasn''t fucking around. I had to y along, until I could figure out a way to get this cor off me without blowing my own head off, and I could get back to the Mojave.


    "Then maybe you better tell me why I''m here." I said, clenching my fists. I could feel my breathing getting ragged. Why was it so hard to breathe? It was almost like I was back in that bunker underneath Caesar''s fort across the Colorado. Was this ce flooded with radiation? I forced it out of my mind. I''d cross that bridge when I came to it.


    "That structure you see above the fountain - the Sierra Madre Casino... you need to break inside. A..." he paused, as if searching for right word. "... heist. Too many years in the making. But to get inside, avoid its traps... you''ll need to gather the team. As I''ve found, one cannot do it alone."


    "I''m not alone then," I said, looking around. I looked down at my feet, and saw what looked like a pump-action grenadeuncher lying on the ground. I picked it up and examined it as he talked. Whatever this gun was, it most certainly was <em>not</em> a grenadeuncher.


    "Around the vi are three other cors like yours - Cor 8, 12, and 14. Find all three and get them here. To the fountain. Then, we''ll talk more. And should you get any ideas about killing them and taking the treasure of the Sierra Madre for yourself - a warning. All your cors are linked. One of you dies? You <strong>all</strong> die. If that''s what it takes to make you cooperate, so be it."


    Boy, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn''t it? I cursed under my breath, wishing that I''d never followed that damn signal. I sighed, and looked back at the floating hologram in front of me.


    "All right... fine. So, you want me to find the other three people with bomb cors, and bring them back here?" I shouldered the rifle, still unsure as to what it actually was.


    "I''ve downloaded instructions on an audio log to your Pip Boy - in case you can''t read," he seemed to add that part with a hint of disgust in his voice. "...as well as map markers to help you get around. And yes, I have ess to that device on your wrist. If necessary, I will guide you through the Vi''s broadcast systems. Get the other three here. After that... I''ll have more instructions for you. Do this, I''ll let you go. I''ll let all of you go."


    As much as I believed him when he said he wouldn''t hesitate to blow my cor at the first sign of resistance, I did not believe for even a second thatst statement about letting me go. I''d y along, but I just knew I''d have to find my own way out.


    "Just one thing. I like to know who I''m working for. You got a name?" I heard more coughing over the transmission; the face stayedpletely still.


    "Someone who followed the call of the Sierra Madre, just as you did. My identity is irrelevant to the task at hand. But, if you must call me something... I am Elijah. And you will follow my orders to the letter - or I <em>will</em> kill you, without hesitation. Now go." The image disappeared, and the panel in the side of the fountain folded back in on itself.


    "Great," I said to no one but myself. So, I''d found Veronica''s mentor. And what a lovely meeting it had been!


    Alright, time to get my bearings. I brought up my Pip Boy, and opened up the map feature. Like Elijah had said, there were several markers on the map of my immediate vicinity. But I needed to find out exactly where I was, so I started zooming out. And zooming out some more. And zooming out further still. I started to get really, really worried. None of the terrain that was showing up on the map looked familiar. Not even slightly. Eventually, I zoomed out far enough that I could make out coastlines. And when I realized where I was... I just kind of... shut down.


    "Oh, you have got to be KIDDING me! How the everliving FUCK did I even get DOWN here?!"


    Mexico.


    The Sierra Madre Casino was in Mexico.


    This is going to be a long day. Isn''t it?

 Chapter 43: Finding goD

    Chapter 43: Finding goD


    This was turning into a distinctly bad situation.


    Alright Sheason, stay calm. You may be stuck in Mexico without your armor, weapons, gear, friends, or any choice in the matter due to the bomb cor, but there are two things going for you. First thing: you still have your Pip Boy, something you didn''t have on your trip to Caesar''s fort. And the second thing: at least you''re armed with... whatever the fuck this weapon is supposed to be.


    I turned the rifle around in my hands, just to figure out what it <em>was</em>. I could tell that it was originally a 40mm pump-action grenadeuncher (probably) but there were so many different things bolted to the outside of the gun that it most definitely <em>wasn''t</em> a 40mm grenadeuncher anymore. Tubes and wires lined the side of the barrel, and a box-like scope simr to the kind of scope mounted on aser rifle was locked in ce on the top. The grenadeuncher''s iron sights werepletely gone, and the barrel had an extension to it, which ended in apletely t, round emitter. Was this some kind of energy weapon?


    I took a chance, and pumped the fore-end under the barrel, to see if anything was expelled out of the gun. Sure enough, a port on the side of the gun ejected something onto the ground: arge cylinder. I knelt down and picked up... a microfusion cell? Alright, definitely some kind of energy weapon then. A few more pumpster, the gun was empty and I was left with a grand total of four microfusion cells. Which was both good and bad. Good, because now I knew how many rounds fit in the rifle (probably), and bad because that meant I only had four cells in total.


    I didn''t know what to think of that if I''m honest... Aser rifle will get close to 24 shots out of a single microfusion cell. A sma rifle will get 11 - maybe 12. If this was one cell per shot, that meant whatever the fuck this was, it was potentially very powerful, but I would have to make every single shot count. And who knows if I''d be able to find more mf cells here?


    When I started to reload the rifle, I heard a crackle in the air like radio static.


    "I suggest you start moving," Elijah''s voice rasped from my Pip Boy''s speaker, rather than from the fountain. He coughed twice and continued. "Stay in ce for too long, and you''re an easy target for the inhabitants of the Vi. And if they don''t kill you... then exposure to the Cloud surely will. So hurry. Use the markers on your Pip Boy''s map, and find the other cors. I suggest you find Cor 8 first - the FEV reject. You should be able to find him in the Vi police station - that''s where I lost contact with him. Some kind of interference... He''s docile, predictable and - provided he''s not starving - easy tomand. Now go."


    I stared down at the screen and sighed. Maybe my Pip Boy is going to be more of a liability than an asset after all.


    "Don''t worry, I''m moving," I hefted up the rifle, picked a random direction, and started walking down the narrow streets. I quickly discovered that whoever built this ce designed it for foot traffic. Despite being outside, the buildings were so close together and the streets were so narrow and twisty that it was making me extremely ustrophobic. "So, I guess you''ve hacked into my Pip Boy if you''re talking to me through it, then?"


    "Of course," Elijah said with a touch of annoyance - like I was stating the obvious. "Numbers, equations, circuits... all can be controlled, provided there''s a connection and the knowledge to use it. This Vi, the casino... a treasure trove of such devices. One must simply know where to look. No machine is foolproof. They are designed to obey us. The Pip Boy''s operating system has vulnerabilities... advantages to those who''ve studied its construction, even superficially. It''s just a machine, though. Its real vulnerability is who wears it. And that''s how you were caught."


    "Fair enough, I guess," I grumbled under my breath, carefully making my way through the streets. "So, since I seem to have your attention, and you haven''t blown me up yet, maybe you can answer a few more questions I have about this ce."


    "Hmph..." Elijah grunted, and I heard a series of clicks over the speakers, followed by a steady intake of breath and a soft sound of something smoldering. Sounds like Elijah''s a smoker. "I am short on patience. And you are short on time."


    "So... was that a yes, or..."


    "Ask," he practically shouted into the speaker.


    "Alright, first off - what did you do with all my gear?"


    "I did nothing with your gear," Elijah said simply. He continued before I got a chance to protest. "Your arrival here, weaponless, was not my intention. The Sierra Madre has many... defenses. Means of screening guests for illicit or dangerous items. Mechanisms that were set in motion before the bombs dropped."


    "And they still work?" I asked incredulously. I kept walking through the narrow streets, unnerved by the silence that was only asionally broken up by intermittent thunderps from the blood-red clouds above.


    "Oh yes. Of course they still work. The casino, this Vi... it takes anything with even a trace of radioactivity, traces of unknown substances - or contraband from before the War - and it stores it in a secure location. The bunker..." he trailed off, mumbling to himself. He coughed and continued. "The process is fully automated, and the casino itself has other simr... ''services.'' I was unable to find a reliable workaround, except to send others in as tools. Still... I have not left youpletely defenseless." I looked down at the rifle in my hands as he spoke.


    "So, what is this, anyway?"


    "What is what?" Elijah snapped. "Only a handful of the V''s closed-circuit cameras still function, and you''re currently in a dark zone. You''ll have to tell me what you''re talking about," I looked around me, scanning the rooftops, the archways, and the overhangs. Alright, so that was a useful piece of information. He could talk to me through the Pip Boy, and was presumably using it to track my location as well, but he couldn''t always see me. I had to work that to my advantage somehow. In the meantime...


    "The rifle that was on the ground next to me when I woke up. What is it?"


    "Ah," he grunted with recognition, and cleared his throat. "That is a holorifle, a weapon I designed and constructed upon first arriving here. I have since made superior models - and modifications. For now, that tool will have to do until you find other weapons. I suggest you do so quickly - the holorifle''s ammunition is limited. Still, it should serve you well enough. I fashioned it from the holograms of the Vi and used it against the Vi''s... ''living'' inhabitants."


    There was something odd and off-putting about the way he said living... I walked up a small set of stairs, and rounded a corner, which deposited me in a small courtyard. There was another set of stairs to my right leading up, and next to it was a small waterfall-fountain (with no water) mounted into a nearby wall. Directly below the fountain was a skeleton - with what looked like a spear sticking out of the ribcage. Directly above was some graffiti: "FIND GOD IN THE SIMPLEST OF BEASTS" I stared at the writing on the wall for a minute. For some reason, it looked odd... and then it hit me. About half of the letters were backwards, like I was looking at what someone had written through a mirror.


    "So, there are actually people still living here? That''s surprising." I pulled the spear out of the skeleton, and twirled it around in my hands to inspect it... and realized rather quickly that it wasn''t... <em>quite</em> a spear. What it was, really, was just a broomstick handle with four kitchen knives duct taped onto one end. I looked closer at the knives - at first, I thought they were covered in rust, but the more I looked at it, the more I was convinced that it was the same kind of red crap in the air and covering the walls. I started to run a finger close to one of the de edges - I mean, this thing had been out here for so long, there''s no way it could still possibly be shar-


    OW! Motherfucker! Alright, it''s still sharp, as proven by my now bleeding finger. The weird thing was... all that red crap on the side of the de, but the actual cutting edge of the de waspletely clean. Even the blood from my finger where the de had cut me had simply slid off, and didn''t even leave a mark. That was odd.


    "Yes... the inhabitants..." Elijah coughed again. "<em>People</em> isn''t quite the right word to describe them. Not anymore." I heard a noise above me,ing from beyond the top of the next set of stairs. I wasn''t quite sure what it was. There was a strange Doppler effect to the sound, distorting it into something distinctly alien and unrecognizable. Very carefully, I crept up the stairs and tried to see what was making the noise.


    About 60 or 70 yards distant, I saw movement - a body moving between buildings. I say body because I wasn''t sure if it was a man or a woman... or was even human at all. It was a dark mass of vaguely human proportions, but the way it moved was... it was all wrong. The legs I thought were slow and sluggish at first, but I looked closer and realized the movements of putting one leg in front of the other was ordered and distinct. That doesn''t seem odd on its own, but when youbined that with the rest of the body, it was incredibly unnerving. From the waist up, the torso was slumped over, swaying backward and forward as it moved; its arms and head hung limp, like there was no feeling there at all. All the while it moved, it made that same rasping noise, like heavy breathing through a filter, muffled and distorted by some kind of pulsing Doppler effect.


    "I suggest you avoid them, if you can," I heard Elijah whisper; perhaps he could see me, or saw the... whatever it was in front of me, and decided not to give away my position too much. "They are... difficult to kill. Whatever created them has made them resistant to bullets, explosions, energy... those things can make them inert for a time, but then they seem to crawl back up, restored - unless you chop them apart or dismember them. Removing their limbs keeps them dead. Perhaps their virtual immortality is due to some unknown properties of the Cloud... perhaps something to do with their physiology. I''m sure I''ll have time to figure it outter..."


    I slowly edged my way back down the stairs, clutching the spear in my hand. This was not encouraging. I thought of all the horrible things I''d had to fight over the years - feral ghouls, mutant insects, super mutants, deathws... all of them died if you shot them. Sometimes it would take a lot of ammunition, but when they eventually went down they never <em>got back up</em>. Something that didn''t truly die unless you dismembered it... that''s the sort of thing you''d only find in an old horror movie holotape - the kind with chainsaws, shotguns, lots of excessive gore, and guys with unfeasiblyrge chins.


    I didn''t realize I was still backing up until my back hit the wall of a small alcove next to the fountain. My free hand hit the wall, and it felt... slimy? I pulled my hand away from the wall - my palm was covered in a thin film of some strange red dust. I tried to wipe it off on my pant leg, but it wouldn''te off, no matter how hard I brushed. Calm down, Sheason. If you panic, you''ll make crap decisions, and then you''ll wind up dead. And dead is thest ce you want to be. Especially here.


    I looked around, and out of the corner of my eye saw something that glowed on one of the pirs. I set down the spear to investigate. It was a white hand print - why it was glowing, I have no idea. Below it, hidden in the shadow of the pir and almost out of sight, was a suitcase. With any luck, it would be unlocked - or I could force it open - and I would put my scrounging skills to a proper test for the first time in years. While I was doing that, I decided to ask Elijah another question that had been bothering me.


    "So, this Cloud you mentioned - this giant red mass of crap in the air - what the fuck is it? Is it the reason the walls are so filthy?" The suitcase opened with a snap, and joy of joys, it wasn''t empty. It was full of many objects, but the very first thing I noticed: a revolver. It looked like a snub-nosed version of a Colt Service Revolver, chambered for .38 special rounds. There was even a box of ammo.


    "The Cloud is what nkets the Sierra Madre, yes... copper and sulfur and other elements.. burns the lungs and seeps into the skin," Elijah coughed again, and I could barely hear him take another faint draw from a cigarette. "As for its origins... I am not certain. Pre-War industrial pollutants... something in the Sierra Madre structure... It is unique across the wastnd. And deadly. It has kept this ce preserved since the Great War."


    "Alright, when you say deadly," I started rifling through the suitcase, trying to see if there was anything else in a hidden pocket somewhere. "How deadly are we talking here? I''m not going to die just because I brushed my hand against a wall, am I?" Seriously, Sheason. Stop panicking. It''s not going to do you any good.


    "The air here is only truly lethal if you encounter concentrated pockets." There was something in Elijah''s tone... it was like he felt that he was exiningmon knowledge. "You''ll know it when you see one. Too long inside, you''ll die. So be careful where you step. I''ve seen some survive concentration of the cloud for short periods of time if healthy enough - others were too weak. Spend too long outside, and the buildup of Cloud on your skin will still kill you - concentrated pockets of Cloud or no. Rebreathers, chemical suits... there is no protection. It... it decays all it touches. Fighting it is an exercise in futility."


    "Oh, that''s just wonderful," I said pulling a stimpack out of the suitcase, and tapping the ss casing a few times to check and see if it was full or used. Thankfully, it was still full. I was probably going to need that soon. "Is there any safe ce in this hellhole?"


    "No." Elijah said simply. "But if you mean safe from exposure to the Cloud? Anywhere sheltered. Inside buildings, tunnels... any ce not exposed to the outside air. Anything the Cloud has touched has preserved it in one way or another... but only the holograms of the Vi truly remain."


    Something I was starting to notice: Elijah certainly liked hearing himself talk. It was almost like I was back in the Lucky 38, and House was monologuing at me. I could only imagine what would happen if I were to get those two in a room together... there would be no survivors from the artillery barrage of exposition. Still, if I kept him talking, I might have time to think of a way out of this. Hell, he might slip up and actually say something useful that I could use against him...


    "Holograms, huh? Like that blue woman above the fountain then?" I was continuing to rummage around in the suitcase as I talked, and I found something strange - about twenty three disks, fashioned into octagons. I took a close look at one of them, and saw the relief of a woman''s face in profile, with a hand on her chin and a flower in her hair. Below her nose were the letters "SM." I had a sneaking suspicion that these were the chips for the casino... and decided to keep hold of them. Something in the back of my mind told me that they were important.


    "Oh yes. Ghosts of the old world... they fill the Vi. There are more in the casino. Much more. They carry out the functions the dead once did in life. They cannot be harmed... they only perform the same rote tasks until their power dies. They are of no consequence..." Elijah started coughing badly, eventually taking his mouth away from whatever he was using as a mic, and the sound dulled slightly.


    "That doesn''t seem so bad." Of course, I spoke too soon. Once Elijah''s coughing fit ended, he kept talking as if he hadn''t stopped.


    "...except for the Security holograms."


    "Security?" I asked, loading each of the chambers in the revolver''s cylinder except for the one lined up with the barrel, made sure the safety was on, and shoved it securely into the back of my belt. "How are they different?"


    "The Security holograms - the ones with the silhouettes of the armored guards - only have one single function. They will kill anything they detect. They arepletely unaffected by guns, weapons, EMPs... even energy weapons. Still, like all technology... they have limitations. Their design limits their field of view. At least, enough to avoid detection. Each hologram also has an emitter - destroy or disable it, and they cease to be a threat. That is, if you can find the emitter."


    "I don''t suppose you''re able to shut them down remotely from... wherever you are?" I asked, finding a strap in the suitcase; I was able to attach it to the underside of the holorifle, and I slung it across my back.


    "No." Elijah said simply.


    "No, I thought not," I mumbled in annoyance. "That would make it too easy, wouldn''t it?"


    "Just be d the holograms are working as intended," Elijah paused - presumably to smoke - and continued. "Other technology here is a much greater threat to you. The Vi radio''s and speaker system, for instance..." Elijah''s voice got softer, and he trailed off.


    "Yeah, you''re going to have to run that by me again. How are radios dangerous?" I clutched the spear in my hands, and very carefully made my way back to the stairs with my haul. Slowly, I peeked over the top of the stairs to the street beyond. The creature I''d seen before was now no longer in sight. With any luck, it had moved off to somewhere else, and wouldn''t be back.


    But let''s be honest. I''m not that lucky at the best of times, and certainly not today.


    "Music was intended to be broadcast all over the Vi... over time, however, the radio signal decayed and started emitting a... <em>different</em> frequency. Now, the speakers and radios interfere with the frequencies of the bomb cors. They can trigger the detonators... prematurely." I just stopped in the middle of the street; I felt my left eye twitch, and there was an intense throbbing in my temple, just below the bullet scar on my forehead. "It is an unfortunate side effect, one I did not anticipate," Elijah mused, almost academically. "I was unable to calibrate the cors to block the signals - so you''ll just have to make do."


    "You have to be fucking with me," I finally said when I found my voice. "So, along with everything else - the zombies that can''t be killed unless you chop them up, the gas that''s slowly killing me, and holograms that shoot first and ask questions never - this ce is filled with a minefield of radios that can blow my fucking head off? Is there anything in this shithole <strong>not</strong> trying to kill me, or is that too much to ask?"


    "You need to stopining." Elijah growled over my Pip Boy. "You seem resourceful enough - otherwise, why would you be carrying that spear, or have that pistol in your belt?" I looked around. If he knew what I was carrying, that must mean there was at least one camera around somewhere... "I''m sure that if you''re careful, you''ll be fine. Or you''ll get your head blown off, and I''ll be forced to find someone new. Either way... it is of no concern of mine. Just get the job done."


    That ringing was going to drive me mad.


    It had been nearly 10 minutes since Elijah''sst transmission. Either he could still hear me and had simply decided not to monologue anymore, or he had severed the transmissionpletely. Either way, I was fine with staying quiet. I didn''t want to risk saying anything - the more noise I made, the greater chance I''d alert the "inhabitants" of my presence.


    Not that I was going to make any more noise than that damn ringing. After Elijah finally shut up, I decided to follow his first piece of advice: track down Cor 8. He mentioned something about a police station, so I looked around for any sign that said "polica," and followed that. Of course, if I had known that damn ringing sound wasing from the police station, I wouldn''t have bothered looking at any of the signs, and just followed the noise.


    Bong-bong-bong. Bong-bong-bong. Over and over and over again. I shook my head, trying desperately to ignore the awful, awful, awful noise.


    Cautiously, I made my way up another narrow flight of stairs, careful not to touch any of the red crap on the walls. The stairs weren''t particrly steep, but still... my breathing just got heavier and heavier. It wasn''t exhaustion, I knew that much - I think the Cloud was starting to get to me. I needed to get inside, away from all this crap in the air, and fast.


    When I rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, I was deposited into the entrance of a fairlyrge courtyard - and at the other end was arge four-story building adorned with a sign: "Estacin de Polica." There was a bell hanging above the sign - and there was some sort of mechanism causing it to ring automatically. Well, that exined the damn noise.


    More worrying than anything else, however, was the fact that I wasn''t alone anymore. Standing - although to be honest, it was sort of kneeling - in the middle of the courtyard was one of the "inhabitants." It was much closer than the other one I''d seen, and I was finally able to make out details I couldn''t see before. It looked like it was wearing some kind of dark brown, almost ckened full body suit,plete with a hood covering it''s head. The heavy breathing was much clearer now, and... was that gasing out of its face? There was a small cloud of bright green - almost neon - puff of smoke that appeared every time it breathed. It was kneeling down, hunched over something, and using the blunt end of the spear to poke at something in the ground.


    For the first time since hearing that awful sound, I was incredibly grateful for it. The noise was so loud, I''m pretty sure the noise muffled my approach, which is why it wasn''t attacking me... but if I was going to get into the police station, I was going to have to get around it somehow. And with five bullets from the revolver and four shots from the holorifle, I didn''t exactly have much going for me with my one real strength here - my aim.


    Bong-bong-bong. Bong-bong-bong.


    I really had to concentrate on breathing now. I looked down at the spear in my hands... and I got a horribly stupid idea. I had to get out of the cloud as quickly as I could, that much was certain. And I had to get past the "inhabitant" in front of me one way or another...


    I started slowly creeping forward, clutching my spear tight. I made a conscious effort to breathe solely through my nose, to make as little noise as possible. Not that I could really be heard over the ringing bell, or that awful heavy-breathing Doppler sound that wasing out of this thing''s mouth. If I was careful, I could probably get in a lucky shot - slice off an arm, or just go straight for the neck. If Elijah was right, that would end it straight away, and I could -


    Clunk.


    My blood froze and I nced down; there was an empty whiskey bottle that must have just blended into the ground, and was resting against the toes of my boot.


    There was a horrible pulsing noise, and the creature turned around in a sh to face me. It must''ve been wearing some kind of chemical suit because... it didn''t really have a face. There were two green glowing lenses instead of eyes, and instead of a nose or mouth there was arge rebreather with green gas spilling out of the vents.


    I grabbed hold of the back end of my spear, and thrust it forward - but by the time my spear shed through the air, the creature in front of me was gone. It made that same pulsing noise, and it must have leapt 20 feet backwards in a single motion. I was so caught off guard, I almost didn''t notice the thing bring up its own spear, and prepare to throw it at me.


    Almost.


    Fortunately, I still had sense enough to duck out of the way. Unfortunately, it wasn''t quite fast enough, and the de of his spear sliced through the air - and then sliced through the top of my shoulder. I sure I must have yelled some extremely colorful obscenities, but I couldn''t hear myself over the bell. I know for certain that I dropped my spear.


    I looked up and saw the creature still 20 feet away; it was swaying back and forth, staring at me. Its movements were erratic, and somehow unnatural - almost like it wasn''t in control of its limbs. But more important than anything else, it was now unarmed.


    Fuck it. Roll the dice.


    I shrugged my shoulder, grabbed the holorifle, and aimed down the scope on the top. I slipped into V.A.T.S., braced for an immense kickback, and when I squeezed the trigger... nothing. There was a loud clunk, and a blue shpletely filled and illuminated the scope, but there was absolutely no recoil. I looked away from the scope just in time to see arge, semi-transparent blue cube hurtling through the air, leaving a trail of smaller blue cubes in its wake, and smashing into the chest of the "inhabitant." The creature was knocked backwards, its limbs iling wildly like a ragdoll as it fell to the ground. It''s whole body was consumed in a light blue glow as it hit the ground, and I could see dozens of those same small semi-transparent blue cubes rising off its body as it copsed in a heap.


    Bong-bong-bong. Bong-bong-bong.


    I got up, breathing heavily, my eyes never leaving the now still body lying on the ground. I pumped the rifle, ejecting a spent microfusion cell, letting it tter to the ground. I bent down to pick up the discarded spear, my eyes still never leaving the body - which waspletely still - and slowly made my way towards the corpse.


    The body was still not moving when I came to a stop right above it. The green lenses of the gas mask it was wearing were still glowing, and I could still see a faint wisp of green smoke leaving the respirator. I shouldered the rifle, readied the spear, and pressed my boot into the center of its chest - just to see what would happen.


    Almost immediately, it twitched to life. The head rolled around, there was a hideous sound like someone trying to inhale with a throat full of broken ss, the chest heaved, and one of its arms reached up and started to grab at my leg. So what did I do? I shoved the spear down, right down on top of its neck, severing the head from the body. There was a spurt of a sort of yellowish green liquid, and I heard a wet gurgle of pain echoing out of the respirator. So I jammed the spear further down, and twisted, until I made sure the head waspletely severed from the body - because it started rolling away.


    I looked down at the jagged stump on the top of its torso... and was disgusted and confused. It looked like a giant mass of muscle, but it was entirely the wrong color - it was a pale, light yellow-green, and it was leaking that same yellow-green fluid. More than that, I couldn''t see any bone. I looked closer and realized there was still a small wisp of green smokinging out of the stump - not out of any holes, but out of the muscles themselves.


    Right. Let''s not take any chances. A few secondster, and the body was little more than a mutted torso and a pile of limbs.


    Bong-bong-bong. Bong-bong-beep.


    Wait, that wasn''t the bell. That was mechanical - electronic. And it was close. I looked down at my Pip Boy, and saw one of the lights beneath the screen shing. I pressed it, and the screen shed, switching to one of the status screens. It disyed a cartoonish body, with a smiling face - the face of the Vault Boy, the mascot of Vault-Tec, the people who made the Pip Boy. Most of the body was surrounded by a solid line, but I noticed there was a dotted line around the left arm.


    Wait, wasn''t that the arm that got hit with the spear? I looked again, and realized there was a warning that was shing on the screen: "Warning. Vital signs dropping. Blood toxicity levels rising. Unknown pollutant entering bloodstream. Seek medical attention immediately."


    Right. Time to get out of the Cloud and into the police station.


    I started running for the door. Before I entered, I saw something interesting scratched on the wall next to the door: "FIND GOD IN THE SIMPLEST OF BEASTS" It was the same graffiti that I''d seen earlier when I picked up the spear. I didn''t have time to think about it, because by the time it registered in my head, I''d already entered the police station, and mmed the door behind me. Almost immediately, I started breathing easier. I leaned against the door, just... breathing. An immense feeling of relief washed over me. But as soon as I took a single step forward, the relief evaporated instantly.


    Beep.


    That beep didn''te from my Pip Boy. I''m sure of it. It sounded closer to my ear, and it was a different pitch.


    Beep.


    That clinched it. The sound wasing from the bomb cor around my neck. If I had to guess, I''d say the beeping was the cor starting to arm itself because some radios were somewhere in this building. I took a single step back, and... silence. Good. At least getting close to a radio and it blowing my head off wasn''t immediate, like Elijah led me to believe. If there was a dy, that meant I had a chance to find what was trying to set off my cor and either disable or destroy it.


    I looked around the inside of the police station from my small ''safe zone'' around the front door. The inside of the police station was incredibly dark and dingy; directly in front of me was arge front desk, and behind it I could see close to a dozen smaller desks filling the space. About ten or twenty feet directly in front of me and sitting on one of the desks was an old ham radio that was still turned on. There were various other radios scattered all around the room... oh joy.


    It took me a while, but eventually I was able to find and turn off all the radios - at least, in the first part of the building. I was actually able to learn a few things about the rules of my bomb cor in that time. The cor only started beeping when I got roughly fifteen feet away from a radio that was turned on. I can''t be absolutely sure, however. That was only my best guess.


    The ''frequency'' that was apparently setting off my cor just sounded like white noise. Wonderful - killed by static. Not only that, but the longer I stayed within the frequency range of a radio, the faster and faster the beeping got. I wasn''t really willing to test how long I could stay before the cor blew my head off; I think the longest stretch of beeping I heard before I backed off was ten seconds, but if I''m honest... I wasn''t really looking at the clock.


    As soon as I was sure I had some room to breathe, I copsed in a nearby chair. I happened to nce at my shoulder, and realized that I was actually bleeding quite badly. I couldn''t really feel any pain except a dull sting; I could only think of two reasons for that, neither of them any good. Either the adrenaline hadn''t worn offpletely, and I was still riding that, or there was something in the Cloud that had gotten into the wound - which was still bleeding heavily - and had deadened the nerves.


    I pulled out the stimpack, and was about to jam it into my shoulder to close the wound... but I hesitated. Who knows when or if I''d be able to find any more stimpacks in this hellhole? I needed to conserve my resources, save it for when I was absolutely sure I needed it. Hopefully, I''d get luckyter and find more medical supplies somewhere. Until then...


    I tore at the sleeve covering my wounded arm, until the sleeve was nothing more than several strips of bloody cloth. If nothing else, I could use the scraps as a makeshift bandage to stem the bleeding until I could get something to close it properly. I winced as I tied it off around the wound - which meant I was starting to get some feeling back. Right. Good. Now that''s taken care of, I can start looking around for this "cor 8," wherever he is.


    It didn''t take long. In the far back of the police station, past the maze of desks and switched-off radios, I saw a series of prison cells - at least four one-man cells that I could see, and onerger cell built to hold multiple prisoners. Therge cell had a sign above the door: "Drunk Tank." And to my surprise, it still contained a person... although, when I say "person," I don''t suppose that''s strictly urate.


    Sitting with his back to me in the very middle of the drunk tank was a super mutant with blue skin - a Nightkin. I couldn''t see if he was doing anything except sitting there, silently muttering to himself. The one thing I did see was arge, heavy chain draped around his neck - almost like a cor.


    "Hello?" I asked, cautiously stepping towards the cell door. The Nightkin didn''t seem to pay any attention to me. Or, if he did, he didn''t give any indication. He just growled.


    "Noise makes my stomach hurt..." the super mutant muttered, barely loud enough to hear. The voice was low and deep, almost like the bark of a dog. I grabbed the lock on the cell door, and tried to see if it would open, but the door wouldn''t budge.


    "Are you the only one here?" I asked. The Nightkin turned slightly, and looked at me over his shoulder. One of his eyes was scarred over, and even though he didn''t appear to have any leather straps on his face, his mouth was still held up in a constant sneer. His left arm had... was that a bear trap?


    "Master?" The mutant asked. He shook his head, and turned away from me again. "You''re not Master..." He grumbled to himself again. "I''ll be good this time Master, just keep him away..."


    Alright, this is going nowhere. Maybe there''s another part of the police station. Maybe this super mutant isn''t the only one here, and "cor 8" is somewhere else. So, I started looking around for anything else - though my options for exploration were fairly limited. While I''m sure there was an upstairs, I couldn''t really get to it easily, as the only set of stairs I could find werepletely copsed. Well... those were the only set of stairs I could find that led <em>up.</em>


    There was another door in the police station tucked off to the side and out of the way, with a set of stairs behind the door that led down. The stairs descended into pitch darkness, so I switched my eyes to night vision. With the stairs illuminated in green, I started to make my way down. As soon as I shut the door behind me, however, I heard a sound like a speaker activating, and prepared to run... but my cor didn''t beep. Instead, I heard a voicee over the speaker system.


    "Knew you''de. Below the cage... down to where I am. Maybe you saw the letters I scratched on the Vi walls..." I didn''t recognize this voice. It was deep, but not nearly deep enough to be a super mutant. The way this person spoke... it was intelligent, methodical, and calcting. Maybe this was the voice that belonged to cor 8? I walked forward down the stairs, and the voice kept talking. "A little farther... follow my voice. That''s it." The stairs ended at arge basement; it seemed like I was in arge storage room. I kept walking, listening to the voice as I wandered around.


    "The one in the cage? Dog. I had to lock him up. He keeps... disobeying me." I rounded a corner, and came face to face with an activated RobCo terminal... and on the desk, next to the keyboard, was a holodisk. As soon as I approached it, the voice spoke up again. "That''s me, there, on the table... the disk. My voice."


    Alright, that''s odd. I picked up the holodisk, turning it around in my hands as the voice over the speakers continued to speak. "Can''t take any chances, though... you may be some victim who simply stumbled down here. If so, can''t let you let Dog out... no, not yet. If you''re who I think you are, you came to fetch Dog. Use him to drag others here. Now, I''ll use you... and that Pip Boy you''re wearing."


    I looked down at my Pip Boy, and then up, trying to find the speakers - or a camera. Was he talking about me, or...


    "You''re smart," the voice continued. "Clever. The key to Dog''s cage is simple. Take my voice to the cage above. Let me speak to the beast inside. Then, you and I... we can talk." And with that, I heard the speakers switch off. I looked back down at the holotape in my hand; I finally found the cord that would let me connect the tape to my Pip Boy. I switched past a few screens, until I found the file contained in the holotape - and hit y.


    "DOG!" The same voice from the speakers above me bellowed out of my Pip Boy''s speaker. "Back in the cage!" And then it clicked off. Was that it? I thought for a minute about what the voice on the speaker system had said.


    "Let me speak to the beast inside..." I said aloud. I looked down at the holodisk still in my hands, and the file still open on my Pip Boy. "Fuck it. Worth a shot."


    The Nightkin was in exactly the same ce when I came back upstairs. Still sitting in the middle of the cell - he was actually rocking back and forth slightly - still muttering to himself. He didn''t really notice when I came to a stop in front of the cell door.


    "Hey. You in there. You listening?" I said, tapping on the cell bars. The Nightkin just turned away and snorted.


    "Turn the noise off!" I heard him growl. So in response, I pulled up the file and hit y.


    "DOG! Back in the cage!" As soon as the voice issued from the speakers, the Nightkin stopped rocking. Slowly and methodically, he turned around to look at me... and then he got up. When he turned to face me, I stepped back almost without thinking. Now that he was in the light properly, I could see that almost every inch of his body was covered in scars. The most prominent scars, however, were a set ofrge scars emzoned on the center of his chest - spelling out the word "DOG." There were a few white bandages here and there, including two small bandages on his forehead, forming a cross, but there weren''t nearly enough to cover up all the scars. The Nightkin stepped towards me, each step thudding and reverberating against the floor, until he was staring at me through the bars.


    "What have we here?" The Nightkin spoke, but it wasn''t the same low and deep voice as before - but instead, it was the same voice I heard in the basement. "You weren''t who I was expecting. I''m... disappointed."


    "You''re not the only one," I said. The Nightkin let out a guttural grumble, and shook his head.


    "Still... even if you aren''t my intended guest, you take direction. Good. You can''t have been an idiot to figure out how to release me from my cage..." The Nightkin cocked his head, and I followed his gaze - he was staring at my Pip Boy first, and then at the bomb cor around my neck. "... or perhaps you are, with that leash on your arm and the one around your neck... with our cors and manacles, why... we may as well be kin."


    "What happened to your voice?" I asked. I had a theory, but...


    "I''m the voice of reason," The Nightkin grabbed the bars, and stared down at me. Without thinking, I backed up slightly. "I sleep sometimes... down in the basement, in the cage. Now that I''m awake, Dog goes back in the cage. Dog knows I''m here, but can''t do anything about it. I''m his... conscience. Keep him tame. Keep him from hurting us... doing foolish things. I''ve been trapped in here for some time. Then youe along and let me out. So... you must have opened my cage for a reason." He let go of the bars and stepped back, looking me up and down through the bars. "I want to know why."


    "Wait, you''re a split personality?" I was thinking out loud, ignoring the Nightkin''s question for the moment. "I''ve seen this before - other Nightkin who''ve used stealth boys so much and so often that it affects their minds..." The Nightkin grabbed the bars with a metal ng, and I heard him growl at me. I backed up again, but I looked close: the super mutant was really straining, but the bars weren''t budging. They weren''t even bending. What the fuck is that cage <em>made</em> out of?


    "That''s the easy exnation. The one <em>humans</em> use." The Nightkin practically spat the word ''human'' out, like it didn''t taste right on his tongue. He shook his head, let go of the bars, and started to pace around back and forth in the cell. "Pre-War technology... as if it''s the cause of all ills, mind and body." He pounded at his chest. "I <em>needed</em> toe out of the cage to protect Dog. From clever <em>humans</em>... like <strong>you</strong>." The Nightkin shook his head again. "Do you see these wounds of his, covering his skin... the bear trap on his arm?" He held up his arm, and I nodded, letting him continue. "He ced <em>his own hand</em> in it. The name he carved on his chest? To remind him... of who he is." He stepped forward again, snarling at me. "He inflicts pain on himself to silence me, when all I try to... Hrr!" He looked away, and clutched at his head. The Nightkin breathed in and out heavily for a few seconds, and shook his head. "... he cuts, hurts, and tries to <em>murder</em> me out of him. He won''t seed. Just makes me angrier. Dog is the beast. We simply... <em>change cages</em>." He looked around before finallying to a rest to stare at me. "Like the one here."


    "So, why <em>did</em> you lock yourself in this cage, then?" I asked. He just snorted - it was almost like augh, but not really.


    "No. Why did I lock <em>him</em> in the cage." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but honestly... I was still kind of confused.


    "Yeah... I don''t follow."


    "Don''t y stupid," the Nightkin growled at me. "I already have to mind one child. I locked Dog in this cage because I could feel him... getting hungry again. There wasn''t much time. If Dog roams, he gets into trouble... eats things he shouldn''t, listens to others he shouldn''t... so he''s safer in here... <em>We''re</em> safer in here. I''d hoped that if I locked him in here... the one he obeys woulde to fetch him." The Nightkin shook his head again. "Instead, I get <em>you</em>."


    "So... if you locked him... you... in, what would happen if you couldn''t get out?" Intellectually, I suppose I could wrap my head around the idea someone with multiple personality disorder... but for some reason, I was still having some trouble with putting the concept into practice.


    "Oh, I have the key." The super mutant said inly. "Always did. Hid it on the chain behind our neck before Dog came bursting out, eating everything he could. Wanted to make sure whoever came to fetch Dog spoke to me first..." He started to step towards me, and he slowly tried to slide his arms through the bars; he only got about halfway through before the gap became too narrow for his forearm to fit through. "... got within reach."


    "So, you... or Dog... doesn''t know the key is on him?" My eyes never left the mutant''s hand. I made sure to keep well out of reach. Guess it was a good thing I stepped back.


    "Dog and I don''t share everything. What I know, he doesn''t. What he knows... what little he knows... I don''t. For example: your arrival here is a surprise. I wished that I could have remembered, but I''m sure that Dog knew. And when he''s feeding, well... I sometimes have to find out about itter. Now, all there is to do is wait for my intended guest."


    "Elijah..." I breathed. I had no idea if he heard me or not. "You asked me what I was doing here. I''m looking for someone with a cor like mine. Not because I want to. But because if I don''t..." I tapped the side of my cor, and made a mock-explosion with my hand. "I think you''re who I''m looking for. Where''s your cor?"


    "It''s close," the Nightkin backed away from the cell door. "Closer than I like. Dog''s been into things. Needs to think before he eats, chew before he swallows. He''s... eager that way. Now the cor''s a part of me. Inside."


    "Wait, you... or, he... <em>ate</em> it?" The super mutant nodded grimly.


    "I can feel it''s electronic heartbeat, clicking and burning down below... like before. It was cold and heavy before going in the cage... now you''re here, and it''s pulling and kicking again, tugging like a leash... Interesting..." Well. I guess that means he really <em>is</em> ''Cor 8.''


    "I''ve got to get you out of here," I said, inly as I could. I didn''t think just asking him would work... but it was a start, at least. The super mutant just startedughing grimly - it was a deep, horribleugh, and it made me very ufortable.


    "No... no, I don''t think so. Even in here, I have more control than you do. I''m not leaving here until the one who controls the cors shows himself." He leaned forward, and gripped the cell bars to stare at me. "Not his voice. Not his hand. Not hisckey. <em>Him</em>. And when hees to see me..." He let go of the bars, and smashed a fist into his palm with a wet thud. "... we''ll settle things. So go on, go back to your master." He waved we off with his hand, like he was shoo-ing away an annoying pest, not worth his attentions. "Tell him <em>I''m</em> waiting for him. Dog may follow him. But <strong>I</strong> won''t."


    "Look," I swallowed, trying to choose my next words carefully. "If you don''te with me, he''ll set off our cors - yours and mine. An explosion designed to blow your head off will still kill you if it goes off in your gut."


    "Then I still win." He said, determination in his voice. "I''d rather die in this cell than have Dog follow him for any longer... follow his orders, hismands, desperate for recognition. The Old Man... he has the need to hold on, to the past... to the Madre... I''d rather be free, let go of this shell, than have it cage me any longer."


    "I want my freedom, too. Do you think I like having this cor on me?" With any luck, appealing to him using the truth might just work. Who knows? "I don''t want to be here, stuck in this fucking hellhole, where even the <em>air </em>is trying to kill me." The Nightkin pressed his face closer to the bars.


    "They all wanted their freedom at first. Then... they realized they could get inside the Sierra Madre. After that... after that, their freedom wasn''t important any more. They couldn''t let go, just like the Old Man can''t let go. So you say you want your freedom... No... even if you feel that way now? It won''tst. You''ll forget. Get greed-blind. And then you''ll turn... just like all the rest." Alright, the truth wasn''t working. I had to think of some other way of getting him to work with me. Because if I didn''t...


    "You know, it sounds like Dog might be more willing to get out of this cage than you." For the first time, I heard the Nightkinugh - and I mean reallyugh. Not a grim chuckle, but a deep, throaty, bellowing, boomingugh that shook the floor.


    "Dog? He might... but you''re not talking to him now, are you? No... even if you could drag Dog out of his cage -" He pointed at his head. "- you still couldn''t get him out of <em>this</em> cage." He tapped the bars with an oversized finger. "I put him in here for a reason. If he could have escaped... he would have. So here he stays."


    "But the key is already in there with you - and Dog."


    "True... but Dog doesn''t know that. We don''t share everything, remember. Sometimes, it''s a blessing... sometimes... it causes difficulties. Now? I think it''s a blessing. It keeps you on that side of the cage. Now... go fetch. Find your master. Bring him here, so we can <em>talk</em>." This was getting frustrating - mostly because he didn''t seem to get what I was implying.


    "I could just tell Dog he has the key."


    "Yes... you could. And once he was out, all starving and <em>hungry</em>... what then? What do you think he would do?" He continued to stare at me, never blinking and gripping the bars of the cell tight. "Be careful what cage you open, because he won''t go back in it without a fight. He''ll tear you apart, he won''t care if it kills you both."


    "But it''s like you said... Dog obeys. He obeys Elijah - the Old Man. And he can order Dog to open the cage. He can order him not to eat me." The super mutant narrowed his eyes and continued to stare at me.


    "Yes... Dog... obeys. Why? Do you have some means of contacting the Old Man?" To answer his question, I held up my Pip Boy, and pointed on the screen - to the file right below the one I''d picked up in the basement. The file that continued an audio message of Elijah''s instructions.


    "I can y his voice. He gave me an audio log, and I can y it from my Pip Boy whenever I want." For the first time since talking to him, the Nightkin looked genuinely worried - not scared, but worried.


    "You - don''t y it!" He practically yelled, backing away from the bars. Heposed himself and snarled. "If you do, I''ll find a way to get out of the cage, end you! I''ll murder you, crush your arms and legs until-"


    "Calm down!" I shouted, lowering the arm with my Pip Boy. Amazingly, he shut up, so I continued. "Look, I want to get the fuck out of here, and I know you do to. So here''s the deal. If you follow me - willingly - then I won''t y the audio log."


    "No, you wouldn''t." He snarled back at me. "If you did, then you wouldn''t escape this ce alive. I''d shatter every one of your limbs to splinters and leave you here. You think I''m afraid of your cor exploding, killing us? No... I''ll leave you breathing. Then I''ll keep walking until my cor goes cold. I''ll prop your broken body in view of the Sierra Madre - so you can see exactly what you came to steal. Forever out of reach... as you <em>die</em>." I just shook my head.


    "I guess I can''t convince you that I''m not here for the Sierra Madre, and I''m not here because I want to work for Elijah. So I''m going to prove it to you." The police station was silent for the longest time since I''d turned the radios off. The Nightkin cocked his head, staring back at me.


    "Prove it? How? Words are worthless." I tapped the side of my Pip Boy.


    "I have the power to let Dog out of his cage. I''m going to prove it to you... by not doing it." He looked me up and down, like he did when he first saw me.


    "Hnh... Even though Dog''s more docile. Easier to control..." He stepped forward, right up to the cell door, and looked down at me from his considerable height. "You may regret this. This ce... this ce is where creatures like Dog can survive. The... <em>people</em> that fill its streets.. He is as vicious - <em>more</em> vicious - than them. His hunger can help you more than I can. When I am in control..." He looked down at his massive hands. "When I''m in control, this shell is difficult to... fight in." He balled his hands into fists.


    "Even if Dog is more helpful, we can manage. I prefer to talk to and work with people - not order them around." The Nightkin chuckled softly and shook his head.


    "I am not sure you belong here... No... No, you certainly don''t belong here."


    "d we can agree on that point, at least," I said, allowing myself a smirk.


    "You came this far. And I''m not interested in remaining here any longer." He reached behind his neck, and pulled a key - which lookedically small between his massive thumb and forefinger - out from wherever he''d hidden it. He reached through the bars, and with a dexterity I didn''t expect from a hand that massive, unlocked the door.


    "Maybe we can work together after all." I said, holding out a hand. "Partners?" I didn''t quite know what I was expecting, but the Nightkin just stared at my hand.


    "No. Not partners. But we can work together... just so long as I get a shot at the Old Man."


    "Get in line," I said with a smirk. "Alright, there are two other people I need to find - there''s a fountain in the center of the Vi. We can use that as a rally point, and when I''ve gathered everyone else, we can n our next move."


    "Very well," the Nightkin walked past me, each footstep rattling the floor. "To the fountain and its Ghost then..."


    "Before you leave - what''s your name?" The super mutant turned and looked at me with a raised brow. "I know the other voice is called Dog. But what do I call you?" He paused, and looked like he was really deep in thought. I don''t think anyone had ever asked him before.


    "I guess you could say I''m the mirror image of Dog... If you must call me something, I suppose that you should call me God."


    "Right, no ego there then." I said with a smirk.


    "HAH!"

 Chapter 44: The Mute

    Chapter 44: The Mute


    "Well?" God asked, one massive hand on the door leading outside. "Are youing?"


    "Uh... yeah. You go on ahead. I wanted to poke around a bit more, see if there''s anything here we can use. Supplies and the like, you know?" God just scoffed, and shook his head.


    "<em>Humans</em>..." he muttered, just loud enough to hear. "Fine, suit yourself. But don''t take too long, human." With that he left, mming the door of the police station shut behind him.


    Right. Time to look around. This was a police station, which means there''s probably some supplies around - weapons, ammunition, maybe even some of that ''contraband'' Elijah mentioned. Hell, if I was really lucky, I might be able to find some medical supplies.


    I rubbed the makeshift bandage on my left shoulder. I could still move my arm, which was always a good sign, but it was really starting to hurt now... and when I pulled my hand away, I could see my palm waspletely covered in blood. I didn''t really know if that was just from the blood the cloth had soaked up, or if the wound on my shoulder was still bleeding. Fuck. Whatever. I''ll figure it outter.


    The first thing I decided to do was check upstairs. Just because the staircase was mostly copsed didn''t mean it waspletely inessible. All it took was some clever rearranging of a few metal boxes, along with dragging a filing cab over to the stairwell, and I was up there in no time.


    Beep.


    Fuck. More radios. I had to be quick. I looked around the corner, and saw another maze of desks, and about six or seven radios in various ces all around the second floor. The beeping around my neck got faster, so I backed off - back to the stairwell - and let out a sigh of relief when the beeping finally stopped.


    It took me close to five minutes of back-and-forth, running to a radio, switching it off, and running away before it exploded, until finally every radio was turned off and I was left in silence. Glorious, magnificent silence.


    There was something odd, though... the amount of dust all around meant nobody had been up here for at least several decades. Maybe more. So who''d switched the radios on? Not only that, but I looked at the cement of most of these radios; I''d been standing under most of them during my chat with God. I had definitely been in range when I was downstairs (the floors weren''t that tall), and yet, somehow, they hadn''t set my cor off. Maybe there was something in the floor blocking the signal...


    Stop getting distracted, Sheason. You still have a job to do. You need to look around for supplies.


    There were two ces up here that looked promising: one room off to the side, locked behind a dusty RobCo terminal, and another far in the back that looked like a riot room or a locker room of some kind. I decided to check theputer terminal first; if the door was locked, chances are there''s a good bet that something good - or valuable, at the very least - was behind said door.


    It took me a few minutes to crack the security on the terminal... jackpot. This was the "contraband" room. I unlocked the door using the terminal, and then started scrolling through the entries still on thework. There was onebeled "dispenser report" that caught my eye:


    <em>Dispensers are up and running. Unlike most everything else, we''ve had few problems with them. I heard they''d been part of some World''s Fair exhibit Sinir had seen, so he contacted the researchers about the dispensers to see if he could use them here.</em>


    <em>Turns out, the dispensers do more than supply convenience items: if there''s an emergency or the threat ofmunist attack, codes can unlock ammo and repair kits for the dispensers. Stored back-ups of the codes in the contraband room. Just in case.</em>


    Dispensers... I''d have to look around, see if I could find what this entry was talking about. Whatever these dispensers were, they sounded useful. And I''d need all the help I could get here.


    The door to the contraband room opened with a hiss, and I started looking around. Most of it was junk. Dirty magazines and liquor, that sort of thing... but the further back I got, the more useful stuff I found. Some brass knuckles, some chems like Med-X, Buffout, a few super stimpacks... there were even four frag grenades, and some ammo - a couple of boxes of .30-06 springfield rifle rounds. What really surprised me was the gun I found: an M1918 Browning Automatic Rifle. At least, that''s what the engraving on the side of the rifle above the trigger said it was.


    I grabbed everything useful I could carry, used the stimpack I was saving on my wounded arm, and I was just about to leave to check the other room when I saw a glint out of the corner of my eye. I followed the source and found two holotapes: they had pieces of duct tape on the side that had been written on, indicating one was a vending machine code for "steady," a kind of chem that would supposedly help your aim, and another was a vending machine code for .38 special rounds. I downloaded the code for the ammo into my Pip Boy - that revolver was definitely going to need more, eventually - and left the steady code where it was. As desperate as I was for help here, using something that addicting was <em>definitely</em> something I could do without.


    I guess now, all I had to do was find one of those vending machines.


    Before I left the police station, I checked the locker room in the back. Honestly, there wasn''t all that much in here. But there was enough. I found some armor: a Ker k jacket with ceramic tes inside to protect the front and rear, and "SECURITY" stenciled in yellow across the back. I also found a couple of underarm holsters in one of the lockers. That was definitely good news: it meant I didn''t have to keep that revolver tucked in the back of my pants anymore.


    Right. Enough stalling... C''mon Sheason, you need to get back outside... into the air that will slowly kill you. Staying in here isn''t going to get you out of this hellhole.


    A few minutester, I was outside. Warily, I shut the door behind me... and froze. Ahead of me, I saw the pieces of the vi inhabitant I''d killed earlier still lying on the ground - and about 30 or 40 yards distant was another one of the vi inhabitants. This one was wearing the same kind of chemical suit, except it had no hood. I could see now that the mask covered the entire head, not just the face. It was like some kind of strange metal skull...bined with the pall of green smoke leaking out of its face, and the glowing green lenses instead of eyes. I admit that I was more than a little creeped out.


    I ducked behind a nearby pir, and got out of sight as quickly as I could. I heard that same rasping-pulsing noise as before, and... a metal clunk. Cautiously, I peered around the pir to see if I could get a better view from behind cover.


    The way the creature was moving - the glowing green lenses on its face darting back and forth, carefully scanning the courtyard as it slowly and deliberately moved from darkened corner to darkened corner - I could tell that it was searching for something. Or <em>someone</em>. Probably me.


    That was when I realized it wasn''t carrying a spear like the one before - instead, it looked like it had a bear trap on its hand. I don''t mean the trap was closed shut on its arm, like the bear trap on Dog''s ... or God''s... arm; it looked like it had been modified into a weapon that closed when the user punched someone. Like a power fist, but with a bear trap instead of a hydraulic piston.


    "What the fuck?" I breathed involuntarily. Immediately, I pressed my back against the pir and covered my mouth, hoping against hope that I hadn''t been loud enough to hear. I reached behind me for the spear and - MOTHERFUCKER! I must have been so busy looting the police station that I lost the only thing I had that could reliably chop off limbs.


    Right. Okay. This doesn''t necessarily have to turn into a terrible situation. I''d snuck out easily enough without the thing out there noticing me, I''d just need to sneak back into the police station and -


    Right as I reached for the door, I saw a blur of rusted metal fly past my eyes. A fist mmed into the door inches from my face, and the bear trap smashed into the cloud-stained door with a metal nk and a shower of sparks. A mask with two glowing green lenses and an air filter pumping out a cloud of green smoke just seemed to appear in front of me out of nowhere.


    I staggered backwards and gripped at the nearby wall to try and keep my bnce; it didn''t really work, as my hands just slipped against the cloud slime, and I couldn''t find grip. Instinct took over. I nted my back foot, and pulled the revolver out of the underarm holster, slipped into V.A.T.S., and emptied five shots point nk directly into the creature''s face.


    It wasn''t even phased. The left lens exploded in a shower of ss and green smoke. The other four bullets just seemed to pass straight through the gas mask; white fluid started to leak out of the bullet holes in its face. I backed up but it kept slowly advancing on me, the bear trap on its fist resetting with a heavy metal clunk.


    It made that same awful pulsing-rasping sound - gurgling slightly - and in a sh its bear-trap-fist wasing straight for me. I tried to back up, dodge out of the way, but it didn''t break stride and mmed the bear trap into the middle of my chest. I''m just d I was wearing that armor - the bear trap''s metal teeth mped down on the Ker with the force of a hammer, and I got the wind knocked out of me, but thankfully the metal teeth didn''t go all the way through. Another hit like that, though...


    The bear trap waspletelytched onto my chest armor, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I grabbed its arm with both hands, like I was holding a vice... and then I twisted the vice. There was a loud, wet crunch, and I was sure by the way its arm was twisted that I''d broken it in at least two ces. It howled through the filter on its gas mask, and its free hand reached up, grabbing me by the shoulder. It had a grip almost as strong as the bear trap, and it pulled at me so hard, I thought my arm was going to be wrenched out of its socket.


    I twisted my right arm around, and smashed it in the face several times with my now empty pistol. When it didn''t let go, I grabbed the back of its head, and swung us both around... With any luck, that pir I had been hiding behind was still where I''d left it.


    The creature was smashed face-first into the pir. It let out a barely audible groan, and I could see the pir was cracked beneath its face, and was stained with that white-yellow fluid leaking out of the bullet holes. I wrenched the bear trap off my chest, and its broken arm fell down limp at its side... but the rest of the creature didn''t go limp. It kept trying to move, get back up...


    "FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING... FUCK!" I shouted, practically frothing at the mouth as I grabbed it by the back of its head and started smashing it into the pir again and again and again. "WHY! THE! FUCK! WON''T! YOU! FUCKING! DIE! ALREADY!" I pulled the Browning Automatic Rifle I''d grabbed from the contraband room off my back, and smashed the wooden stock of it against the back of its neck as hard as I could. I didn''t have anything I could use to cut its head off, but maybe if I applied enough blunt force trauma...


    Its head was practically concave now, and waspletely twisted at an odd angle: it was upright, pressed against the pir, while it''s body was leaning limply at an obtuse angle. Eventually, it slid down, leaving a trail of that unnaturally white blood as its face scraped along the side of the pir. I was already breathing heavily, and I stood over it for a minute or so before I finally started to move on... but not before giving it a decent kick in the side for good measure.


    I was halfway across the small courtyard in front of the police station when I heard a noise from behind me that even the constantly ringing bell couldn''t drown out. A loud, wheezing, pulsing gasp. I turned around, the automatic rifle still in hand, and watched as the broken form of the vi inhabitant - its head still twisted at an odd angle and its face still concave, but the arm with the bear trap fist somehow no longer twisted like it was broken - clutch at the wall and slowly start to pick itself up.


    I didn''t even have any words. I just hefted the automatic rifle up, took aim, and fired.


    "Ah... there''s your signal... Faint, but there..." I heard Elijah say over my Pip Boy''s speaker. I was walking around the vi, trying to figure out my next move. Thankfully, I didn''t run into any more of those undead inhabitants... but I was starting to think I was lost. The streets were so twisted, and the map making utility on my Pip Boy just looked like a random mass of lines, picking up every facet and crevice... even the maps of caves weren''t this confusing.


    "Lost sight of me, did ya?" I said, checking around a nearby corner.


    "That same interference that cut me off from the FEV reject must have created arger dark zone than I... yes... yes..." It almost sounded like he was muttering to himself. He cleared his throat. "I take it you found the animal?"


    "Yeah, and as far as I know, he''s back by the fountain. Now, since you seem to know, maybe you can tell me: where the fuck am I, and where should I go next?"


    "Hmm..." Elijah coughed, and I involuntarily let out one of my own. The cloud must be getting to me again. I need to find some shelter soon. "It looks like you''re close to the Medical District. Cor 12. I think she''s... the cor is somewhere in the Clinic."


    "This another super mutant, or what?" I asked, carefully making my way down the street. A sh of light caught my eye - but it wasn''t reddish-orange, like all the other lights seemed to be in the Vi. This light was a sort of bright blue-green, a sort of glowing turquoise. Needless to say, it stood out.


    "No, no... the FEV reject is unique... and obedient, cor or no. Though, the cor helps..." Okay, <strong>that</strong> I knew for a fact wasn''t true. It suddenly struck me that Elijah''s perception of the Dog/God super mutant didn''t seemplete... maybe he''d only ever dealt with the muttering brute, and not the other voice? Did he even know about Nightkin, and how they were different from regr super mutants? I mean, I hadn''t known the difference before going to Jacobstown, so it seemed usible enough...


    "So, who is it then?" I asked. For a solid minute, Elijah didn''t say anything. I just heard him breathing in and out over the speaker.


    "I don''t know. You''ll have to see what the traps caught." Again, it seemed to me that he wasn''t telling the truth. Not the whole truth, at least. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that same turquoise light again, and decided to follow it. Eventually, I came upon an odd looking machine. It was a rectangr box, decorated in a sort of pseudo art-deco style with a circr dish on the top that seemed to be emitting that turquoise light. There was a small tray at the bottom of the dish, seemingly to connect it to the rest of the machine. Underneath and to the side of the tray was a small slot, with a symbol of the Sierra Madre next to it.


    Unlike the rest of the Vi, the outer metal shell of the machine lookedpletely untouched and unmarred... and as I got closer, tiny lines of holographic light began to appear on the tray... it almost looked like a list or a menu, and a three-dimensional wireframe creating... something. Whatever this thing was, it managed to look like it didn''t belong and somehow perfectly blend in at the same time.


    "Hey, you can see me, right?" I asked, looking around to see if I could see a CCTV camera anywhere. Elijah coughed.


    "Yes, yes. Why? What else do you want?"


    "What am I standing in front of?"


    "Hold on..." There was a pause, followed by a metal tter, like something dropping on the ground. "Damnit, get back here..." There was the sound of more distant and muffled shuffling over the radio, until finally Elijah came back. "Now, where were - oh, yes. Yes. The Vending Machines. They''re assembly stations. Schematics are stored within... dispensers with unlock codes... They use the casino chips scattered around as batteries... alloys and raw material embedded in the shell... some hybrid form of fission and fusion... the cusp of unimaginable prosperity..."


    As his words trailed off into iprehensible mumblings, I took out one of the chips, and turned the small metal octagon over in my hands, examining it. If what he was saying was true... that this small chip could be used to <em>make</em> something useful with the aid of one of these machines... I guess it''s a good thing I kept hold of these chips. Now, I just needed to find more.


    "They resemble the vending machines of the Mojave," Elijah spoke up, no longer muttering to himself. "...but they are, in fact, crafting devices of tremendous versatility. Once, an Old World convenience, now... now they are a means of survival." His words seemed to echo my own thoughts. "Use the chips to power them. Use them <em>correctly</em>, and they will help you to survive the horrors you still have yet to face."


    When Elijah said I was ''close'' to the Clinic and Cor 12, I mistakenly assumed that I might have an easier time of it than getting to the police station.


    The first real obstacle came in the form of one of the Vi''s speakers. This was almost like the radios in the Police Station... except that I couldn''t shut these off. On the plus side, at least the box the speaker was connected to had a light, which gave away its position. Unfortunately, I could already tell that whoever built this ce wanted to hide the speakers in discrete, out of the way locations.


    The first speaker, for instance, was located directly above the door to the Medical District - and didn''t start to set my cor off until <em>after</em> I''d already walked across the threshold. At least I knew the signals could be blocked, but by <em>what</em> seemed way too inconsistent... or maybe there were rules about the frequency that I just didn''t know. Either way...


    I ended up destroying it with a well ced shot from the revolver. It might not be any good against the Vi inhabitants, but hey, at least it was good for something, right? The noise from the revolver, however, brought on the second obstacle: <em>more</em> of the Vi inhabitants.


    Their approach was hardly discrete, which gave me time to hide properly - and this time, I was determined to keep my stinking mouth shut. There were two of them, with hoods like the first one I''d fought. One of them carried a spear in its hand, and several more on its back; the other also had several spears on its back, but I could see something else in its hand. It almost looked like a giant fire extinguisher... or maybe a giant gas bottle. Whatever it was, I could see a small sensor module and a series of wires on the end of it. No points for guessing what that was.


    I remained as still and silent as I could behind the pir as the two creatures shuffled along, their green lenses scanning the area. Their breathing - at least, that''s what I was assuming was causing that awful noise - was so perfectly synced with one another that it almost sounded like a single creature.


    As slowly as I could, I reached behind me, and pulled one of the frag grenades off my belt. The creatures continued to scan the area. I moved carefully as I could, acutely aware of every tiny sound I made - the brushing of fabric against Ker, my breathing, the sound of a fleshy finger brushing against metal - but if I made any sounds, they seemed oblivious...


    Until I pulled the pin on the grenade. That unmistakable metal ''clink'' made the two of them snap their attention directly toward me. Disregarding stealth, I lobbed the grenade at the creatures; as it flew toward them, their breathing finally de-synced, and a horrible Doppler-wheeze filled the air. The lenses on their masks followed the grenade perfectly as it arced through the air, andnded at their feet.


    There was a loud bang - louder than a frag grenade could''ve created - and there was a massive cloud of brown-red dust kicked up, along with a billowing cloud of fire, consuming the spot where the two inhabitants had stood. My ears started ringing badly after the st. I think the giant gas bottle the one had been carrying must have been set off, because when the smoke cleared, I didn''t see anything except stters of yellowish-white blood, andrge irregr chunks of white meat slowly letting off small clouds of bright green gas.


    I needed to make myself scarce, and fast. If a single gunshot breaking a speaker was enough to draw two of these things out of the woodwork, who know how many would be drawn to the sounds of a giant explosion. I still had no idea how these things hunted - I had a sneaking suspicion it was by sound and not sight, but I wasn''t really looking forward to testing that theory.


    A few minutes of alternating between running and sneaking through the shadowster, I found myself in a much smaller courtyard than the one in front of the police station. I saw a sign lit up over a door - a red cross, and the words "clnica" written in white block letters. Off in the distance, I could hear the faint sounds of the inhabitants getting closer. The sounds seemed to echo off the walls, so I couldn''t quite tell where they were. Better not take any chances.


    I shut the door of the clinic behind me, and I immediately started breathing easier. As I leaned against the door, grateful I wasn''t being slowly strangled by the Cloud, my Pip Boy''s speaker crackled to life... but not all the way. I could tell Elijah was speaking, but the transmission was broken up by bursts of static.


    "..r 21? Ca...ou hea...ur signal is fa...king up...picking up an emit...nature - wat...sec...rams, danger...n''t shoot them - attacking...useless."


    There was a final crackle of static, and the speaker went silent.


    "Well," I said aloud. "That wasn''t ominous or anything."


    I found myself in the waiting room of the clinic; there was a counter with a terminal right in front of me, about half a dozen chairs, and two doors leading deeper into the clinic on either side of the counter. There was a stimpack and a holotape on the counter... jackpot! This was a holotape that contained a schematic for making more stimpacks from the vending machines! That was going to be <em>very</em> usefulter on.


    Off in the corner, I saw another glowing handprint painted on the wall... and another suitcase, just like before. I approached it and was about to open it up to check what was inside... when I heard a noise from above me, and I froze. I tilted my ear towards the ceiling... and listened. It almost sounded like footsteps, but... there was something off about it. I couldn''t quite ce it...


    Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Silence for a few seconds... and then it started up again.


    Through the doorway to my left was a set of stairs, so I decided to sneak up and find out what was making the noise. It didn''t sound like one of the vi inhabitants; they never seemed to stop. This did, for whatever reason.


    There was another door at the top of the stairs, so I rounded the corner and peered through the doorway. There was a long hallway beyond the door, and walking the length of it was another figure like the holographic woman standing on top of the fountain. This one was blue like she was, but it looked like a man - wearing the same kind of armor that I was.


    This must be one of the security holograms Elijah mentioned... and as I watched it walk along the hallway, I could finally tell why the sound was so odd. Every time it took a step, there was an echoing reverb to the footsteps, like the sound you''d get when you hit an empty propane tank with a hammer.


    Abruptly, it came to a halt... and stared at me. At the same time, there was a sound like air being sucked into a vacuum, and the hologram''s color shifted from blue to yellow. Okay, that''s not good. It raised its holographic hands to its face, made the same noise as before... and the hologram shifted once again from yellow to red.


    Suddenly, a sh of red lightnced through the air, splintering part of the doorframe I was hiding behind. Son of a bitch! It was shootingsers now! Instinctively, I ducked as quickly as I could away from the door and back down the stairs; three or four moresers cut through the air behind me.


    I waited for a few minutes at the base of the stairs. It wasn''t following me down... maybe the range of whatever emitter was projecting it was limited to the top floor? I started searching around, looking for something - anything. That terminal might be a good ce to start...


    Amazingly, it wasn''t locked. A quick search through it, and I found the hologram protocols... let''s see now... ording to this, the hologram was currently set to patrol the second floor. There was an option to patrol the first floor, and it looked like the patrols were mutually exclusive. That meant there must be one of those hologram emitters down here somewhere... and that gave me an idea.


    I looked up from the terminal, and into the nearby hallway - about halfway to the end of the hall was a small blue disk mounted on the wall. When I got a close look at it, I realized it looked almost exactly like the emitter on the end of the holorifle... and on the side of the casing was a smalltch. I popped it open, grabbed two of the wires, and pulled them loose.


    Thud. Thud. Thud. The hologram must have been right above me now. I rushed back to the terminal, and set the hologram''s program to "Patrol first floor." There was a electric flicker down the hallway; the emitter seemed to explode in a shower of bright sparks and then it wentpletely dark. I listened carefully, and couldn''t hear any more footsteps anywhere... but there was another sounding from deeper inside the clinic. It wasn''t footsteps...


    Well, now that I didn''t have holograms in here to worry about, I had plenty of time to look around. Maybe I could find that cor. The best bet was probably to follow the noise - it was like someone (or something) rapidly striking against something metal. The first floor hallway had a bend, and -


    Beep.


    Fuck. There was another radio or a speaker somewhere... My cor beeped again, and I looked down the end of the bend in the hall - there! At the far end of the hall, I could see another one of those speakers, like the one I shot when I first came into the medical district. My cor started beeping faster, so I pulled the pistol out of its holster, took aim and fired.


    Beep. Beep. Beep. Nothing. This speaker didn''t blow up like the other one. I started to feel beads of sweat on my forehead. I kept firing, emptying thest three shots in the revolver into the speaker, but the light didn''t go out... the red light... shit. This must be one of the shielded speakers - the other one I shot had a white light. I ran back into the lobby as quick as I could, and let out a sigh of relief when my cor finally stopped beeping.


    This day was just getting worse. Alright, c''mon Sheason. Think. Think. There''s got to be something you can do...


    And then it hit me. That speaker had to be powered by something. Cut the power, turn off the speaker. I just had to find what was powering it... I cycled through my eyes, past the night vision, past the thermal vision, and settled on what Veronica had called the "EM" (or electromaic) vision. The world turned ck, and I could see pinpoints of white light all around me. There was a strong white line on the ceiling... That looked like it could be the cables that were powering the speaker. So I decided to follow it...


    When I switched my eyes back to normal, I found myself in a dark and dingy basement. At the far end of the room was a generator, softly humming and obviously still powered up. It didn''t take long to figure out how to turn it off. I searched the room... didn''t find much. There were a few microfusion cells - which seemed uncharacteristically lucky, given what else had happened - but that was about it.


    Right. Time to find out what was making that noise.


    There were a few emergency lights in the hallways, but it was pretty dark now. And all I could hear was that pounding. It almost sounded like a rhythmic sort of noise... wait, no, that wasn''t it. It was frantic. It sounded like someone pounding on a metal door... I looked into the rooms along the hallway - in each room, I sawrge cylinders, with the same symbol on each of the doors: a staff, with two snakes intertwined around it, and a pair of wings at the top of the staff. A caduceus?


    These must be some kind of Auto-Docs, but... I''d never seen any Auto Docs like these before. The ones at Usanagi''s clinic east of Vegas that fixed me up after I got beaten half to death at The Fort were just metal boxes with half a dozen articted metal armsing off of it.


    I rounded a corner, and saw thest room in the hallway - the sound was definitelying from inside. There was another Auto-Doc in the center of the room, and I could definitely hear someone <em>inside</em> banging against the door.


    "Hang on in there," I said, checking the terminal next to the big metal cylinder. "I''m gonna get you out of there, hold on." I cycled through the options as quickly as I could, until I found the door release. There was a hiss of escaping gas; the door must have been hermetically sealed. Fingers reached through the door as it started to slowly slide open... and then a girl practically fell out of the Auto Doc.


    She was a little bit shorter than me, and wearing a pair of brown pants and a white bloodstained tank top. Just like me, she had a bomb cor around her neck, and that meant she was probably the person I was looking for.


    However, her head... she waspletely bald. And covered in scars. There was arge scar ringing the top of her head, and another one bisecting her skull- it almost looked like if you were to grab her head just right, her skull would simply pry apart. Not only that, but there was a pair of scars at the edge of her mouth, trailing down. It made her look like she was constantly frowning. Finally... there was onerge scar on her neck, just barely visible beneath the bomb cor. Most of the scars looked fairly old, but that one... that was fresh. And still red.


    The woman clutched at the Auto Doc door - she looked disoriented. She blinked a few times, and winced; it was almost like blinking caused her pain... and then she started to lose her bnce.


    "Whoa! Hey!" I rushed forward and caught her, keeping her from falling. "Are you alright?" She pushed me away, and staggered back to her feet. She looked right at me, blinked again, and opened her mouth... but nothing came out. She clutched at her throat right below the bomb cor, and her eyes went wide as her fingers traced the scar.


    "Look, I don''t know what''s happened, but... I''m here to help. Can you speak?" She just kept clutching at her neck... and then she looked over to the Auto-Doc. She recoiled backward; her mouth was wide open, but no sound came out. She looked back at me, then to the Auto Doc... and then she looked at me, narrowing her eyes and clenching her fists. It didn''t take a genius to figure out what she was thinking.


    "This isn''t what it looks like." I held out my hands in what I hoped was a disarming gesture. "Look, I got you out of that thing - I didn''t put you in there. I''m here to help." Thankfully, she unclenched her fists... but she kept her feet nted in a pseudobat stance. She didn''t look pained or confused now - she looked angry. She opened her mouth again, winced, and then frowned. She dragged a finger across her throat in a slow motion... until her hand gently brushed against her cor. Her frown deepened, and I saw her start to trace the edge of the cor.


    "Hang on, you don''t want to do that!" She didn''t seem to listen. She traced the edge of the cor until she found the lock. She started to press it... "WHOA! Stop! Listen to me, that''s a bomb cor! If you mess with it, it''ll go off!" That got her attention. She looked surprised... but then her eyes drifted down, and settled on my cor. She looked back up at me, and raised an eyebrow.


    "Yeah... Let''s just say we''re in this together."


    She just shook her head... and started walking out of the room.


    "Hang on, what do you mean by that?" She nced over her shoulder, but kept walking out of the room, down the hallway. I grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around to look at me. "If your cor goes off, then mine goes off. We need to cooperate if we''re going to get out of here, and it''s better if we guard each other."


    She shook her head again. She rolled her shoulder, shaking off my hand, and took a step back. She took a finger and started drawing a line between the two of us.


    "That''s not going to work for me." I said. She shook her head - once - and crossed her arms. I sighed. "Look, I''m not... I''m not trying to order you here. But your life is tied to mine. And I''m going to need your help if we''re both going to get through this."


    She frowned, ncing at my cor, and then stared back at me. She made a circle with her hands, and put them around her eyes - like she was holding binocrs - and squinted. She nodded at me, lowered her hands from her eyes, and shook her head. Then she drew a slow line between the two of us.


    Fuck. I hate charades.


    "Alright. You''re looking for something else. Fine. I can help."


    She studied me again, and her expression seemed to... soften? She shook her head slowly, and gave a silent sigh. She nodded at me, then motioned her head towards the hallway. Alright, I guess that was progress.


    "So, does this mean we''re going to work together?" I held out a hand; it hadn''t worked with God, but maybe... She smiled grimly with the corner of her mouth, and reluctantly shook my hand. Fuck me, that''s a hell of a grip.


    "Alright. Works for me. Now, do you know a way out of here that isn''t the front door?" She raised an eyebrow at that. "It''s just those... things. The ones with the gas masks. They''re probably gathered around the front by now." She sighed and shook her head again. She motioned with her thumb for me to follow her, and then she started walking back down the hall.


    A few minutester, she''d led me into one of the rooms in the first hallway. This one didn''t have any Auto Docs... but I saw a few examining tables with bodies on them. They were wearing jumpsuits, like what I was wearing under the security armor... and they didn''t have heads. Wonderful.


    "Hey, are you sure there''s a way ou- WHOA!" I turned around to take a look at the mute woman; against all probability, she had taken her shirt off. I turned around and faced the wall. A primeval part of my brain wanted to look, but... thankfully, mymon decency won out.


    "Okay, yeah, I''m just gonna... Yeah, I''ll give you some... privacy. I guess. Right. I''m just going to look over at this wall. This seems like a nice wall." I don''t know why, but I was babbling. Wait, no, I knew exactly why. Why the fuck was she getting naked at a time like this? She must be crazy.


    I felt the back of a hand bat me across the side of my head after a few minutes of staring at the wall. I guess that was her way of telling me it was safe to turn around. I gotta say... I was in for a bit of a shock when I got a look at her. She was wearing a ck bodysuit withbat boots, knee-pads, a web belt with at least four ammo pouches, and some kind of chest armor made out of a grey ceramic that I couldn''t identify.


    "Uh... okay then." I couldn''t really think of anything to say. She motioned with her head towards the door, and started walking. Before she left, though, I spoke up. "Hey, hold up. Here. Might as well have a weapon if we''re going out there." I handed her the automatic rifle. She looked down at it, and then up at me with a raised eyebrow... and then she smirked, taking it from me.


    I started following her through the clinic. Up the stairs, through another hallway, and then... outside. As if on cue, a thunderp boomed above us. The mute woman was looking around - apparently, this door led out onto a balcony. I didn''t see any of the vi inhabitants... but I could hear them, off in the distance.


    "What are you..." I watched as she shouldered the massive rifle, and started to climb. Before I knew it, she''d shimmied up the wall and was up on the overhanging parapet above the balcony. I heard two thumps, and then she peered over the edge back at me. Alright then...


    "Fine, I''ming," I said, trying to climb up the same way she did. How the hell did she find the grip? It took a while, but eventually, I found my way onto the roof... after the mute woman held out a hand to pull me up.


    "Thanks..." I said, looking around the roof. She gave me a quick nod. "So, do you know how to get to the fountain in the center of town?" She looked down, pointed at my Pip Boy, and looked back up at me disapprovingly. "Yeah, the map on this is pretty much useless. I thought I''d have more luck asking directions from someone who actually knows where they''re going."


    The mute woman smirked and shook her head at me. She motioned with her head, and started walking along the roof - presumably, towards the fountain. I followed her, silent as she was.


    What next?

 Chapter 45: The Singer

    Chapter 45: The Singer


    The mute woman and I were walking along the rooftops. Thankfully, we hadn''t seen any inhabitants up here, I hadn''t heard from Elijah over my Pip Boy, and somehow, even the air didn''t seem sopletely foul. There was still red Cloud above us, but it didn''t seem quite as thick... somehow. I took a look at mypanion, and decided to try and strike up a conversation. Despite the fact that it was probably going to be a bit one-sided.


    "Hey, uh..." The woman stopped and turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. "Those scars you have... those weren''t done by the Auto Doc, were they? It was just the scar on your throat, wasn''t it?" She nodded... slowly. She got a distant look in her eye, and she reached up to touch the scar on her neck... She closed her hand slowly, and then pointed at me, raising her eyebrow.


    "Don''t look at me. I didn''t put you in there." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She tapped the side of her neck twice and opened her mouth wide, shrugging her shoulders.


    "I don''t know. I can''t restore your voice, I know that. All I have are stimpacks - we''d need a real Auto Doc to get your voice back." She shivered slightly at the words ''Auto Doc,'' and shook her head quickly.


    "I don''t me you. I wouldn''t want to go back into anyce small after that. Thing I don''t get - why did the machine shave you bald?" She stared nkly at me for a few minutes... she ran a hand over her bald head, smiled, and shook her head at me.


    "Wait, you cut your own hair off?" I asked. She raised a finger and opened her mouth - and then shut it quickly, shaking her head. She waved it off, and then nodded in the direction of the casino looming over us to the north.


    "No, wait, I want to hear this." I started kicking myself immediately after I said it, and the mute woman just stared at me with a frustrated expression. "... You know what I mean. You were bald before?" She nodded at me with an exasperated look, then drew a circle in the air with her finger. She repeated it twice more, and then raised her hands, waving them like wings. She put both hands in front of her, and made a motion with her hands as if writing something. Something about that symbol seemed familiar... and then I remembered the night I killed Benny... when I found out Veronica was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, and saw a symbol like that on her forearm armor.


    "Wait... that''s a Brotherhood of Steel symbol, right? Are you a scribe?" She nodded, and for the first time since I met her... she looked impressed. I just couldn''t understand what a member of the Brotherhood was doing all the way out here in Mexico.


    "How the fuck did you find yourself all the way out here?" I asked. She shrugged... and then she pointed to me and shrugged again.


    "Fair point. So... were you here before, or did you get here the same way I did?" She paused, thinking for a minute... and then she moved a finger in a wide circle, then raised a hand over her eyes, looking around.


    "Yeah, no, I got that earlier. You''re looking for something, right?" She shook her head, and made a motion of two fingers - almost like two people walking. "Someone?" She nodded again, then raised up a fist, letting her pointer finger hang limp... and then, keeping the rest of her hand steady, pointed up. I couldn''t help but chuckle at that.


    "A man, huh?" She nodded, then made a motion with her hands around her chin, drawing it down, and then raised her hands, clenching them at the sky. Okay, that was a bit harder to figure out. Have I mentioned that I hate charades?


    "An... angry... bearded man?" I took a gamble. Turns out, I was right. She nodded, looked concerned for a minute... then she tapped the side of her head, expanding her hands. "Someone smart." She nodded again, and circled her ear with her finger several times.


    "... and nuts. Let me guess - you''re looking for Elijah, the asshole who put the cors on us, right?" She nodded, frowning. "Sounds like it''s pretty important for you to find him. That seems to be a running theme among the people here. I have no idea why..." I scratched absentmindedly at my bomb cor.


    The mute woman just smirked, and shook her head. She frowned, raised two fingers and had them walk together. Then, she looked down on the two fingers, and her face became angry. Then she chopped her hand down, drawing the two fingers apart. One of the fingers she pointed at herself.


    "So... he cut you off from someone?" She nodded. "What, like family in the Brotherhood? Husband?" She frowned and shook her head - and even more so at husband. "Boyfriend?" She shook her head even more. "...girlfriend?" She snapped her fingers and pointed at me, nodding.


    "Heh... well, if it makes you feel any better, I know how you feel." She raised an eyebrow at that, so I continued. "I understand how important a loved one can be... and I know what it''s like to lose... someone." I got quiet, trying to silence old memories in my head trying to surface. Now was really not the time to be thinking about... <em>her.</em> It''s been 13 years. Push it out of your brain. Compartmentalize. Focus.


    When I finally looked up, I realized the mute woman was staring at me with a raised eyebrow. It was almost like she was gauging me again - or judging me. One of those two.


    "What, you think I don''t understand love? Give me a little credit." She just rolled her eyes at me. She made a slow circle movement with her hands, and then tapped her wrist.


    Yep. Definitely hate charades.


    "No offense, but can youmunicate some other way instead of the hand gestures? Can you write? I mean... if only so I could find out what your name is..." She opened her mouth, but closed it quickly and frowned. She traced one of the scars on her forehead with her finger. She then made a motion as if picking up a pencil, using it to write in midair, and then she shook her head.


    "Something to do with the surgery?" She nodded, and then drew a jagged symbol in the air with her finger - almost like a symbol for electricity, maybe? She put a finger against each side of her head, shook her whole body, and then she put on an odd nk stare, her head lolling to one side and her mouth hanging open. She blinked slowly, closed her mouth, and looked around. She looked at her hands, shook them once, and let them go limp.


    "Wait, are you saying somebody shocked your brain with electrodes?" She nodded. "That''s... isn''t that some kind of Pre-War brain surgery?" She nodded again, and then made a motion of typing and drawing X''s and lines in the air, then gave a thumbs up. That one took me a minute to figure out.


    "So, you can still do numbers and calctions?" She nodded slowly. "But you can''t write." She shook her head. She motioned with her head back at the casino off in the distance, and tapped her wrist again.


    "Alright, yeah. Good point. We should probably get moving again."


    It didn''t take us that long to get to the fountain. Of course, when we got to the edge of the roof that overlooked the central courtyard, I realized something rather troubling: we were at least four stories off the ground.


    "Okay, we''re here," I knelt down near the edge, looking around. "So, how do we get down?"


    I heard some motion to my left, and looked just in time to see the mute woman <em>leap</em> off the roof! I tried to say something, to stop her or... something... and I watched her fall gracefully through the air andnd on her feet. She picked herself up and looked at me - like she was expecting me to follow her.


    "I... I can''t do that!" I managed to stammer out eventually. Hell, thest time I fell off a two story drop, I ended up with a bruised shin and a bloody shoulder. If I attempted what she just did, I''d probably break both my legs.


    Right. Staying up here gawking isn''t going to get me down. I looked around and saw a gutter running along the roof, and a drainpipe that led all the way down to the ground. So, I swallowed my pride and lowered myself down along the pipe... careful now... don''t...


    "Fuck!"


    About halfway down, my foot slipped against something slick, I lost my grip, and I tumbled backwards. The holorifle and the spear ttered to the ground, and then immediately after, my back smashed into the cobbled streets with a crack that sounded... a lot worse than it was, really. Don''t get me wrong - as soon as I tried to move, my whole body ached. But I think the armor must have softened the blow or something, because I''m sure nothing was broken.


    The mute woman stood over me as Iy there on the ground, staring up at the mass of blood red clouds in the sky. She did not look the least bit amused. When I tried to get up, however, she offered me a hand and helped me get back on my feet.


    "Thanks," I grunted, rubbing my lower back with a grimace. "Fuck, I need to get some pads for my ass. Ol'' gal wasn''t built for that much abuse!" I let out a grim chuckle, and she just shook her head. I reached down to grab my weapons, and checked to make sure they weren''t damaged. "Alright, we should start looking around - there should be a super mutant here that''s -" Before I could finish, I heard a door behind me creak open.


    "What''s this?" I heard God''s voice from behind me. I turned around to see the Nightkin exiting the nearby building and start advancing towards the mute woman. "Why... it''s a little doll. Were you carved by a craftsman..." I followed his gaze; he was staring at the scars on her head. "... or were you mauled by a drunk who didn''t know his tools?"


    The mute woman held her ground and nted her back foot in abat stance. She pulled the automatic rifle off her back and pulled back the charging handle with a dramatic ''chak!'' God just let out a low, menacing chuckle.


    "Don''t worry. I''m not going to hurt you... yet... much." I needed to stop this. I stepped between the mute and the super mutant, holding out my hands at both.


    "Alright, everybody just calm down. God, seriously - chill your tits." I turned to the mute woman. "He''s in the same boat as us - which means if he dies, we all blow up." She narrowed her eyes, still ring up at the mutant for a minute... and then lowered the rifle. She turned on her heels and walked away. I heard Godugh from behind me.


    "What the fuck was that about?" I practically yelled at the super mutant. He just continued to stare at her.


    "Just testing the waters of the new... arrival. Scars tell a story. Some old... some new... and the one on her throat is fresh and red." He turned around and started to head back into the same building. "When you need me, I''ll be waiting in here... out of the Cloud."


    After the Nightkin left the courtyard, I went back to the fountain. The mute woman was standing at the edge, looking up at the holographic woman standing on the top.


    "Sorry about that," I said,ing to a stop next to her. She looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. "He''s... kind of an asshole. If I had a choice of working with him, I wouldn''t. But I don''t. So here we are." She shook her head, and went back to staring up at the holographic woman. I looked up at the hologram as well for a minute or two...


    Wow. Someone must have spent quite a lot of time and effort to shape that ass. That ass was... I mean... <em>damn</em>.


    I shook it off, realizing what I was doing, and I tried to distract myself with something else. My eyes fell on therge gate to the south... I looked behind me, at the casino to the north... and then back at the south gate.


    "Hey, I have a question for you." The mute woman looked over to me and raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn''t happen to know how to get out of here, would you?"


    Very simply, she pointed at the southern gate. Before I could say anything, she pointed at my cor, shook her head, and then made exploding motions with her fingers next to her own cor.


    "Yeah, I got that when I talked to Elijah - he said that if I tried to leave, he''d set off my cor. But once the cors are gone, that''s the way out? We could just leave?"


    She nodded slowly, as if thinking. Then she rubbed her chin, narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. She pointed downwards, making a circle around her, then back to the same spot... and then her finger drifted, circling, and she made a mock-frown. She then shook her head again.


    "So... wait, you''re saying it''ll be difficult to return here if we leave?" It kind of made sense, given that we were in Mexico, and not in a part of Mexico that the NCR had tried to civilize like Baja... but then she pointed at herself, and shook her head. She then pointed to me, and nodded.


    "... to return here if <em>I</em> leave." She nodded again. "But not you." She nodded once, her expression going stony.


    "That doesn''t make sense. Why wouldn''t you be able to find your way back?" She shook her head. She pointed at the ground directly below her, and then she moved each of her legs outward, straddling the ce where she was pointing in that samebat stance I''d seen before. And then everything clicked in my head.


    "You aren''t going to leave." She nodded. That didn''t make any sense.


    "Why?" I asked. "Why the fuck would you want to stay here, of all ces? This is a hellhole! A deathtrap! Why the fuck would anyone ever want to stay?"


    She frowned, and pulled the automatic rifle off her back. At first I wanted to step back, but then I realized she was just using it to illustrate a point. She hefted the rifle up, taking aim at something away from me off in the distance. She shouldered the rifle, made a sweeping circle with her hands, and then put her arms in abat stance around where she''d drawn the circle in the air, as if covering it. I tried to work out all the motions she''d done in my head, trying to make sense of it all.


    "You want to kill something here," or someone, I thought. "And then... protect this ce?" She looked impressed, and nodded. "Why?" I asked.


    She looked at me, as if surprised. She nced at my cor, wrinkled her face, and pointed at it. She made a wide sweeping circle of the area, looking around... and then brought both hands back to her, then to her neck, and held it. With her hands still on her neck, she looked up at me gravely, and then shook her head. She didn''t remove her hands.


    "You''re worried someone else is going to find this ce. Use it to hurt people." She nodded slowly, her hands still locked on her throat. She looked pained for a moment, and she finally broke from my gaze. Her fingers fluttered for a second, almost frantically. Then she ran her hands along her scalp, then her throat... and then the cor. She looked back at me, pointing at my Pip Boy, almost with frustration... then gestured all around her, and her shoulders seemed to sag. After a moment, she nced back at me, looked all around her, and then shook her head slowly.


    "You can''t protect the world from the world. It''s... it''s useless." As soon as I said that, I realized who I was talking to: she''s a member of the Brotherhood of Steel. If everything I''d heard from Veronica and Arcade was true (or if even half of it was true) then trying to protect the world from the world seemed... very much like the Brotherhood''s MO. She looked down and shook her head. She started walking away from the fountain, looked at me over her shoulder, and pointed at a nearby building.


    "Yeah, that''s probably a good idea. Staying out of the Cloud... Alright, there''s onest cor I need to find. I''ll be back as soon as I find whoever it is, and hopefully we can get the fuck out of here." She nodded at me, and entered a nearby building - I noticed with a wry sense of amusement that it was on the opposite end of the courtyard from God.


    I think I was finally getting the hang of navigating the winding streets of the Vi. I couldn''t see it all the time, but the casino off to the north wasrge enough that I could use that as a point of reference... and there were street signs everywhere. Well, okay, not everywhere, but they were at regr enough intervals that I could actually use them. Despite the fact the signs were in Spanish.


    Right,st cor to find. Elijah hadn''t contacted me since the transmission broke up in the medical district, but luckily there was a map marker on my Pip Boy for thest cor... it looked like it was somewhere in the eastern part of the Vi, between the fountain and somewhere called "Salida Del Sol." The street signs were leading me to a ce called "Zona Residencial."


    Off in the distance, I could hear some more of the Vi inhabitants. I couldn''t tell exactly where they were, or if they were getting closer. There was also a familiar chittering noise from behind me - a pair of radroaches were shuffling along the ground, just behind me. I shook my head, and couldn''t help butugh quietly to myself - I guess the three-foot long cockroaches really could survive anything, couldn''t they?


    After a bit more sneaking around, I found an archway, with a sign above it that read: "Zona Residencial - Residential District." Guess this must be the ce. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the speaker on my Pip Boy crackled to life. Oh joy. What useless piece of ''advice'' is Elijah going to shove down my throat this time?


    "You''re in the residential district - good, good... You must have found the mute. I''m picking up signals near your location. Detonators. Watch for traps." And then, just as suddenly as it sounded, there was a small burst of static, and my Pip Boy went silent again.


    As soon as I got a good look ahead of me, I could see what he meant. There was one of the Vi inhabitants lying on the ground... or, rather, its head and torso were lying on the ground. I couldn''t see where any of its limbs were. However, the really worrying thing was what was underneath it: a small metal disk, and a partially obscured orange light on the top.


    It was an anti-personnel frag mine. When most people think of mines, I imagine they think of something buried in the ground, which are activated when you step on it. This kind of mine, however, I recognized: they''re surface charges, designed to be used above ground. They''re kind of like ymore mines - shaped charges that blow fragments in a wide area. The thing of it is, a ymore is either set off by a trip wire or detonated manually. This kind of mine has a sensor that blows if it detects motion roughly two feet above it. I don''t know why it won''t go off if there''s motion below that two-foot ceiling, but I''ve really never questioned it... because it means that they <em>can</em> be disarmed.


    Of course, you have to crawl on your belly just to get close to it, and if you stray slightly higher than that two feet - or move towards it too fast - then it''ll give you hardly any warning and blow your face off, scattering you in a wide area.


    There was a beep, and the light on the top of the mine turned off after I flicked the switch on the side to disarm it. I let out a sigh of relief, and quickly shoved the dismembered body off the mine. No sense leaving the mine here - I might be able to use itter.


    I looked around, cycling my eyes through various different vision modes. I settled on EM vision first, and my blood went cold. This vision mode was designed to pick up electromaic signatures - mostly electrical wires, but also devices and sensors, things like that - and it also picked up the electrical impulses running through a nervous system. The whole area was awash with points of light. Elijah wasn''t kidding about picking up signals. I had to really watch my step.


    That point was proven less than two minutester when I made my way up a set of stairs, and nearly tripped over a... well, a trip wire. It was just inside the door, and after I carefully stepped over it, I saw what it was connected to: there was a shotgun mounted on the underside of a table next to a door, and it was pointed right at one of those gas bottle things that liked to explode.


    That sort of set the tone for my romp through the Residential District, really. If it wasn''t rigged shotguns, it was grenade bouquets set to fall and explode, or it was a cluster of bear traps, or it was more mines. There was one trap that really stood out to me, however - at one point, I found a trap that involved a suspended I-beam hanging from the ceiling that, presumably, when set off by the trip wire at the door, the I-beam would fall and smash in the chest of the idiot stupid enough to set it off.


    This ce was just getting better and better by the minute, wasn''t it?


    I was getting close to the cor now. Eventually, I found myself on a balcony, overlooking what I presumed was another street... I couldn''t really tell. Elijah said that when I saw concentrated pockets of the Cloud, I''d know. He really wasn''t kidding. The entire street below me waspletely obscured by what looked like heavy red fog so thick I couldn''t even see the ground. I could hear movement inside the red Cloud, and when I got close - I had to, the only way forward to the next building was by a catwalk made out of scrap lumber - my eyes started to water. I didn''t start choking or coughing, however. Maybe I was finally getting used to the Cloud? Honestly, I hoped not. I didn''t want to be used to <em>anything</em> here.


    After what felt like a million more traps (and finding another glowing handprint and a suitcase full of supplies that I raided) I wound up in another courtyard, surrounded on all sides by four story buildings. The strange thing is, as soon as I entered the courtyard, it was like I could hear music... and when I looked up, I could see strings of lights hanging between the buildings. All the lights seemed to originate from the same spot: a building on the southern end of the courtyard, with arge hole in the side of the top floor. I looked down at my Pip Boy''s map. Yep. This was definitely where I needed to be.


    I followed the staircase up, all the way to the top floor. The music sounded like... actually, I couldn''t tell what it sounded like. When I finally got to the top floor, I saw two chairs facing the hole in the wall - and outside the hole, there was a perfect view of the Sierra Madre. The chair on the right was empty, but there was someone sitting in the chair on the left, with a small cloud of smoke hanging in the air above him. Off to the side, I could see - was that an old turntable and a vinyl record?


    "Have a seat," I heard the figure sitting in the chair speak up. "And then... we''ll talk." It was a man''s voice. It sounded like his voice was wrapped in chocte silk... andced with snake venom. I don''t know why I thought that, but... the smoothness of his words, and the precise way he carefully enunciated every syble...


    I was incredibly surprised to find the owner of the voice was a ghoul. I thought all ghouls had raspy, broken voices? He was wearing a ragged, beaten up tuxedo; there were a pair of mirrored aviators on his face - although, for the life of me, I couldn''t figure out how they stayed on without ears - in his hands was a lit cigarette, and around his neck... was a bomb cor.


    "You cor 14?" I asked. He just smiled a cracked smile, and said nothing; he took a long draw from his cigarette, and let the smoke pour out of the holes on his face where his nose used to be. Obviously, he wasn''t going to talk to me until I sat down. So... very gingerly, I did.


    This is a bad idea, I thought to myself. With the amount of traps, mines, bear traps, explosives, and all the rest around here, and given how he was just sitting up here, smugly waiting for me... it was a good bet he was the one who set all those traps. Chances are, the chair was rigged as well, somehow.


    "The Sierra Madre..." The ghoul leaned back in his chair, finally taking the cigarette away from his mouth. "Beauty, isn''t she? She the one who invited you here? Or, maybe you didn''t catch her voice on the radio. Woke up, confused, like some of the others. Least you''re still breathing."


    "There is that," I said, unconsciously fidgeting in my chair. The ghoul smirked at me.


    "By the way, if I were you? I wouldn''t get up or make any sudden motions, no matter how ufortable that chair gets..." The ghoul lifted up his left arm from behind where he was hiding it, and in his hands was what was unmistakably a detonator. "The cushion''s just for show."


    I looked down, and immediately realized what his game was. I could tell already: I wasn''t going to like this asshole.


    "That better be a shaped charge under my ass. Otherwise, you''re going to kill both of us." The ghoul smiled wide, letting out an amusedugh.


    "Sounds like you''ve done some blue cor construction work in your life! Oh, your mother must be so proud! Still... If you get up without my permission, I''ll st your ass so far through your head, it''ll turn the moon cherry pie red. So - let''s keep this meeting sweet and polite, and finish our conversation with no misunderstandings, yes?"


    "You''ve got my attention. For the moment." The ghoul lowered the arm with the detonator behind the chair''s armrest again, and he stopped smiling.


    "Just because I work in entertainment doesn''t mean I''m a moron," He tapped the bomb cor around his neck with the hand holding the cigarette. "I heard my necktie beeping, I know what this means. I''m part of this somehow. I want out of this contract. And if you put me in it, I''m not going to be too happy. So whatever''s going on here, if you''re part of all this? You''re going to take orders from me." He smiled smugly at me and took another draw from his cigarette.


    "Your negotiation skills assume you''re bargaining from a position of strength." I said, rather bluntly. The ghoul stopped smiling again, and I saw a skinless brow raise from behind his sunsses.


    "What are you talking about?" He said slowly, deliberately. I tapped the side of my bomb cor.


    "This thing on my neck isn''t for show," I said, mimicking his words from earlier. "Our cors - these ''neckties'' - are linked. That bomb goes off, so do I - and you, too." I saw the sides of his mouth twitch at that. He snuffed out his cigarette and tried his best to regain hisposure.


    "That''s... an interesting use," He let out a single, grim chuckle. "That''s a real bad contract you have... <em>We</em> have"


    "It''s starting to make sense, now I''ve met you." The ghoul leaned back in his chair and just startedughing.


    "Ha-ha-haa! All right, all right... Oh dear. Looks like marriage finally caught up to me. I''m listening... partner. What''s next, if we''re death-till-we part?" I saw him take the detonator in his left hand, put the safety cover back over the trigger, and toss it away. Good. I got up from the chair and started walking towards the hole in the wall - the chair didn''t blow. Excellent.


    "If I''m honest, I don''t know what the whole n is. I just know that I want to get this done so I can get the fuck out of this hellhole and nevere back. As for our... ''contract?'' We''ll find out more back at the fountain in the center of town." The ghoul got up off his chair, and straightened his tux.


    "The fountain, huh? Hope the hologram is still working and the battery is running strong. I''ll follow you - but I''m not going alone, trust me." He hesitated momentarily, and then quickly added "Not like I''m a coward or anything. I''m just not used to running around town without an escort." I just stared at him with a raised eyebrow.


    "You''re kidding, right?"


    "I''m serious," He said, looking out the hole in the wall. "One of the Ghost People catch us, we aren''ting back - and besides. I''d like to keep an eye on you."


    "Fine. Whatever. Just one more thing. What''s your name?" I asked. Seemed like a sensible enough question, but the ghoul just sighed, and shook his head.


    "Well, I guess what Danny Parker always said was true - fame is fleeting, indeed. You really don''t know who I am?" I shook my head. He seemed insulted. "I was one of the biggest names from before the bomb!" As he spoke, he gestured wildly with his hands. "London, Paris, Barcelona - my name was in lights for sold out shows all around the world! Everyone knew me - the world famous entertainer, Dean Domino, loved by all! And here, in the ruins of the Sierra Madre, I find myself being questioned by a tourist who doesn''t know his ass from a hole in the ground."


    "Sorry if I insulted you," I said, not really meaning it. "But like you said, that was before the bombs. Maybe you didn''t notice, but the world got blown to shit 200 years ago. It''s understandable that some things might have gotten lost in the interim."


    "Still doesn''t make the injustice sting any less..." I just rolled my eyes.


    "Right. Well. It''s a... ''pleasure'' to meet you, Dean. I''m Sheason Fisher."


    "I didn''t ask."


    Fucking hell. This was going to be <em>Fun</em>, wasn''t it?


    10

 Chapter 46: The Crew

    Chapter 46: The Crew


    I was starting to dislike Dean.


    I''m sure the mute woman - whatever her name was - probably thought I never shut up. But at least I had the good sense to only speak up when I was pretty sure we wouldn''t be ambushed by the Vi''s inhabitants. This guy, though...


    "Going to be sad to leave the Residential District. Well... not really."


    "Sure left a lot of traps around. Sometimes I forget where they are..."


    "You sure came a long way to rob this ce. Guess greed is in the blood."


    "You''d think it was Spring, the way tourists keep rolling in."


    "Ah, aren''t the trees lovely this time of year, all blooming and green..."


    I''d had enough. More than enough, honestly.


    I grabbed Dean by the shoulder of his tux, dragged him into a nearby alcove, mmed his back into the wall, and shoved my Pip Boy against his neck - between his rotten chin and his bomb cor. He only had a moment to look surprised - his sunsses now sitting askew on the stump of his nose - before I gritted my teeth and hissed in his face just loud enough for him to hear.


    "What the fuck do you think you''re doing? Do you have a fucking death wish, or something?" By now, Dean had gotten over the initial shock and had started struggling against me.


    "Hey, hands off the merchandise!" He gave a solid push against my arm, so I backed off a bit - taking the Pip Boy away from his neck. "What are you talking about?" As he spoke, he tried to straighten his jacket; never mind that it was filthy and torn in over half a dozen ces.


    "I haven''t been here all that long, but even I''ve figured out that those gas-mask zombies-"


    "The Ghost People?" Dean straightened his sunsses.


    "Yeah, them. I''ll bet you any caps they''re drawn to sound - and here you are, refusing to shut up." I kept hissing through gritted teeth, right in his face. "No offense, but I don''t really care about you. I care about <em>getting the fuck out of here</em>. And I''m not going to be able to do that if I''m neck deep in zombies because you''re an idiot."


    "Oh..." Dean just shook his head and chuckled softly to himself, straightening his bow tie. "Well, if that''s all you were worried about, you should have said something sooner, tourist."


    "What do you mean?" I asked. Calm as you like, Dean reached into his tux and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. I backed up a bit, eying him carefully... what was he up to?


    "Smoke?" He offered. I shook my head and waved him off. He just smiled. "Good, I wasn''t going to give you one anyhow." He leaned against the wall and started smoking. "This isn''t the first time I''ve had to leave the Residential District. asionally, I have to leave to scrounge up supplies, and I don''t like taking chances. So, before we left my t, I set off one of my little... distractions."


    "Distractions?" I asked. Dean nodded.


    "Yes, just a charming little something I cooked up a while back. Makes a hell of a lot of noise, and shes a lot of lights directly into the underground - where the Ghost People like to live. It''s clear on the other end of town. By now, there shouldn''t be a single one of the Ghost People between here and wherever we need to go. Just so long as that somewhere isn''t Puesta Del Sol."


    "Huh," I stepped back further, appraising the ghoul. "Any other tricks up your sleeve?"


    "Of course," Dean got up off the wall, flicked the cigarette away, and started walking off. I through it best to follow him - keep an eye on him. "I''m going to take a stab in the dark here - our destination is the fountain, yes?" I nodded. "There are a few shortcuts between here and there I''m sure you''d be interested in taking."


    After about a hundred yards of following him, he veered right, into another alcove in the wall. I heard a click, and rounded the corner just in time to see him open a door into the building.


    "Are you sure this is safe?" I asked, looking around the dusty interior of the building. Dean closed the door, and immediately it felt easier to breathe - if nothing else, this ce was protected from the Cloud.


    "Well, we could always use my normal shortcut - but that back alley is saturated so thick with the Cloud..." He looked back at me, and chuckled grimly. "Honestly? You don''t really look all that... <em>limated</em> to the weather here."


    "Good point." Dean led the two of us through the building and up a flight of stairs. I didn''t hear anything around except the creaking of old floorboards under our feet. Nobody around, no cloud... and with any luck, no traps. I decided to use this little bit of downtime to try and.. make amends. I didn''t really like this asshole, but I was going to have to work with him. And that meant at least attempting to y nice.


    "Hey, Dean?"


    "Hmm?"


    "I''m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I''ve just... it''s been a bad day, alright? I really don''t like this ce, and I want to get the fuck out of here as fast as I can. So... sorry." Dean muttered a monosybicugh (that was more like a grunt, honestly), and didn''t even bother turning around to face me.


    "Yes, well, I''ve had a bad... how long''s it been now, 200 years?" He sighed, reaching into his jacket - presumably for more cigarettes. "I''ve honestly lost track. But yes, I suppose you <em>have</em> had a bit of a rough day, little boy. Just like all the rest who''ve wound up here..."


    "The rest?" Dean was leading us down a long hallway, past a few windows so filthy they could''ve been red walls.


    "The others who''vee to visit the Sierra Madre - Tourists, you know? They don''t stay long... and they don''t stay alive long. If they survive the Cloud, the Ghost People, the traps? That''s when greed takes over, and they start sizing each other up for funeral suits. First, they figure they can get out, escape - like you keep iming you want to do. Then, they start thinking it over, start thinking about how they can <em>have it all</em>. They start weighing the odds, taking risks... and then taking each other out. Bomb cors or no. Although... it''s odd. The bomb cors weren''t linked before like they are now. Guess <em>someone</em> learned what the problem was..." Dean started softly chuckling to himself. I started thinking about what he was talking about, and something he kept saying stood out to me...


    "Actually, I got a question for you. The gas-mask zombies - the Vi Inhabitants - you called them Ghost People, right?"


    "Yes... what of it?" He turned around and stopped to get a look at me, cigarette hanging limply out of his mouth, his left brow raised. Well, that was something, at least. "Ghost People" was a hell of lot easier than saying "Vi Inhabitants" all the time. It wasn''t much, but... little victories, you know?


    "Do you know where the Ghost Peoplee from?" Dean just shook his head and kept moving.


    "Friend... ''There''s more mysteries in heaven and earth...'' wait, no, that''s not right..." Dean clutched at his cigarette and looked pensive for a moment, before taking it out of his mouth and opening his arms, raising his hand up towards the ceiling "There is more between heaven and earth..." And then he paused, mouth slowly closing. Eventually, he shook his head and lowered his arms. "Oh, forget it. You know that old line anyway, right?"


    "Hey, don''t look at me, man. I don''t know what the fuck you''re talking about." Dean stared at me, astonished.


    "It''s a line from Hamlet! How do you not... ugh, philistine..." Dean shook his head, and kept walking. "Forget it. Point is, I''d sooner ask what makes me an undying son of a bitch than spend any thought as to why they crawled back to life here. Personally? I''m counting myself lucky I still have my faculties - they certainly don''t. Then again... they may not have had the... <em>focus</em> that I posses."


    "Focus?" I asked. He nodded, still looking away from me as we turned a corner down another hall.


    "Always had the Sierra Madre to keep my mind upied. Most folks... they don''t have the same drive. The same need. None of them were ever worth my time..." He finally looked over his shoulder at me and smirked. "Pretty much Ghost People before the Bomb... and Ghost People after."


    "Why do you keep calling it ''the'' bomb?" I asked.


    "Excuse me?"


    "It wasn''t just one bomb. It was a whole fuckload of warheads that blew the world to shit 200 years ago. I''m just wondering why you keep calling it ''<em>the</em> bomb,'' instead of ''the bomb<em>s</em>,'' plural."


    Dean took onest draw from his cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stamping it with his foot.


    "Thank you... but I prefer it my way."


    About halfway between Dean''s house in the Residential District and the fountain (I think...) we passed by another suitcase marked by a glowing handprint... and as soon as I went over to loot any useful supplies, Dean became extremely indignant.


    "And just what do you think you''re doing?" he asked, standing over me while I tried to pry open the lock.


    "I''ve found a couple of these suitcases around the Vi. The others had useful supplies, and I-" Dean cut me off.


    "Of course they have useful supplies! They''re <strong>my</strong> emergency stashes!"


    "C''mon, I''d say this qualifies as an emergency," I said, getting up to look him in the face. He just shook his head slowly.


    "No... no, it really doesn''t. This is just business as usual, as far as I''m concerned. Eventually, greed will get the better of you, you''ll get your head blown off, and I''ll go back to my daily routine."


    "I suppose you''ve always had that bomb cor, then?" Dean opened his mouth to protest, but shut it quickly, scowling at me from behind his sunsses. Good, my point was made. Now to drive it home. "Like I said - this counts as an emergency. So I''m using the supplies."


    "Just..." Dean sighed, taking out his pack of cigarettes again. "Leave me something, all right? I still need to eat. At least... I think I do..."


    I had no idea how long it took us to get to the fountain. The Cloud over headpletely obscured the entire sky, so I couldn''t see the sun - if it was even still daylight. This ce was royally fucking with my internal sense of time.


    As soon as we got to the courtyard, Dean strolled up to the lip of the fountain, and sat down, looking up at the glowing blue holographic woman standing on the pedestal in the center of the circr fountain.


    "Hello again, Vera. How have you been, doll?" The hologram, of course, didn''t respond; the image flickered slightly, but didn''t say anything.


    "So, you know who this hologram is supposed to be then?" I asked. Dean looked back at me with a raised, rotten brow.


    "Yeah - don''t you? Or..." He sighed. "I guess Vera got lost along with the rest of the holo-archives when the Bomb hit, huh?"


    "So, who is she?" I asked, taking a closer look at the holographic woman. Dean chuckled softly to himself.


    "Vera Keyes. Ghost in name and image. Still a looker, though. Got to hand it to Sinir, sure can pick ''em..." He smiled again, and said quietly to himself, barely loud enough for me to hear: "Well, or get picked. Whichever."


    "Can you tell me about her?" I asked, looking around the courtyard. I didn''t know how long it would take God and the mute woman to figure out we were all gathered here, so this seemed as good an idea as any to pass the time.


    "Vera was a big star, back before the Bomb. Not the best actress, but... well, she had <em>other</em> talents. Nice voice, nice legs..." he drew out thatst word a bit, looking back at the hologram.


    "Nice ass," I added with a smirk. Dean actually let out a smallugh at that.


    "Well, quite. For some reason, Sinir - uh, he built this ce, by the way - she caught his eye. Once he was hooked, that was it. He just <em>had</em> to have her. So, I made the introductions, and guess what? He builds this whole ce for her, like some kind of Cleopatra obsession..." he looked around, and quickly added "It wasn''t always a deathtrap. Believe me."


    "Introductions?" I asked, moving a bit closer to the fountain. "What, you knew her before Sinir met her?"


    "Of course. What, some kind of surprise to you that I knew people once? I used to have my name in lights, remember." He took a draw from his cigarette, and started blowing smoke rings. "I used to know a dozen Vera''s... or ''whatever her name was. Uh... Vera Keyes, that''s it.'' Figured I could pay Sinir back, introduce the two... he was such a slouch in the dame department, so I had to pick up the ck somehow."


    There was a mechanical flickering sound from the fountain, and suddenly the holographic woman disappeared. The same small panel on the edge of the fountain as before opened up, and in the ce of the woman, the holographic screen disying Elijah''s face materialized.


    "Guess I need to talk to the... <em>man</em>... who pped these cors on us. One second." I walked in front of the screen, and looked up. There was a crackle of static, and Elijah''s voice appeared out a nearby speaker inside the fountain.


    "Good, well done... You collected the rest of your team, good, good... now, for the festivities, and your parts in all this." I looked over to Dean, who was still sitting on the edge of the fountain, looking at the holographic screen; he shrugged, and kept smoking. "The owner of the Sierra Madre... for whatever reason... keyed the Grand Opening of the hotel to the G Event itself. It needs to be fired off in order for the casino doors to open. As I''ve discovered, one person can''t do it. So, get your team into the positions indicated on your Pip Boy, then trigger it properly. You''re so close now... don''t let me down. Otherwise, I''ll have to rely on the next team."


    My Pip Boy beeped at me, so I looked down. The map function showed several new markers - two in the eastern end of town, and two in the western end of town.


    "So, how am I supposed to get to these markers anyway?" I asked, pointing at my Pip Boy''s screen. Elijah coughed loudly.


    "I''ve unlocked the west and east gates to Puesta del Sol and Salida del Sol... now that you''ve survived the Vi, I need to get to my position, you don''t need me to hold your hand anymore."


    "Holding my hand?!" I practically shouted. "Is that what you''ve been doing? And you believe that?"


    "Don''t take that tone with me, <em>boy</em>. I told you about the Vi Inhabitants, and how the radios would interfere with your cor. You''ve gotten more than any of the others, so be grateful for the assistance I''ve seen fit to give you. Now, I''ll keep monitoring you via the transceivers through the Vi... and if I feel the need to offer more guidance, I will."


    "Right, fine. Whatever. So this G Event. What is it that we''re going to set off, anyway?" I asked the big angry bearded face above me.


    "A disy of lights, fireworks..." Elijah coughed again. "Music in the streets. It''s a pre-war festival to mark the casino''s opening. The bombs struck first. It is of no consequence, only firing the event is - get the three into position, and then travel to your position in Salida del Sol and trigger the G. After that... after that, the real work begins." I heard him start to chuckle, but it got softer very quickly; perhaps he wasughing away from the microphone.


    "The real work? What, was this just a warm-up or something?"


    "Perhaps you think this is a simple robbery... a cheap casino heist?" Elijah rasped gravely. "No... no, this is a heist of the centuries. I''m - we''re not plundering the Sierra Madre. We''re plundering history! Taking from the Old World itself. It won''t let its secrets go easily... not without a fight. Honestly? I wouldn''t expect anything less. As easy as the Vi was to navigate... the outlying areas of the Vi are far more dangerous. Thicker with the Vi Inhabitants, traps... toxins. Use your team as I use you... listen to your cor. Watch your step. You''re no use to me dead." With that, the screen flickered into nothing, and the panel in the lip of the fountain retracted, allowing the holographic woman to return.


    "Yeah, yeah... fuck you too, asshole," I muttered under my breath. I sighed and shook my head. Dean just kept smoking his cigarette, sitting on the fountain''s edge.


    "So, was that him floating above the fountain, the boss-man? The one who put these bowties on our necks?"


    "What do you think, Dean?" I said, suddenly feeling very exhausted. I''m not really sure why - I''d only been here... how long had I been here, anyway?


    "I think he really likes to make a presentation," Dean breathed in the cigarette smoke, despite a thin trail of smoke escaping out of the jagged nose holes in his face. "Wish he''d keep it down, honestly, or else the Ghost People are going to swarm the gates... Vera Hologram or no."


    "What the fuck does the hologram have to do with anything?" I asked. Off in the distance, I heard a pair of doors open - God was leaving his building, and on the other side of the courtyard, I saw the mute woman make her appearance as well.


    "I don''t know why, but for some reason the Ghost People stay away from the holograms. Perhaps they learned on some basic level to stay away after enough of them got disintegrated by the security holograms. Make a loud enough racket without something else to draw their attention, though..."


    God strode up towards Dean and myself, each of his footsteps reverberating against the street with a dull, heavy thud. The mute woman was keeping a decent distance away from God, but kept staring at the fountain; it looked like she was deep in thought. Dean ignored the Nightkin as the blue-skinned super mutant walked past him, and instead watched the mute woman from his seat on the edge of the fountain.


    "So... are we on our way to somewhere else?" God growled, looming over me. "A G Event perhaps?" When he said that, it made me wonder - just how much did Elijah''s voice travel? Did he hear it from his hiding ce on the other side of the courtyard, or...


    "What do you know about it?" I asked. God grunted, and I saw the corners of his mouth twitch.


    "It''s the way to bring the Old Man out. He won''t show himself until the casino doors are open. So triggering the Event is key... and <em>the</em> key. Do you follow?" I nodded slowly.


    "Yeah... I think so, yes."


    "The question bes... can we trust each other to do this?"


    "Trust is such a strong word, God..." I looked up, and was acutely aware of just how close this giant mass of muscles was standing to me. "But I think we can work together just long enough to get out of this alive. Because that''s all I want - to leave." God startedughing - slowly, deliberately, and so deeply that I could feel it shaking in my legs.


    "We''ll see. If we go to the point on your map," he pointed a giant sausage-finger at the Pip Boy on my arm. "and you bring Dog out, then..." God leaned in close, and I tried not to retch; somehow, his breath seemed worse than the Cloud. "I''ll make sure you pay in blood."


    "Don''t worry about it, God. You may be an asshole, but I''d rather deal with you than someone who wants to eat me any day." I looked down at my Pip Boy, zooming in on the point marked on the map for the super mutant. I showed him the screen and pointed to it. "Any reason Elijah assigned you to this point on the map?"


    "Maybe it''s familiar,fortable... After all, <em>practice</em> makes perfect. And as much as it bruises my ego, some things require... brute strength. In the rightbination."


    "Practice?" I asked. Does that mean... has he done this before?


    "Besides," God continued, turning to look at Dean and the mute woman. "none of your assembled band of thieves look able to rip down a rusted, 200 year old power switch down. And, obviously, I can."


    "Good point," I said, walking towards the ghoul and the woman. Dean had gotten up from his seat and it looked like he was trying to talk to her - or, more likely, trying to hit on her. Good luck with that, I thought. I only got the tail end of the one-sided conversation...


    "So tell me, gorgeous. What happened with those scars? Somebody... something carve you up, or...?" Dean asked. The mute woman just ignored him, looking up at the fountain; she was focused on it, like she was trying to figure something out.


    "Don''t... eh... don''t talk much, do you?" The mute woman finally looked at Dean with a re that could''ve been made ofsers. Slowly, she started to shake her head.


    "All right then," Dean turned on his heels and slowly started walking away. "I''ll just wallflower it over here..." He walked right past me, and then started talking to himself, but just loud enough for me to hear. "Damn shame... hate to think if someone put you in there. Who bailed you out again, the new guy? Interesting..."


    "So, you look deep in thought," I said to her. She continued to look at the fountain, narrowing her eyes. I followed her gaze, as her looked from the fountain to the perimeter of the courtyard... was she gauging the distance? She looked back, and down at the Pip Boy on my arm, and then back at the fountain. I looked down at my own arm, and looked at the fountain myself... and that''s when I figured out what she was doing.


    "You think he''s using my Pip Boy?" I asked, turning to her. "To establish the projector connection?" The mute woman started nodding slowly. She raised her hands in front of her face, palms facing each other, rotated each palm in a 180 degree arc, and then back again. I nodded.


    "You''re right, he''d have to be broadcasting from somewhere nearby... Somewhere close." I looked around, scanning the rooftops. "Any idea where?" She looked behind her, up towards the casino on the ridge overlooking the Vi... and frowned. She looked west... then east. Eventually, she turned around, pointed at my Pip Boy, and held out her hand.


    "Uh... alright." Cautiously, I held out the arm with my Pip Boy, and showed it to her. She started studying it intently, turning my arm around in her hands like an old sensor module. It kind of reminded me of when Veronica was handling my Pip Boy, after I showed her the Sierra Madre transmission. Except she didn''t seem interested in the screen - she was studying the exterior, and the casing. It was like she was making sure it was intact. But weren''t these things supposed to survive damn near anything?


    "Hey, don''t worry about a thing, I''ll just stand here like a piece of furniture until you''re done." I probably shouldn''t have said anything, but I couldn''t help myself. She looked up at me with a smirk, and rolled her eyes at me - and then yanked hard on my arm, so she could look at the screen. "Hey! Careful, that''s my arm, all right?" She ignored me, her finger stabbing through the red buttons, narrowing in on the local map. I leaned over her, trying to get a look at what she was doing - she had called up the local map of the Puesta del Sol switching station, and zoomed in. Her intent expression lost some of its edge as she noted the marker, and let go of my arm. She looked up at me, pointed at the marker on my Pip Boy, pointed west, and tilted her head.


    "Yeah..." I said, looking closer at the map marker. "That''s where he wants you to go, all right. Why do you think he wants you there?" She frowned, then made a motion in the air, as if typing at keys... then she pointed at me, raised her left wrist, and pantomimed talking into it. She pointed at me, then herself, and looked behind me - towards God and Dean, who were loitering on the other end of the fountain. She raised two fingers - one from each hand - tried to type, paused, and slowly shook her head.


    "You''re the only one who knows how to operate anyputers at the switching station, aren''t you?" I asked. She nodded slowly, looking impressed. I wasn''t so impressed - in fact, I was getting a little tired of ying this game of charades.


    "You know, this would be a lot easier if you did one snap for yes, and two snaps for no."


    She smiled humorlessly... and nodded slowly. Then, she shook her head slowly. She looked up at me, her face wrinkled in that same humorless smile.


    "Okay, okay, I get it," I said with a smirk, nodding myself. "Better than finger snaps." Her face wrinkled more, and then, reluctantly, smiled wider.


    "Smiling! There we go, that''s more like it." She just rolled her eyes, and slowly tapped the back of her wrist. This was getting too much. I needed to try and lighten the mood... somehow.


    "You know, you really need to rx. This whole ce is a pre-war paradise, you know." Words really can''t do justice to the expression she tossed my way. So, I figured I''d keep the joke going - as long as I could, at least. "Hey, don''t get me wrong. I''m not saying I''d want to build a summer home here... but once you get past the Ghost People, the Cloud, and all the traps, it''s really quite lovely."


    She threw her head back, and opened her mouth as if tough... but no sound came out. As soon as she realized herugh was silent, she stopped, and looked pained. Her expression darkened, and she hung her head. Right, that was the opposite of what I wanted to have happen. I put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at me.


    "Look... we''ll find a way to heal you, all right? I don''t know how, and I don''t know when, but I promise. I''ll figure out a way to get your voice back." She looked away, and shook her head... brushing away my hand. She turned, walking away back towards the building she''d been using for shelter - but before she did, she motioned with her head behind me.


    "Well?" I heard God''s booming voice from behind me. I turned around, and saw the Nightkin making his way towards me. "Are we going to the power switches, or should I just wait for you to die from exposure, first?"


    "Sure. Quicker we get there, the quicker we can get this over with, and the quicker I can leave this shithole." I checked the holorifle on my back, and the pistol under my arm, checking how much ammunition I still had left. While I did that, I turned to the ghoul - who was back to smoking at the edge of the fountain. "You going to be alright here for a while, Dean? Shouldn''t you try and find some cover from the Cloud?" The ghoul justughed.


    "Just because you''re my ball, chain, and dog cor all rolled into one doesn''t mean you need to be so fussy, dear," Deanughed again, taking onest draw of his cigarette, and tossing it aside. "I''ve lived here for so long... watched the Bomb fall... watched as the Cloud kept climbing up out of the Madre over the years, until it was curtains for the sun. I haven''t seen the sky for a century. Maybe more. I got used to the Cloud in small doses over the decades, and it''s so thin here... it''s almost like breathing air."


    "So you''re going to be fine on your own then." I just wanted a straight answer. That''s all. Just... something to go right today. Dean smiled, and slowly shook his head.


    "Go and get everyone in position, so we can trigger the G..." He smirked to himself, and added softly: "Again."


    "Again?" This wasn''t a coincidence. I needed to figure out what was really going on.


    "I''m sure you''ll see soon enough... or maybe the Boss-man will just keep you in the dark, and set off your necktie. Personally? I''m not really a betting man. I''m content to merely sit back... and watch the fireworks."


    I just sighed, and rolled my eyes at Dean. I motioned to God, and he and I walked east, away from the fountain... and all I could hear was Dean, slowlyughing to himself.

 Chapter 47: Keeping the Dog Fed

    Chapter 47: Keeping the Dog Fed


    I had no idea where we were going. I kept looking at the map on the Pip Boy, but every time I thought a turn would lead us to where God''s map marker was supposed to be, God would either keep on heading straight, or turn in apletely unexpected direction. Just when I thought I was getting used to navigating this damn ce...


    It was also getting really hard to breathe, now. I''m just d we hadn''t run into any of the Ghost People... yet. I could still hear them - their rasping, Doppler-effect breathing was echoing off every t surface, so I had no idea how many there were, or if any of them were close or not. I''d been feeling a terrible knot forming in the pit of my stomach for quite a while now, and it was only getting worse. I thought it was just nerves, but... I was getting really dizzy, as well. This was not nerves.


    "God, hang on. Stop for a second," I said, leaning against a nearby wall, and clutching my head. Thankfully, the super mutant turned, and came to a halt a few feet away from me.


    "What''s the problem, human? We need to keep moving."


    "I... I just... give me a minute to catch my breath. I think the Cloud is really getting to me, or something..."


    "You probably just need to eat." God said. "I know that I can already feel Dog''s teeth gnawing on my..." God grunted, and growled... but regained hisposure and continued. "If <em>I''m</em>hungry, I''m sure a human like you probably needs to eat something."


    "What?" I looked up at the Nightkin, I''m sure confusion was readily evident on my face. "Why would I need to eat? I mean, I haven''t been here all that long..." As soon as I said that, I realized that... yeah, it did kind of feel like hunger, now that I was focusing on it... but that didn''t make sense. Did it?


    "How long do you think you''ve been here?" God asked, narrowing his one good eye, staring at me.


    "I dunno... an hour and a half, two hours, maybe?" God was silent for a very long time. That wasn''t a good sign.


    "It''s been close to twelve hours since we left the Police Station." God stated simply.


    WHAT.


    How could I have been so stupid?


    It didn''t take all that long to find one of the vending machines. They were scattered all over the ce, and the fact that they glowed bright blue made them stand out immensely among the stark red-brown bleakness of the rest of our surroundings.


    As I approached this solitary vending machine on the far end of an empty courtyard, I thought back to all the others I''d been using. Ever since Elijah told me what they were, I''d been stopping at every one of these that I could find, picking up more ammo, more stimpacks... I hadn''t thought to get any food, though.


    Twelve hours... how the fuck could I not realize twelve hours had passed?


    I shook it off, and started scrolling through the list of avable items. Most of what was avable was just junk food - pre-war snack items that would probably kill me faster than the Cloud. mco Mac and Cheese, Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, Instamash, Potato Chips, Sugar Bombs... after scrolling through damn near everything, I found an option for a can of Pork and Bean chili, and selected that.


    Even though I''d already used these things about half a dozen times already today, I still wasn''t quite used to seeing it work. I''d press a button that was hanging in midair (and that wasn''t really a button) and then after a few seconds I''d see streams of light emerge from the center of the dish and start projecting blue holographic cubes on the tform in the center. The squares pulled themselves together, like iron filings to a ma, and I watched as they got smaller and smaller until finally the light died and in its ce was a solid can of beans, with a fork sitting next to it.


    I don''t know why this felt weird. Elijah told me these weremon before the war. Still... it was almost like making something out of nothing. It just felt a little too... science fiction.


    I popped the pull-tab on the side of the can, and pulled away the top to reveal a tin of chili that was steaming hot. That was odd. The side of the can waspletely cool to the touch, but the insides were already cooked? I grabbed the fork, dug into it, and started to eat. Less than a minuteter, the can waspletely empty. I''m not sure if it was just that I was so hungry, or if it was the fact that the machine itself created the food out of thin air, but it was the most delicious tin of beans I''d ever had. It tasted weird, but... it was a good kind of weird. It''s difficult to describe.


    I looked behind me. God was standing at the far end of the courtyard, patiently waiting for me, with his arms crossed over his chest. I was a bit surprised, if I''m honest - the way he''d been talking, I half expected him to wander off, leave me for dead as soon as he found out I hadn''t been smart enough to eat for 12 hours. But no. He was just waiting. Watching. I turned back to the vending machine, and put in a few more of the Sierra Madre chips. A momentter, I had a second can of chili.


    "Hey," I walked up to him, and handed him the spare can of beans. "You said earlier you were hungry, too. Maybe this''ll help. I mean, I know it''s not much, but I''m running low on those poker chips that power the vending machines." God didn''t say anything at first; he just stood there, looking at me through his one good eye.


    "It''s... not that kind of hunger. A can of beans smaller than my fist won''t do anything to quiet it. But... I... <em>appreciate</em> the thought."


    "So, here we are," God said. We were approaching a small gate, lit up by an overhead light and the green glow of a terminal mounted on the wall just to the right of the gate. Inside the metal gate was a small alcove, with a series of fiverge, rusted levers. A diagram was mounted on the wall to the left of the levers, and above the diagram was some graffiti: "WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW?" except half of the letters were backwards, like the graffiti I''d seen before.


    "A row of switches, all lined up. How... familiar." God growled as I scanned the area for Ghost People.


    "You''ve done this before, haven''t you?" I decided to ask as the two of us walked towards the switches. Slowly, the super mutant nodded.


    "Yes... the old man, he''s... this isn''t the first time he''s gotten into the Madre. That''s how I know the G will draw him out. However... thest time, I... wasn''t myself." I nodded, trying to piece everything together from what God was telling me and all the hints Dean had been dropping. I didn''t have all the pieces yet, but I was going to need to get them all if I was going to find a way out of here.


    "I understand," I looked at the diagram on the wall. "So, you know how to operate the levers then?"


    "I do," God paused. At first, I thought he was looking at the diagram on the wall, but - wait, were his eyes closed?


    "If you know how to operate the switches, I''m going to need you to -" God cut me off.


    "I know. But it won''t matter if Dog escapes."


    "What do you mean? I thought it was Elijah''s voice that brings out Dog. How could he escape?" I asked. God just scoffed, and growled at me.


    "The old man''s voice isn''t the only thing that brings Dog out of his cage," God turned to me, and I saw that both of his massive ham-sized fists were clenched and... trembling? "Hunger is what brings out Dog. Hunger for meat. For flesh. I can - nngh!" God shut his one good eye, and grimaced - more than usual for a super mutant - and staggered backwards, as if pushed by some unseen force. "I can already feel Dog''s teeth tearing at my ribs, hungry to get out."


    "Okay, so... we just need to feed Dog. How hard could that be?"


    I mentally kicked myself as soon as the words left my mouth. That''s one of the many, many myriad phrases that always precede disaster! I''m certain that, right before the first of the bombs fell 200 years ago, someone <strong>must</strong> have said "How hard could it be?" or "What could possibly go wrong?" or perhaps even "Watch this!"


    "Right, so the beans from before didn''t work. What kind of food should I bring back?" I asked, quickly trying to cover up my slip of the tongue.


    "Dog has torn apart a number of the Ghost People before," God said, with obvious effort. "While he doesn''t prefer them to... other flesh, it''ll do for the time being. Find some of the Ghost People, kill them, take some of the remains inside them, and then bring it back here. The beast must be fed if you want him to stay in the cage." Wonderful. So now I had to purposefully seek out the fucking zombies.


    "All right... I guess I''m going hunting then." Fuck. "I''ll see what I can find."


    "Wait!" God reached out as I started to walk away. "Before you go... you... There''s something you need to do before you leave." Before I could question, God stepped forward, clutching at one of the metal gates. "This Vi was built to decay, but parts... parts were well-defended indeed. There was a method in theyout, you can... see it. The terminal outside -" God looked over to the terminal on the wall to my right, still clutching at the gate. His hands were really shaking now. "One of those terminals means this ce was designed... properly. If you follow?"


    I nodded slowly, and made my way over to the terminal, and started typing. It was unlocked, and I started scrolling through the functions - most of them I couldn''t ess. But there was one that I could: gate control.


    "You''re right," I said. "I can lock the gate from here. It could probably keep the Ghost People out once it''s shut."


    "Or it could keep the Dog in," God growled. "I need you to lock the door... just in case I turn before you get back. If youe back." He backed away, his hands still shaking.


    "I''lle back," I said, hitting the function on the terminal to lock the door. There was a grind of metal against metal, and the doors shut with a "pchunktch!" which... sounded solid enough. "Trust me, God. I''lle back with the meat."


    "Heh... Trust? Trust is such a... <em>harsh</em> word." I could almost see God smirk as he threw my own words back at me. "I prefer... mutual need. It feels more honest."


    "Either way. I''lle back."


    Part of me didn''t want toe back.


    The more I thought about this n, and the further away I got from God, the more I just wanted to fuck off and leave him locked in there. I really, <em>really</em> didn''t want to fight any more of the Ghost People if I didn''t have to... but...


    I couldn''t just leave him in there. That wouldn''t be right. I mean, yeah... he was kind of a dick but I don''t think it''s really his fault. He''s a Nightkin with more than one personality rattling around in his head. I''m sure that if my head was crowded with more voices than just my own, <em>I''d</em> probably be just a little bit crabby with everyone.


    All around me, I could hear the sounds of Ghost People... but I couldn''t tell where they were. The only thing I could see were high walls surrounding the narrow, winding streets that I was sneaking through... but none of those gas-mask zombies. Isn''t that just typical? When I wanted to find them, they weren''t around.


    Beep.


    Fuck. There must be a speaker around somewhere... And then it hit me. If I couldn''t find the Ghost People, maybe I could use this as a way to get the Ghost People toe to me. I scanned the rooftops, and then I saw the speaker: there was a white light mounted on the third floor of a building behind and to the left of me. Great, it wasn''t shielded. The beeping around my neck started getting faster, so I pulled out the revolver from under my arm, took aim, and fired. There was a st of phosphor, and the speaker exploded in a shower of sparks.


    The sounds around me instantly changed. The beeping from my neck stopped, but the sounds of the Ghost People echoing off the walls all around me just got louder. I holstered the pistol as quick as I could and grabbed hold of the spear on my back. I looked around for a hiding spot - there, off to my left! A doorway that wasn''t barred shut. I ducked into the shadows, and switched my eyes to nightvision.


    And not a moment too soon. There was a thud from outside, followed swiftly by the erratic movements of one of the Ghost People. The hooded beast was scanning the area with its glowing green lenses, and in its hand was... was that a kitchen knife? I looked on the end of my spear, and realized he was holding the same kind of knifes that was taped to the end of my spear. I looked up just in time to see... a <em>second</em> Ghost Person following the first. It was one of the hood-less Ghost People wearing a bear trap on the end of its fist.


    I watched the two of them pass, and waited for a minute or so... I didn''t see any more pass by. Very carefully, I crept out of the shadows and started to follow them. They were spaced further out from one another now; the one with the kitchen knife had gone down a side street to the left, and the ghost trapper kept going straight on.


    I crept up right behind the ghost trapper, and readied the spear in my hands towards his back. The Doppler breathing was heavy in my ears... but it wasn''t erratic, which meant it didn''t realize I was right behind it. Let''s change that.


    I whistled softly. Instantly, its head perked up, and it twisted around to face me, staring at me through its green lenses. It tried to ready its bear trap hand, but I thrust the spear forward with all my might, and caught it in the neck. I threw all my weight into the Ghost Person by way of the spear - which was embedded halfway through its neck - and the next thing I knew, it was on the ground, writhing around underneath the spear shoved in its neck.


    My vision blurred, and I was knocked off my feet. The entire left side of my body felt like it had been hit with a truck; the wheezing next to my ear just confirmed that the other Ghost Person had tackled me. I didn''t really have time to feel surprise at being blindsided so easily. Nor did I have time to worry about the state of my ass or my back after having been shoved against the cobbled streets so hard. All I really had time to feel was the intense searing pain of a kitchen knife getting shoved into my right shoulder.


    I''m sure I screamed. I must have. I mean, the kitchen knife was as long as my forearm, and it had just gone straight through my arm all the way to the street behind me like it wasn''t there. The glowing green lenses of the Ghost Person just stared down at me, green smoke pouring from the filter on its face.


    My right arm was too pinned by the knife to be any use, so Ished out with everything else I had. I tried furiously punching it in the side of it''s head with my left fist, and trying to kick and knee it off of me. No matter what I tried, nothing was working - it wouldn''t budge. I had to think of something - and fast. I could already feel lightheaded, and the edges of my vision start to blur.


    I grabbed hold of the kitchen knife - over the Ghost Person''s hand - and positioned my elbow right underneath its gas mask. It just cocked its head to the side, watching me as I did this, but doing nothing except keeping the knife firmly embedded in my shoulder. I took both my feet, nted them as firmly as I could against the abdomen of the Ghost Person, and summoned up as much strength as I could to shove him off me. I felt the grip around the knife loosen just enough - and I gave one final shove, with more than I thought I had in me. The Ghost Person staggered up and away from me, leaving itself wide open... so I grabbed hold of the knife in my shoulder, and pulled.


    My world erupted in pain. Intense agony doesn''t even really begin to do justice to what I felt. I honestly don''t know how I even stayed conscious - massive blood loss is supposed to make you pass out, right? I could tell I was losing a lot of blood; as soon as I pulled out the knife, it was like the Yosemite Falls of blood pouring out of my shoulder.


    I didn''t have time to focus on that, though - all I could see (apart from red) was the fucking zombie in front of me in desperate need of killing. I summoned thest little bit of my strength, and surged forward, knife clutched tight in my left hand and at the ready. It felt like time slowed down, even though I knew I hadn''t activated V.A.T.S... either that, or even the Ghost Person didn''t expect someone bleeding that heavily to get back up, because it just seemed to stay there long enough for me to bury the knife into the middle of its face - right between the eyes - all the way up to the handle.


    I let go of the knife, hoping that would be enough to kill it... but no. It was still moving. Stumbling backward away from me and clumsily clutching at its face, sure, but it was still standing. I was breathing heavy. I couldn''t feel my right arm. And I was way too tired to have to deal with this shit. I shrugged my left shoulder, and grabbed the holorifle in my left hand. This was going to be a bit awkward, but hey - needs must, right? Aiming was probably going to be a very bad idea, so instead, I just walked up to the Ghost Person and buried the aperture end of the holorifle square in the middle of its chest.


    "Fuck." I pulled the trigger, fully expecting some kind of recoil - forgetting that it had none. Instead, all I got was a massive white sh that obscured my vision for half a second, and a mechanical clunk so loud that it kept ringing in my ears for several minutes after I fired. My nose was filled with what smelled like burning sulfur, mixed with potassium and copper.


    "You." When the sh died down and I could see again, the Ghost Person was still standing in front of me, covered in that same strange blue aura with the slowly evaporating blue holo-cubes that I''d seen before. What I didn''t expect was the roughly square-shaped hole right in the middle of its chest. The hole went all the way through to the other side, and it looked like both the chemical suit and the Ghost Person''s innards were singed, almost fused together. It didn''t really move... it just sort of wobbled unsteadily, blue cubes slowly drifting away from its body like smoke... and then it copsed backwards,pletely still.


    This holorifle was turning into the strangest weapon I''d ever used. I mean, it was built off an old pump-action grenadeuncher, but it was an energy weapon... and based on the evidence I''d just seen, it acted more like a shotgun at close range than an energy weapon <em>or</em> a grenadeuncher. This was... I mean... I... I...


    Right, starting to get really quite lightheaded now. Time to try and fix this. I shouldered the rifle, and started searching around the various pockets on my armor, trying to remember where I was keeping my stimpacks. It should have been easy - I knew that I kept them in arge pouch on my right side, underneath the satchel I''d found to hold the microfusion cells. However, couple mypletely useless right arm, the room spin I was starting to feel, and the fact that the edges of my vision were starting to get really red... that wasn''t quite as easy as it sounds.


    Clunk.


    There was a noise from behind me. I''m sure of it. Still fumbling around half blind, I turned, and started backing away from the noise. I couldn''t really believe what was making the sound... no, that''s not true. I could believe it, especially after everything else I''d seen here. I just didn''t want to.


    The Ghost Person with the bear trap on the end of its arm was standing up, with the spear still jammed halfway through its neck. The bear trap was primed and ready to close on whoever was unfortunate enough to still be in the way.


    Not good. This was very, very not good. I started backing up as fast as I could, still trying to find thetch. The Ghost Person following me, however... it was advancing, but it''s erratic movements were slower than usual. The spear must have been doing something to slow it down. There was a strange scraping sound - the blunt end of the spear was catching on the potholes and stones in the pavement. It was so single-minded that it must not have thought to try and break the spear off or remove it .


    I found thetch, reached inside, and grabbed one of the syringes. The Ghost Person in front of me stumbled a bit, so I continued backing up, clutched the stic cover over the needle with my teeth, and jammed it into my shoulder right above the gushing wound. I''d never tried to administer a stimpack on the move before, so I had no idea if this was going to work or not... but about a second or two after injecting myself in the shoulder, my wound stopped gushing blood and seemed to close up.


    Alright, that''s one problem. Time to deal with the other.


    I shrugged my left shoulder again, and grabbed the holorifle. The Ghost Person was getting perilously close to me now - the blunt end of the spear was tapping against the ground as it advanced on me - but that just meant I couldn''t miss. I held the rifle up, and let the Ghost Person practically walk into the end of it. Things were starting to go well - I already wasn''t feeling as lightheaded. I pulled the trigger and...


    Click.


    Oh, right. I need to eject the spent microfusion cell, don''t I?


    The Ghost Person didn''t waste any time. It reared back with the bear trap, ready and close enough to easily hit me in the chest - or take my arm off. I didn''t waste time either. In one swift motion, I raised the end of the rifle as quickly as I could, and moved out of the way of the iing bear trap. The end of the barrel smacked the Ghost Person under the chin with a resounding "THWACK!" and that was just enough to throw it off bnce. It ended up hopping off to the side, the blunt end of the spear catching several times on the uneven cobbled road below it. Any other circumstances, I''m sure that would''ve been quiteical. Frankly, I was just d I had some time (even if it was only a few seconds) to breathe.


    My right arm, thankfully, was starting to tingle, and I could feel it again. I tried flexing my hand - my fingers could curl up into a fist and open again, which was good enough. I switched the rifle from my left to my right hand, pumped the spent cell out of the gun, and buried the end of it against the side of the hobbling Ghost Person''s head.


    Part of me wanted to say something witty or clever - some kind of snappy one liner right before killing it. But I didn''t. I just stayed quiet, pulled the trigger, and watched as well over half of the Ghost Person''s head just disappeared into a molten mess - reduced to nothing by a hologram gun that fired cubes.


    I looked around. The ringing in my ears was still so bad, I couldn''t tell if there were any more of the Ghost People around. I pumped the holorifle again, and kept scanning the rooftops.


    "Well?" I said aloud. "Who else wants a go? Any more of you fucks want a piece of me? Cuz now''s the time, assholes! I got enough for all''ve ya!"


    Silence.


    "Yeah, that''s what I thought. Punks." I reached down and pulled the spear out of the Ghost Person''s neck. Then I went over to the other Ghost Person, and pulled the kitchen knife out of its face... and set to work carving them up.


    "Oh, for the love of..." I blurted out about halfway through my grisly task. "And here I thought they smelled bad... on the OUTSIDE!"


    Schtlunk.


    I tossed the makeshift sack full of... ''meat''... towards the closed metal gate. Well... it wasn''t really a sack. It was the jacket from one of the chemical suits the Ghost People wore, shoved full of all the carved-up body parts I could fit in it. The super mutant was inside of the alcove, sitting on the ground like he had been at the Police Station. He was hanging his head, but he perked up when the sack hit the ground.


    "There," I said, pointing at the sack, and moving to the terminal. "That should be enough meat." I scrolled through the functions, and the gate unlocked with a click. The meat shifted after the gate moved, and fell to the ground with a wet ''splutch'' God very carefully got up, and made his way over to the bag of meat.


    "Heh... You''re good at fetching, aren''t you?" The super mutant growled, digging into the bag of white, foul smelling meat.


    "Yeah, well. I was a courier, back in the world. I <em>should</em> be good at ''fetching'' things, right?" God chuckled, and kept eating. He cast a nce up at me.


    "You look awful, human," I looked down, and... yeah, he kind of had a point. My hands and feet were absolutely covered in the white liquid that I could only assume was the Ghost People''s blood... except for my right arm, which was covered in <em>my</em> blood.


    "They didn''t go down without a fight," I said, shrugging. I wished I hadn''t; my right shoulder was still sore. I rubbed my shoulder. "So, is that gonna be enough?"


    "Yes..." God tore off a piece of meat, and chewed it for a few seconds. "This should keep him where he belongs. For now."


    "Good." I said. "Good. So, are you going to be alright while I get everyone else into position?"


    "I''ll wait," God stood up to his full height, picking up the bag of meat and tossing it further into the alcove. "Send the signal. I''ll be... <em>we''ll</em> be ready.


    Dean was sitting on the edge of the fountain, still smoking like a chimney when I finally found my way back to the center of town.


    "Well, now, if it isn''t my ball, chain, and dog cor all rolled into one," Dean said, smoke hanging around his head. "What can I do for you?"


    "Do you know where the woman is?" I asked. I kind of felt bad. I kept calling her ''the mute'' or ''the mute woman'' or whatever... but it''s not like I could ask her real name. Dean just shook his head, and pointed with his cigarette.


    "Figures that you''re not here for me. She''s in her little hide away on the far end of the courtyard." He took onest draw of his cigarette, tossed it away... and reached into his coat for another pack.


    "Where the fuck do you keep finding smokes?" I asked. "The way you light up, I would''ve figured this ce would''ve run out decades ago."


    "Sinir''s little toy boxes." He said, lighting a new cigarette.


    "Wait, what?"


    "The littlepany stores I''m sure you''ve seen around. Put in a casino chip, get a treat, like you''re a dog doing tricks."


    "The vending machines? They sell cigarettes?" Dean gave a simple nod, putting away his lighter. I tried to think back - had I seen any options for cigarettes on the vending machine menus? I couldn''t remember.


    "Machines like those weren''t unusual before the Bomb. Maybe to you, they''re amazing. But to me?" Dean inhaled deeply, andughed softly, smoke pouring out of his mouth and the holes where his nose was supposed to be. "To me, they''re grifters without the personality."


    "Grifters?" I asked. Dean nodded.


    "Yes. A grifter. A con-man. A huckster. A hustler. A swindler." I held up my hand to shut Dean up.


    "Alright, enough. What are you getting at?" I asked. Dean just smirked.


    "Sinir made sure that if you spent money here, it went one way - although, that''s not how he described it."


    "And how did he describe it?"


    "He called it ''self-sufficient.'' Like he was doing the residents a favor," Dean shook his head again. "Right..." Dean blew a smoke ring, and directed a one-finger salute off to the north - towards the casino. "Go and find the mute, already. I''ll just stay here, lounging in the lovely autumn sun until you get back."


    I honestly couldn''t tell if Dean was just being snide, or if he''d gone insane.


    Yeah... he was just being snide.


    10

 Chapter 48: Mixed Signals

    Chapter 48: Mixed Signals


    I knocked several times on the door. There was no answer. I looked around to check - yeah, this was the building where the mute woman had set up shop. I rapped on the door with the back of my knuckles again. Still no response. This was starting to get slightly worrying.


    "Hey, uh..." I hesitated, not knowing what to call her... "Are you in there?"


    There was a soft thud from behind me. I didn''t have time to think - I just acted. I pulled the holorifle off my back and whirled around, pointing it at what had made the noise. I''m just d I didn''t pull the trigger, because the mute woman was standing there, looking at me with an exhausted expression.


    "Oh..." I lowered the rifle when I realized who it was. "Sorry. Thought... yeah, I thought you were one of the Ghost People." The mute woman shrugged. She really didn''t seem all that fazed that I''d just held her at gunpoint.


    "Just a bit jumpy then, are we?" I heard Dean call out from his seat on the fountain.


    "Shut the fuck up, Dean." I yelled back at him. I shook my head, and turned back to the mute woman. "You ready to go?"


    She gave a curt nod, and started walking away... that''s when I noticed she had more weapons than when I''d left earlier. There was a spear strapped to her back, like mine, and a knife was stuck in her belt. On her hip was a pistol, and... hang on, the automatic rifle was gone. She was carrying a hunting rifle slung over her shoulder.


    "New gear?" I asked. She stopped in her tracks, turning back to nod at me. "Where''d the big gun go?" She mimed a shing motion with her thumb across her neck several times, and then pointed over her shoulder with the same thumb.


    "You got rid of it?" She nodded. "What for?" She held up the hunting rifle, miming the same aiming-at-nothing motion she''d done before, and then gave me a thumbs up after she lowered the rifle. "Better shot with that then, huh?" She nodded.


    "Alright, fair enough."


    I think I was finally getting the hang of moving along the rooftops. Granted, I was still pretty useless at getting up there in the first ce, but... I''d like to see you try and climb up a drainpipe covered in slimy industrial pollutants that''ll slowly kill you.


    I''m just d the Cloud seemed thinner up here. Better still, there weren''t any Ghost People up here, either. Things didn''t really start to get difficult until the speaker on my Pip Boy crackled to life.


    "There - the switching station," Elijah''s voice was peppered with static. "That''s where you''ll need to bring the mute." There was an especially loud burst of static, and then silence. I''m just d I had the sense of mind to put a hand over the speaker to muffle the noise as soon as I heard static.


    The mute woman scowled at my Pip Boy - and frankly I didn''t me her for being mad. Here we were, sessfully sneaking along the rooftops, being quiet as a pair of ghosts, and Elijah... ugh. I couldn''t help but sigh.


    Right, if Elijah was opening his fat trap, that must mean we''re close to the objective. I looked around, and realized that off to the north was arge four story building - and based on the map marker on my Pip Boy, thatrge building was where we needed to be.


    "Okay," I whispered to the mute woman, looking around at the outside of the building. "I think that''s the objective. Do you see any way inside?" There was a tap on my shoulder, I saw her arm move past my head to point at something. I followed where she was pointing, and saw a massive gaping hole in one of the walls... about four stories high, on apletely t wall. There weren''t any overhangs or parapets or anything nearby that we could use to even get close to the hole.


    "Yeah.. I don''t think that''s going to work. If we can''t find anything else, we cane back to it." She gave a nod, and the two of us kept moving along the rooftops... It wasn''t long until I started to hear the familiar (and wholly unpleasant) sound of ragged breathing passed through a filter and echoing off every wall. There were Ghost People nearby.


    The mute woman came to a stop near the edge of the roof and crouched down, holding up a fist in the air. She raised two fingers from her fist and beckoned me toe closer... I made my way to the edge, carefully and quietly, and peered over the edge.


    Below us was a small courtyard, ringed on all sides by a series of ledges, and a staircase which looked like it led up into the building we needed to get into. Scattered all around the courtyard, however, were at least <em>five</em> of the Ghost People. Two of them were kneeling, apparently enraptured by something fascinating on the ground; the others were jerkily walking around the courtyard with des, bear traps, and spears in hand.


    "Fuck," I breathed. The mute woman nodded slowly, apparently agreeing with the sentiment. We needed to get to that staircase, and those Ghost People had to be dealt with... somehow. I don''t think the holorifle would work - I could only fire four shots at a time, and that was pretty useless with five of them there... plus, I needed to be awful close for the shot to kill them outright - otherwise, they''d just stand right back up. The revolver under my arm was useless against the Ghost People, and the spear on my back... again, I needed to get awful close to chop their limbs off. I''d probably be able to kill one - maybe two if I was lucky and the mute woman helped - but then the rest would undoubtedly jump us. And who knows how many others were there that we couldn''t see?


    That''s when I remembered: I still had three grenades. I pulled one of them off my armor, and got ready to throw it... but I hesitated. The five Ghost People were grouped pretty close together, but even though I was sure I couldnd the grenade right in the center of them, I <em>wasn''t</em> sure that they would all be caught in the st. And the more I thought about it, the noise from the grenade exploding would be sure to bring more Ghost People out of the woodwork.


    But... that gave me an idea.


    I backed away from the edge, and looked south. We were high enough that I could see a cluster of buildings on either side of a small alleyway about 200 yards away - perfect target. The mute woman was looking at me strangely - and even more when I pulled the pin, and tossed the grenade south, right into the alley with all my might. It sailed through the air like a baseball, and disappeared into the distance between the buildings. A few seconds after disappearing, there was a muffled "THWUMP!"


    I peered down over the rooftop''s edge just in time. Ever single one of the Ghost People in the courtyard stopped what they were doing and their heads snapped towards the direction of the noise. It was eerie - when they moved their heads they were perfectly synchronized, almost like they were acting with one mind. One by one, the Ghost People got up, and started shambling out of the courtyard towards the distant noise. After a minute or two, the courtyard was empty, and I didn''t see any more of the zombies follow.


    "Right," I whispered to the mute woman. "Let''s go." As usual, my skills at dismounting from the roof were not graceful in the least - but at least this time I didn''t fall t on my ass. There were enough ledges and balconies that I never had to drop more than a single story at a time. The mute woman, on the other hand - she just leapt from the roof, grabbed a gpole sticking out of one of the windows, and swung off it -nding gracefully halfway up the stairs. I was only at the base of the stairs by the time shended.


    "Showoff..." I muttered under my breath and followed her up the stairs. At the top, there was only one way to go - a small alleyway with a door off to the right, leading into the building. To the left was a small alley filled with a thick nket of the red Cloud. It was like a wall of the red poison, boiling and churning in front of me, burning my eyes the closer I strayed. There were several pipesing out of the nearby wall above us, and I could see - the thick concentration of Cloud was spilling out of a damaged pipe above us.


    "C''mon, let''s go." I said... but from behind me, I heard an echoing choir of ragged breathing. I wheeled around, grabbing the holorifle off my back. Inside the Cloud, I saw three pairs of glowing green eyes. They were slowly advancing towards us.


    "Go!" I said to the woman behind me, aiming the rifle at the closest pair of eyes. "Get inside, GO!" The first of the Ghost People walked into the open air, the Cloud peeling away from its body like it was stepping through a waterfall. The holorifle discharged with a loud clunk and a bright sh; the Ghost Person was hit by a shower of blue cubes, falling backwards into the Cloud. I started backing up towards the door, pumping the holorifle and ejecting a spent cell when the other two Ghost People stepped into the open air. I looked down... and with a mounting sense of horror and dread realized that one of them was dragging along one of those gas bottle bombs.


    "Oh, fuck that!" I said, firing onest time in the vague direction of the advancing Ghost People and running for the door. The mute woman was inside, holding the door open and waving at me to get inside. I ran as fast as I could, grabbing the edge of therge metal door as I passed the threshold. The two of us pushed against it, and just before we forced it closed, I caught a glimpse of the gas bomb sailing through the air towards us.


    The door shut, and I pushed against it with my shoulder; the mute woman did too, and together we kept it closed like it had been welded shut. The door and the ground shook, and there was a tremendous noise, but the door held. I looked around - there were a few metal shelves nearby, filled with scrap metal and toolboxes. I got off the door, urging the mute woman to do the same, and grabbed the shelf, shoving it against the door and up under the door handle. She got the idea, and grabbed a second one, piling it on top of the first, bracing the two of them against the floor.


    "That should hold them for a while," I hope. There was a loud bang that made me jump - it sounded like the Ghost People were pounding against the door now. I started looking around, trying to find anything else that we could pile up against the door, when I heard another noise - metal grinding against metal. I looked back - and realized that one of those kitchen knives I''d seen all over the ce was sticking <em>through</em> the door.


    "Oh what the HELL!" I shouted. I looked around for anything else to shove against the door as a barricade. "That door has to be 2 inches of solid steel - at least! What the fuck are those knives made of?!" I looked back at the mute woman just in time to see her throw a trash can at me. I caught it, and shoved it up against the door, between the shelves. The banging against the door continued, but the knife stayed where it was; I didn''t see any others.


    "Fuck..." I tried to steady my breathing. "That exins how it went through my shoulder so easy... damn." I backed away from the door, and reached into the pouch on my side for more microfusion cells. I was able to rece the two cells I''d spent, but... yeah, I was starting to run low on ammo. I''m gonna have to find more MF cells soon, or else I''m going to end up stuck.


    I started looking around the room. It looked like a server room, with various pieces of brokenputers and a few desks scattered around. The mute woman was looking around as well; her eyes darted around the walls and the ceiling. She nced at the exit, and took a slow breath. I noticed that a few droplets of sweat had appeared on her brow; I took a hand to my own forehead, and realized I was sweating as well. When had that happened?


    I looked down at my Pip Boy, and tried to figure out where to go from here. If nothing else, it would help me drown out the Ghost People pounding on the door. Then I realized - the only real light in the room wasing from my Pip Boy. There were a few emergency lights, glowing a dim red, but... I looked around, seeing another metal door off to my right. It looked like the kind that slid into the floor; there was another dim red light above the door. It looked like that was the only door that would lead deeper into the building - and knowing my luck, the door was locked.


    "Do you see a fuse box or a switch or something?" I asked, looking around. If we could get the power back on, that might open the door. I heard a fingersnap off to my left; I turned to see the woman pointing at what was unmistakably a circuit box on the wall. I walked up to it, and saw some graffiti on the wall: "LISTEN BEFORE YOU LOSE AHEAD"


    "Yeah, that''s subtle..." I ripped open the box and took a look inside. "Hmm... yeah, I think somebody... somebody must have tried to jury rig this thing in the past, and it''s all fallen apart. Did an ape do all this?" It looked like there were more splices than wires. It was bad but... all I had to do was a few quick adjustments... reroute a few wires... plug in a sensor module... and...


    There was a clunk, followed by a series of low hums as the overhead lights started to switch on. Off to the side, the red light over the door turned green, and the door slid down into the floor.


    "Finally, some good news." The mute woman looked at me with a questioning eyebrow. I shrugged. "Yeah, I don''t believe myself, either. But hey - gotta try and stay positive, right?" She just rolled her eyes.


    I finally got a good look beyond the door. It led into a hallway, but painted on the wall was a white arrow, pointing up and to the right. It didn''t take a genius to figure out what was up - especially with the "lose ahead" graffiti next to the circuit box. I pulled the revolver out from under my arm, and motioned for the mute woman to stay back. And sure enough, I didn''t take more than two steps towards the door when...


    Beep.


    I rushed inside, and looked up where the arrow was pointing. The ceiling was a clusterfuck of wires and cables, and hidden in the corner almost out of sight was a speaker. I aimed, shielded my eyes, and squeezed the trigger. I felt the sparks from the exploding speaker bounce off my hand, and the beeping around my neck went silent.


    "This is going to take a while, isn''t it?"


    This ce felt like a fucking maze.


    I thought the streets outside were bad. This ce, though... it was nothing but narrow corridors, winding stairs, and twisting bends. Every now and again, my cor would start beeping, but there were enough graffiti arrows around - and amazingly, they actually pointed towards the speakers, letting me find them so I could shoot them.


    It kind of made me wonder: All the graffiti I''d seen in this building so far had actually been <em>helpful</em>. When was the other shoe going to drop? I didn''t have too long to think about that, however, because the twisting, turning hallway spat the mute woman and me onto a metal walkway overlooking a cavernous room.


    "Damn," I let out a loud whistle, looking down over the railing. "That''s... that''s not good." The mute woman nodded, looking over the railing as well. The two of us were standing on one of several metal catwalks suspended from the ceiling, and surrounding us were severalrge machines, humming and thrumming, making everything in the room vibrate. There was, however, one small issue...


    I couldn''t see the floor. Everything below us waspletely covered by <em>Cloud</em>. That red poison was rolling and bubbling and churning... it almost looked like dirty red water being boiled instead of gas. There was so much of it, just being this close made my eyes water. The mute woman nodded at the massive pool of toxic Cloud below us, and made a walking motion with her fingers.


    "Do you see any way across?" I asked. My initial assessment of the room was simply the tform we were standing on, and the veritable ocean of toxic Cloud below us, with no visible signs of where to cross. I felt the mute woman tap me on the shoulder, and point off to the right - snaking its way between two of the giant machines poking out of the Cloud was a narrow walkway that stretched from one end of the cavernous room to the other.


    "Doesn''t look like we have much choice, does it?" I asked. The mute woman just shook her head. "Well... needs must."


    As soon as I stepped on the walkway connecting the two sides of the room, I almost wished I hadn''t. All it took for it to start creaking and groaning was one foot on the metal. It was bad enough being this close to the Cloud right below my feet was making my eyes water - I was afraid to cough, for fear of the vibrations shaking the walkway loose.


    The whole walkway rattled and squealed under ourbined weight when the mute woman followed me. I honestly had no idea how much she weighed, but I knew that with me, my armor, all the weapons I was carrying, <em>her</em> armor, and all the weapons SHE was carrying... The walkway gave another heavy, ominous sounding groan. I looked up and around, trying to pinpoint just where the noise wasing from - it sounded like one of the metal support struts suspending the catwalk from the ceiling.


    I cycled my eyes into night vision so I could get a better look up into the ceiling. Immediately, I saw the real problem and I could practically feel all the color escape my face: there was only a single strut still connected. All the rest had either been rusted away at the joint, or were simply missing altogether.


    "Shit!" I said aloud, looking back down at the mute woman; she was holding both handrails and was looking back at me questioningly. "We gotta get off! This thing is holding on by an ass hair!" I grabbed her by the shoulder and urged her past me. I looked back up into the darkness, my eyes fixed on thatst strut. I started backing up after she passed me, and I realized that every movement was shaking thatst hinge loose to a worrying degree.


    "Fuck it. Roll the dice!" I turned round and started running for the other side. The mute woman was already there, and had a hand extended towards me. I felt the whole tform wobble and bounce with every footfall. Every fiber in my being was hoping and praying to a God I didn''t believe in that I could make it to the other side before the whole tform gave out under my feet.


    That''s about when the tform gave out from under my feet.


    I reached out to try and grab her hand, but the further I tried to reach, the further away I fell. It felt like the pit of my stomach had dropped out - probably because my feet were no longer touching anything. I found myself in the unenviable situation of falling backwards from a considerable height. I desperately tried to grab something - anything - to keep me from falling into the Cloud, but it was useless. It didn''t feel like gas; it almost felt like I was being consumed and surrounded by soup. The only thing that went through my mind before I was swallowed up by the glutinous mass of poison was something Elijah had said to me earlier:


    <em>"I''ve seen some survive concentration of the Cloud for short periods of time if healthy enough - others were too weak."</em>


    My back mmed into the ground, but I didn''t have time to feel any pain - at least, not any pain from the impact. Every part of my skin - even the parts under my clothing and armor - was on fire. It was like hot coals were being jammed into every square inch of my flesh, and then raked across my skin. My eyes started watering, and my nose and mouth started leaking - I couldn''t tell if it was mucus or blood flooding out of my face. My throat started seizing up - but then again, it''s not like there was any air down here to breathe anyway.


    That wasn''t the worst thing, though. Whatever was in the Cloud, it was affecting the cybeics in my eyes. They kept cycling every few seconds from normal (which was nothing but swirling red peppered with flecks of ck and brown), to nightvision, to thermal, to EM, and back again. It was so disorienting and dizzying that I wasn''t sure if it was the seizure inducing visuals (or the Cloud) that was making my head throb like someone was repeatedly hitting me upside the skull with a hammer.


    I vaguely remember grasping at the railing of the walkway that had fallen into the Cloud with me. I was fumbling around half blind, and every part of me felt like it was ready to burst. By the time I mmed into the wall, the tightness in my throat had grown, and now it was my whole chest that was seizing up. My upper torso felt like it was caught in a vice, while it felt like my gut was being twisted and tied up in knots. My neck was dripping wet now from all the fluids leaking out of my face.


    I caught a glimpse of something ahead of me when my eyes switched to thermal. The Cloud didn''t generate any heat, but whatever it was, it was picking up and reflecting the heat from the machines all around me. I didn''t know what it was, but whatever it was, it was vertical, and in the brief instant I caught sight of it, it looked like it headed up out of the Cloud. Frantically, I rushed as fast as I could through the soupy Cloud toward it, and almost tripped over myself in my desperation. My head was swimming, I couldn''t breathe, I couldn''t see, and waves of nausea washed over all my insides.


    I crashed headfirst into what I''d been stumbling toward, and realized it was metal. I grabbed hold of it - which is a lot harder than it sounds when it feels like your hands are about to fall off, believe me - and tried to climb. My feet crashed into something about knee high and I realized what I was holding onto: a staircase. I scrambled up the stairs, climbing higher and higher until...


    My head burst out of the Cloud and into the (rtively) clean air. I gasped, and tried to pull myself free of the dense toxic Cloud. I grabbed at the holes in the metal and pulled myself free. It still felt like every orifice in my face was leaking, and the knot in my gut was so horrendous I was sure that I was on the verge of vomiting. I could already feel something inside me churning, and trying to surge its way to the surface.


    I felt a pair of hands grab the back of my armor and under my right shoulder, pulling me up out of the Cloud further. I tried looking around, but I could barely see. For some reason, everything still looked slightly red... or was it pink? Were my eyes bleeding? I couldn''t tell. I could feel myself being twisted around, and the back of my head mmed into the metal grating of the floor.


    My skin was still on fire, like I''d been stung by a million radscorpions... it still felt like my face was leaking... my vision was blurring and starting to...


    What was she...


    Was it...


    HOLYSONOFAGODDAMNMOTHERFUCKINGOH WHAT THE HELL!


    My eyes snapped open, and I felt myself spasm, but I didn''t feel like I had any control over my movements. At least, not initially. My skin was no longer on fire; in fact, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water all over me, and was flooding into all of my insides. Was I screaming? Why was I screaming? When I finally regained control of my arms and legs, I sat up, and grabbed at anything nearby, not really knowing what I was clutching at. I could tell that my eyes were open - I could feel that much - but I still couldn''t quite see anything. I tried to will my vision back into focus, and eventually my sight started to slowly return.


    Sitting across from me with the bag full of stimpacks open in herp was the mute woman. Between myself and her, I could see the chest armor that I should have been wearing open and discarded on the catwalk we were both sitting on. Even she looked shaken. I tried to follow her gaze.. was she was staring at the middle of my chest?


    When I looked down, I realized why she was staring: the jumpsuit I''d been wearing under the k armor was open, and sticking out of the middle of my chest was the barrel of a stimpack. It looked like the needle had been jammed right through my breastte and into my heart.


    I kept looking down at the stimpack sticking out of my chest, and if I''m honest? It took me a minute for my brain to register what I was seeing and to recognize the significance of what had just happened.


    "Huh," I finally managed to force out through my ragged and heavy breathing. "That''s... d-different."


    The air between the two of us was even more silent than usual for a very, very long time.


    The mute woman had taken the lead. It hadn''t taken me all that long to collect all my armor and gear, but... the whole experience had left me rather shaken. Especially when I had to pull the needle out of the middle of my chest. That''s an odd feeling, let me tell you - especially, since the hole in my chest didn''t bleed.


    I looked down at my hands, and realized that I was still, literally, shaking. I clenched both hands into fists to try and calm them down. Before I knew it, we were in another room, surrounded by lockers and desks, and sticking out of the wall was a RobCo terminal. The mute woman had stopped, and was looking around.


    "Hey," I spoke up, my voice sounding odd - a bit ragged, perhaps? "I just... I wanted to say thanks." The mute woman looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. "No, seriously. I would''ve been fucked if you hadn''t saved my ass back there. So... thanks for that."


    The mute woman just shook her head, and tried to hold back a smirk. She waved me off, and looked over at the terminal on the far side of the room. I nodded, looking around. If she was going to check the terminal, I was going to have a look around, see if there was anything useful.


    There really wasn''t much. Most of it was just scrap metal and a few sensor modules and fusion batteries. I did find a few microfusion cells... two, but hey. Better than nothing. The weirdest thing I found, though, was a piece of paper that fluttered out of one of the lockers and onto the floor when I opened the door. I unfolded it and took a look.


    <em>To: William Ennis</em>


    <em>From: Konrad Simmons</em>


    <em>Damn it, Ennis! How many times do I have to tell you? The password for the Remote Maintenance Terminal is T7GF0SEW</em>


    Before I could make any sense of it, there was a small something that sailed through the air and struck me in the side of the head. I looked down to see a Sierra Madre chip on the ground; I guess the mute woman was trying to get my attention, since she was pointing at the terminal.


    "You found something?" I said (after not so subtly picking up the chip and putting it with the others). She tapped the screen and gave me a thumbs up. I looked close, and saw...


    "Venttion system?" I asked. She nodded, and hit the enter key. Off to the west, beyond another metal sliding door, I heard an immensely loud clunk, followed by a quickly building whine.


    "Huh... if that sound''s what I think it is, then maybe this''ll get rid of the Cloud in the rest of the building." The mute woman nodded, and gave another thumbs up. "Hell, maybe if we''re lucky it''ll clear out some of the Cloud from outside?" Her smile evaporated, and she just looked at me coldly. "Nah, you''re right. We''re not that lucky."


    I checked the map on my Pip Boy for what had to be the fifth time. ording to the map, this was the ce. The two of us were in another cavernous room like before, except this one had no Cloud - obviously the venttion had worked - and she and I were in a small metal office built into the side of the wall overlooking all the machines in the room.


    Aside from the empty doorways that exited out to the other catwalks, there was only one other door, and that looked like the entrance to a service elevator. The mute woman was looking at the elevator uneasily, making a pulling motion with her hand.


    "Alright," I said, looking up from my Pip Boy. "ording to the notes Elijah put on my Pip Boy''s map, there''s a manual bypass room in the basement directly below us. That''s where the power can be regted, and I think that''s where you need to go." The mute woman''s eyes went wide, and she nced back at the elevator. Her expression became worried, and then she looked back at me.


    "What''s the problem?" She looked back at me with an expression dripping with annoyance tinged with fear, and she gestured at the elevator. She made a few choking motions with her hands around her neck, and I saw her neck move like she was gulping - but, as usual, she made no sound.


    It took me a minute, but I figured out what she was getting at eventually. That auto-doc that cut out her vocals cords was probably... well, I can only imagine what it would be like to be trapped in a metal casket with surgical implements pointing at me for hours. No wonder she liked travelling on the rooftops. I''d hate confined spaces after that as well.


    "Alright, I think I understand. Let me see if I can find another way to do this without sending you down there." She smiled in relief and nodded at me. She opened her mouth slightly, but then closed it, frustrated. She pointed at me, then made a fist, pounding it against her chest armor with a nod.


    Alright, I''ve got to figure this out somehow. Power regtion was the important thing here, and that probably meant some kind of terminal. Maybe that other terminal that activated the venttion system would have ess of some kind? I was about to leave and backtrack back to the other terminal when a glint of something caught my eye.


    "Hold on a second, what''s that?" It was something on the desk that was shoved up against a window... but it wasn''t actually on it. It was sort of... <em>embedded</em> into the desk itself: some kind of indentation, almost like a button. I shrugged, and pushed it. There was a whirr, a clunk, and a panel in the desk opened up, and a RobCo terminal - a different model, and in much better shape than most of the terminals I''d seen so far - started rising up out of the desk. The mute woman was looking over my shoulder by now, interested by this turn of events.


    "I think this... yeah, I think this might work. Hang on a second." I pulled out the chair and sat down, booting up the terminal. There was a series of clicks that came from the interior casing as theputer slowly warmed up, and loaded the RobCo Unified OS. The screen shed, and I was greeted with a simple message:


    <em>Puesta del Sol Remote Maintenance Terminal</em>


    <em>Please Enter Password</em>


    I was just about to type in the "SET TERMINAL/INQUIRE"mand to start running the debug procedure that would allow me to hack into it when I remembered: would I need to? I started searching around in my pockets, looking for that scrap of paper I''d found earlier. I pulled it out, and typed in the password.


    The terminal beeped, and a list ofmands appeared - along with the message: <em>Wee back, Supervisor Ennis. It has been 74,890 days since yourst login.</em> There was only onemand, however, that I was interested in: Power Regtion. I selected it, and a new message popped up: <em>In case of emergencies, power regtion procedures can be carried out from this station. However, this practice is not rmended for regr use. Please see your supervisor concerning whether use of this station is warranted.</em>


    "I think I found a way to do the bypass from here," I said, getting up from the chair. "You should be able to use this." I patted the terminal, which reverberated with a metal echo. The mute woman nodded, gratefully. She looked at me, and smiled - it wasn''t a smirk, it wasn''t a smile she was trying suppress, it was a legitimate smile. She still looked a little nervous, despite the smile and the thumbs up she gave.


    "Hey, uh... are you going to be okay here?" I asked. Her smile faded, and she looked back up at me with a curt nod.


    "We''re going to make it through this." Without warning, she grabbed my hand, and brought both our hands between us. Combine her grip with how she was holding my hand, it was almost like she was trying to start an arm wrestlingpetition in midair. She stared at me directly in the eyes for a few seconds, her gaze burning with an strange sort of fire and intensity.


    Actually... it wasn''t strange. I knew that look. I''d seen it all too oftentely. It was the look of a warrior - or someone ready for blood.


    "We''re going to get through this," I said again, pping her on the shoulder. "And when we do, I promise - that rat-fink son of a bitch who put these damn cors on us is going to die." She smiled again at that. She gave onest nod, and finally let my hand go.


    I started walking towards the elevator... but I stopped, thinking of something else. I looked back at the map on my Pip Boy, scrolled through a few of the levels it had mapped out until I got to the surface. If my sense of direction wasn''t failing me (like my sense of time) then this elevator, if it went up, led to the hole in the wall that I''d seen earlier... and given the copsed catwalk behind us, and barricaded door behind <em>that</em>...


    "You know, you''re probably going to need to use this elevator if you ever want to get out of this ce," I said, turning back to the mute woman. She was already sitting at the terminal, typing away. "You know that, right?" She stopped typing, and turned back to me. She didn''t meet my gaze this time, but... eventually, she started to slowly nod.


    I had to think of something. Something to say, some way I could... I don''t know.


    "You''re going to be alright. Trust me, you''ll make it out of this... <em>We''ll</em> make it out of this. All that leaping around from rooftop to rooftop out there, with the death defying leaps - an elevator isn''t going to beat you. I''m sure of it."


    She just rolled her eyes, and despite a small smile being suppressed at the corners of her mouth, she turned away from me and went back to theputer.

 Chapter 49: Strike Up The Band

    Chapter 49: Strike Up The Band


    The metal elevator doors slid open - though, when I say ''slid'' they more ''ground against one another dropping a cloud of rust in their wake.'' Honestly, I was d to be getting out of it, and the rust falling off the door wasn''t actually the final straw. This wasn''t like one of House''s elevators - it trundled and creaked and groaned and rumbled the whole way up. I was starting to think the mute woman had a point about not wanting to enter the elevator.


    I found myself in a small, thoroughly destroyed room, covered in rubble and littered with filth and grime. It wasn''t as dark as it could have been, however, due to the massive hole in the wall, leading outside. I made my way to the hole in the wall, tiptoeing over the scattered debris and upturned tables to get a look outside.


    A crack of thunder boomed in the mass of Cloud overhead the moment I stuck my head outside. I was holding onto the side of the wall as I looked out and down, and unconsciously let out a long, low whistle. I was much, much higher than four stories - at least, it felt like it, looking down.


    "Damn... that''s a... yeah, that''s a long fall." I looked around, and realized there was no way down. Any rooftops that I could aim for were way too far away for me to jump toward (probably not far enough for the mute woman, though...). There wasn''t anything below the hole that could break my fall except the ground, and that was sure to break my spine.


    I backed away from the hole and looked around, trying to find anything in the room that might help me get down. It didn''t seem like there was anything except destroyed furniture and broken filing cabs. On the wall, though, I saw something that caught my eye - it was a poster, covered by dirt and grime and (presumably) cloud. What caught my eye about it was the small image of a kitchen knife I saw poking out from underneath the filth - the same kind of knives I''d seen all over the Vi.


    I tore a piece of cloth off a nearby sofa, and started wiping away the grime until I could see the rest of the poster. The knife was being held by a man in a spacesuit with a ridiculous curly mustache, and a white chef''s hat sitting on top of his clear domed helmet. Next to him was an anvil and a chicken - the end of the anvil and the chicken''s head had been cut offpletely, and both were sitting on the floor. Next to the spaceman-chef was a small stylized with a ring around it, and the word "Saturnite" underneath.


    " ''A superior precision-forged de from space-age materials developed by military scientists''." I said aloud, reading the words written in big block letters on the poster. " ''Cosmic knife: Stays sharp and willst a lifetime''... huh." I pulled one of the kitchen knives I''d stolen off the Ghost People and looked at it, thinking about everything it had cut through. I looked over to the hole in the wall, and back at the knife in my hands... and suddenly, I had an idea.


    Of course, when I took another look out the hole, and took in just how far I had to fall if I fucked up...


    "This is a stupid idea, Fisher," I said aloud, holding onto the edge of the hole in the wall, and positioning most of my body on the outside. "This is a very, very stupid idea, Fisher! What the fuck are you doing, man!" I took the knife in my right hand, and jammed it into the wall. It slid into the ster and brick as easy as you please, burying itself almost up to the handle. I grabbed hold of it as tight as I could... and let go of the wall.


    I started to slide down the side, my boots scraping against the wall. I grabbed hold of the knife with both hands; it was cutting through the side of the wall like a hot knife through butter. I couldn''t help but shut my eyes and grimace as a shower of sparks pelted me in the face and chest. I kept falling down the side of the building, with the knife slowing my descent just enough, until...


    Thud.


    I''d stopped moving, of that much I was certain. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was standing on firm ground, with all my limbs and bones and internal organs intact. Of course, I still felt the need to pat myself up and down to make sure, for all the good it would do.


    "Alright... okay then. I''m alive. So... that worked, I guess. Okay, good. Good to know." Slowly, I let go of the knifepletely, and gave myself a moment tough - especially when I looked up. The wall now had a giant, long scar from the knife going all the way to the hole in the wall four stories up.


    I just... I keptughing. I couldn''t help myself.


    "Hah hah haa... ohh... heh... oh, I must be crazy." I pulled the knife out of the wall, and took a look at it - it looked exactly the same as when I''d started. No scratches, no scuffs... even the Cloud residue was still covering the side. "I gotta do that again sometime."


    When I got back to the Fountain, I found Dean sitting on the edge, still staring up at the holographic woman. The strange thing was, he was no longer smoking - it looked like he was drinking something out of an old whiskey bottle.


    "Ah, about time you showed up," Dean said casually. "You were gone so long, I wasn''t sure if you wereing back."


    "You should know better by now," I said, tossing Dean a can of beans. "Here." Dean just watched as it sailed through the air - and kept watching as itnded at his feet, without even attempting to catch it.


    "What''s this?" Dean asked.


    "It''s a can of beans, what do you think?" I said, holding up my own. "What, are you too good for beans now? I''m trying to be nice here. You said you still need to eat, right?"


    "Well, yes. At least, I think so..." Dean started to lift the whiskey bottle to his broken and cracked lips, but stopped halfway to raise it in my direction so I could take a look at it; the inside looked like dirty brown water. "I''m fine with my martini for the moment, thank you very much."


    "Martini?" I asked. "Is that what that''s supposed to be?" Dean gulped down a little of the drink and nodded.


    "Yes - a Sierra Madre Martini. A concoction of my own recipe. Not as morous as dining in the Cantina Madrid, but..." he cleared his throat. "Scrape some Cloud residue off the walls, mash it in a tin can with some junk food from the vending machines, boil it over a hot te for thirty minutes or until it''s no longer chunky - whicheveres first - then hold your nose and down it. I don''t have a nose, so." He smiled grimly once again, and drank thest of it.


    "Hang on, you''re drinking shit with Cloud in it - <em>willingly</em>? Are you insane? That shit nearly killed me when I fell into some, and you''re trying to tell me you made a <em>drink</em> out of it?" I couldn''t believe he was serious.


    "If you don''t like it, don''t ask for any." Dean just shrugged, and tossed aside the empty bottle; it fell into the far end of the fountain and shattered. "It''s not like I''m asking you to try any."


    "Whatever." I shook my head, and reached down to pick up the can of beans. If he wasn''t going to eat it... I heard Dean scoff something about "Tourist..." under his breath as I got back up. "Are you ready to go or what?"


    "Sure, sure," Dean got up off the fountain and dusted himself off. "So, where are we off to, dear?" I looked down at my Pip Boy, and scrolled to the map.


    "ording to the marker, you''re ted for this spot. Know where this is?" I showed him the map on my arm. Dean looked at it carefully for a few minutes.


    "Yes... looks like a rooftop in Puesta del Sol. In better days, nice view. Now? It''s thest ce anyone wants to stand when the event the old man wants us to trigger goes off. That ce, during Spring... Summer... Fall... maybe a little bit in Winter? It''s a prime resort spot for the Ghost People. Not really the best of neighborhoods." Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out a packet of smokes. Something he said got me thinking, though...


    "This G thing, whatever it is. Know anything about it?" I asked. Dean chuckled.


    "Know anything? Sure... sure. It''s supposed to be the Grand Opening of the Sierra Madre. Lot of a lights, music, the works. And, from what I can tell, he''s going to use the G Event to <em>open</em> the casino. Isn''t that interesting..." Dean smiled wide, lighting the cigarette.


    "What do you mean, interesting? Why would the G Event open the casino? How?" I asked. Before he got a chance to answer, I added: "I already know Elijah triggered it once before. God already said as much. Why would he need to trigger it a second time?"


    "I''ve no idea why he''d need to trigger it twice... I mean, who ever heard of a casino with <em>two </em>Grand Openings?" Dean chuckled, a puff of smoke bursting out of his face where his nose should''ve been. "Still... maybe the drain in power caused by the G, that''ll cause the security systems to shut down enough to let us in. But... getting back out? No... no, this ce''ll close up tighter than an opening at the Fronds. Or Danny Parker''s sphincter when he has to tip the doorman." Deanughed again.


    "Wait, back up. You said something about a drain in power, yes? Does that mean this G Event is tied into the casino''s generators?" I asked. Dean took a long draw from his cigarette before answering.


    "Right, look - so, not everything about the Sierra Madre was the pinnacle of bright ideas."


    "I''ve gathered that," I tried to say as dryly as I could. Dean smirked, and took another draw from his cigarette.


    "In order to pull off the G, old Sinir had to get creative... the Sierra Madre announcement, for example. Not just the casino, no... not at all. The G''s tied to the casino, draws on its power. Might cause it to reset itself, opening the doors for a bit. Like it was supposed to, all those decades ago."


    "What about the announcement?" I stopped and looked around - I thought I''d heard something behind me. Were there Ghost People on the way?


    "Vera''s beautiful voice over the radio doesn''t run on casino power. At least... not exactly. Her broadcast - the one that drew you here, I imagine - is tied into the emergency broadcast signal for the Sierra Madre. You know, in case ofmunist Chinese attack? Well guess what? The night of the G Event - the night of the Bomb - the emergency signal went out all right. But because the broadcast had been hooked up to the G Event, instead of an emergency signal, you get the chance to hear Vera''s beautiful voice on the radio. Great, huh?"


    "So... the bombs fell, and the emergency signal went out... it''s not an invitation. It''s a call for <em>help</em>." Until Elijah sent it into the Mojave, and turned it into a trap. "Has it been broadcasting all this time?"


    "Yes... the Sierra Madre''sst song. One only a few people are ever going to hear. A little sad, but what can you do?" Dean tossed aside the cigarette. "So, are we going to leave, or stand around bullshitting about history all day?"


    "Alright... yeah, you''re right. C''mon let''s go," I said, starting to walk west. "Any idea why he wants you in that spot, anyway?"


    "Partner, I''m not sure this guy is operating with a full deck, if you catch my meaning." The irony of Dean calling <em>anybody</em> crazy was not lost on me - if anyone could be used of being a few cards short of a full house, it was Dean. "My bet? Process of elimination. Lowestmon denominator." Dean pulled out another cigarette with a smile.


    "I thought you said you weren''t a betting man," I said back at him with a smirk. Dean''s smile evaporated instantly.


    "Cute," Dean sighed. "I''ve had prime billing in Europe, New York... this gig doesn''t feel like that. Don''t get me wrong, I can hold an audience, conduct a score from the rooftops, but... I''m guessing I''m the odd man out in this whole heist."


    "Odd man out? I''m... I''m not sure I follow."


    "He figures the ''Strong Man''s'' needed somewhere else, even if the Strong Man''s two minds about the affair," Dean smirked again. "And the looker, the mute who''s been carved up, sounds like she''s been sent somece where speaking isn''t important. Stage tech, maybe? But me... I''m the odd man out. Dead weight. Someone you need holding the toolbox, the nurse passing the scalpel, the chauffer driving you to the concert. Any guy with <em>hands</em> is who he needs up on that rooftop. Guess he thinks I don''t rate, looking like I do..." Dean took out his lighter and lit the smoke, the me from the lighter reflecting off his sunsses... and then added something else, under his breath:


    "Poor him."


    Beep


    "Hold up!" I turned back to Dean, and urged him back. "Back up, there''s a speaker around here, somewhere." The two of us backed up, until my cor stopped beeping. I drew the pistol from under my arm, looking around for the speaker; I nced back at Dean, and realized that he''d pulled a pistol from somewhere as well. Of course, he still hadn''t gotten rid of his (eighth) cigarette...


    "You know, if I''d known these damn speakers would be so much of a nuisance, I''d have broken them all decades ago." Dean muttered, looking around.


    "If it was such a hassle, why didn''t you leave the Sierra Madre when you had the chance?" I asked, slowly inching forward, trying to get a view to where the speaker might be. "You had ample opportunity to leave this shithole before you got that bomb cor strapped to your neck, but you didn''t. You could''ve avoided all this by leaving this ce behind and finding a ce out in the rest of the world where everything ISN''T trying to kill you."


    "You wouldn''t understand," Dean practically spat back. He pulled the lit cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it in my direction; it missed my head by about six inches, maybe. "You''re just a tourist, a greedy fortune hunter lured by the treasure of the Sierra Madre. You''re searching for a promise you don''t understand, and have no hope of-"


    Beep.


    Thankfully, Dean shut up - giving me time to find the speaker. I saw a white light about 10 yards away, next to a 2nd story window. I knelt down and took aim at the speaker, and fired. The speaker didn''t explode. Damn. I fired again, and then a third time. The speaker exploded in a shower of sparks, and my cor went silent. However...


    Ragged, doppler breathing began to echo off the walls. I holstered the pistol and swung the holorifle off my back, looking around for the source. Dean was behind me, close to a small alcove, framed by a low overhang - and my eyes went wide when I saw the Ghost Person standing on the roof, holding a gas bomb in it''s hand.


    "Look out!" I yelled, rushing towards Dean. I practically tackled him, shoving us both into the alcove. Dean didn''t have time toin - or if he did, I couldn''t hear him over the sound of the gas bomb erupting into a mass of fire and shrapnel. Heat washed over me, my ears rang, and I felt stones and gravel from the road peppering my back and the back of my head.


    I turned around, the holorifle drawn, not knowing if the explosion from the gas bomb had died down yet. The Ghost Person probably didn''t care - why should I? Sure enough, the street was still on fire. The Ghost Person dropped off the roof, spear in hand just as I turned around. It wheeled around and lifted the spear... only to get shot in the face with a mass of holographic blue cubes. It tumbled backwards, head over heels, with a mass of slowly disappearing cubes following in it''s wake.


    "It''s trick," Dean said as he advanced on the fallen Ghost Person, his pistol still drawn. "Get an axe."


    Sklutch.


    Dean just looked at me oddly from behind his sunsses after I buried the business end of my spear into the Ghost Person''s neck. One good twist, and the head popped off with a spurt of white fluid bursting from its neck. The dismembered head rolled away, down the street, leaving a small trail of white fluid behind it.


    "Yeah..." I pulled the spear out of the ground and returned it to it''s holster on my back. "You gonna tell me something I don''t know, or are you going to keep saying shit everyone''s already figured out?" Dean cleared his throat, and put his pistol back inside his jacket. He turned, and pointed off to his left.


    "We should head through that hole in the wall there. If we go backstage, we can avoid the locals."


    "Probably," I said, walking past him, toward the doorway. There was a small sign on the door that read: "DANGER! Permit-required. Confined Space. Do Not Enter." and below it: "PELIGRO! Espacio cerrada, entrada solo con permisio."


    "What?" Dean asked, following me.


    "We can <em>probably</em> avoid the locals. I''m not stupid enough to think that there''s any safe ce from those zombies. Not here."


    "So," Dean looked up at the building. "This is where I''m supposed to put on the show? yed better venues, let me tell you."


    "Yeah, you said that already," I replied, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in my eyes. In front of us was a tall, three story building, that looked like it was U-shaped, with the top of the ''U'' facing us. There was a small archway connecting the two pirs... and just behind that, was another thick miasma of Cloud. It was sitting between us and (presumably) the way up. I still didn''t understand how the Cloud could just sit there in a concentrated clump, churning and bubbling away, without expanding outward. Or maybe it was, and it was just so slow that I didn''t notice.


    "I suppose there''s really no choice, is there?" Dean sighed, tossing aside his cigarette... and without another word, he stepped forward and stepped <em>into</em> the Cloud. I was standing there, dumbfounded, watching as the Cloud folded around him as he walked forward, and disappeared.


    "Holy... fuck that noise. I''m not going back into that shit." I said, looking around. I still had to get up there somehow, if only to make sure Dean was going to stay. My eyes fixed on a light that was bolted into the wall - right below a small overhang. With any luck...


    I backed up, cing my foot on a nearby fountain to brace myself - and ran towards the wall. Before smashing headfirst into it, however, I jumped up with all my might, grasping at the light first, and then the overhang, trying to steady myself with my feet doing my best to find grip on apletely t wall. Slowly but surely, I pulled myself up. A minute or soter, I was walking along the narrow nted roof; I was hugging the wall, doing my damndest not to fall into the Cloud right below me.


    There was a hole in the wall ahead of me - so I headed for that. I let out a sigh of relief when I stepped into a room where I didn''t have to bnce precariously above a mass of poison. There was a staircase leading up, a staircase leading down, and off to the side was a terminal that looked like it was still activated. I was just about to head up, when I was met halfway by Dean.


    "Oh," was all he said,ing to a stop in front of me. He seemed... disappointed.


    "What took you so long?" I said, trying not to smirk as I walked up the stairs, Dean following behind me. Before I knew it, I''d reached the top of the stairs - and as I stepped outside onto the balcony of the top floor, looking out to the Vi below, the speaker on my Pip Boy crackled to life. Oh boy. Here we go again.


    "You''re at the Ghoul''s G area..." I heard Elijah''s voice crackle over the speaker. It almost sounded like he was having trouble maintaining the connection. "Now - make him stay." Thest word faded quickly, and the static disappeared with a pop.


    "That the boss-man, threatening you with decapitation again?" Dean said from behind me. I turned around and gave him a nod, and Dean just shook his head as he walked past me, lighting another cigarette and looking around the balcony.


    "What''s that there?" He said, pointing at a nearby corner. "Is that... wiring?" I looked over his shoulder - it did indeed look like about half a dozen wires (one of which had been cut in half) that had been pulled out of a nearby electrical box on the wall. "Looks like it''s tied into the sound system for the rest of the Vi, except for that snipped section there. So... what, I stand here, hold the two ends in my hands, and tap them together like cymbals?" Dean turned back to me, and shook his head. "No thanks."


    "I could just jam both wires into your neck, close the circuit that way." I was starting to get fed up with Dean, and - I admit - I was losing my temper. Probably not the most diplomatic thing to say, but really... can you me me?


    "Real funny," Dean said with a slight snarl. "Although... after your "cor talk" in the Residential Area... I believe you. I still don''t want to stay."


    "And why not?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. "God agreed to stay at his station. The mute woman is staying at hers. Why are you going to be difficult?"


    "Because," Dean grabbed his cigarette, and pointed it at the courtyard below. "I strike up the speaker system, there''s going to be ghosts all over this ce. Any big change in the sounds around here... the Ghost People are not big on <em>talking</em>. They''re big on <em>listening</em>. Hunting. Killing. They''re more vicious than music critics, believe me."


    "Right. Okay. So. What''s it going to take to get you to stay here?" I asked, hoping against hope that this wasn''t going to turn into another one of those damn fetch quests I''d been doingtely.


    "Take?" Dean put the cigarette back in his mouth, and let out a grimugh. "It''s not going to <em>take</em> anything, because you couldn''t offer me anything to stay here. The Ghost People''lle out of the woodwork when the G Event starts ring - they did thest time it went off. And when they see me up here, trapped, with only the one exit? It''s curtains for Dean. And I may look like a rotten, dead son of a bitch... but I''m partial to living."


    "You know, you''re the second ghoul to say that to me," I said, thinking back to when I was clearing out the REPCONN basement, and met Hand. I stopped, actually thinking back to that... it felt like it had been so long ago now. But it had only been a couple of weeks, right? I shook it off, and continued talking to Dean. "Alright, so, here''s my idea. If I clear out the Ghost People in the area," I pulled the holorifle off my back, and checked to make sure it was loaded "will you change your mind then?"


    "No," Dean said simply. "And do you want to know <em>why</em>? Because there''s more of them beneath the streets, in the buildings, and, oh... <em>everywhere else</em>. They hear anything out of the ordinary - especially music screaming through the speakers once I close the connection? They''ll swarm the area, just like I''d set off one of my distractions. I''d never make it out."


    "Right, right... of course not." I tried to rack my brain to think of any way I could get him to stay. And that''s when I remembered the Fountain at the center of town - and something Dean had said. Didn''t he say that he thought the holograms kept people away? "Alright... I got an idea I think you''ll like, then."


    "I doubt it, but I''ll have a listen. What did you have in mind?"


    "The Vi has holograms everywhere, right? If I can find some nearby and activate them to cover the area, wouldn''t that keep out the Ghost People?" I asked. Dean was in the middle of taking another draw from his cigarette when he paused halfway, apparently thinking about this idea. After about a minute or so, he started slowly nodding his head.


    "Yeah... yeah. If the hologram systems still work, that is. That might just do the trick. If you were to call up some of those Old World stiffs... that''d be an audience I wouldn''t mind having below." Excellent! Now I was making progress. Thank fuck.


    "Alright, I''ll go and turn on as many holograms as I can find. You better stay if I do, though," I said. Dean just scoffed... but gave me a single tip before I left.


    "If I remember correctly, there should be two of those ghosts you can switch on in the area... I just don''t quite remember how. Do that, and I''ll consider waiting on the rooftop. Maybe."


    "Right..." I thought about it - and recalled the still activated terminal just below us. "I think I know where to start."


    "Both of them are on," I said when I got back. Dean looked at me oddly when I came back up the stairs.


    "Really? Let me see..." He peered over the side of the balcony and looked down - there was one of the holographic security guards standing vigil right next to the balcony, and directly below us - inside the Cloud - was an amorphous glowing mass. I didn''t check, because I didn''t want to venture too close to that toxic Cloud, but I guessed that was another one of the security holograms. "Hmm... yeah. I <em>suppose</em> that''s pretty good protection. It certainly worked at the Fountain - and I don''t think Vera had anysers either, and she seemed to keep the Ghost People away. But..."


    "But?" I had to really keep myself from shouting. "What the fuck now, Dean?"


    "Well... uh... how do I know the power won''t suddenly go out? And... I don''t know. This still seems way too risky to me. For me."


    That was the absolutest straw.


    "Listen to me, you fuck!" I was almost shouting now, I was so furious, and I was advancing towards him with a scowl on my face. "I don''t want to be here. I don''t want to stay here. All I want is to get the fuck out of this hellhole, and until I can figure out a way to take THIS off my neck," I clutched at the bomb cor. "without blowing my own head off, I''ve got to follow Elijah''s instructions. I don''t like it, and it can be dangerous, but I''m going to do it anyway because right now I don''t have a choice - <em>and neither do you</em>. Right now, he wants you here. Now, I''ve activated those holograms just so that you can feel safe up here - which is more than I did for the other two - and you''re still being difficult? Fuck you! I''m not about to trade your life for mine, got it?" Dean''s cigarette was hanging limply out of his mouth, and he was cowering backwards during my whole rant... but he eventually shook it off and regained hisposure.


    "Uh... yeah. Yes, yes... I suppose... yes, well, I suppose you have a point."


    "Damn right I do. Does this mean you''re going to stay now?" I tried to calm my breathing, backing off a bit. Dean nodded slowly.


    "Yes, I''ll stay. But listen. When this thing goes off... and you try and get into the Sierra Madre without me? You''ll wish you hadn''t." It didn''t slip past my attention the venom of his words as the smoke curled around his head. I just shook my head, and turned to leave.


    "You still don''t get it, Dean. I don''t care about the Madre. I just care about getting the fuck out of here."


    "Of course you do, of course... You''re just like all the others who said they wanted their freedom..." Dean muttered as I turned from him and walked away. "We''ll see..."

 Chapter 50: The Gala

    Chapter 50: The G


    The fountain in the center of town was silent and still when I found my way back. The hologram of Vera Keyes was standing vigil, flickering slightly... but the small blue circle of light she provided wasn''t enough to wash away the suffocating redness of my surroundings.


    I was here for a different hologram, though. I finished off the tin of beans, tossed it aside, and walked up to the part of the fountain where Elijah''s hologram always seemed to appear. I knew when Elijah would show up because Vera would disappear to make way for Elijah''s stupid face - and he always seemed to show up when I stood in front of the emitter.


    Vera''s hologram continued to stand there, silently.


    "Hey!" I kicked the side of the fountain, right below the projector. "Elijah! I know you''re there, and I know you can hear me."


    Vera''s hologram flickered once... twice... and then disappeared altogether. The panel in the side of the fountain began to raise and emit a slow, soft hum.


    "That''s more like it," I muttered as the screen materialized above the fountain. Elijah''s holographic andpletely static image looked down on me, but when the speaker activated... There was a grunt and a tter of metal against metal long before I heard Elijah''s voice.


    "Why are you here?" Elijah coughed several times before going silent again.


    "I got everyone into position," I said up at the screen. "Just like you asked. Now, are we going to start this thing or what?"


    "Not until you get into <em>your</em> position." Elijah growled back at me.


    "What." I felt a twinge at my left temple, and I resisted the urge to rub my bullet scar.


    "Check your map," He said. There were a few clicks like he was typing on a keyboard over the speaker, followed by my Pip Boy beeping.


    Count to ten, Sheason. Just count to ten and calm down. Until you can figure out how to get this damn thing off your neck, you don''t want to piss off the man who can blow your head off. Just stay calm, and cool, and collected.


    "I... <em>thought</em>... when everyone was in position, you could start this whole thing."


    "And you were right. But not everyone is in position. Now check your map and go - you are not the only thing I have to concern myself with right now." The speaker cut out with a burst of static, and Elijah''s face-monitor winked out, reced by Vera Keyes once again.


    "Of course it wasn''t going to be this easy..." I muttered to myself. "Why did I think this was going to be that easy?"


    ording to the map marker, my position was on the far east side of town. I''d lost count of how many speakers I had to blow up along the way. I''d also lost count of how many traps - bear traps, rigged shotguns, grenade bouquets - I had to either disarm, circumvent, or avoid entirely. I do know how many Ghost People I''d killed along the way, though - only two. The others I was able to avoid. I managed to kill the other two without getting injured further.


    Was I getting better at hunting the Ghost People then? Maybe. Granted, I only had two microfusion cells left by the time I got close to the marker...


    The really worrying thing though was... without anyone to talk to, and my sense of time not really working, I honestly had no idea how long it took me to find my way there. It could have taken me thirty minutes, or it could''ve been six hours for all I knew. All the roads and buildings looked the same, covered in the red Cloud, and there were no real distinguishingndmarks. Thankfully, I was still able to use the casino sitting on the cliff above the Vi as a point of reference - which made things a bit easier.


    I walked down a staircase and found myself in a room that had a vending machine on one side, and a massive hole in the opposite wall. I was going to check the vending machine to see what supplies I could get, when my Pip Boy''s speaker cracked to life.


    "The bell tower. That''s where you''ll trigger the G Event." Elijah said, his voice peppered with static.


    "Bell tower?" I asked. Rather than go to the vending machine, I looked out the hole - and saw a wide, covered staircase leading up, and beyond it was a single tower looming above the other rooftops.


    "It''s a ways up," Elijah coughed again. "I''m sure you''ll find a way to climb up there." The Pip Boy crackled, and then went silent.


    "Yeah..." I sighed. I walked up the stairs, and found myself in a courtyard, with the bell tower looming above me. There were Ghost People around here, somewhere, I could tell - the breathing echoed off every surface, but it was faint enough that I couldn''t tell where it wasing from.


    I needed to find some way up, but there weren''t any immediately visible options. There was a wooden balcony ringing most of the courtyard, but it was far too high for me to jump up to it, and there were no decent handholds that I could use to scale the wall, either.


    After searching around, I did find something: another hole in one of the walls. It led into one of the buildings, but beyond that I couldn''t tell. Sure, there were other doors, but they were either boarded up, and it would take too long to break through, or they were blocked off by debris... or by Cloud residue that had clumped together into glutinous masses of red and brown.


    Once I got inside and had a chance to look around (after carefully avoiding a bear trap), it didn''t really look all that promising. There was only one way to go, and that was a staircase leading down. The more I thought about it, though... it kind of made sense, in a twisted sort of way. This ce was a maze, and I''d had to go down to go up, and left to go right before - the only time maneuvering around this ce made sense was when I was going along the rooftops with the mute woman, and that''s because we were circumventing the system.


    Nothing else in this hellhole made sense. Why should this? Or was this just me starting to crack and go crazy? Maybe a bit of both, who knows. Either way, I cautiously descended the staircase. The ragged sounds of breathing got louder and louder the deeper I went. I knew I was getting close to the Ghost People, but I didn''t quite know <em>how</em> close until I came to a stop at the base of the stairs, and looked into the door to my left - the only door avable.


    This was a wine cer... I think. There were three pirs holding up the middle of the room, with arches along the ceiling connecting the pirs to the walls and each other. There were half a dozen wooden casks scattered around, and the walls were covered in wine racks. And unless my sense of direction waspletely gone, this cer was directly below the courtyard.


    Oh, and there were five Ghost People shuffling around the cer. That was also a cause for concern.


    I pressed my back up against the wall as far as it would go and tried to control my breathing. There was no other way through to the other side except to go through them, as far as I knew. I was tired, I was hungry, I''d been running almost nonstop since I arrived at this hellhole, and quite frankly, I''d had quite enough. I''m sure that I was dangerously close to snappingpletely.


    Which I''m sure I could use as an excuse to exin what I did next.


    I pulled the spear off my back, and rounded the corner, charging into the wine cer at full speed with the business end of the spear poised and ready. The closest of the Ghost People had its back to me at first, but turned at the sound of my moving feet. It had about half a second to raise the knife in it''s hand before I jammed the end of my spear into the middle of it''s gut. I didn''t stop pushing, though - I just kept charging, pushing against the zombie with all my might until I saw the des bury themselves deep enough to stick out the other side.


    I stopped running, and instead I started to slide - just in time too. One of the other Ghost People had caught up to me, and swung a bear trap through the air right where I''d been seconds before. I pushed up against the spear, and heard a mixture of meat being sliced and bones breaking; the spear sliced roughly through the torso, splitting it in half from the middle of the stomach to its left shoulder.


    I didn''t have time to appreciate the sight. I was already rolling away from the other Ghost Person with the bear trap fist behind me. I nted my feet, and they found enough traction for me to get back up. I must have gotten turned around, because I was face to face with a spear wielding Ghost Person, and not the bear trapper. He thrust the spear towards me, but he wasn''t fast enough. I blocked the attack with my own, driving his spear into the ground. I jammed mine onto the back of one of the des, making sure it was firmly wedged into the floor, and elbowed the Ghost Person right in the face. It sounded like something cracked - or was that from the spear that I''d grabbed and kicked to snap it in half? - so I wheeled around, (still conscious of the bear trapper behind me and trying to get further away from him) and smashed the Ghost Person in the face with the side of my Pip Boy.


    That definitely made something break, and I watched it stumble back a few steps. I grabbed the knife off my belt with one hand, grabbed it by the hood with the other, and jammed the cosmic knife into the side of its neck. It only struggled for about a half a second - after I twisted the knife though, it went limp. I didn''t <em>quite</em> cut it''s head off, though... I turned it into a pez dispenser...


    There was a guttural rasp from behind me, followed by a metal clunk. I wheeled around, still holding onto the limp Ghost Person, and used it as a shield. Not a moment too soon, either. There was a wet crunch as the bear trap fist closed around the back of the corpse. When I was sure the bear trapper was stuck, I shoved against the corpse, and when it was far enough away from me, I nted my boot against its chest with all my might. The both of them were shoved back, giving me time to grab my spear that was still stuck in the floor.


    Another spear holding Ghost Person wasing at me. It wasn''t exactly charging - it''s movements were too erratic for that - but it was advancing with enough speed to do some damage if it connected. Instead of running away, though, I ran <em>towards</em> it... and ducked at thest minute, sliding across the floor, and angling my spear next to me, at just right around knee-height. I remember hearing a ''splutch'' from behind me as I slid past.


    I couldn''t concern myself with that. I''d already lost too much momentum. I braced myself against the floor with my spear as quickly as I could and got up to be face to face with another knife wielder. I thrust my spear forward, jamming it through the center of its face. I pushed down, and it was like I was tossing around a rag doll. It just copsed, face-nting on the ground, with the added benefit of the spear bisecting it through the middle of it''s head.


    I ducked once more, still pushing against the spear (if only to make sure that the slice had been good and deep) and nced up as I saw a bear trap fist whiff the air right where my head had just been. I twisted my body around, trying to sweep the bear trappers legs out from under it, but he wasn''t where I''d expected. I looked up to see the bear trapper had jumped back about five feet.


    I stood up to my full height, and brought my fists up close to protect my face. The bear trapper just sort of stood there, hunched over with the bear trap primed and ready... and he looked around the room, from corpse to corpse and back to me. His breathing was more erratic than normal, and echoed off the walls. I''m sure my breathing was just as heavy... I shuffled to my left, and it mimicked my actions, like we were boxers circling each other in the ring.


    "Come on!" I half-growled, half-yelled, my voice heavy and raspy. I gestured for him to juste forward and attack already. "What, you scared? I got enough for you too!" It must have epted the invitation, because that''s when he rushed toward me, rearing the bear trap fist back. I nted my back foot - bracing my heel against the pir that was right behind me. I twisted my body at thest second, and the bear trapper punched through the air where I''d been, kept going, and -


    CRUNCH!


    The bear trap had closed down, and wastched onto the stone pir. I moved out of the way, and watched with a strange sense of amusement as he tried to pull his arm free - but the bear trap had hit the wall with such force that it was well and truly stuck. I walked around the Ghost Person casually, going to the lifeless body of the one whose head I''d bisected, and pulled the spear free. With one swift motion, I spun around and shed the air. The head of the bear trapper rolled away, down his back, and the body copsed... with the bear trap still stuck to the pir.


    I took a short minute to try and steady my breathing, and collect the knife that was still lodged in the neck of the Ghost Person I''d turned into a pez dispenser. Off to my left, on the opposite end of the room was another doorway - and joy of joys, I could see a staircase leading up.


    So I went up.


    "Can you hear me?" Elijah''s voice crackled with static over my Pip Boy as soon as I entered the top of the bell tower. It was incredibly small and cramped up here; it probably would''ve felt more open if two of the windows looking out over the courtyard and rooftops weren''t boarded up. On the plus side, the windows that weren''t closed off afforded a magnificent view of the casino off to the north... and andscape covered with swirling masses of reddish-brown Cloud. Below the window was a console that seemed simple enough. There was arge lever, and two lights above it - red and green. The red light was on.


    "Yeah, I can hear you. Barely." I said. There were a few grunts over the speaker... and then I realized that the noise wasn''t justing from my Pip Boy.


    "Damn transceivers..." Elijah coughed, and continued. "Let me link the cors to the speaker in the tower... then... there!" Immediately, the static disappeared, and the noise over the speakers - both of them - was clear. Clear enough for me to recognize that there was some tapping that didn''t sound like static. It was a series of sharp taps, then a slow, deliberate two-taps. That had to be the mute woman.


    "Only a little longer, and we''ll all open the casino," I said. A single tap came from the speaker, and then silence. There was a small buzz, like a radio switching channels.


    "Ready," I heard God''s voice grumble over the speaker. "Both of us are ready. I''ll keep Dog locked in his cage... you just open the Sierra Madre." There was another buzz.


    "What are you waiting for?" Dean''s voice sounded positively annoyed. "What, are you rubbing it in, or rubbing one out? Strike up the band already! And careful when you do. You think the Vi''s bad now, you haven''t seen anything yet..."


    "Right," I said, hoping that my voice would carry to everyone involved. I didn''t know what Elijah was doing to the radio on his end, or how much was being transmitted to who. "Let''s do this. On the count of three... two..."


    "Finally! Now the gates will open!" Elijah practically whispered. "And so will the skies!"


    "One!" I grabbed hold of the lever, and pulled down. The light switched from red to green, and... at first, it didn''t seem like anything happened. Had it not worked?


    There was a rumble off in the distance, and I could see some of the Cloud start to move and swirl. One by one, spotlights in the Vi began to activate, shining dozens of lights at the casino on the cliff overlooking everything. More spotlights and searchlights activated at the casino itself, moving and spilling light up into the sky. The speaker started ying music - some kind of Old World tune, all triumphant and celebratory and full of horns. And that''s when I saw the fire in the skies.


    All around the Vi - and up at the casino, too - spears of fire erupted from nowhere, leaving trails of multicolored light and smoke in their wake. One after another - and almost in time with the music, the fireworksunched into the sky, erupting in explosions of blues and oranges and greens and purples. It was a constant and unending stream of multicolored fire peppering the sky, and discing enough of the Cloud that it was almost like I could see the sky. Almost.


    As I climbed back down the tower, another sound mixed with the music. It was the voice of a woman: Vera Keyes.


    <em>Everyone, please! May I have your attention - guests and residents of the Vi alike. I ask you to step outside and look at the night sky! It''s the moment you''ve been waiting for, the reason we''re all here. The G Event, the grand opening of the Sierra Madre Casino! You are the ones who have made this momentous asion possible, and for that we thank you. So raise your ss in celebration, let music fill the streets! Fireworks light the night sky, and promise of new beginnings fill your hearts! No matter what your fortune, no matter what your cares - let go this night and begin again! I suggest you hurry, though; the gates of the Sierra Madre are open but only for a brief time. After that... the doors will close for the evenings festivities, and won''t open again until morning...</em>


    "Oh... fuck." I said as I looked out over the balcony onto the courtyard below. The fireworks boomed overhead, and music was echoing off every surface, so I suppose the sight below shouldn''t have been a surprise... but it was still rather unnerving to see so many Ghost People in one ce. The courtyard which had been empty when I first arrived was now home to at least two dozen of the zombies, shambling around, and looking up at the sky.


    I heard a crash - one of the doors had broken apart from the inside, and more Ghost People began shambling out. Now, there were easily three dozen Ghost People down in the courtyard below, and <em>more kepting</em>. I felt one of my eyes twitch...


    Clunk.


    My head snapped to the right, towards the sound. The view was not surprising, but it still made my bowels clench. There was a bear trapper no more than five feet away from me and getting closer... and behind him were about six or seven... wait, no it was ten... fuck me, the Ghost People just kepting!


    "Right, time to leave!" I turned to my left, only to see <em>more</em> Ghost People on the other side of me on the balcony. They could onlye at me one at a time (well... <em>two</em> at a time) because the catwalk was so narrow. I could <em>probably</em> deal with them, but I really didn''t have the time. So, since I couldn''t go left, and I couldn''t go right, I took a third option.


    "This is a stupid idea!" I said, climbing up and nting my foot on the top of the guardrail, grabbing it to steady myself. I could hear the Ghost People all around me - and I leapt down just as a bear trap closed in the air around nothing. I started falling toward a patch of ground that was, thankfully, devoid of Ghost People.


    My world tumbled as I hit the ground and rolled. My feet gained traction, I pushed off against the ground, and found myself upright once again. Don''t ask me how I pulled that off. I have NO IDEA. Granted, I wasn''t really feeling all that confident because of the dozens upon dozens of glowing green eyes all staring at me.


    Don''t focus on the eyes. Ignore the noise from the music on the speakers and the explosions in the sky. Don''t focus on the ragged breathing around you, bellowing like a ravenous beast in your ears. Just run. That was the only thought in my head.


    So I ran.


    I ran until my muscles burned, and screamed, and pleaded with me to stop. I ran until my veins pumped fire instead of blood, and every fiber in my being begged - pleaded - with me to stop. I ran until it felt like my legs were about to turn into jelly, and every footfall sent a shock like an earthquake rattling up through my legs and threatening to shake my spine loose.


    And then I ran some more.


    I didn''t even know where I was going. I just knew that I had to keep moving, because everywhere I looked, I saw more and more Ghost People emerging out of every nook, cranny, crevice, and darkened corner of the Vi. This wasn''t like before, where I would see one or two. The smallest groups now numbered in the <em>dozens</em>.


    I knew that if I stopped, I was dead. So I just kept running.


    I don''t know how long I ran, but I do know this: eventually, I found my way back to the fountain at the center of town. For the first time since setting off the G, I saw a ce that was free of Ghost People... sort of. I nced behind me, and could see a formless mass of green eyes behind me, getting closer - and off in the distance, on the other side of the courtyard, I saw even more Ghost People lumbering slowly forward, like an enormous beast out of a nightmare.


    Off to my left was the gate out of town. It was still shut, just like before... but then I looked right. The gate that led to the Sierra Madre was wide open. The sign above the archway was even lit up, as were the lights behind it, illuminating the staircase.


    Go into the Sierra Madre, or stay out here and risk being cut to pieces by the hundreds of Ghost People now flooding the streets?


    I poured on the speed again, aiming myself at the stairs. It was a long climb, don''t get me wrong, but if you''ve ever needed motivation to get off your ass and just <em>move</em>, trust me: absolute certain death will always motivate you. Heading into the Sierra Madre was just <em>probably</em> certain death, and it was that ''probably'' which gave it much better odds than staying in the Vi to be murdered by the Ghost People.


    After what felt like a thousand steps up a winding staircase set into the side of the cliff, I had reached the doors of the Sierra Madre. Like the gate a thousand steps back, the gigantic metal double doors - twice as tall as I was - were wide open. I took maybe five steps inside...


    ZZAP!


    Something hit me in the back of the skull. I think. That''s what it felt like. My eyes clouded over with darkness almost instantly, and for the brief seconds I remained coherent, I could feel myself falling face-first toward the tiled floor... and then there was nothing at all.


    I woke up from my dreamless... I was going to say rest, but it wasn''t really. I''d been knocked the fuck out, that''s what happened. I took one breath (while still lying on the floor), d that I was still alive... but then immediately prayed for the nothingness and oblivion I''d been ripped from just seconds ago.


    Every part of me was still on fire. My arms, my legs, my chest, my neck, my back, my ass... there were parts of me I didn''t know existed that decided the best way of alerting me to their presence for the first time in my life was by screaming at me.


    By the time I got up and on my feet (doing my damnedest to ignore the moltenva that my muscles and bones had be) another type of annoyance reared its head. From overhead, I heard speakers fizzle and pop to life... followed by Elijah''s voice. I looked around the room, trying to get my bearings and figure out where the sound wasing from, since it wasn''ting from my Pip Boy this time. It was a bit difficult, since only a few lights were on, and they were all very dim.


    "You... inside... Can you hear me? Power''s fluctuating... emergency power." There were a few more mechanical pops, and then the sound system becamepletely free of static. "Oh! You are in. Good, good... thought that might be the end of you."


    "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said aloud to the ceiling, walking around and trying to get a better sense of where I was. As it turned out, I was in arge casino lobby that was easily two stories tall. All the walls were adorned with borately decorated tiles, and ahead and off to the side of me was a winding, gilded staircase that led to an upper balcony. Directly in front of me, however, was a veryrge mosaic decorating the wall. About a fourth of the tiles that made up the picture were missing. Elijah kept talking to me while I got a closer look at it.


    "Unfortunately, your... ''friends'' also found their way here. Knocked unconscious... just like you. Wondering what happened? You were hit by casino security. Detects anything foreign - radioactive. It subdues the visitor, moves them if needed. Hnh... getting interference from old recordings... the guests who were trapped here... eh, shut that noise off..."


    "Uh-huh," I said absentmindedly. I had a nasty feeling that he couldn''t actually hear me - then again, that was probably a good thing. While he talked, I turned on the light from my Pip Boy so I could get a better look at the image. It focused on three figures - a man on the left holding hands with a woman on the right, and a muchrger winged female figure in the middle behind the man and woman. The man was wearing a tuxedo... and almost looked a little like House, with the short dark hair, and the small mustache. The woman looked like the Vera Keyes hologram, except with a white dress. The woman with wings, on the other hand, was dressed in a blue and red robe, with a crown of leaves adorning her head, and the sun behind her. In her right hand, she was holding arge golden torch, and in her left hand was arge branch of red leaves. At the very bottom of the mosaic was a simple phrase: "BEGIN AGAIN"


    "Looks like the casino moved your ''friends'' around once inside... might be useful. Or not. Wonder if they came to help or kill you. Still... My signal should work through the speakers, now that you''re inside. Heh, hah! Wee to the Sierra Madre, in all its glory! This is what the Old World stood for, even with bombs about to rain down on them. Now look at it. Beautiful... now its guests are all dead. Better this way. Quiet. How the Mojave should be..."


    "Yeah, that''s not ominous or anything," I muttered, wandering away from the fresco, and looking around elsewhere in the lobby.


    "Now - with the casino sleeping, it''s got ces closed off. Won''t let you go yet. We''ll get there, trust me. Just need to wake it up." There was another noise - this time from my Pip Boy. I looked down at the screen, and noticed a new marker on my map. I looked up in the direction where the map marker was pointing, and it looked like it was leading me into an archwaybeled "Casino."


    "Fuck," I said, hiking the holorifle further up my shoulder. "I thought I was done with this bullshit..." Through the archway was a long hallway, lined with slot machines, mirrors and pirs. I bet with the lights turned on, it''d be hard enough to see - with only the emergency lights, it was almostpletely dark. I blinked, and my world was awash with green. As I walked beside the rows of slot machines, Elijah started talking to me over the speakers once again.


    "This is the past you''re walking through. Few have seen it. No one else ever will. I worked hard to get here, it''ll give me what I need before I leave. And it''ll always wee me back. Now... look for a way to wake this ghost up, remind it that it''s got <em>guests</em>..."


    Off in the distance, I saw a soft, blue glow at the end of the row of slot machines. At first I thought it was one of those vending machines, spilling light everywhere... but then I realized the light reflecting off the wall was <em>moving</em>. I ducked behind one of the slot machines, and watched as another of those security holograms walked from behind the corner, stopped, turned around, and walked back.


    Wonderful, I thought to myself. Now I have more of those to deal with. And unlike the security holograms in front of Dean''s spot, I didn''t see any terminals I could use to reprogram them. Luckily this one didn''t seem to have the same level of awareness as the hologram in the medical district - and the patrol pattern was easily recognizable. I was able to avoid being seen by it long enough to get to the stairs at the end of the hall, and head to the second level.


    The upstairs section of this room was a restaurant or a bar of some kind... and I didn''t see any security holograms up here. I checked the marker on my map again. Whatever it was leading me to... whatever was going to "wake up" the casino... was in this room, which looked like some kind of maintenance closet. At least, that''s what it looked like from the map.


    I looked over the railing to get a good look at the casino floor below. Above the casino was a grid of metal beams that criss-crossed between all the walls; it looked like a lighting grid, except styled to look like part of the casino, rather than hidden away. There were several holographic security guards patrolling the floor beneath the lighting grid - and of course, there was a hologram guarding the door I needed to get to.


    Carefully - and quietly, since I had no idea if the holograms picked up sound - I climbed over the railing and dropped down onto the lighting grid. I did my damndest to keep my bnce and not fall - especially with the holograms walking around the room directly below me...


    I guess that old maxim really is true: guards don''t look up.


    Below me was the maintenance closet... and the holographic guard standing in front of the doorway. The door was ajar. It looked like it had been broken into at some point in the past... and it looked like there might be <em>just</em> enough room for me to slip in behind the hologram. Just. It would be a tight squeeze, and there would be positively no room for error... I braced myself against the wall, and readied myself to jump.


    I <em>really</em> hoped that this guard didn''t look up.


    I practically threw myself against the wall above the door. I hit it with a solid thud, and slid down... but then my back foot bumped up against something solid. The blue light bouncing off the walls turned yellow as my feet hit the ground. That was not a good sign. I didn''t bother to look back - I just ducked, rushed forward, grabbed the door, and tried to shut it behind me. There was a sound like splintering wood, and a sh of red light scorched the air just above my head.


    I looked up and around, and saw a circuit box off to my right, with a lever pointed down. Anotherser st scorched the air above me. It was now or never. I grabbed the lever on the side of the circuit box, and pushed it up as hard as I could.


    There was a loud, heavy clunk that reverberated and echoed throughout the entire casino. The lights from outside changed: the red light spilling through the holes in the door switched to white.


    "You woke it up... good." Elijah''s voice came over the speaker as I walked onto the casino floor. I didn''t see any more security holograms... but I still saw holograms. There were holographic figures standing around the ckjack and the craps tables, and several behind the cashiers booth. They weren''t firingsers... which was good.


    "Emitter frequencies... lighting up everywhere!" Elijah sounded pleased. I was just d I didn''t have to be sneaking around anymore. "Damn recording! Dead echoes in the frequencies... Casino security is shutting down... opening up its vendor and gambling programs in the back casino... Heh! Still might be something for sale."


    "I think I have bigger things to worry about, asshole..." I said aloud, walking back toward the lobby. I checked the holorifle - damn. I hadn''t been able to find any other microfusion cells before triggering the G, so I still only had two left. I had maybe 12 or 13 shots left for the pistol. On the bright side, I still had easily 3 dozen stimpacks.


    "Now that the casino is paying attention to... us... it''s time you dealt with your ''friends.'' I couldn''t see them before, but now... It looks like they got moved to the other floors. Interesting... maybe that''s why... hmm, yes... yes." I''m not sure if he knew he was still transmitting. "Perhaps the casino recognized specific guests... or guests with a voice or look close enough for them to be... <em>assigned</em> to that floor. We''ll see. Had hoped with the power restored, the systems would fully awaken. Especially the <em>sound archives</em>. Damn. But... no. Your teammates'' cors on each floor are interfering with the systems. It''s the white noise filters embedded in their construction - they''re blocking the casino speakers, the music."


    "So what the fuck do you want me to do about it?" I yelled out at the ceiling, not really expecting an answer. As it happens... I got one.


    "You''ll need to recalibrate - or destroy - each cor. To do that, you''ll need to get close. Re-set the signal. Or blow their heads off. I''ll leave the choice up to you. My preference? End them now. They''re of not use to m... <em>us</em> now. After all, it''s safe to kill them. Provided you make it quick."


    "Safe to kill them?" I asked aloud. "What about the linked cors? Or was that just more of your bullshit?"


    "You see," Elijah continued, talking over me - maybe he couldn''t hear me. Or perhaps, he just didn''t care. "The cors don''t work inside the Sierra Madre... well, between floors, at least. Else, I''d set off all the cors. Be done with it."


    "Nice of you to show your true colors." I said. "Not that there was any doubt about <strong>that</strong>. Fuckhead." I was quickly running out of good insults. It had been a very, <em>very</em> long day.


    "The floors... whatever they lined this ce with, it... it interferes with the cor frequency. If you kill them, you should have some time to run before the explosives are set off on <em>both</em> cors. If you''re quick. Uh... just not sure how long. May not be consistent. More... less... whatever, it doesn''t matter. What we need is in the basement. Once I can ess the music archives, we''ll need to go to the top and ride our fortunes down. Now go. You''ve made it this far... it would be a shame to have to rely on the next team, and have all your hard work go to waste."


    A deafening silence filled the lobby after Elijah finally shut up. A series of beeps came from my Pip Boy - a new series of markers had appeared on several differentyers on my map. One wasbeled "Cantina Madrid," another was several floors above me,beled "Tampico Lounge," and thest was on the 27th floor of the hotel, simplybeled "Executive Suites."


    "Ugh," I said, shaking my head and lowering the Pip Boy. "I thought I was done with this errand boy shit for you, you prick... You want them dead so badly, Elijah? <strong>Fuck you.</strong> I''m not going to kill any of them unless I have to, but you?" I pulled the holorifle off my back and gripped it tight.


    "You''re a <strong>dead man</strong>, Elijah. Count on it."

 Chapter 51: Putting Down The Beast

    Chapter 51: Putting Down The Beast


    When things get really, really bad, sometimes you just have to take stock of the things that are going <em>right</em>. For instance: yes, I''m still stuck in a Pre War hellhole. I''m still thousands of miles from the Mojave and my friends, with no visible way back. I still have a bomb cor strapped to my neck, and I''m still being bossed around by a murderous psychopath.


    But on the plus side? I can <em>breathe</em>. And fuck me, I''ll take it.


    I hadn''t really been able to appreciate that fact earlier, what with all the other things on my mind. But now that I had a quiet moment to myself in the lobby of the Sierra Madre, I was able to notice something very important: I could neither taste nor smell anything even resembling Cloud.


    The air tasted like... well, <em>air</em>. It was recycled, stale air that had probably been pushed through the same filters for thest 200 years, like the air in the Lucky 38, sure... but it was still air. It was clean enough to breathe without worry.


    Another bonus: there weren''t any Ghost People here. That fact I had noticed... but it was really hammered home when I was standing all by myself in the lobby: the silence was positively deafening. I don''t think I''ve ever been in a ce THIS quiet. Back in the world, there are always sounds from animals, mutated insects, raiders or whoever. Hell, even in the Lucky 38, there was a constant thrumming noise vibrating slightly through the whole tower.


    I started walking toward the closest marker - the one in the Cantina Madrid - and each footfall on the hard-tile floor echoed and bounced off every surface. It didn''t sound like I was walking. It sounded like I was pounding on metal pots with a mallet.


    "Fuckin'' hell..." I said aloud, to try and drown out the sound. "That''s gonna drive me bonkers before too long!"


    "Hurry up and deal with the FEV reject," Elijah''s voice blurted out over the speakers as soon as I opened the doors. "He''s of no use to us. It looks like he''s in the kitchens... there must be a back entrance somewhere." There was a crackle and a pop, and Elijah''s voice disappeared.


    The inside of the Cantina Madrid reminded me of some of the restaurants I''d been to on the Strip - except it was empty. There was a podium with "<em>Cantina Madrid</em>" written inrge, gold ted letters and some kind of fancy script behind it. Beyond the podium were row upon row of empty circr tables filling the room. On the far end of therge room was a bar, backlit in orange.


    I''ve been in plenty of abandoned buildings and derelict ruins before... but for some reason, the more of the Sierra Madre I saw, the more I got thoroughly creeped out. The Cantina Madrid was especially bad, but - initially, at least - I couldn''t quite exin why.


    Maybe it was the fact that even buildings that had been abandoned by humans for years, decades, or even centuries always seemed to have <em>something</em> living in it. Usually it was just a colony of radroaches or some giant mantises, maybe a colony of radscorpions. asionally, you''d find a cluster of feral ghouls that had taken up residence. But so far, everything I''d seen of the Sierra Madre''s interior was empty room after empty room, with absolutely no signs of life at all - not even radroaches.


    There was something else unnerving - everything around here was entirely too <em>clean</em>. There was no dust. No cobwebs. Not even ancient footprints in the carpets. All the tables in the Cantina Madrid were all set. Even the chairs were still in ce, positioned perfectly. Nothing was dirty. Sure, there were a few signs of wear and tear - a crack in the wall here, a few broken or missing ceramic tiles there - but aside from that, the Sierra Madre looked almost <em>brand new</em>.


    And that''s when it hit me: since entering the Sierra Madre, I hadn''t seen a single skeleton. There were absolutely no bodies anywhere. I hadn''t seen any outside in the Vi either, but that at least made a certain amount of sense. With all the Ghost People around, and all the radroaches I''d seen outside, there was plenty of exnation as to where any bodies on the outside might have gone... but here?


    Inside the Sierra Madre, there were no signs of life, and there were no signs of death. For some reason, that notion made my skin crawl.


    So, if there was no signs of life... what the fuck was making that noise?


    "This is turning into that stupid horror story only two sentences long... how did that go again? ''Thest man on Earth sat alone in his room. There was a knock on the door,'' or something like that?" I shook it off, and headed deeper into the Cantina Madrid, and with every step the noise got louder and louder. It was... somebody speaking. No, wait... two people sp-


    Wait. I know what this is. There were two voices: Dog and God were both speaking - which in itself was odd enough - and it was like they were finishing each others sentences... run on sentences. As soon as I got to the kitchen door in the back, I could hear the voices more distinctly, and could actually make out what the two of them were saying... and the longer they spoke, the more desperate and pleading God''s words seemed to sound - and the more angry and in control Dog sounded.


    "<strong>... going to make casino burn, no more being...</strong>"


    "... back in the cage! Stop what you''re doing, we can..."


    "<strong>... can hear you now. Not much longer, not...</strong>"


    "... listening to me! Tired of being your minder, tired..."


    "<strong>... of putting Dog to sleep. He wakes up in cage, hungry... Dog wants...</strong>"


    "... to protect you! I always wanted to protect you, the reason I have to take control is..."


    "<strong>... Master. Master set me free, Dog needs to...</strong>"


    "... listen to me - if you do this, we both..."


    "<strong>... die. Dog wants to die. Don''t care any more. Tired of you. Tired of ce. Master will...</strong>"


    "... help us... Please. Let me help us... If you don''t, then you''re..."


    "<strong>... going to make casino burn, no more being...</strong>"


    I listened at the door to the kitchen while I tried to find some way in. It was like an endless cycle of the two of them talking to one another. Dog sounded more in control... whenever God spoke, it was like he was straining just to speak.


    Of course, none of this could really distract me from a simple fact: yes, I was at the kitchen door, and I could quite clearly hear him inside talking to himself, but for the life of me I couldn''t figure out how to <em>open</em> the door. That may seem a bit daft, and proof that I have indeed gone insane. However: there was no door handle. This wasn''t even like the metal doors I''d seen before that slid into the ground and opened with a giant hatch wheel and hydraulic pistons. It was just a t metal door, devoid of any visible way of opening it, or any features at all other than a small que which read "Cantina Madrid kitchens."


    "Alright... so how the fuck do I get in here?" I said out loud, inspecting the door once again - maybe I missed something? There was a crackle and a pop from above me - it seems the dead man walking had more to say.


    "Damn!" Elijah said over the speaker. "Not only has that idiot smashed all the cameras in the kitchen, but he''s opened the gas valves as well! A single spark - or he sets off his cor - the whole casino''s going to burn, us along with him! The door is hermetically sealed due to the gas leak, but I should be able to override the lock from here... but only once. It won''t open again until you turn off the gas valves. Get in there and deal with that idiot, before he kills us all!"


    The door clicked and hissed, sliding outwards slowly. I slipped into a short hallway covered in stainless steel, and immediately felt lightheaded. Right. Okay. Gas. mmable gas. Gotta do this qui-


    Thud.


    Silence. Dog and God had stopped talking as soon as the door mmed shut behind me. That was either very good, or very bad. Either way, I had to be quick. There was arge pipe running from the ceiling to the floor, with a gas valve right in front of me about halfway down the hallway. The cloud of gas escaping it was so thick, it was like I was watching heat rising off pavement in the middle of the day. I held my breath, trying to listen for any change in noises from the other room... and slowly turned the valve until it closedpletely.


    "<strong>Hnnhh...</strong>" I heard Dog growl from the other room. While he spoke, I hunkered down close to the ground. Hopefully, I''d be able to sneak around him and turn all the gas valves off... The kitchen was fairlyrge, with more stainless steel kitchen surfaces, stainless steel cabs, and stainless steel everything else. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or the massive amount of gas in the room screwing with my head, or the fact that I was practically kissing the floor I was so low - whatever the reason, I couldn''t see the Nightkin anywhere in the room.


    But I could hear him.


    "<strong>Dog knows you''re there... can smell you... you...</strong>" There was a tter of something metal against the floor off to my right, and I heard a sort of indistinct grunt, followed by God''s voice. I tried to shut out the sound, stay as low as possible.


    "You have to... hnh! Get out! Get away from... us... while you..."


    SLAM.


    A giant fist mmed against the counter right above me, denting and warping against the super mutant''s massive ham-hands. The vibrations shook me so thoroughly, that I fell t on my ass. I had no choice but to look up... and up... and up some more. I always seem to forget how tall super mutants are...


    God - or, more likely, Dog - was looking down at me with his one good eye. He was snarling and growling and breathing heavily out of a face contorted into pure rage... directed at me.


    All of that was frightening enough. But what really made me want to empty my bowels was what I saw in his right hand. Both his hand and the small piece of metal he was holding were covered in a slimy, dripping fluid which looked like vomit. The small piece of metal was rounded, and had a small glowing red light - exactly like the light on my bomb cor.


    Oh fuck. He''d regurgitated the <em>detonator</em>.


    "<strong>You... Master?</strong>" Dog snarled at me, sniffing the air and getting closer. I backed up, trying my best to get on my feet; no use trying to be sneaky any more, I guess. "<strong>No... no, not Master. Dog remembers you.</strong>" He started slowly advancing, looming over me. I remembered when Lily (or was it Leo?) tried the same kind of thing in Charleston Cave, so I steeled myself and stood my ground... not that I had anywhere left to go. I''d already been backed against the wall. "<strong>Left Dog in cage. Mean to Dog... now, Dog...</strong>"


    Dog stopped in his tracks. At first I didn''t know what was going on... until he started backing up and started clutching his head with his free hand. He grunted, and spoke to me again, except now it was God speaking instead of Dog.


    "... hrnn! Dog... will kill us <em>both</em> unless you do something..." God seemed to stagger backward, and clutched at one of the kitchen counters trying to steady himself. As he frantically tried to find grip, he knocked a few more pots and pans off the counters and onto the ground. "Never... hnh! Never felt him so... so <em>strong</em> before! He won''t listen to my voice... he''s... he''s..." God doubled over for a few seconds... and then looked up at me again, a trail of saliva starting to drip out of his mouth.


    "<strong>...hungry.</strong>" Dog got up, and started toward me again, reaching out at me with his free hand. "<strong>Come here, so Dog can feed. Dog will chase you, break you until you no run anymore...</strong>"


    It was in that moment of sheer pants-wetting terror that I had a sudden sh of inspiration. It was a stupid idea, but it was the only one I had. And hell... it had worked on a Nightkin that had gone nuts before. Right?


    "Dog! Stay! If you don''t, Master will be mad!" I shouted with as much authority as I could muster. Right before Dog reached me, he hesitated, and his expression changed from rage to... was that confusion? I couldn''t really tell. He was still looming over me, and still looking down at me, his mouth working up and down slowly...


    "<strong>Hnh... Master?</strong>" Recognition finally dawned on Dog''s face. "<strong>Don''t want Master to be mad... what does Master want Dog to...</strong>" Dog shook his head, backed up half a step, and set his massive empty hand against a nearby kitchen counter.


    "...hrnnnn..." He only grunted, but I could tell that it was God speaking now, not Dog. "Get... get Dog to listen to you..." He pressed the hand holding the detonator against his chest, and looked up at me with a grimace. "...tell him... tell him to pull on his chain, as hard as... hnnh!" God doubled over again in pain, looking down... and then his head started to nod over and over again.


    "<strong>...Dog can! What ever Master wants, Dog can do! Please... please don''t be mad with Dog...</strong>"


    "Dog," I held up my hands in a disarming gesture, but didn''t advance. "The Master sent me. Hemands you to listen to my voice now. Can you do that?" I asked. Dog just kept nodding more and more.


    "<strong>Master? Master... Dog... Dog is listening...</strong>" He grimaced and shut his one good eye.


    "...both of us are." God spoke up. His voice still felt strained, but... it didn''t seem as bad now. "Tell him... tell him to listen to me. Then... then we can get out of this... finally... and..." God grunted, and his whole body shuddered; the metal of the kitchen counter started to warp and buckle under his hand, as all his weight was being pressed down on it.


    "<strong>...now Dog is listening to voice. Listening to your voice only...</strong>"


    "Dog, I need you to listen to the other voice inside you. Can you do that? Can you go to sleep, and let hime out?" Dog stopped nodding his head. He was silent for a very long while.


    "<strong>If... if other voicees out... Dog... Dog won''t wake up,</strong>" Dog''s whole body seemed to sag, and he backed up again, shuffling his feet rather than picking them up and setting them down. "<strong>Dog doesn''t want to sleep, please don''t make him...</strong>" Dog dropped down to one knee, his hand still trying to clutch at the kitchen counter.


    "... go to sleep..." God spoke up, not even bothering to pick his head up to look at me. "Good. Yes... make him sleep. Please..."


    "<strong>...don''t make Dog go to sleep... I... Dog is tired.</strong>" Dog''s whole body seemed to sway... what little of him was still upright, at least. He was perilously close to copsing entirely. "<strong>Can''t... keep eyes open... Sleep... Dog needs to sleep...</strong>"


    Despite my better judgment, I started advancing toward Dog... or God... or whoever he was going to be in the next few minutes. I reached out, and started patting him on his bald, blue skinned head, to try andfort him like I would a dying animal.


    "Close your eyes, Dog. It''s time for you to sleep now. Only open your eyes if the voice tells you." I said, stepping to the side; Dog''s body was swaying severely now. He tried to pick up his head onest time to look at me.


    "<strong>...I...</strong>" was all Dog was able to say before his good eye rolled back in his head, and he copsed face first onto the kitchen floor with a heavy thud that shook the whole room.


    I stood there for a few minutes, staring at the copsed Nightkin at my feet, trying to catch my breath. It was really hard to breath... and at first, I thought that it was just the adrenaline crash, but then I remembered:


    "Oh right, mmable gas. I need to fix that."


    There was only a total of three gas valves in the kitchen, and they were all easy enough to find. What''s more, there was a terminal mounted on one of the walls. It was unlocked, so it didn''t take me long to find something useful: a function for the "Kitchen Venttion System." There was a dull clunk in the ceiling, followed by a heavy whirring - and a few minutester, the air became much easier to breathe. Out of curiosity, I started poking around the rest of this terminal''s functions, just to see what I could find... and I was about to click on a functionbeled "Starlet Code Snippet" when I heard a crash, and a long series of hacking coughs from behind me.


    "Dog?" I called out, grabbing the spear off my back... just in case. On the far end of the kitchen, I saw a massive blue hand reach up and clutch at one of the counters. Soon after, the rest of the super mutant followed.


    "No..." It was God''s voice. "It''s... it''s me. You did it. You... I can''t feel him struggling any more."


    "Are you alright?" I asked, walking toward him and trying to put the spear back as nonchntly as possible. God stood up, and clutched at his head.


    "I''m..." God coughed again, and turned to look at me. "I''m in pain, and..." he grunted again, leaning on the counter. "I hate to say it, I''m starving."


    Perhaps putting the spear away had been a mistake.


    "You''re not going to try and eat me now, are you?" I asked, keeping my distance. At first, it sounded like the Nightkin was coughing more - but then I realized that he was <emughing</em>. That took me a minute to process. God...ughing? The universe must be broken. That''s the only exnation.


    "No... heh... no, I''m not going to eat you." He finally stoppedughing, and let out a heavy sigh. Slowly, he started to shake his head, and then he sat down, leaning his back against one of the kitchen counters. "All I wanted was for him to listen to me. So I could take care of him. Keep him from hurting himself..."


    I started walking toward him again, and was about to try and console him when he said something very unexpected.


    "And now I can."


    "Wait, what?" I said, stopping in my tracks. "You''re gonna have to run that by me again. I mean... isn''t Dog... uh... isn''t he gone now?" God looked up from his spot on the floor, and shook his head.


    "No, he''s not gone. Not entirely. He''s just... asleep. Deep inside, and away from... everything. One day, when he''s ready, I''ll... let him out. When we... understand each other."


    "So... he actually went to sleep?" I asked him. God nodded his head. "Well, fuck. I thought that was just a metaphor. And you''re sure he''s not going toe out and try to kill us anymore?"


    "Of course not," God grumbled. "I can tell... he''s not going to return anymore unless I decide to let him out."


    "So, does that mean you''re going to let go of the bomb cor detonator?"


    God looked down at his right hand, and just... stared at it for a few minutes. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he stared down at the vomit-stained hunk of metal. Slowly and steadily, he got up from his spot on the floor and tossed the detonator away, onto the counter between the two of us. It skidded and spun to a halt, leaving a thin trail of sick in its wake.


    "Oh, that''s wonderful." I said, picking up the detonator with a grimace. Ugh, it was all slimy. Not quite as bad as the feel of Cloud, though, so there was that. I turned it around in my hands, wiping away any flecks of vomit too thick to see through. "So, how the fuck do I reset this thing?"


    "Reset?" God asked, raising the brow over his one good eye. "Why do you -" I tapped the side of my own bomb cor with my thumb before he could finish.


    "Because of this. Until I figure out a way to get this thing off, I''m still working for that fucking old man. He''s gonna be a dead man when I get my hands on him... But right now, I''m just d whatever''s in the floor is messing with the signal."


    "Something in the floor?" God asked. I nodded, continuing to study the detonator.


    "When I turned on the casino''s power, he t out said that he would''ve blown all our cors once we got inside if he could - but he can''t. Something about the floor interfering with the signal, I don''t know, I''m still trying to work it out in my head... I figure if I can reset the signal, it might take the cor off thework - make Elijah think the cor''s been destroyed." That was true enough... No sense telling him this is what Elijah actually sent me in here to <em>do</em>.


    "Underneath the light, next to thetch," God spoke up, leaning over the counter toward me. "There should be a small pin switch. Find something small and sharp, like a needle. Press it and hold for ten seconds."


    "Well, that seems simple enough," I said, taking out one of my stimpacks and using the needle to reset the pin switches - first on his... and then on my own (after I found a surface reflective enough to use as a mirror). "So. What now? You gonna get out of here?"


    "No... at least... not yet. I''m still..." God grunted, and rolled one of his shoulders. "I''ve never beenpletely <em>used</em> to moving around in this body. I need some time to rest and... recuperate after fighting with Dog for so long... I''ll find my own way out. Eventually."


    "So, you''re seriously going to be alright then?" God nodded.


    "Yes. Things here... are... under control." God looked me straight in the eye, and his expression turned to stone. "Go. Find the one that dragged us here... and end him."


    When I left the Cantina Madrid and entered the lobby, I was suddenly hit by a familiar and wholly unwee sensation: there was a faint hint of something in the air that was stinging at my eyes, nose, and mouth. Was that? No... no, it couldn''t be. This ce was closed up. It couldn''t be Cloud...


    Could it?


    That''s about when I heard an odd sound: it was muffled by the weird acoustics, but it was a shuffling noise... a sound like heavy boots scratching against tiles. I was definitely no longer alone anymore.


    Put those two together, and whatever it meant, it couldn''t be good. I started running toward the noise, to try and find out what was going on. As I ran, another unwee sound graced my ears: Elijah''s voice over the speakers.


    "You''ve gotten one of the floors re-established, good... good." Elijah coughed several times, and then continued as if nothing was wrong. "essing the music archives now... only two more to go. Oh, what''s this?" By that point, I''d rounded the final corner, and was face to face with exactly what ''this'' is - there were a pair of Ghost People in the lobby.


    Right, break''s over.


    I pulled the spear off my back in a sh. It felt almost like instinct now. A pair of green eyes darted one way, and then the next; a spear started hurtling through the air directly at me. Either it went wide or I was quick enough to duck out of the way. I jammed my spear into its shoulder, grabbed it by the wrist, and pulled. There was a squelching sound, followed by a pop, and its arm was ripped messily free of its socket. I twirled the spear around in my hand, and sliced its head off for good measure before it copsed to the ground.


    "Oh..." I heard Elijah over the speakers as I moved, trying to get in a good position to engage the second Ghost Person. "It seems the Casino has uninvited guests... the Vi inhabitants were pounding at the doors - and now it seems they have found a way inside..."


    "Old news, old man!" I shouted, my eyes never leaving the other Ghost Person in the room; it was lugging around one of those Gas Bombs, but it hadn''t thrown it. Yet. It was just staring at me... "Fuck off if you''re not going to help!"


    "Hmm... let''s see... yes, here. Something to help you deal with them."


    There was a sound like a thunder crack in the middle of the room. halfway up the stairs; the Ghost Person stopped looking at me, and its attention was now focusedpletely on the scribble of blue cubes hovering in the air above the stairs and trying to take shape. The light shifted into focus with an electric fizzle, and suddenly another hologram of Vera Keyes was standing on the stairs.


    Well, that''s useful as a distraction if nothing else. I dropped the spear and pulled out the revolver under my arm - the Ghost Person was still staring up at the hologram, all its attentionpletely focused on the ghostly image of Vera.


    And here I was with a clear shot at the gas bomb it was holding. Unfortunately... I didn''t really get a chance to fire. In the half a second it took me to line up the shot, the hologram switched from blue to yellow, brining its hands up to its forehead, and then the hologram switched to red. As I started to squeeze the trigger, aser burst out of Vera Keyes'' eyes.


    Theser sliced through the air, hit the Ghost Person in the middle of its chest, and kept going until it sted a small hole in the tile floor behind it. The Ghost Person glowed red hot, and dissolved from the inside out, copsing into a pile of smoking ash on the floor. I don''t know how, but somehow the gas bomb waspletely unaffected by the disintegrating Ghost Person; it wobbled in ce for a second or two, and then copsed on its side, hitting the ground with a loud metal ng.


    The lobby fell silent as Vera switched from red to blue once again. I looked around, and tried to take stock of the situation; there weren''t any more Ghost People, but I finally saw how they''d got in. The front doors - which looked about 4 inches thick - were wrenched open, but not all the way. It looked like the doors had been bent inwards, but only after having been weakened by chunks of door that had been sliced and carved out. No points for figuring out how that had been done.


    "Damn," I said, walking up to the opening, letting out a low whistle. "What a thing to miss." I looked out, and down the stairs, toward the Vi below. I couldn''t really see the Vi, because beyond the stairs was this giant miasma of Cloud obscuring everything. I did see a few Ghost People on the stairs, but they were a long way off and didn''t notice me.


    I ran my fingers along the edge of the opening in the door. The amount of damage that had been done... I could only assume there were still more Ghost People that were already inside that I just hadn''t seen. I suppose it was just a matter of time before I ran into them.


    "I''m seeing more of the Vi inhabitants on the CCTV''s around the casino..." I heard Elijah''s voice over the speakers, confirming what I was thinking. "Deal with them - and don''t try and leave yourself, or I''ll let the cor do its work. You still have work to do." The speakers crackled and fell silent.


    I took onest look outside the shattered and warped front door... and then turned back into the casino.


    "Fuck... this day just won''t <strong>end</strong>."

 Chapter 52: Curtain Call at the Tampico

    Chapter 52: Curtain Call at the Tampico


    I got about halfway up the stairs before I came to a stop in front of the Vera hologram. She was standing in the center of the winding staircase with one hand on her hip, and one leg sticking out of the slit up her dress. The hologram was still and silent, the edges appearing to flicker slightly the closer I got.


    This was, I think, the closest I''d been to any of the holograms here (without one trying to kill me, that is), and it was astounding the amount of detail I could actually see. When it stopped flickering, I could make out things like individual hairs on her head, pores on her skin, and small details embroidered on her dress. If she wasn''t glowing blue and semi-transparent, I could''ve almost mistaken her for a real person.


    "Hey, uh... thanks for the save... back... there..." I trailed off, realizing what I was doing. I tried to shake it off - or shake away my increasing delirium. Take your pick. "Right. Okay. So, I''m talking to holograms now. I guess it''s no stranger than talking to ED-E and expecting a response..."


    I smirked on the outside, but just mentioning ED-E got me thinking about my friends back in the Mojave. ED-E, Boone, Veronica, Arcade, Raul... Cass... my thoughts lingered on Cass for quite a while. I still had no real idea how long I''d been here. Did they even know I was gone? What had happened to Veronica after we got separated? What if I fucked up, and really did die here? Would they even notice? I''d been so busy just trying to survive this hellhole that I hadn''t really had time to think...


    While I was standing there, lost in thought, the hologram was silently staring at me with unblinking eyes. I shook my head, trying to get back to focusing on the task at hand. Eventually, I moved, and her head followed me with an unnatural precision that creeped me out to no end.


    "Excuse me gorgeous," I said, trying to slide past the hologram; I had no idea if I could walk through it, and wasn''t really willing to test the theory... I mean, hell, this thing is able to shootsers out of its face, so who the fuck knows what would happen if I tried to walk through it? "If you''ll just let me slide on past here, I''ve got ces to be. Keep watch on the door for me, make sure no more of the Ghost People get in, would you?"


    The Vera hologram continued to stare at me, following me as I walked past... and then, very slowly, the hologram nodded.


    "Yeah, that wasn''t creepy or anything."


    I stepped out of the elevator, and walked into the small lobby of the Tampico Theater. There was a counter right in front of me with a signbeled "box office" and a pair of double doors next to it. There were about half a dozen posters hanging on the walls which at one point were probably lit up. Most of them were faded and nearly illegible, but two were still distinct enough: Vera Keyes and Dean Domino.


    "Heh..." I smirked to myself as I walked past Dean''s poster in the theater. "Guess Dean''s mustache wasn''t manly enough to survive ghoulification."


    There were three ways to go from here: another set of double doors right in front of me, and two short hallways on either side. There was a glowing blue light down the right hallway - another vending machine. Maybe I''ll -


    Beep.


    Okay, maybe I <em>won''t</em> head down that way... there must be more of those static spewing speakers somewhere... I just hope they''re the unshielded type. I didn''t have the ammo to waste on speakers I couldn''t blow up. I backed up until my cor stopped beeping, and tried the tworge doors. I jiggled the handle - nothing. I threw my shoulder against the door, and it made a solid enough thud, but it still didn''t budge.


    "Hmph. Let''s see what''s behind door number three then." I said, walking down thest hallway. I came to a corner and... there was an open door. I started to feel a rumbling in the pit of my stomach... something wasn''t right.


    "This is a trap." I voiced out loud. "This is just... it''s too easy. Too much like I''m being funneled this way. This <em>has</em> to be a trap."


    So, what did I end up doing?


    I walked through the open door anyway. It''s not like I had anywhere else to go. And besides, if this really was a trap, best thing to do would be to spring it - find out exactly what was going on, and be proactive in dismantling it. Better than sitting around doing nothing.


    Of course, when the door mmed shut behind me, I started to think that perhaps this hadn''t been the best idea after all.


    Okay, stay calm Sheason. Take stock of your surroundings, figure out what''s going on. The interior of the Tampico theater was a lot like the Shark Club back in New Reno, where I''d seen Bruce Isaac that one time. Really high ceiling, arge stage dominating the center of the room small circr tables filling up the avable floor space, half-moon booths lining the walls, and a bar in the back. The whole theater was dimly lit - except for a bit of blue underlighting from behind the bar, a "Dean Domino" sign in big neon letters hanging in front of the curtains on the stage... oh, and a whole load of red lights from shielded speakers lining the walls.


    Right. Definitely being funneled somewhere.


    It took a while, and a lot of experimentation to see exactly where I could go without the speakers setting off my cor, but I eventually found myself in the center of the room, right next to the stage. I hadn''t noticed it on the way there (mostly because I was too busy looking at the position of the speakers on the wall), but there was a stand right next to the stage, and a few pages of paper sitting on it.


    "Hmm..." I grabbed the sheets to get a closer look at them - and suddenly heard a clink of metal against tile. I looked down at my feet: there was a small key on the floor that had fallen out of the pages. I put the sheets back and knelt down to pick up the key.


    "So..." I heard a smooth voice, amplified and echoing off the walls. "You showed." I got up and waspletely unsurprised to see Dean. He''d pulled back one section of the red curtains, and was standing on a catwalk behind the stage.


    "Dean," I growled, still clutching the key in my hand. I had no idea what it opened, but maybe if I got him to talk... "I thought you might be the one behind funneling me into this linear path." Dean smirked, and started chuckling to himself.


    "Felt the cor start kicking again as soon as the elevator doors rattled open," Dean reached into his jacket, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. "Think you''re going to up-stage me, here at the Sierra Madre?" He shook his head, and lit his smoke, making ''tsk, tsk,'' sounds. "I don''t think so. Now that I''m inside... well... I suppose I don''t need you anymore, do I?"


    "So, stabbing me in the back for the Sierra Madre, then?" I looked around the room as I spoke. Was he stalling me, or was he just gloating?


    "You think I''m the bad guy here?" Dean asked, his voiceced with faux-indignation. I shrugged.


    "Well, you <em>are</em> monologuing at me. Isn''t that what bad guys do?" I asked. Dean''s smile evaporated, and he started scowling at me.


    "You think you''re so clever, don''t you. But I''m not the one pping bomb cors on innocent folks and flicking the switch. And I''m not stabbing you in the back. I was facing you the whole time."


    "Yeah, because that makes it so much better," I muttered under my breath.


    "This heist?" Dean pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and leaned on the railing. "I nned it lifetimes ago. You and that old man? You''re nothing but tourists. So... it''s time for a little show. I''ll just grab a seat up here, and watch how this ys out from backstage. Security can handle it from here." So, he <em>was</em> stalling for time - he must have some way of activating the holographic security. Well, two can y that game.


    "And the cors?" I rapped a knuckle against the bomb cor around my neck. "You sound awfully eager to kill someone whose life is tied to yours." That seemed to stagger him a bit, but not for long.


    "No... no... the cors... I know what happened now. Sure, mine activated... but it feels different. The electronic tap-dance inside... I can kill you and make it out while security is busy frying you to a crisp. Hands are clean, then smooth sailing to the vaults of the Sierra Madre." Dean looked immensely smug... but if I could keep him talking, he''d probably spill his whole n, and I could turn it on it''s head.


    "I''m that predictable, am I?" I said, nodding my head. "You''re probably right..." That''s when I saw where I needed to go: there was a door off to my right that, more likely than not, led backstage - and while there was a speaker on the wall, it was broken, with no light, and pieces hanging off the wall. that meant I''d be able to open the door without worrying about the speakers blowing my head off. Probably.


    "I''m not a betting man. I''vee too far to leave it to chance," Dean took a draw from his cigarette, and was clearly enjoying looking down on me from a quite literal sense. "Way I figure it, you''ll try and run for the exit, and only I know where the key is - and where the safest ce in the whole theater is: backstage. You?" Deanughed a few times. "You''re trapped down there, and you couldn''t shut off the speakers, unlock the doors, or cancel security if you tried."


    Jackpot.


    "Alright... So as long as I make sure I don''t run for the exit, I head backstage, disable every speaker, grab every key, then shut down security... yeah, that n sounds pretty clear to me, Dean. Thanks."


    I''m sure if Dean still had skin, he would have nched.


    "Wh- what now? Try ande back here? No..." Dean chuckled nervously. "No, you belong out in the audience... I mean, not like... uh... you even <em>could</em> get backstage. That key you snagged - it won''t work!" I think this was the most nervous I''d ever seen Dean - barring, perhaps, our first meeting when I told him our cors were linked.


    "I guess I''ll just have to try the key and see." I said, holding it up to make sure he knew I still had it. Dean started looking around frantically - and, very slowly, the curtains started to close.


    "Oh, of all the - where the hell are those stupid holograms already?" He was muttering to himself, but his voice still carried. What he said next, I knew he meant for me: "Even if you do get back here, you won''t live long, trust me!"


    As soon as Dean slipped out of sight, I made my move, vaulting over a nearby table and running for the backstage door. My cor started beeping at first - I must have slipped into the range of another speaker - but by the time I threw myself into the back wall, my cor had gone cold.


    There was an electric fizzle in the air - and more of the holographic cube-scribbles were starting to coalesce into actual shapes all around the room. If the timing was the same as the Vera hologram in the lobby, I had maybe three seconds before they turned into security holograms and fried me to a crisp. Maybe. Given how unreliable my internal sense of time was being, it could have been more, or it could have been less.


    I only really started to get worried when the key didn''t turn. I nced over my shoulder; there were three of the holograms in the room starting to take shape. I punched the door, right next to the lock to try and shake it loose - it felt like the lock was just stuck. The key turned, and I bolted in through the door - and not a second too soon. As I mmed the door shut behind me, I heard a crackle of electric fire in the air, and aser st hit the wall.


    I was in a hallway. If what Dean said about the backstage being safest was true, then that probably meant the holograms weren''t programmed to patrol back here. But the downside was my eyes were starting to sting and water. I looked off to my right, down the hallway, and sure enough, there was an emergency exit that looked like a pile of rubble, with a thick miasma of Cloud trying to push its way into the casino.


    "Damn..." I breathed, trying to hold back a cough. The cough made me look down involuntarily, and I noticed something peculiar - a strange blue light on the floor,ing from behind me. I looked around, and found one of those circr hologram emitters mounted on the wall, glowing blue. "Huh... I wonder..." The casing came apart with a pop, like the emitter in the medical district, and with a few pulled wires, the blue emitter dimmed and went dead.


    "One down..." I muttered, moving forward and hugging the walls to avoid the Cloud. It was getting really hard to brea-


    Beep.


    "Damnit!" I rasped, running forward. I had to check to see if the speaker was shielded or not. I got to the end of the hallway, rounded a corner, past a door with a star on it, rounded another corner, and looked up as the beeping around my neck started to get faster - there was a speaker hanging on the wall.


    And after a point nk shot from the revolver, the speaker was nothing more than a few pieces of metal junk hanging on the wall. The beeping around my neck fell silent, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. With any luck, any of the other speakers back here would be destroyed just as easily.


    I backtracked slightly - back to the door with the star on it. This was Dean''s dressing room, by the look of it. Maybe I''d find something useful in here - like another key. Maybe a way to shut down all the holograms, or the speakers.


    As it happened, I did find a key after tearing apart most of the room - to what, I''m not sure. But that wasn''t all I found. There was a safe built into the wall, right above his desk and next to one of those mirrors with the lights ringing the edges... but it hadn''t been closed properly. It looked closed from a distance, but... I grabbed the edge, to see what was inside: a holotape. It wasn''t marked. Feeling a tug of curiosity at the back of my head, I grabbed the tape, and plugged it into my Pip Boy. It contained an audio file.


    "Pretty as a picture..." Dean''s voice issued out of my Pip Boy''s speaker. If this was recorded when I thought it was, then his voice had hardly changed from when he still had skin. That''s when I heard another voice - a feminine voice that I''d heard enough of over the radio that it was unmistakable: Vera Keyes.


    "Uh... Dean, I..." She sounded nervous. "I didn''t hear youe in."


    "I''m not wearing my dancing shoes, so I walk a little softly now," There was a strange sort of measured precision to his words - like he''d rehearsed them. "What, did you think I was a Chinaman? Come to cut your American throat?"


    "Dean, really."


    "What - no hug? Come here." There was that same faux-indignation I''d heard earlier.


    "Dean, I''m getting ready." It sounded a little like Vera was trying to physically push him away, but I couldn''t be sure. The background noises on the recording weren''t distinct enough from the voices.


    "You sing like a bird, pop the safe, and we''re as through as through can be." Wait, ''pop the safe?'' Was Dean... was he talking about...


    "Dean... I just... about tonight, I... I don''t know." There was a definite waver in Vera''s words now.


    "You don''t know?" Dean asked, the venom in his words bing more and more apparent. "I ask you for one... simple... <em>favor</em>... and you tell me ''no''?"


    "I didn''t say no," Vera blurted out, almost a little too fast... and then added "I just said that... I don''t think..."


    "You''re right, you <strong>don''t</strong> think," Dean growled. "I don''t need you - I''ll send you back to the farm, worse off than you were, because you''ll have seen the Sierra Madre and had to let it all go." His voice was taking on a slightly dangerous sounding edge now. I was almost d this was just audio, and there were no visuals to apany it. "I could have gotten any leggy dame out of Hollywood to get out here and y Sinir''s heart strings. You just happened to be the one I caught, it was really your own fault. A little too much into the chems and meds, and..." Dean stopped abruptly, and I could hear faint sobbing in the background. "Aw, shh-shh-shh-shhh... Don''t cry. Look, I''m not trying to hurt you. Just onest little job. A little less dirty, a little less messy... Remember: he <em>trusts</em> you, Vera. And so do I. After this, I promise you - all those other holotapes? They''ll just go away."


    There was a very long pause.


    "O-of course, Dean," Vera finally said. The recording clicked, and the speaker on my Pip Boy went silent.


    "Well now," I said, pulling the cord out of my Pip Boy. "This changes thendscape somewhat..." I had to move on. I made sure to grab the key, and kept the revolver in my hand - I had no idea how many more of those speakers were out there, and I wanted to be ready.


    Beep.


    Well, that didn''t take long. I was in some kind of prop room... I think. Whatever it was, there was a whole load of junk everywhere, and a speaker on the far wall. And then... the speaker was gone. I checked the revolver to see how much ammo I still had left - three rounds left in the cylinder. Fuck. I need to find more ammo - especially for the holorifle. I still only had the two microfusion cells left for that...


    I was just about to leave when I saw another blue glow - this time, it wasing from behind a nearby couch. Sure enough, there was another hologram emitter, which I made short work of disabling, like the first one. That made two. And if there were three holograms out there...


    "At least this part of the casino feels more familiar..." I looked around, really starting to appreciate the fact that this was the first ce in the actual casino that wasn''t spotless. I started chuckling to myself softly. "Hell, maybe the hole in the wall back there is letting all the filth in. It''s almost like I''m back in the real world again."


    I followed the next short hallway, walking past a poster for something called "Love Sets Sail!" an old world movie with Vera Keyes. There were three doors I could take: one on my left, with aputer terminal next to it, one on my right, with a star on it, and one right in front of me at the end of the hall - which, if my sense of direction was still intact, led back into the rest of the theater.


    "Well, this is familiar..." I said, trying to figure out which door I should take first. And in the end, I decided not to take any of them. At least, not at first: I went to the terminal mounted on the wall, find out what it was here for. After everything else I''d had to deal with, the security on this was practically non-existent, and before long I was in thework, and found something very, very useful: The Tampico''s ''performance protocols.''


    "Hmm... let''s see here..." I started talking out loud as I tried to work my way through theputer. "The system is currently set to ''preparations,'' and that''s turned the sentries on, the ambient audio system on, and the stage audio off... I wonder..." A few keystrokester, and I''d turned off all the remaining speakers in the theater. I wasn''t able to turn off the hologramspletely; there was an override in the system that I couldn''t turn off, which meant the only way to turn off security...


    "... is to start the show. Hang on... what is that... ''please find copy of Dean Domino''s ''I Saw Her Yesterday'' and deliver to projectionist in the booth.'' Hmm..." I stepped back from theputer, and turned to face the door with the star - Vera Keyes'' dressing room. I tried the door handle. Locked. No surprise there. I tried the key I found in Dean''s dressing room... and wouldn''t you know it, it fit. How about that.


    Dean''s dressing room hardly had anything cluttering it up, but Vera''s room... it was an absolute mess. There was clothing everywhere, draped over almost everything. There was a radio in the corner, but it looked like it had exploded from the inside. Every once in a while, I''d seen an empty syringe - they were empty Med-X, mostly, and at least one depleted Super Stimpack. And then, in one of the drawers in the desk beneath her mirror, I found a holotape, with a simplebel: "I Saw Her Yesterday."


    Okay. That''s taken care of... now. How am I going to get this to the back of the theater?


    Very cautiously, I opened the door that led back into the rest of the theater. I peered out through the crack - and saw that one of the speakers which had been glowing red now had no lights at all. Good, so my finagling theputer system had actually worked. Good to know. I tried to find the holograms... I couldn''t see any of th- wait, there''s one. In fact... it was the <em>only</em> one I could see. Right at the back of the theater. The other two were conspicuously absent.


    If only I''d been able to find a stealth boy, I thought to myself as I slipped out of the door and into the nearest cover I could find. So far, the hologram hadn''t noticed me - it was walking back and forth along the back wall of the theater, near the bar. Above it, I could see a projection booth, and a set of stairs along the back wall that led up there - if I was lucky.


    I think I got about halfway - maybe three-fourths, if I''m being generous - before the hologram spotted me. I heard an electric fizzle in the air behind me - the same I always heard when the holograms had spotted someone - and the light spilling on the wall abruptly switched from blue to yellow.


    "Fuck it!" I yelled, abandoning all pretense of stealth, and started running for the stairs as fast as I could. "Roll the dice!" I vaulted the railing, and poured on the speed. By the time I reached the base of the stairs, the light behind me had switched from yellow to red. C''mon you sonofabitch, move! Move, before you-


    FZZT!


    I didn''t see it, but aser cut through the air. I know this, because it clipped me in the side of my torso. I lost my bnce, spun around in the air, and my back hit the wall as I fell onto thending on my side. I''m sure I let out a loud and violent expletive as well, but I can''t quite remember what was said. What I do know is that I managed to think through the pain long enough to see the hologram on the far side of the theater start charging up another shot. I pushed off the adjacent wall with my feet as hard as I could; I slid along the floor, and straight into the opposite wall, just as anotherser st sliced through the air where I''d been lying seconds before.


    "S-sonuva... bitch..." I breathed through gritted teeth, clutching my side and trying to scramble to my feet. I didn''t know if a stimpack would do anything to my side. See, when they don''t disintegrate people,ser beams have the nasty habit of leaving a smoking, cauterized,pletely fused wound. On the plus side, I wouldn''t die of blood loss... on the down side, I''d probably have to cut away the fused flesh before I tried healing it with any kind of chems. And no matter which way you spin it... that was going to <em>hurt</em>.


    I climbed up the stairs, clutching my side with one hand and the holotape in the other. The projection booth was small, but overlooked the whole theater; I looked over the railing, and saw the security hologram that had shot me walking back and forth right below the projection booth, acting as if nothing had happened.


    "Guard''s don''t look up," I said with a smirk.


    As soon as I popped the holotape into the projector, everything around the theater changed. Spotlights all around the theater lit up the stage, and the ceiling was lit up like the night sky with dozens of tiny lights. The hologram directly below me fizzled away, but then more appeared. At first I thought something had gone wrong, and more security holograms were on their way, but when I looked closer, I realized... it was something else entirely.


    All around the theater, I saw several holograms of men and women in what looked like expensive pre-war outfits sitting at tables, or dancing with each other on empty spaces on the floor. On stage, I saw a holographic man in a tux and sunsses, swaying at the microphone stand in the center of the room, with a holographic band behind him. Music wasing from... somewhere.


    I walked through the room, and all the holograms seemed to ignore me; their attention was fixed on the holographic Dean Domino singing on stage. I pulled the holorifle off my back, and made my way back to the only door I hadn''t checked - the door that led backstage. With any luck, I wouldn''t have to kill Dean, but... frankly, the chances of that were looking incredibly slim. Even with VATS, I probably wouldn''t be able to kill him in one hit if I used the revolver, and if I used the spear or the knife on my belt I''d have to get closer than I think he''d let me.


    I just had to make sure I didn''t miss. I only had two shot left with the holorifle...


    When I came to the door, part of me wanted to open the door slowly, try and take him down with stealth... but Dean was probably ready for me. He was probably watching the door with a gun drawn, and as soon as it started moving, he''d shoot through the door before I was finished. So instead I readied the rifle and kicked down the door. He was inside, standing at the top of some stairs, with his pistol drawn.


    "Drop the gun, Dean," I gave him the same voice as I used on Dog to try and distract him, maybe give me an opening - or maybe get us both out of here alive. Who knows? "It''s over."


    "All right, you''re resourceful, I''ll give you that." Dean tried to maintain hisposure as the two of us continued our Mexican standoff. "But it''s going to take a lot more than juggling keys and shooting speakers to stop me. As I see it? All I need to do is kill you, then make a run for the exit. You do the same, you''ll be wing at the lock until your head blows off. So... maybe you and I should have a little chat - just like we did when you first waltzed into town."


    "Alright..." I said, not even thinking of lowering the rifle. "Maybe we should start with that tape I found in your dressing room." Dean looked annoyed.


    "You just don''t stop robbing casinos, do you?" He shook his head at me, obviously unaware of the hypocrisy. "What about it? Do you want me to give you a standing ovation for being so... ''clever'' then?"


    "Why were you ckmailing Vera Keyes to break into the Sierra Madre?" I asked.


    "ckmail is such a strong word, isn''t it? I asked her, and she said yes. But then... she started to get cold feet. Personally, I me Sinir... he was such a victim, that maybe she felt it would be too easy. It doesn''t matter."


    "But what did you want her to do?" I knew she was important, but I couldn''t figure out exactly why...


    "Sinir built this whole town to amodate her. Same with the casino''s <em>voice lock</em>. He wanted to make sure she had ess to everything. And since I already had ess to Vera... well, that meant I had ess to the vault, too."


    Wait, hang on. Voice lock? Was that... I had to find out more. I''m just d Dean loved to hear himself talk so much. Longer he talked, the more likely it was that he was going to say something I could use against him.


    "So... what were you ckmailing her with?" Dean startedughing.


    "What <em>wasn''t</em> I ckmailing her with? Chem use, indiscretions, more chem use... the usual Hollywood tune. Like Sinir, people are the architects of their own misfortunes. Leave themselves wide open for someone to waltz right in and take what they want... as long as they take a single step into the trap. Get a few pictures, get a little dirt... and that person''s your piano. Vera? Med-X was her thing. Even superstimmed herself for the after-rush."


    "So, why did you need her?"


    "Because she could get closer to Sinir than I ever could. He built this ce for her... well, after the two ''chanced'' to meet. Sinir was already puppy-eyed, so all I had to do was the introductions. She smiled, fluttered her eyes, showed a little leg... and he built this ce for her. Even made her the key to his vault, like a joke... because of her name." Dean voice went low, and he growled: "Her fake Hollywood name." He cleared his throat and continued. "Except Sinir didn''t know I''d been there first. I could twist her whatever direction I wanted. All she had to do was get inside the Sierra Madre for the G, then use her voice to open the door. After that... smooth sailing. Would have been the biggest heist in history. Sinir left holding the bag."


    "So what happened?" I asked. Dean scoffed.


    "The Bomb. Vera got sealed in here. A few hundred years go by, give-or-take. Almost the end of the story... I waited an entire lifetime, sitting in that Vi, watching it fall apart. Sinir''s Sierra Madre towering over everything - untouched! Then <em>you</em>e along. You and the old man, thinking you can just take it all from me. I nned all this, I made it all happen - not you! Now, I''m going to finish the job. Rob the Sierra Madre, rip out it''s heart...st chapter of Frederick Sinir, close the book..."


    "Why?" I asked. Dean seemed taken aback by the question.


    "I''m sorry? What do you mean, why?"


    "Why go to all this trouble? I mean... it''s been centuries. What was your problem with Sinir, anyway?"


    "Problem?" Dean acted insulted. Honestly, I couldn''t tell if he was being genuine or not. "All high-and-mighty, that was my problem. Lording it over everyone. Acting so self-righteous, like nothing could touch him. He was the one with the problem. Never got mad at anything. Nothing seemed to shake him. Even after..." Dean grimaced, like he was trying to keep from frothing with rage. "Even after his life kept getting dragged through the dirt! Always kept looking for the bright, shining future in everything! So... I decided to <em>take</em> everything from him."


    "But... that doesn''t... what did he even <strong>do</strong> to you?"


    "Do to me? Weren''t you listening? He thought he was <em>better</em> than me. Look around!" He started waving around with his free hand; I hoped that he would get carried away and point his gun away from me, but no such luck. "This big casino, this big colossal monument - do you really think it was for some woman? Some vacuous, leggy dame? No... no, this ce is all ego, all self-righteous-in-lights, fit him perfect. Had to take him down a few pegs... bring him down to my level. ''Begin again?'' Some things you don''t get up from... and I was going to <em>prove</em> it."


    "Look, forget Sinir. Even if Vera was the key, she''s dead." Maybe I could still convince him to back down... but no. Dean just smirked. He must have something else up his sleeve.


    "I only saw her yesterday... well... a <em>few</em> yesterdays. I didn''t get to where I am by not being prepared. The one who makes all the hand signs, a little tight around the corners of her mouth? I was the one who put her in the Clinic. Tuned her like an instrument. If she heals up, it''s not going to be her voice speaking any more. That is... if the Sierra Madre didn''t get to her. If it did, well... I''m sure there''s more than enough of Vera around for me to spend a few years piecing a book together."


    Son of a bitch. So that''s why Elijah wants to unlock the sound archives - he''s trying to rebuild Vera''s voice to open the vault!


    "And if she''s alive?" I asked.


    "Then she can make some beautiful music... but I''m not a betting man. So I''m not banking on it. The long and short of it - all I have to do is piece together little Miss Vera Keyes'' song in the right order, and the Sierra Madre will open it''s legs... and I''m in business."


    "Yeah... you''re right. You''re <strong>not</strong> a betting man. But I am. And I''m betting you have the key to the exit on you. Am I right?" Dean frowned.


    "Lucky guess... You sure are a piece of work, I''ll give you that. Always asking questions when you should be shooting... Next time you get a chance to kill someone, don''t hesi-"


    CLUNK!


    The holorifle cubes hit Dean square in the chest and knocked him back,unching him into the back wall with a crack and a thud. He was lying there at the top of the stairs, with blue holographic cubesing off him like smoke.


    "Good advice," I said, walking up the stairs. My cor hadn''t started beeping yet. Was he still alive? When I got to the top of the stairs, the holographic cubes had disappeared. He was still holding onto his pistol, but just barely. I stepped on his wrist, and the gun fell to the ground with a tter.


    "Th-this... isn''t..." Dean was having trouble talking, and frankly, I couldn''t me him - his chest looked like it had been hit with a sledgehammer, and blood was leaking out of every orifice on his face. "... how it''s s...s...supposed to... e-end..."


    I knelt down over him and punched him really hard in the middle of his face. I heard a sharp crack of bone under my knuckles, his sunsses shattered, and his whole body went limp. I reached into his jacket, and there in the top pocket was the key.


    Beep.


    Right, time to go. I grabbed all I needed from the inside of his jacket, and started running. I practically vaulted down the stairs, and ran through the theater, trying to avoid all the holograms.


    Beep. Beep. Beep.


    I got to the door, twisted the key in the lock, and shoved the door open with my shoulder when the lock clicked. I kept running, jumping over the counter and practicallyunched myself at the elevator door.


    When I hit the button, the beeping kept getting faster... the doors of the elevator opened agonizingly slow.


    Beep-beep-beep-beep


    "C''mon, c''mon, c''mon!" I said, grabbing at the doors and trying to get them open. When it was wide enough to slip through, I threw myself into the elevator, hit the button for the lobby, and held down the ''door close'' button.


    Beepbeepbeepbeepbe-


    As soon as the doors shut, the beeping around my neck stopped... and thankfully, wasn''t reced with an explosion. I let out a sigh of relief, and leaned against the back wall of the elevator, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor.


    I looked down at my hands. I''d left the key to open the door in the lock, but that wasn''t the only thing I''d stolen from Dean''s jacket: in my right hand, I had a packet of cigarettes, and in my left, his lighter. I opened the packet of smokes, grabbing one with my mouth, and flicking the zippo open.


    "Guess that''s yourst curtain call, Dean." I said to myself, lighting the cigarette and snapping the lighter shut. "Hope it was worth it."

 Chapter 53: Last Luxuries

    Chapter 53: Last Luxuries


    Ding.


    I tossed away the spent cigarette when the elevator doors opened, and pulled the spear off my back. Knowing my luck, more Ghost People had wandered back into the lobby, and thest thing I wanted was to be caught off guard. Just because I didn''t hear any breathing or shuffling... When I got closer to the staircase and the Vera hologram guarding it, however, I did hear something: the overhead speakers crackling and fizzling into life.


    "Another fragment," Elijah''s voice echoed throughout the lobby. "Good. Almost have the entirety of what I need from the music archives. Once you have thest fragment, you can thread the archives together at the main floor terminal." Hmm. So, even if he had ess to the sound archives, it sounds like he can''t ess the vault himself. And speaking of sounds...


    I wheeled around with the spear raised just as a bear trapper tried to ambush me from behind. The des of the spear hit the bear trap with a resounding metal ng. I used what little leverage I had to shove the bear trap toward the ground, throwing the Ghost Person off bnce - not much, but enough. I mmed my right elbow into its gas mask with a crack, and followed up with a left hook.


    "You know, I''ve just about had enou- urk!" I didn''t get the chance to finish, as I found a hand reaching up and grabbing me by the throat. The emotionless green eyes stared up at me as the grip around my neck tightened... and the expression didn''t change when I grabbed one of the tubes on its face and sliced up through its arm with the knife on my belt.


    "Fuckers don''t know when to quit, do you?" I said, pulling the severed hand away from my neck. The Ghost Person just wobbled there staring at the stump of its arm gushing white fluids; I jammed the knife into its neck for good measure, and kicked it in the middle of its chest, sending it sliding across the floor.


    "Right..." I tossed the hand away and picked up my spear. "So,st one. Where is that elevator to the Executive Suites?"


    Ding.


    I scanned the hallway with my holorifle when the elevator doors opened. Nothing. At least, no targets. After I shouldered the rifle and took a few steps forward, I noticed that this floor was still tainted by Cloud. It was faint, but... it was definitely there.


    "Guess this ce is falling apart just as much as the Vi below," I muttered, looking around. The decor was simr to downstairs - except there was carpet lining the floors instead of tile. And this ce was much, much filthier than anything on the lower levels. Wherever the Cloud wasing from, it was sure leaving a mess.


    When I got to the end of the hall, I started hearing several new sounds. The first was... a female voice? It was faint, indistinct, and off in the distance, but it sort of sounded like a woman talking. Of course, the other sound I heard was more familiar, and much more unwee: the crackle and pop of Elijah making contact through the speakers again.


    "Find the mute and deal with her." He said with a cough. "She''s some-" and with that, his voice disappeared, reced with static and feedback noises like nails on a chalkboard.


    "The fuck?" I said aloud, looking around. The static continued for a few seconds, but then it slowly evaporated - and was reced by a woman''s voice.


    "Hello? Hello, can you - engh! - can you hear me?" I heard this new voice over the speakers. Except... it wasn''t <em>quite</em> new. I''d heard it plenty sinceing to the Madre: it sounded like Vera Keyes.


    "If this is who I think it is, this is Christine... er... the mute woman, from the Brotherhood." She said - and then I remembered what Dean had said earlier, about putting her in the Auto-Doc back in the clinic, and how he tried to give her Vera''s voice.


    Guess she healed up.


    "Thought you might appreciate a reprieve from Elijah. Don''t know if he''s noticed that I hijacked his signal... I''m in an Old World hotel suite, somewhere on this floor. High ss, two rooms - and the exit''s sealed. All the doors are locked down, security''s activated... I''m picking up emitter signals lighting up all - eugh!- all over this floor. Floor''s got holographic security. Nottest tech... field-of-view targeting systems. Primitive, but... familiar. I''ll do what I can from here to try and shut them down. If you can - nngh! - stay alive long enough to find your way to me, we can talk more."


    And with that, the speakers in the ceiling cut out. All I heard now were the indistinct sounds from elsewhere on the floor.


    Right. Well, guess I should go find her then. At least she''s not trying to kill me, like the other two... I hope.


    I made my way cautiously through the hallways, staying low and trying to make as little noise as possible. I had no idea if any of those ambient speakers that could set off my cor were on this floor, and I didn''t want to take any chances. The voices - it was definitely multiple voices - were getting louder, but not more distinct. I couldn''t make sense of it. What made even less was what I saw when I opened the door to one of the suites.


    "Okay, now that is just downright unsettling." In the center of the room was a perfectly made bed, and two skeletonsying on top. Everything in the room was lined with a thin film of what was either Cloud (or just dirt and grime, take your pick) and one of the walls had copsed, but I just couldn''t look away from the ancient bodies on the bed. It didn''t look like they''d died there - it was like they''d been <em>ced there</em> after expiring, and then their skin and organs had just melted away after the centuries.


    I tried to shake away my unease as I walked through the hole in the wall. It led into another of the hotel rooms - and again, there was a bed, with a skeleton in a simr situation. It took me a minute, but I finally figured it out... Elijah had said something about holographic security moving people when I''d woken up in the casino earlier. These... <em>bodies</em>, they must have been the guests who''d gotten trapped here when the bombs dropped. That must have been why I hadn''t seen any bodies anywhere else in the casino: they all died when they couldn''t get out, and then security <em>brought the bodies back to their rooms</em>.


    "Sinir?" a voice from a nearby room called out. Instinctively, I pulled the revolver and found some cover. "Sinir, is that you? Sinir!?" That sounded like Vera Keyes. Was it a recording of some kind?


    "Sinir, I''m trapped. Please... oh God, the... the security holograms... they won''t let me out!" I rounded a corner, and listened at a nearby door - the voice was definitelying from within. And it was moving. I cautiously opened the door, and it kept talking.


    "They''re keeping me here. I''m going to die here... amongst the ghosts..." At first I thought it was one of the security holograms... but when it walked past the door I''d opened just a crack, it didn''t look anything like the others. It looked like the Vera Hologram on the fountain, or on the stairs. It was sauntering through the rooms, and it was definitely where the voice wasing from - the lips were moving in time with the words.


    "I... I''m still being recorded by the holographic systems. Came so far to be here. Now... now I just want to leave." The hologram walked past me, through the frame of a door in the middle of another hole in the wall. I watched as it looked around every once in a while, scanning the room - for targets, presumably - and continuing to speak.


    "Please... let me leave?" I shut the door, going to my Pip Boy''s map. Maybe I could use it to figure out a way around here. I just wish shutting the door would shut out the sound...


    "We all pay for what we''ve done. I''m... I''m so sorry, Sinir. Sorry, I... I should have trusted you." The map wasn''t all that much help. It was mapping out my location as I went, but the range was pitiful. If I wanted to map my way through... I''d have to just wander around until I found what I was looking for.


    "Sinir, where did you go? Why did you leave me? Sinir? Sinir!" I cracked open the door again. I couldn''t see the hologram, but I could hear it... I waited a few seconds, and watched as it passed by the door - the same way it had before. It must be set to patrol this area, and nothing else.


    "The doors, they... they sealed. I... I can hear the other guests, screaming to be let out. To... to let go..." Maybe I could use the patrol pattern to my advantage - sneak around it. With all the beds, couches, chairs, and wardrobes I''d seen, I''d at least have more cover than in the Tampico.


    "Sinir? Sinir, is that you? Sinir!?" I waited until the hologram passed, and then ducked into the room, sticking to the shadows as best I could. The sight of the hologram was unnerving... partly because I was guessing that this was one of the security holograms, taking the form of Vera Keyes, and that if it spotted me I''d have nowhere to run if it started shootingsers. But mostly...


    "Sinir, I''m trapped. Please... oh God, the... the security holograms... they won''t let me out!" ... mostly, it was because I was being forced to listen to thest words of a woman who''d been dead for 200 years.


    "They''re keeping me here. I''m going to die here... amongst the ghosts..." I hid behind a wardrobe, and waited for the hologram to turn around and head the other way. I really didn''t like this.


    "I... I''m still being recorded by the holographic systems. Came so far to be here. Now... now I just want to leave." Everyone knew about the bombs, 200 years ago. In some way, everyone who was alive was affected by the nukes that had scorched the earth and turned it into the hell that it is. But... usually, I didn''t like to think about it. I just wanted to get by, day to day. I didn''t like to think about history - at least, not <em>that</em> part of history.


    "Please... let me leave?" Being confronted with thest words of someone who was there... who was forced to watch the warheads scream overhead and the bombs drop and... I really didn''t enjoy being forced to think about the people who lived through it - or died through it, as the case may be.


    "We all pay for what we''ve done. I''m... I''m so sorry, Sinir. Sorry, I... I should have trusted you." I tried to get away from the hologram, but it was no use - that wasn''t the only one here. And this one looked like Vera, too. And, lucky me, it was still reying the samest words, over and over and over and...


    "Sinir, where did you go? Why did you leave me? Sinir? Sinir!" I ducked behind a couch, staying as close to the floor as I could. I''d been through a lot of shit today, and... I dunno, maybe this was the bottle that broke the brahmins back? Being hunted by <em>actual</em> ghosts of the Old World wasn''t doing anything for my state of mind.


    "The doors, they... they sealed. I... I can hear the other guests, screaming to be let out. To... to let go..." I slipped through another hole in the wall, and found myself in another hallway - right next to an open door. I could still hear the holograms in the background, but it wasn''t as pronounced over here. This didn''t look like -


    Beep.


    Shit! Shit shit shit shit! I pressed my back against the wall - the beeping stopped. I walked toward the open door... and it started beeping. I pulled out the pistol, ready to shoot the speaker spewing out the lethal ambient noise... but I hesitated, backing up against the wall again. Son of a bitch, that''s not Cloud I''m smelling - that''s <em>gas</em>! The same kind of mmable gas from the kitchens.


    A single spark, or I fire off my gun, and the whole ce is liable to go up. Nevermind my cor going off... I ducked into the room as fast as I could, to try and find the radio. My cor started beeping. If it was one of those wall mounted speakers, I''d have to leave it untilter - until I could figure out how to turn off the gas. The beeping around my neck got faster.


    Wait! There - on the floor! It was a radio, like the kind I''d seen in the Police Station, and in Vera''s dressing room. It was lying on its side, but it was still active. The beeping around my neck got even faster... I was perilously close to blowing up, I was sure of it.


    I dove for the radio as fast as I could, and turned the dial as far as I could into the "OFF" position. The radio clicked and died... and my cor stopped beeping. I let out a sigh of relief, and practically copsed on the floor, right on top of the radio.


    "Alright, c''mon. Get up, you asshole," I said, trying to urge myself into movement. "You need to find the source of the gas leak. Otherwise you''ll die of asphyxiation before long - or something''ll set it off, blow everything to bits."


    It didn''t take me too long. This room looked... a little like the kitchen downstairs. Same kind of gas main - and it was simple enough to turn off. What was harder was first finding a terminal, and then unlocking it to activate the venttion system. But... in the end, I found that as well. As soon as the fans kicked in, a door on the far wall opened. I checked it out... and realized that I was in the same hallway that led back to the elevator.


    "Well, that''ll make a good shortcut around the holograms... I guess..." I went back the way I came, trying to figure out if I''d gotten turned around somewhere... and that''s when I came to another long hallway. On my right, I saw two big double doors. They were the only double doors I''d seen on this floor, which meant this was probably the ''high ss suite'' Christine was stuck in.


    I tried the doors - nothing. They wouldn''t budge. I stepped back, nted my feet, and gave the door a good solid kick - still nothing. It was like the doors had been welded together or something. I looked around, trying to see if I could find anything to pry the doors open, or blow the locks - normally, in this kind of situation, I''d just shoot the locks, but I was trying to conserve ammunition - when I found another door. This door was simple, unassuming, andbeled: "security"


    I didn''t have to worry if this one was locked - this lock already <em>had</em> been shot off. I pulled open the door, and found myself in what could be described as a closet, if you were being very, <em>very</em> generous. The only thing in here was a single terminal mounted on a wall. Unlike the door, the terminal was locked, and it took me a few minutes to try and break the security... but once inside, I found amand that shut down security for the entire floor.


    There was a massive ''THUD!'' that reverberated through the entire floor. I heard several clicks behind me. And then... Silence.


    I turned around, and tried the double doors again... the handle turned, and the door opened. Finally, something going right. I looked around the room. There was a door on the left side of the room, several sofas, a few easy chairs, and a bar on the right. I thought the far wall directly opposite to me was just that - a wall - but then I looked closer, and realized it was set of floor to ceiling windows stretching across the entire wall. They were so caked in Cloud and grime that they werepletely opaque.


    Part of me was tempted to go to the bar and start raiding it for liquor, but I decided against that. I''d do thatter. If there was ater. Instead, since I didn''t see Christine anywhere in <em>this</em> room, I decided to try the door on my left.


    When I got close to the door, I heard Vera''s voice again... wait, no, this wasn''t a recording.


    "Hello. Hell-oooo. The, uh... the quick -engh!- scribe jumped over thezy pdin..." It sounded like she was talking to herself. Maybe she was getting used to her new voice? I rapped on the door several times.


    "Hey, uh... Christine? You in there?" I said, to make sure she knew it was me and not Elijah. I didn''t want her to try and shoot me as soon as she opened the door. Instead, all she did when she opened the door - still wearing that armor from the Clinic - was look at me serious as ever... with the faint hint of a smile. A smile covered mostly by exhaustion.


    "You made it. Good," She drew away from me, and coughed several times into the crook of her arm. "Ugh.. hurts to talk. I''ll... try and keep this quick. In case my voice goes out."


    "Alright..." I nodded. "Getting used to sounding like Vera Keyes then?" She looked up, confused.


    "Do I?" She shook her head. "Sounds off to my ears... hard to tell. Not to mention it..." Christine grimaced. "... hurts like hell to swallow. Might exin why I got moved off to this suite, though..."


    "What do you mean?" I asked. She backed up, pointed a thumb behind her, and let me look in the room. I''ll be honest, all the shit that''s happened today, and I still wasn''t really prepared for what I saw. I just sort of stopped. On the wall, scrawled in what looked like ancient dried blood wererge letters: "LET GO." And off in the corner, sitting in a chair, and still wearing the dress, was an ancient skeleton, still held together by... fuck if I know.


    "It''s her suite. That''s her over there. Got trapped by security, same as I did. Just... took a different way out, I guess."


    "... I need a drink," I said, turning around and heading for the bar. "Do you want something?"


    "Please," Christine said with another grunt - or was it a cough? Either way, I was looking through the contents of the bar - and it was the most glorious sight I have everid eyes on. It was absolutely magnificent.


    "Alright, we''ve got wine, beer, whiskey, brandy, scotch, gin, absinthe, vodka... wait, hang on, what the hell is soju? You know what, I don''t care what it is, I''m having some."


    "Can you grab the vodka for me?" She said, sitting down on the couch. I grabbed a few bottles and a few shot sses, and brought them all to the table next to the couch and the chairs. I sat down on the chair directly adjacent to the couch, and cracked open the bottle of soju - whatever the hell it was.


    "So, now you''ve got your voice back... what did you want to say?" I asked, knocking it ba- HOLY HELL. Damn, that''s strong. I like that. Fuck, that''s almost like rubbing alcohol. I tried to figure out how much alcohol was actually in it, but I couldn''t read thebel - was that Chinese? Thebel was written in some kind of Asian script, but I couldn''t make heads or tails of it.


    "I''ve been hunting the one who hijacked your Pip Boy, Elijah, for... some time." She poured herself a shot of vodka. "He cannot leave the Sierra Madre alive."


    "Trust me, we''re in agreement there." I said with a grim chuckle. Christine didn''tugh.


    "What he''s done... what he''s done here is nothingpared to what he''s done in the past. The only way to bring him out is if you get down into the vault. He won''t allow you to go down there alone. That''s when we kill him."


    "I suppose... it''s as good a n as any. How long have you been hunting him?" I asked. She slowly started shaking her head.


    "Too long. Thought I might have had a chance to settle it before... nngh!... all this shit happened, but... then the chance slipped away again." She looked away from me with a grim expression, pouring herself another shot of vodka.


    "Sounds personal." I set the bottle of soju down. That shit was strong, and as much as I wanted to drink more... I had a nasty feeling that I was going to need a clear head for what wasing next. Didn''t want to fight Elijah with my head swimming in liquor.


    "He..." Christine stayed silent for quite a while. She gulped down another shot of Vodka. "He cut me off from... someone. Someone I cared about... a long time ago. He used his status to break us apart. So I... I had to find a new purpose."


    It was at that moment that everything clicked. The name. The background. I felt like a moron for not figuring it out sooner...


    <em>"Well, because... I was in love, once. She and I were both young, but... I mean, I''d like to think it was love... Our Chapter Elder, Father Elijah... he wasn''t exactly supportive on my end... I don''t know where she is now," Veronica said, looking away and up towards the sky. "...but I''m sure she''s moved on. I still think about her, though... once in a while..."</em>


    <em>"What was her name?" I remember asking her.</em>


    <em>"Christine."</em>


    Son of a bitch.


    "Sheason?" Christine was looking at me, waving a hand in front of my face; I shook my head.


    "Sorry, I was just... uh... what were you saying?" I had a million things rattling around my head now. Should I... should I tell her that I''ve been traveling with Veronica? Part of me wanted to, but...


    "I said, after HELIOS One, Elijah became unstable. He left a trail of crimes across the wastnd. Once word reached The Circle, I was ordered to kill him."


    "The Circle?" I asked. I was still wrestling with myself as to if I should tell her about Veronica or not. Why was this so hard? Just tell her that you know Veronica. Hell, just mention her name! That would probably be enough!


    "The Circle of Steel. Different purpose, same banner. Think of it like Internal Affairs for the Brotherhood."


    "So... he... uh, knew you before then?" I asked. She nodded.


    Why was I finding it so hard to tell her? Just tell her that Veronica is still out there - and that she still misses Christine and thinks about her. This is kind of important! JUST SAY SOMETHING!


    "He saw me... several times. Before the scars. Most recently at a ce... very, <em>very</em> far from here. It''s... where he found some of the technology he uses now." She motioned with her head at the rifle on my shoulder. "Like the holorifle you''re using. He figured out how to build that there."


    "So, where is ''there''?" I rubbed my eyes. No... no, I can''t tell her. Not yet, at least. I was starting toe up with a n for dealing with Elijah, and it required Christine to be focused. If I told her about Veronica... it would either make her fight twice as hard to kill him, or it would distract her at a crucial moment. I needed to figure out how to tell her without putting my own life in jeopardy - I needed to be sure it would motivate her, not distract her.


    "The Big Empty. The name''s deceptive - if you know where to look. It''s... a dangerous ce. A crater, filled with technology of the Old World. That''s where I got the scars..." She ran a hand along her head. "Most of them... Almost got trapped there. But... there was someone else who came along. Saved me. Knew about Elijah."


    "What, like another member of the Brotherhood?" I asked. Christine shook her head.


    "No. A courier."


    "Seriously?" I asked, trying to hold back a chuckle.


    "Yeah. He called himself a courier, at least. Wore an Old World g on his back. He was the one who pulled me out of there. Told me where Elijah had gone. He helped me heal up, listened to my story. He... sympathized."


    "Sympathized?" I picked up the bottle of soju, and held it up towards her. "What, like this?" She smiled, and gave a soft chuckle, toasting my bottle with her shot ss.


    "Not quite. But thank you for this, anyway. No, he said he understood what it meant to track someone who had such an... impact on his past life. He said that... people were like couriers, sometimes never understanding the messages they brought. That''s who he was hunting for... some courier."


    "Hell, maybe he was looking for me," I said jokingly. She looked at me curiously again. "Back in the world, I''m a courier. I mean, literally. I made my living shuffling packages from ce to ce. Hell, even after I got shot in the face, people in the Mojave started calling me The Courier."


    "What?" Christine asked, sounding genuinely curious. I pointed at the bullet scars on my face.


    "I got shot in the face. Twice. Dumped in a shallow grave and left for dead. About a weekter I woke up, went after the man who tried to kill me." She just sat there, staring at me with her mouth open for a few minutes.


    "Okay, you win," She said, knocking back another shot of vodka. "Shit, no wonder this ce hasn''t killed you..."


    "Didn''t think we were in apetition." She chuckled at that. "Look, I''m just d you''re alright - and not trying to kill me. I''ve had enough of that today. But there is one thing I gotta do first. Can I see your cor for a second?" Christine raised an eyebrow.


    "... why?"


    "I''ve been resetting the pin-switch on all the cors I can find," Or blowing them up, in Dean''s case. But hey, he <em>was</em> the one to put her in the Auto-Doc, so I guess he deserved it. "My guess is that resetting the cors might take them off thework, and make it even harder for Elijah to blow them up. I know he can''t blow them up between floors - otherwise we would have all been dead by now."


    "Yeah..." Christine started nodding slowly. "That might work. With the cors reset, he might have trouble setting it off even if he was ten feet away." She got up and motioned me toward her, extending her neck so I could get a clear view of the pin switch. I took out a stimpack to hit the switch.


    "Hell, that''ll be useful when I find that asshole so I can shove my boot up his ass. I''m just d you''re safe. You hold up here, I''ll take care of Elijah," I said, putting the stimpack away.


    "Good luck," she said, clutching my shoulder and looking me right in the eyes. "He''s... he''s not an easy opponent. If I can, I''ll try and help. Might be able to figure out something using the Sierra Madre''sputer systems..."


    Ding.


    The elevator opened into the lobby, and I was suddenly face to face with two Ghost People.


    "Son of a bitch."


    The two of themunched themselves at me. The closest one had a spear; I used my own to parry it out of the way. While it stumbled, I grabbed it by the hood, and pulled it down in front of me. There was a rending crunch - the bear trapper''s bear trap had closed around the Ghost Person I was holding. I pulled the knife off my belt, and thrust it into the top of the bear trappers head as I yanked the spear out of the trapped Ghost Person''s hands. I sliced through the air, cutting off the head of the bear trapper, and shoved the spare spear up through the other one''s torso.


    "You know," I said, holding onto the spear and forcing it back until it was pushed up against the railing. "I have just about had enough of you assholes." I pulled the spear out of its gut; it doubled over, grasping at nothing. I grabbed it by the back of the head, and started to just smash the gas mask against the railing over and over again; each time its face impacted, I heard another crack, and more shards of ss and more puffs of sickly green smoke started pouring out.


    I looked over the railing: right below me was the gas bomb from the Ghost Person that had been disintegrated earlier... and that gave me an idea. I grabbed it by its upper back and the middle of its leg, summoned up as much strength as I could muster, and threw it headfirst over the railing. It hit the ground with a sickening crunch, skidding across the ground and started iling madly.


    "You want my opinion?" I said, pulling out the revolver and taking careful aim. "You fucks need to lighten up." I fired, and I was forced to shield my eyes and face from the explosion. A wave of heat washed over me, and when I looked down, everything in that part of the floor was covered in fire.


    I was feeling rather pleased with myself... and then Elijah decided to talk again.


    "Ahh, there you are... lost your signal there for a minute. Hmm... You have thest fragment. That''s all I need. Good, good... Now - go to the main lobby terminal. Thread the music sequence together." The speakers crackled and went silent again.


    I put the revolver away, and walked down the stairs, past the Vera hologram. The fire was starting to die down; I could almost see the Ghost Person that had been caught in the st. What was left of it, anyway... It looked like the force of the explosion had blown it in half.


    "Right, let''s see what''s what..." I switched on the terminal at the front desk, and started scrolling through functions... there. I hit the button for "ess Music Archives" and was shown a list of three songs, all (presumably) by Vera Keyes: "Begin Again," "Let the Bright Tomorrow In" and "Go to the Faraway." A few more keystrokester, and I had the pass phrase to get into the Vault:


    "Begin again, but know when to let go."

 Chapter 54: Dead Money

    Chapter 54: Dead Money


    "You''re back," Christine sounded surprised, sitting on the back of the sofa. "Didn''t expect you here so... soon. You sure you still want me here, cors and all? Not -nngh!- not much for waiting around with a bomb around my neck."


    "Yeah, well... you''re not gonna have to wait for much longer. I found the phrase for the elevator''s audio lock."


    "You did?" Christine hopped off the sofa. "Damn. Looks like even the Old World can''t keep you out when you''ve got a mind to get in."


    "Speaking of that," I said, looking around. "... where <em>is</em> the elevator? I''m guessing it''s up here somewhere, but..." I was thinking about what Elijah had said when I turned on the power in the casino: "<em>Once I can ess the music archives, we''ll need to go to the top and ride our fortunes down."</em>


    "Lucky for you, I had plenty of time to look around while I was stuck here," Christine said, walking past me and toward the bar. "There''s a hidden door on the wall here... somewhere."


    "Hidden door?" I asked, walking behind her and trying to get a look at what she was doing. She was reaching under the bar, and looked like she was feeling around for something. I heard a soft click, and part of the wall moved inward soundlessly. It revealed a short hallway behind the bar, and what looked like elevator doors at the end. There was a small t terminal on the wall next to the elevator in lieu of buttons.


    "Well... there it is," Christine cleared her throat as she got up from the bar and looked inside the short hall. "So... I just rasp out some words, and the vault opens?"


    "Seems that way," I said with a shrug. "Only one way to find out, I guess."


    "That woman, the starlet... she didn''t build this ce," Christine nced back at me, confusion evident on her face. "Why would the builder make her the key to the vault?"


    "It''s..." I thought back to Dean, and everything he''d told me about Sinir, Vera, why the casino was built, his ns to try and rob the ce... "It''splicated. Trust me on this."


    "Yeah... I suppose it would have to be. The sealed doors, the security... I''m not sure, but this ce... it doesn''t feel like a casino." Christine said.


    "So, what does it feel like?" I asked, genuinely curious.


    "It feels like a fortress. Like a... a motte-and-bailey that a conqueror in the middle ages would build for his seat of power, or something." She must have seen the confusion on my face, because she quickly added: "It''s a type of castle. Don''t worry about it."


    "An abandoned fortress..." I said, looking around. "Maybe that''s why the old man wants us to crack it open - so he can make it his own and y at being King."


    "I think that''s exactly what he''s nning," Christine deadpanned. "Still, it doesn''t exin why she''s the key to the lock."


    "The guy who built this ce, Sinir - he built it for Vera." I said, recounting what I could of my little... <em>chat</em> with Dean. "He wanted her to have ess to everything. I guess the Sierra Madre was the object of his obsession... or affection, maybe. I dunno." Christine thought on that for a minute, looking pensive. Eventually, she shrugged.


    "Love makes people do strange things. Won''t argue that. It can... drive you crazy sometimes if you can''t... connect." I was half tempted to blurt out the fact that I knew Veronica right then and there, but she kept talking before I could. "I suppose... if they loved each other, and they were together... I suppose that''s all that mattered." She shook her head, and ran a hand over the scars on her bald head. "But she''s in that side room, dead, because the Madre wouldn''t let her leave. And who knows where he is?"


    Right. Enough dawdling. We needed to get moving, and try and turn Elijah''s n on its head... and to do that, I needed to get into the vault.


    "You ready to do this?" I asked, walking toward the elevator. She nodded, and fell in step behind me. "The sequence is: ''Begin again, but know when to let go''."


    "All right," Christine cleared her throat again. "If you go down there, are you... are you prepared..." She grabbed me by the shoulder, and looked at me with a serious - and a worried - expression evident on her face. "I mean, what if you don''te back?" I tried my best to force a smile, rying confidence that I really did not feel.


    "Well, I''ve got you toe down after me. It''ll respond to your voice." Christine still looked worried, but... there was something else there. Was that...?


    "I... just wanted to make sure you''re ready. When you go down there, that may be it for us... I mean, we won''t be needed anymore."


    "He hasn''t needed us for a while. He already said he would''ve blown the cors if he could, but he can''t because of something to do with the floors... the construction of this ce blocks signals..."


    "Elijah will follow you down there. Who''s to say he can''t blow the cors from his Pip Boy?"


    What.


    "Wait, he has a Pip Boy?" I asked, a small piece of the puzzle sliding neatly into ce. "Is that why-"


    "Forget the Pip Boy!" Christine cut me off. She didn''t look worried now... it was something else. "I <em>know</em> he''s going to follow you down there... and he isn''t going to let you leave. He''s not one for sharing. Never was." That''s when I figured out what the something else was that I''d seen in her face. I knew that expression. I''d seen it on my own face... and on Cass'' face.


    "That''s why you''re waiting. <em>You</em> want to be the one to kill him." I said simply.


    "I..." She looked worried again. "I <strong>can''t</strong> let him leave. Look, you''ve done so much, and he''s not going to show himself until you go down there. I''m... I''m not going to get another chance!"


    "You were the one who came up with this n, to draw him out like this." I said. "I want to kill this fuck, same as you, but I don''t want to die in the process - and if he kills <em>you</em>, then I''m going to be stuck down there. I won''t be able to get out."


    "I know," she said softly, nodding her head. "And he <em>will</em> kill me. I can''t get the cor off." She sounded... I don''t know, almost resigned to the idea of already being dead. "And even if I could... I need to be sure. I need to see his eyes - <em>his face</em> - when he dies. I''ve... I''ve lost him so many times. He <em>needs</em> to die... what happened here, with us? He''s... he''s done so much worse."


    That''s it. Time to tell her. She needs something to live for.


    "Like what happened with Veronica?"


    Christine''s eyes went wide as pie tes, and her mouth fell open.


    "<em>What</em>." She breathed, just barely loud enough for me to hear. "How do you-"


    "Veronica is still out there, Christine," I said, doing my damndest to maintain eye contact. "She still thinks about you. She still misses you. She still loves you. I know this, because she''s <em>told me</em>. Back in the Mojave, she''s one of the people who''s been travelling with me."


    "I... I..." Her face was practically frozen; she wasn''t even blinking... and then I saw a single tear run down her cheek.


    "I''m sorry for springing this on you, but... You need to know. And you have to <em>live</em>. Not for me - for <em>her</em>. As bad as he is, Elijah''s not worth it - he''s not worth your life. If you die here? You''ll never see Veronica again."


    CRACK.


    I saw stars. Christine slugged me in the face so hard, my head was knocked to the side and the rest of my body wanted to follow. Damn. Part of me didn''t want to look back. Had I fucked this up?


    "You..." Christine''s voice was wavering. "You have to promise me. P-promise me you''ll deal with him.. if I see him, I..."


    I turned back to her; her expression was stony, and her eyes were reddened and bloodshot. Her cheek was still slightly wet from the single tear that had escaped, but she wasn''t crying. The look on her face was fierce, if nothing else. Hell... maybe I could salvage this yet.


    "When hees down to the vault, I can corner him down there. He <strong>won''t</strong> escape. I swear." I said, rubbing my cheek and flexing my jaw. Why do all the women I know like to hit so damn hard?


    "A-all right," Christine started nodding, swallowing audibly. "All right. I''ll... but I''ll need to get off this floor. He''ll pick up my cor, and..."


    "Don''t tell me where you''re going," I said. "I''ll find you after this. For now... just say the words, and let''s settle this so we can go home."


    "I... never mind," Christine shook her head. "Let me get the vault open..." She walked over to the panel in the wall next to the elevator doors, and spoke clear into the mic: "Begin again... but know when to let go."


    The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal an elevator with spotless mirrors, gilded filigree designs along the edges of all the panels, and a rich, red carpet on the floor.


    "I''ll do what I can to try and help you out. If I can find a terminal on another floor, I should be able to contact your Pip Boy - just make sure your radio is tuned to 372.12 Hertz ULF."


    "Got it," I said, hiking the holorifle up my shoulder, and walking into the elevator. "Don''t worry. Elijah''s a dead man. He just doesn''t know it yet."


    "Good luck..." Christine said, stepping back from the elevator. With that, the doors shut.


    Just how deep does this ce <em>go</em>?


    The elevator had been moving at a fair pace for... some time now. I''m not sure. What I did know is that I''d been descending rapidly enough for my ears to have popped twice, and it was still going.


    Eventually, the pace slowed, and it finally came to a halt. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I found myself in some kind of maintenance hallway - it kind of reminded me of the sort of thing I''d seen in Vault-Tec facilities in the past. Less curved perhaps, but still strangely reminiscent of Vault-Tec architecture.


    The door at the end of the hall slid open, and I found myself in some kind of... was this an observation room? Or was it just an enclosed catwalk with a view? I looked out of the window, and was met with an absolutely cavernous room. There were catwalks cris-crossing each other, I saw other enclosed catwalks like the one I was currently on, and masses of pipes and tubes filtering down from a ceiling that I couldn''t see - it was either too dark or too high.


    There was a crack like a thunderbolt, and I saw a streak of blue lightning arc through the air across my field of view - and hit a massive tower that looked straight out of science fiction. There were four of the damn things, all situated around a ss half dome - and inside, I could see arge steel door. I''d put money on that being the way into the vault...


    Of course, actually getting <em>down</em> there proved to be more difficult than I''d initially anticipated. There were a few doorways on the catwalk, but as soon as I tried to pass through one-


    BAM!


    "Ow! What the fuck?" I stepped back, clutching my forehead. What the hell had I run into? I took a step back, and realized... the doorway wasn''t empty. There was a soft blue glow emanating from the edges, and there was a thin blue film of glowing energy barring my way. Was this another hologram? Or was it something else?


    Cautiously, I reached out and tried to press a hand against it... there was a slight tingle when I got close, and then my hands stoppedpletely when it pressed against something solid. The film of energy glowed slightly around my hand, and started to - was it humming? It was a really strange sensation. Whatever this was, it had the texture and consistency of ss but.. it <em>moved</em> like a liquid, and was vibrating under my hand.


    "Okay. So. It''s a force field." I said aloud, removing my hand. "What with all the other science-fiction bullshit going on around here, I suppose it was only a matter of time before running into one of <em>these</em>..." I looked around, trying to find some other way of getting down to the vault - or maybe turning these damn force fields off. Here we go - a doorbeled with a sign that said ''maintenance ess.'' And this had an actual <em>door</em>, not just energy!


    "Force fields..." I muttered to myself as I headed down the hallway, slowly shaking my head. "When the fuck did my life get so weird?"


    Frederick Sinir must have hired an architect who was either an idiot, or actively malevolent. That was the only exnation.


    This ce was a maze - and it was just as dangerous as the vi. Sure, I didn''t have to deal with traps set by previous visitors, and there weren''t any Ghost People, but not only were there about a million speakers, but I kept running into patrols by holographic security.


    The worst thing though... every time I looked down, I saw nothing but <em>Cloud</em>. It was the thickest I''d ever seen it, and it was just boiling there, right below my feet. The speakers and the holograms were easy enough to circumvent or disable (rtively speaking), but the Cloud? One wrong step, and I''d be falling for weeks... that is, if I didn''t just <em>melt</em> if I fell in, it was so thick.


    Was this where the Cloud wasing from?


    I didn''t really have time to dwell on it. After sneaking my way through who knows how many holograms, running from twice as many speakers, and deactivating them all - including two of those force field doors - I finally came to... the vault again. And, like before, I was barred by another force field door.


    "Alright. I''m back where I started, just... looking at it from the other side." I peered through the force field, and could see the enclosed catwalk that led to the elevator from before. "Good, I guess... I mean, this is where I want to be... now, how do I turn this thing off?" I started back-tracking, looking around for a terminal. The other two I''d run across I had been able to disable after finding the terminals that controlled them, and bypassing the electronic security. With any luck - there! A few corners back, was another wall mounted terminal.


    "Hang on, what''s this?" I asked aloud after I cracked the security, and looking through the functions. "Vault Security System Protocols: Warning." I selected it, and started to read...


    <em>If Vault security is disabled, and the Vault terminal is breached, the elevator will automatically return to the Suites and lock permanently in ce. After that, there is no way to operate the elevator, and the Vault area is sealed off. As requested by Mr. Sinir, there is no manual or terminal override in the Vault once the elevator is locked. Once initiated, it cannot be undone.</em>


    "Well... I guess this is it. Time to nut up or shut up."


    A few keystrokester, and I heard an electric hum sending a shock through everything metal; I looked down the hallway, and the force field barring the door hadpletely disappeared. As soon as it disappeared, I heard noises from the chamber: mechanical thrumming, and the heavy rumble of machinery. When I walked in, I couldn''t tell where any of the sounds wereing from. There must have been some chaotic acoustics, because every noise was bouncing off every single surface.


    Another crackle of lightning streaked overhead when I walked into the main vault chamber. I looked around as I walked into the center of the room, trying to find where the lightning hade from... and realized that I was in a <em>very</em> vulnerable position: all around me, I sawser turrets, mounted everywhere. Forget the speakers or the holograms, if these things activated, I''d be dead in two seconds!


    I started slowly backing up, unable to look away from theser turrets, when I backed into a wall. I turned around, and was face to face with the vault door - and a terminal mounted in the wall next to it. I grabbed therge hatch wheel on the door, and tried it. Nothing. Huh. Must be the terminal, then. Surprisingly, the terminal wasn''t locked. There was only a simple message:


    <em>Only the trustworthy may enter my vault. -F.S.</em>


    I selected the function to open the vault door. There was a hiss of hydraulics, and the massive metal door slowly started to swing outward. The air inside started to rush out and hit me in the face; I was reminded instantly of the first time I entered the Lucky 38, that sensation of frigid air that had been recycled for 200 years. Of course, I was a bit distracted - all around the room, I heard clicking and the whirring of servo-motors, and saw theser turrets all move as one, and start to track my movements.


    Time to go.


    I rushed into the vault as quickly as I could; funny how the imminent prospect of being disintegrated lends speed to your legs. There must have been some kind of motion sensors just inside, however, because the vault door closed behind me.


    "This really isn''t looking good... I''m feeling more and more trapped, and I still have no idea if Elijah''s even followed me down here or not." The inside of the vault was... a lot smaller than I was expecting. Directly in front of me was... yet another terminal, sitting on a desk, directly below an emblem emzoned with the Sierra Madre logo. There was a vending machine off to one side, and what looked like a chemistry set on the opposite wall. Supplies were littered everywhere - food, water, medicine... From the outside, it looked like it was a bank vault; this felt more like the fallout shelter "vaults" built by Vault-Tec before the war.


    That is... until I looked to my right.


    "Is... is that..." I was struck dumb at the sight in front of my eyes. I''m not sure I even blinked. I''m sure my mouth was hanging open. It was... it was just <em>sitting</em> there. Was it just a hallucination? I reached out, just to see if it was real...


    <em>Gold</em>. It was a massive pile of gold bars, sitting there on the table. I picked one up - yep, it felt real. Unless I''d gonepletely insane and was hallucinating to such an extent that my brain was replicating the sensations and feeling of something I''d never seen in person before... nope, definitely real. I have to say, I didn''t expect something this heavy to be so soft and malleable - my fingerprints were leaving slight indentations as I moved it around in my hands.


    "Okay, stop fooling around Sheason..." I said, putting the gold bar back... albeit reluctantly. "You need to find some way to... I have to draw Elijah down here. Somehow..." I don''t know why it was so difficult for me to draw myself away from the gold bars - I mean, hell, it''s not like gold has any uses ever since the world got blown to shit...


    Focus. Alright, there''s a terminal on the desk against the far wall, probably a good idea to start with that. Maybe there was something there... It was locked. Something about the Vault Security Protocols still being engaged... Damn. I looked around for something else - there were two terminals on either side of the vault door. The one on the right looked like it was responsible for the targeting parameters of theser turrets outside, but the security was way too tough. I might be able to power my way through it... if I had <em>days</em> to devote to cracking it. So I moved off, and discovered that the terminal on the left was exactly what I was looking for, and with a few short keystrokes I''d disengaged the protocols.


    When I went back to the terminal at the desk, there were two functions already lit up. The first one wasbeled "Vera Keyes," but when I hit it... nothing happened. There was just a message at the bottom of the screen:


    <em>Holodisk extracted. File not found.</em>


    When I hit the second function - "To Vera" - however...


    <em>Vera, if you''re reading this, my fears havee to pass, and this is an apology.</em>


    <em>I hope you realized what myst words meant to you. If so, they have led you here, and this ce will keep you safe. I know what they meant for me, and I fear they have trapped me here. </em>


    <em>I have extracted the previous entry after our conversation tonight. It can''t have been easy for you, and I am sorry for all I''ve put you through in silence. I know while you do not love me, you did not mean any malice in what you did.</em>


    <em>I knew about your ns to rob the casino with Dean before you told me. Hearing it from you didn''t make it any easier. For what it''s worth, I am d you told me yourself, and I understood the tapes Dean had in his possession. </em>


    <em>I do not think either one of you realized what your addiction stemmed from, however, and that is the tragedy in this. I suspect the world would not have believed you, regardless, so I respect your desire to keep it from others.</em>


    <em>When first building this vi, this casino, I meant it for you. As the world seemed to race headlong toward war, it became part of my desire to protect you. The loans, the funding I poured into the casino''s construction... I knew it would not matter when war came for us. It was my means of creating a shelter, a defense if the world was bombarded in radiation and bombs.</em>


    <em>When Dean revealed his ns inadvertently through our introduction, I realized what had happened, and how I had been tricked. For a time, my thoughts were dark. I changed the casino vault from a shelter to a trap, as I knew the first one to enter would be Dean. He would die down here, and it would have been by his own hand.</em>


    <em>I fear, however, that I overstepped myself, and the only safe ce in the casino is the Vault. I have tried to rewire the systems, change the protocols, and I cannot. I will do onest check on the pipes by the edge of the outside tform and see if anything can be done. I fear it is useless.</em>


    <em>If youe down here, do not ess my personal ounts entry.</em>


    <em>It contains only a message for Dean, and it will seal the door and you will have no way out - even the elevator is designed to automatically return when the door is closed, and it will lock in ce.</em>


    <em>There should be enough in the Vault to sustain you until help arrives. I have ensured that there are enough medical supplies down here to keep youfortable.</em>


    <em>The holograms should defend the casino from any attackers, and the hologram beacon in the Vi will broadcast an emergency signal so that others know you are here.</em>


    <em>When the danger has passed, rescue wille.</em>


    <em>I hope you were able to read this, and know that I loved you.</em>


    <em>Frederick Sinir</em>


    I was so busy reading thest words of Frederick Sinir, that I didn''t notice the Sierra Madre emblem on the wall above the terminal split in half and open up. I switched back to the main screen and found that the only thing left was a new functionbeled "Sinir''s Personal ounts." I stepped back from the terminal, remembering the warning - and then did a double take when I realized that the emblem had disappeared.


    "Hang on, that wasn''t a TV before," I said, a bit confused. There was a crackle of static, and the screen winked into life - and I stepped back even further when I saw a massive eye filling the entire screen. I was about to say something when the eye pulled away from the camera... and I saw Elijah. No longer a static image on a screen, but a moving image of the real Elijah. He certainly looked much, much more run down than the hologram above the fountain; the image wasn''t really helped by the cigarette hanging limply out of his mouth.


    "You," He rasped, a cloud of smoke billowing around his head. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, and reached forward, presumably to adjust the camera. "You''re in the vault... <em>finally</em>. After all this time. The Sierra Madre... mine." For half a second, he almost smiled... and then his face returned to a surly grimace. He pointed at the screen angrily with the hand holding the cigarette. "Don''t move. Don''t go into the vault, and don''t touch anything else - there may be more traps down there... another security system..." I guess that means there''s more to the vault... or maybe Elijah just <em>thinks</em> there''s more.


    "Elijah," I said... probably a bit unnecessarily. "Still hiding behind images and screens, I see."


    "Hiding?" Elijah said with a grim chuckle. "Hardly. <strong>Trapped</strong>. You think you were the first one to unlock the casino door? No, I did it... with other hands, other bodies. After that? After that, the casino... it <strong>wouldn''t let me go</strong>. Once I was locked in, no way out... until your Pip Boy signal came to life in the Vi. Then... then, uh, things changed... And here you are." Elijah started chuckling to himself... and for as tired as he appeared, he still looked smug. He''s overconfident... cocky. Now''s my chance.


    "Yeah, here I am. And you know what? I''m sick of talking to some image on a screen. If you''re going toe down, do it."


    "No..." Elijah said simply, his face screwing up into a frown again. "I''m not going to take the chance while I''m so close... not this close, no. Not again... I can wait. Afford to be careful. You... you''re locked down there. This is the only entrance, and I have free reign of the Sierra Madre. I have time... more than you. Besides, there might be more traps. I''ll send more scouts in... yes, others. You''re... resourceful. I''m so close now, I don''t want to leave anything to chance."


    "Oh, you think you have time, Elijah?" I said, folding my arms over my chest, and trying to stare him down through the screen. "Well, chew on this - throwing a wrench into the works is what I do best. It''s what''s you''ve counted on, relying on me to get the job done. Unless youe down here, I''ll destroy the vault, and everything in it." That was bound to get his attention.


    "No. I don''t think so. It''d most likely trigger other security measures... if you hurt the vault at all. The builder of this casino built it tost - the Sierra Madre withstood the war. I''m sure the Vault is protected as well. Besides, you wouldn''t have followed the signal if you didn''t want this ce''s secrets for your own. You''re curious... past the threats."


    Damnit, this wasn''t working. I needed to think of something, and think fast - if he didn''te down here... Time to nut up or shut up indeed.


    "We''ll see how protected the vault is when I detonate this cor," I said, tugging at the bomb around my neck. Elijah raised an eyebrow, and looked at me questioningly - I don''t think he expected that.


    "The cor? Even if you could trigger it..." Elijah shook his head. "No, you''d <em>die</em>. If you wanted to kill yourself, you''d have done it already."


    "Hell, it sounds like I''m dead anyway, the way you''re talking. Denying you the Sierra Madre vault would be worth it. So... I guess you need to ask yourself," I leaned on the desk, staring at the screen with as much menace as I could muster. "Are you willing to risk it?" Elijah snarled, and tossed the cigarette off to the side.


    "Kill yourself, and you decide this now. I can shut down your signal, prevent the cor from going off." Wait a minute...


    "Really? Between floors? I don''t think so. If the cors could be detonated between floors, I''d be as dead as Dean." Elijah was silent for a very long time, trying to stare me down through the screen... and he blinked first.


    "Huh... clever. Whoever designed the Sierra Madre... their obsession with messing with frequencies and signals..." He got up from his seat in front of the camera, and I was met with a darkened screen - but he kept talking. "I''ming down - I''ll meet you face to face at the vault entrance. If you resist, I''ll use the cor, even if it puts the vault at risk." There was a burst of static snow covering the screen before winking a final time and turning off.


    "Christine," I said, tapping the side of my Pip Boy. "You made yourself scarce yet?" Silence... and then.


    "Yeah." Her voice was soft and muffled.


    "I''m going to need your help with something..."


    A metal thud reverberated through the whole chamber... followed by a ''Ding!'' Guess that means Elijah''s here.


    I had a good view of the chamber from my vantage point. I hoped that I''d bepletely hidden from <em>his</em> view... I suppose I''d soon find out. There he was, and he came to a stop in front of the same force field door that had barred my way initially. Of course, unlike me, he didn''t try and go around; he merely lifted his left arm (which did have a Pip Boy), pressed a few buttons, and the force field fizzled into non-existence.


    He walked onto the open catwalk slowly, looking around. He was wearing a blue, tattered robe, with a weird kind of metal trim. I felt like I''d seen that kind of outfit before, but... I couldn''t exactly ce where... He came to a stop in the center of the tform, and stared directly at the closed vault door. There was something strapped to his back - some kind of rifle, but I couldn''t tell exactly what it was.


    "Hmph," Elijah grunted, and brought up the arm with the Pip Boy again. "So, you think you can steal from me?" He yelled. "The Sierra Madre is mine!"


    He stood there in the center of the tform for a very long time, looking around.


    "What the... You... You''ve taken your cor off thework, haven''t you?!" I snuck around, trying to keep from making any noise; I didn''t have a clear shot from where I was. Elijah was still looking around, but had taken the rifle off his back - and I''ll be honest, my bowels clenched at the sight of it. He was holding a fucking Gauss rifle! One shot from that would blow me in half, those things were meant to take out tanks!


    "So," Elijah growled, scanning the area with his Gauss rifle. "You''re even more resourceful than I thought. Doesn''t matter - I don''t need the cor to kill you!"


    Right. Taking him head on was probably not going to work - especially with as little ammo as I had. That''s when I came up with an idea. As far as I knew, he didn''t know where I was... and the acoustics in this ce were so chaotic...


    "You know," I spoke up, my voice reverberating off everything; Elijah looked around, obviously not sure where I was. "I expected more out of Veronica''s mentor - the Elder who lost HELIOS One... Now you''ve lost a courier as well..." Elijah stopped, and looked momentarily stunned.


    "Veronica... she... she survived HELIOS." He shook his head, and went back to scanning the chamber. "Hmph. She would... Resourceful. As for ''losing'' HELIOS One... that was the only oue, aside from retreat! NCR, swarming like ants over Old World relics... Hoover Dam... HELIOS... I won''t let those... CHILDREN! I won''t let them seize anything else! Hardin... McNamara... they can''t stop them... won''t. So I will, with the Old World as... my... WEAPONS!"


    With thest word, Elijah fired his Gauss rifle; the sound was massive, and left a tremendous ringing in my ears. The wall he was aiming at exploded inward in a shower of sparks and seemed to be ripped apart by an invisible fist the size of my head... and kept going. There was a shower of sparks, and one of the turrets exploded. He wasn''t even close to where I was... granted, I''d been moving the whole time.


    "You want to attack NCR?" I asked, not really believing what I was hearing. Elijah looked around, seemingly surprised that the shot hadn''t killed me. "All of it?"


    "Attack?" He yelled, still looking around. He fired again - and was still way off. "No, not attack them! Wipe the te clean! I''ll make the wastnd like it was meant to be... undisturbed by man. I''ll start in the Mojave... send the Cloud, the holograms... I''ll bring ruin in my hands until only <strong>I</strong> stand atop the HELIOS One tower again! I''ll scour Hoover Dam with the Cloud, rain its walls with spears from the sun - with an army of Old World ghosts behind me, holograms all! I''ll wipe out the NCR, and then I''ll turn my sights on those barbarians across the Colorado - and then the vermin and degenerates living amongst the ruins of House''s decrepit empire! All of them will fall before the might of the Sierra Madre at mymand! I''ll kill them all until it''s only me, and me alone! In a quiet world! Make the wastnd like it SHOULD BE!"


    "You''re nothing more than a killer that aspires to mass murder, Elijah!" I had to really work hard to keep a level voice; I was starting to get really worked up now. He was insane. Forget what he''s done to me here - this fucker dreams of <em>genocide</em>! He looked around again - still, nowhere near where I was hiding...


    "You think I''m a murderer? HAH! If I was, I''d have set off your cor back in the Vi. The cor ensurespliance, encourages... cooperation. Think about it: would you have gotten into the casino without those cors? No! Human nature is against us, always!" He took aim, and fired again; another miss, shredding part of the catwalk. "Did you know... did you know that I had to keep adjusting the cors, keep changing the rules to make all this possible?"


    "What are you talking about?" I was getting close now - with any luck (and if I kept him talking), he wouldn''t notice me until I was right on top of him. His gaze darted to where he thought the noise came from, and fired the Gauss rifle again; there was a hideous wrenching sound of metal, followed by an explosion of pressurized gas. Suddenly, there was a burst of Cloud that spilled out like a mass of oing death,pletely devouring that section of catwalk.


    "Every time, even with the cors clutched at their necks... they would betray each other! Kill each other, just to get inside the Sierra Madre! It... it was <em>insanity</em>! They could have had it all, it was... was so close! And... and they kept turning on each other, again and again! Cracking the Sierra Madre, yes, that was difficult... but cracking <em>greed</em> - cracking human nature - that was almost impossible! And that''s why the dead man switches went in!"


    "So you answered madness with madness." I said; I was right on top of him now, but he still had no idea. He spun a full 180 degrees, and fired again. The ringing in my ears from the Gauss rifle discharging kept getting worse, like someone had stuck a metal pot over my head and was hitting it with a hammer. "You''re insane!"


    "No! That would imply mental illness or derangement, and I suffer from neither! When your life is tied to another''s, sacrifice and cooperation - they can be conditioned - learned - and you can focus on the matter at hand! Greed can be beaten! Contained! CONTROLLED! That''s all I''ve done here! I''ve brought about CONTROL!"


    "Control your own greed first!" I yelled, taking aim with my revolver from my vantage point on the struts directly above him. Thework of beams ran from wall to wall, and were well above the line of sight of theser turrets - even if Christine hadn''t disabled them already. The best part? Elijah hadn''t looked up here once.


    Guards don''t look up.


    I slipped into VATS, and squeezed the trigger three times, reasoning that I was so close, I could use myst three bullets...


    ... and Elijah seemed to just <em>dodge</em> out of the way.


    "Hah!" He finally looked up, taking aim with the rifle. "There you are! You think you''re the only one with VATS?"


    Fuck!


    I dove off the beam just as Elijah fired the Gauss rifle. I couldn''t see it, but it sounded like the beam was being ripped apart from the inside. I tumbled through the air, hit the grate, and tried to right myself; there was Elijah, bringing the rifle to bear against me again. I couldn''t tell if he was moving slowly because I was still in VATS, or... because of something else.


    I didn''t hesitate - I just chucked my pistol directly at his face. It''s not like I had any ammo left.


    I''m pretty sure he wasn''t expecting that. I mean, really - who throws a <strong>gun</strong>? But I guess that''s why it worked; the pistol tumbled through the air and smacked him square in the middle of his forehead. The Gauss rifle discharged wildly, firing up into the darkness. As he clutched at his face, I got to my feet and rushed him. He opened his eyes just in time to see me grab the barrel of the rifle, and pull it from his hands - and shove it in his stomach.


    I tossed the rifle aside while he was doubled over; it ttered against the metal grates, somewhere behind me. I made to hit him in the face with a left hook - but before the punch could connect, my fist was stopped halfway by Elijah grabbing it mid-swing. His grip around my fist tightened, which - I admit - did a decent job of distracting me from the iing headbutt.


    I was staggered backward, and saw stars; I shook it off just in time to see another fisting towards my face. I dodged the blow, deflecting it away from me and jamming my elbow into his neck with one motion. I thought that might take him down, but he came back at me with another swing; I wasn''t fast enough to dodge that one, and he cracked me across the jaw.


    "The Sierra Madre is MINE! Do you hear me?!" Elijah shouted, swinging at me again; this one I was quick enough to dodge. "I''ll kill you with my bare hands if I have to!" He swung a third time, but I caught it, same as he''d caught my punch - and I smashed my other fist into the middle of his face. I heard and felt a wet crunch under my fist, and I was sure I''d broken his nose. I grabbed him by the beard, and started sending uppercut after uppercut into his gut.


    "NO! YOU! WON''T!" I punctuated every word with another punch. I let go of his beard, and smashed him in the side of his head with the my Pip Boy. He tried to look up, a thick trail of blood running down his face, and out of his nose. Surely, that would be enough to-


    He tackled me. He grabbed me by the midsection, and the two of us tumbled to the ground, straight toward the edge of the tform. The holorifle jammed itself into my back as I fell onto the metal floor. My eyes started to burn this close to the Cloud, but I didn''t dare close them. I was t on my back, and Elijah was on top of me; his left eye was closed from all the blood running down his face and straight onto me. He mped his hands down on either side of my head, and I could feel him try and shove his thumbs into my eyes...


    His grip loosened when I kneed him in the crotch, though. I''ll tell you that much.


    I shoved him off me, punching him in the gut several times for good measure. He was too busy yelling and clutching at his testicles to really fight back. I wasn''t going to let up now - for all I knew, this was just another feint. I had to end this, and end it now.


    I grabbed Elijah by the back of his head, and mmed his face into a pipe near the edge of the tform. The blood stter left by his face on the metal pipe looked like an ink-blot test. I shrugged my shoulder, and grabbed him by the neck, holding him in ce right next to the edge of the tform.


    CLUNK.


    I stepped back, pulling the holorifle away from Elijah''s gut. There was a roughly square shaped hole in the middle of his abdomen. Elijah just stood there in shock, looking down with his one good eye and trying to feebly clutch at the hole in his chest with trembling hands. He started gurgling, and I saw a burst of blood spill out of his mouth.


    "It''s time to cash out, Elijah," I said, giving him a shove. He fell backwards into the Cloud; it swirled and churned around him, consuming him until I could see nothing left except Cloud.


    "This casino''s just gone bust."

 Chapter 55: Coming Home

    Chapter 55: Coming Home


    It took me a really long time to get back to the suites from the vault - not because the elevator broke down or because it was faulty or even because it had locked in ce. Hell, I didn''t even run into any more trouble along the way; all the speakers were shut down, the force fields were deactivated, and all the holograms had been disabled. Even the Cloud seemed to be getting thinner... but maybe that was just a trick of the light. Or my brain.


    No, it took me a while because when I opened the door to the elevator, I just... I copsed. I was exhausted. Every part of me was sore. I''d been shot at, stabbed, beaten up, dropped in toxic waste, and I''d been running on empty for far too long. Every single one of my senses was shot, and I was crashing after all the adrenaline that had been keeping me going for far too long had finally started to leave my body.


    In short: I waspletely and utterly broken.


    But I was alive. And that was enough.


    The fountain at the center of town was just like I remembered it... before the Ghost People started swarming in from every ckened corner, that is. Truth be told, the very fact that there weren''t any Ghost People around was actually starting to make me a little paranoid. When I left the elevator that connected the vault to Vera''s suite, I was met with utter andplete silence. That wasn''t too unexpected - Christine had gone to another floor, and if I was in her shoes, I wouldn''t go back unless I had to.


    But then, I got back to the lobby... and I was met with silence there, too. There weren''t any Ghost People on the stairs between the broken front doors of the casino or the gate to the Vi, either.


    Where had they all gone? Maybe I''d finally run into a bit of luck? Who knows. It was about damn time if I had, but honestly? I didn''t really care, just so long as they stayed missing. Even so, I wasn''t going to let my guard down now - I''de way too far just to get taken out like a punk because I thought I was safe.


    "Speak of the devil..." I muttered to myself; just as I''d been thinking about all this, I''d heard some movement behind me. I grabbed the Gauss rifle off my back (sure, it was a bit awkward carrying both that and the holorifle, but I wasn''t going to just leave it down there), and wheeled around to draw a bead on who or whatever made the noise. But when I saw who was walking toward me, I lowered it.


    "Is he dead?" Christine asked, walking out of the shadows. Her expression was almost as serious as when I''d pulled her out of the Auto-Doc at our first meeting. I held up the Gauss rifle for her to see. On the plus side, I noticed that her cor was nowhere to be seen.


    "Well, this <em>is</em> his gun. He didn''t really need it any more, what with the hole in his chest the size of my fist." I smirked, hoping it might lighten her mood. It didn''t. She just started nodding slowly at the news.


    "Good... That''s... this is good."


    "Thought you might be more excited," I said, shouldering the rifle, and adjusting the straps on the sack slung over my other shoulder. "Now you don''t have to hunt that bastard anymore."


    "I was talking about yourck of cor," She said, pointing at me. I smirked, and rubbed the back of my bare neck, chuckling softly.


    "I undid thetch as soon as I left the elevator, and ditched it first chance I got. It''s probably still up in Vera''s room somewhere, I dunno. Don''t really care. Didn''t blow my head off." I said with a shrug. Christine nodded as I spoke, looking around.


    "Just us?" She asked.


    "Yeah..." I said with a nod. "Yeah, it''s... uh... it''s just us." I sighed and turned to look at the gate - the way out of this hell. "Look, I''d love to stay and chat, but I''ve got a long hike ahead of me, and now that there isn''t anyone stopping me? I''m not gonna stay here any longer than I absolutely fucking <strong>have to</strong>."


    "Hike?" Christine looked perplexed. "Are you going to walk all the way back to where you came from then?"


    "If I have to," I said with a shrug. "Speaking of, you wouldn''t happen to know the way back to the Mojave Desert, would you? I mean, I know from this- " I tapped on the side of my Pip Boy "-that we''re in Mexico somewhere, but other than that..." Christine shook her head and started slowly approaching me.


    "You don''t know how you got here, do you?"


    "Didn''t ask," I said simply. "Didn''t seem important at the time." Christine walked toward the gate that led out, grabbing me by shoulder as she went.


    "Follow me."


    It didn''t take long for the two of us to get out of the Madre; outside the walls of the Vi was nothing but mountains, and we ended up walking down the slope, following a small, twisting path. The further away from that hell the two of us got, the thinner the Cloud became.


    Don''t misunderstand - it didn''t get any easier to breathe or see. I still couldn''t see the sky - the smog was so thick, I felt like I was up north in Junction City. And while it was much thinner than it was in the Vi, there was still a great deal of red smearing the sky... The two of us walked down the mountain in silence for some time.


    But then.


    "How long?" Christine asked. She didn''t turn to face me; she just kept walking.


    "What?" I asked, hiking the bag up my shoulder once again. It just kept slipping down... perhaps it had been a mistake to raid Vera''s room of all the liquor I could carry? ... Nah.


    "How long have you known about me and..." Christine cleared her throat; I couldn''t tell if she was looking for the words, or if her new vocal cords were acting up again. "... about Veronica?"


    "Ah," I coughed, wondering if maybe I should crack open one of the bottles of whiskey. "Vera''s suite. When you said Elijah cut you off from someone, that''s when I put all the pieces together. I feel like I should''ve figured it out earlier, from everything Veronica told me..."


    "Hmph," Christine just kept walking. She didn''t look back. "You could have said something then. Why did you wait?"


    "Because... because I didn''t want you to lose focus. I thought if I told you then and there, you..."


    "You didn''t want to jeopardize the mission," She cut me off. I nodded, even though she probably couldn''t see it. "It could have distracted me at a critical moment. Smart. So why tell me at all?"


    "Because I needed you alive. I thought if I told you the truth about Veronica <em>then</em>, it would give you something to live for. Didn''t want you wasting your life for that asshole." And leaving me stranded down in the vault, I added in my head. I sped up my pace a little, trying to catch up so I wasn''t just talking to the back of her bald, scarred head. "Look, I''m sorry for manipting you like I did, but I -"


    "Don''t be," She said, keeping her gaze forward and away from me. Her expression looked like it had been carved out of stone, and her voice was bing slightly hoarse... "It worked. It was a good call." I let out a humorless chuckle and shrugged.


    "Still. I feel like shit. Sorry." The air between us was quiet for a few minutes. Her expression remainedpletely unchanged. "You alright?"


    "What?" Christine finally looked over to me, with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"


    "Well... I just thought, now that everything''s over, and you don''t have to... I just thought you''d be a bit more... emotional, you know? I mean, you did slug me across the jaw when I told you. That was a nice hit, by the way."


    "Can''t let myself get emotional. Not yet. Just have topartmentalize my emotions and focus. The job''s not done." Every word was spoken with a curt, terse precision. If I wasn''t looking at her, I would''ve sworn she was a robot, the way she was talking.


    "What do you mean, the ''job''s not done?'' How could it not be done yet?" I asked. "We''re out of that hell hole, we''re not wearing bomb cors anymore, and Elijah''s dead. What else is there left to do?" Christine shot me a look - fuck me, if looks could kill... Then, she rolled her eyes and went back to looking forward.


    "What happened to the others?" She asked, quickening her pace. "Are they dead?"


    "Well, I''m not sure about God - er, the Nightkin," I added, when she looked back to question me. "Last I saw, he was in the kitchens, trying to get used to... himself. If that makes sense - I know I don''t think it does. Not sure where he is now. Could have gone anywhere after he regurgitated the detonator and I took it off thework."


    "And Dean?"


    "Oh, yeah, he''s dead. Turns out, he wanted to steal the treasure of the Madre from under Elijah''s nose. It was his idea to rob the ce, 200 years ago. Apparently." I said.


    "No surprises there. Well..." Christine let out a noise; I couldn''t tell if it was a snort or a chuckle. It was just a noise. "It''s a surprise he took that long to stab you in the back."


    "Apparently, he was facing me the whole time," I said with a smirk. "I was in his way, so he tried to kill me. Someone should''ve told him trying to kill me is a bad idea." I reached into the satchel hanging off my shoulder and pulled out a bottle of scotch. I had a feeling that I was going to need it for what wasing next. "Don''t feel bad about it, though. It''s his fault you sound like Vera Keyes - he was the one who shoved you in that Auto-Doc in the first ce." Christine came to a screeching halt, and I almost ended up walking straight past her.


    "WHAT." I couldn''t see her face, but I felt like I could almost <em>hear</em> her eye twitching.


    Oh yeah. Raiding Vera''s room of all the liquor I could carry was the best idea I''ve had in <em>days</em>.


    "So where the hell are we, anyway?" I asked, looking around. The path had leveled out enough to make me think we''d finally gotten off the mountain - I still couldn''t see much of anything because of the smog and traces of red Cloud in the air - and now we were walking among the ruins of a tiny, tiny town.


    "San Felipe de Jess." Christine said, as if that were all the answer I needed. I sighed and took another hit of scotch.


    "That''s nice. So where the fuck are we?"


    "It''s a ghost town," Christine said, looking around as we walked; she seemed to be looking for something on the ground. "Built before the war. Sinir probably used it to ferry people to and from the ce when he was building the Madre. It would exin that broken airstrip on the north end of town... Look, it''s not important. What is important is that this is thest ce I tracked Elijah before I got captured and dragged up there."


    "Alright... so... do you have, like, a car parked around here or something?" I asked, trying to figure out what she was looking for. She stepped through the broken frame of a destroyed house, and knelt down... what was she doing?


    "Not a car. And not mine." She reached down, and I heard a loud clunk. There was a hiss and a pop, and finally a creak of metal against metal as she opened up a circr hatch in the ground. "Down here is the bunker Elijah set up as his headquarters - and inside is the machine that brought you here."


    "Machine?" I asked, trying to make sense of what she was saying. She descended into the hatch, and I followed her; theyout of this bunker was vaguely simr to the bunker that had started all this mess in the Mojave. "Hang on, this ce isn''t going to have self-locking doors or knockout gas, is it?"


    "He only put those in the... <em>trap</em> bunkers he linked to this one," Christine said, walking down the stairs. "When he finally found the Madre, he imed this ce as his staging area - a forward operating post until he could figure out how to get inside. I think your gear should be around here... somewhere. Automated systems brought it down here after you were dragged to the Madre..."


    "How do you know all of this?" I asked, looking around. So far, this ce didn''t seem all that impressive - certainly not the same level of ego I''de to expect from that madman.


    "I read some of the notes he left behind when I was hunting him... he''d set up those man-traps all over the ce. The Mojave Desert, Prescott Valley, Two-Sun, Burham Springs... Once he built the machine, he went all over, setting up traps to lure people here... trap them, and then try to get them to open up the Madre for him." The two of us walked through a narrow, twisting corridor, and deeper into the bunker.


    "You know, you still haven''t exined to me what ''machine'' you''re talking about." I said, getting a little bit impatient. She rolled her eyes and sighed.


    "Because... if I told you, you probably wouldn''t believe me. So I''m going to show you." Christine came to a stop at a door at the end of the hall, and pressed a button on the wall. The door hissed and slid open... and you know, she''s right. I probably wouldn''t have believed her. Hell, I was having a difficult time wrapping my head around the concept just looking at the damn thing.


    The door led into a chamber that was absolutely massive. It was easily three stories tall, maybe more - had we gone that deep? I had no idea. All along the wall I saw generators softly humming and vibrating, and dozens upon dozens of wires and cables and conduits snaking their way across every surface. There was a circr tform in the center of the room, and tworge half dome objects suspended from the ceiling with some kind of apertures pointing at the tform. There were several devices which looked like sr panels arranged in a fan-like shape above the tform and between the two half-domes. In the center was... honestly, I don''t know what it was. I just know that it was slowly spinning. All around the room I saw consoles and monitors and control panels and servers... it put me in mind of the device Doc Henry had used to test the Stealth Boy Mk II in Jacobstown, except the whole setup was muchrger, and much, <em>much</em> more robust.


    What the fuck <em>is</em> this?


    "It''s a teleporter," Christine said, answering the question I''d only asked inside my head. At least... I didn''t <em>think</em> I''d said it aloud. "It''s how he evaded me for so long, after our encounter at the Big Empty. And it''s also how you got here from the Mojave so quickly. This can send you back."


    I spent a few minutes, staring up at the thing, trying to process all this new raw data. Eventually... I couldn''t do anything except shake my head.


    "When the fuck did my life get so weird?"


    Christine told me that setting up the teleporter was going to take a while - so it would probably be best for me to try and find my gear. Further back from the teleport chamber and off one of the branching paths in the bunker, I found a small room with a couple of lockers... and inside, folded and arranged neatly in a footlocker, was all of my gear.


    "Augh... oh, it clings! Ugh!" I had to, quite literally, peel the jumpsuit I was wearing under the Madre security armor off my skin. Cloud residue, dirt, grime, sweat, blood... it was absolutely caked in all of that from top to bottom. It was disgusting. If I could''ve burnt it, I would have. But really, I was just d to get out of it and back into my real clothes.


    As I was taking stock of all my weapons and gear, I sort of... stopped when I got to Roscoe. I turned it around in my hands, feeling the weight, going over every nick and scratch in the metal - especially the rough "ROSCOE" scratched into the pistol grip. I know it was nowhere near as powerful a weapon as the two energy rifles strapped to my back, or even That Gun, but... of all my weapons, Roscoe was the most familiar. I knew everything about this gun - the feel of it, the weight both full and empty, the kick, the slightly bent sights...


    It was such a little thing, finally getting Roscoe back in my possession, but... it wasforting. It made me feel like things were finally returning to normal.


    Of course, when I took a wrong turn and ended up in apletely different part of the bunker...


    "Hang on, this isn''t the way back to the..." I looked around, and my words just trailed off. This looked like some kind ofboratory. The walls were lined with ckboards, covered in notes and equations. Papers and books were littered over every t surface. Off to the side was a terminal - that was still on. Out of curiosity, I checked it - and saw a holotape lodged in one of the disk drives on the side. I flipped through a few functions, until I found the one for the holotape:


    For Veronica


    I paused for a good long while. If this is what I thought it was... Elijah''sst words to Veronica... In the end, I pulled the holotape from the terminal, and put it in one of the satchels I''d collected. I had no idea what was on this tape (and given Elijah''s madness I probably didn''t want to know) but... Veronica would probably need to see this. I don''t think she''d want to, but the least I could do was deliver it to her.


    The other things of note were several chemistry sets, and vials of... hold on, that was Cloud. I looked over at one of the nearby ckboards. Most of the equations were way beyond my understanding, but some of the notes were legible enough for me to read.


    "Sulfur dichloride... asbestos... ethylene... red phosphorus... wait, hang on... was he trying to figure out what was in the Cloud?" I said aloud, scanning the ckboard, my eyes darting between that and the chemistry set and Cloud samples.


    "Of course he was," Christine''s voice from behind me made me jump. "He was really close, too. Maybe he even seeded, while he was locked in the casino. Doesn''t really matter now, I suppose." She was standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. I tried topose myself.


    "Yeah, well... strange as this sounds, this makes something he said down in the vault make a whole hell of a lot more sense." Christine raised an eyebrow and I continued. "He said he was going to try and ''wipe the te clean,'' cover the wastnd in the Cloud. At the time, I couldn''t figure out how he would aplish that, just sounded like the ramblings of a man who''d gone insane... but if he''d figured out what the Cloud was <em>made</em> of, he could manufacture more... weaponize it..." I trailed off, looking back at the forms... and then I shook my head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. "He was really close to seeding, wasn''t he?"


    "Yes." Christine said with a slow nod. "The teleporter is set up. You can leave whenever you''re ready." I nodded and followed her back to the teleport chamber. It was a lot more active than when I''d seen it a few minutes ago. The things that looked like sr panels were spinning, and asionally I''d see a bolt of lightning arc away from them and onto a receptor on one of the half-dome structures in the ceiling. Every monitor was active, and several of them were scrolling lines of code at a mile a minute. The central tform was lit up from below by some kind of blue light, that almost made it look like a hologram projector.


    "So... this thing should send me back to the Mojave then?" I said, looking up at the machine, still trying to wrap my head around the concept. It just seemed too... <em>science fiction</em>, I dunno. "How did he even build this thing?"


    "He stole the ns from the Big Empty," Christine said, moving to one of the consoles. "Along with who knows how much else." I started walking around the machine. It was letting off a strange sort of low-frequency hum, and my teeth and bones started to tingle the closer I got. It was making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. If this thing could send me back, then... maybe...


    "You shoulde with me," I said, turning to Christine. She was busy doing something with the console, and refused to look up.


    "No," she said simply. I sighed. This is going to be tough, isn''t it?


    "Look, I know you said there''s more work to do, but... Elijah''s dead. Don''t you want to... I mean, Veronica''s still out there, back in the Mojave." Christine refused to look at me; she''d moved away from one of the consoles and was now focused on another one mounted on the wall. "And it''s certainly not like she''s forgotten about you. Hell, she wouldn''t have-"


    "LOOK," Christine shouted to cut me off. She turned her head in my direction, but didn''t <em>quite</em> look at me; her voice was wavering slightly, like she was trying to hide it. "I... I appreciate what you''re doing. Really. I... I do. But... you''re just making this more difficult than it needs be. You don''t understand. I can''t leave. Not now. Not ever."


    "So exin it to me. Make me understand, because I seriously don''t get it - Elijah''s dead, and this ce is a graveyard! What else could be keeping you here? What else could keep you away from her?"


    "My oath," Christine finally turned around to face me. Her expression was set in stone, but her eyes were red, despite the scowl. "It''s the same oath that every member of the Brotherhood takes: find the technology of the Old World, and protect it from those who would abuse it."


    "But, that-" Christine held up a hand, and kept going.


    "This ce... it''s full of Old World technology. Technology that would be deadly if it fell into the wrong hands. Elijah''s not unique in that respect. There are others out there - some, just as bad, and others worse - who would leave just as much death and destruction in their wake if they found this ce, and were able to use it for themselves." Christine turned away from me, and focused on the terminal on the wall. "Besides... It... It''s been years. I''m not the same person anymore. ''Begin again, but know when to let go,'' right?"


    "Yeah... <em>know</em> when to let go." I said. "You should let go of <em>this </em>ce. Elijah''s dead. So is Dean. Everyone who knew the secrets of this ce and cared about what was inside is dead. The ce is lethal enough, I think it can take care of itself. But Veronica? She still cares about you. She wouldn''t talk about you if she didn''t. There''s a chance it could still work out between you two... You''re really going to throw that all away?"


    "I have an obligation," Christine said, her voice low. "As a member of the Brotherhood. I''m sworn to protect the technology of the Old World from those who would abuse it." She repeated the mantra once again. She shook her head and turned around to face me. She looked... tired. "As long as the Sierra Madre remains... so will I."


    "So what you''re saying is," I leant on the console, staring her straight in the face. "All I gotta do is find some way to get rid of the Madre. If it doesn''t exist, nobody can abuse the technology. If I do that... would you considering back to the Mojave?" She stared at me for a few seconds, confusion etched across her features, her mouth open slightly.


    "Well... I mean..." I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. "If there was nothing left to protect, I wouldn''t be obligated to stay anymore. But... how would you even... I mean, this ce survived the war! How could you even -" Now it was my turn to cut her off.


    "I''m the <strong>Courier</strong>," I said as forcefully as I could, without a hint of irony or sarcasm. "I''ve survived everything the Madre could throw at me. I''ve survived everything Elijah could throw at me. I''ve been shot in the head, and all it did was piss me off. Pulling off the impossible is what I <strong>do</strong>."


    Christine stared at me... but she wasn''t staring at me. It was like she was looking beyond, and I was just in the way. Her eyes were darting here and there, not really focused on anything. I could tell, she was weighing her options, and then... for the first time since I met her, I saw something new in her eyes. Something I hardly ever saw from <em>anyone</em> in the wastnd. It was just a small glimmer, but it was there:


    Hope.


    But then the hope faded.


    "You... should go." Christine pressed a button on the console and closed her eyes. The machinery behind me started to get louder, and I could tell that things were moving and spinning faster. "Step on the tform, and keep still. You''ll be sent back to the bunker in the Mojave. Like you never left." I got up off the console, but I didn''t move. Christine continued to hang her head. "Just... just go. Please."


    "Fine." I said, backing up slowly. "Fine. I''ll go." I stepped onto the tform; the illuminated blue disk glowed brighter beneath my feet, and I could feel an electric tingle in the air that made all my hairs stand on end even more than before. "But I promise you: I''ll be back. I''lle back, and I''ll find some way to destroy the Madre, along with everything in it. No more Old World ghosts. Nothing for anyone to abuse. No reason for you to stay. I''lle back. I give you my word." The sr panels spinning around the tform got much, much faster, and I saw a multicolored ribbon of light start to peel off them as they went past, surrounding me by a wall of light that looked like an oil slick.


    Christine finally looked up at me, and even with everything going on around me, I could see the sadness in her eyes.


    "Don''t make a promise..." She pulled a lever on the console. "...that you know you can''t keep."


    Everything around me disappeared.


    Being teleported while conscious is not pleasant. Or maybe I just wasn''t used to it. It feels like every single cell in your body is ripped apart, and everything starts to spin wildly out of control. It starts in the pit of your stomach, and works its way up, like a chain trying to yank your rectum up through your mouth. It almost feels like being drunk, but definitely not pleasant. You get room spin and a massive headache, all pushed through a kaleidoscope filter of color and noise. I had the unenviable position of being in two ces simultaneously - and both ces were made out of pain.


    Eventually, my world stopped spinning. There was still a crackle of electricity lingering in the air, though. I dropped to my knees on solid ground, somewhere definitely not where I was a moment ago. There was some kind of noise in the background, but my ears were still ringing from the trip so I couldn''t tell what it was. And I was even more distracted when the wave of nausea got too much for me to handle, and I vomited all over the floor.


    "What the fuck is that noise?" I said, getting up and wiping the sick from my mouth. I looked around... and realized that Christine was right: this was the same room where I''d been knocked out. Son of a bitch, it <em>worked</em>. Now I just had to figure out what that noise was. I looked around and saw the radio sitting on the table in the center of the room - the same radio that had lured me here in the first ce.


    "Wait a moment. Before you go, I..." The noise on the radio didn''t get much further than that, because I pulled out Roscoe and fired. The whole top half of the radio erupted in a shower of sparks, and toppled backward off the table, smashing to pieces on the floor.


    "Right," I said, holstering Roscoe and shifting the rifles and satchels slung over my back. "Time to get the fuck out of here." I walked down the short hallway, toward the door that had locked on me when I first got here... hopefully, it would open this time. I reached up, barely pulled on the handle, and the door slid into the floor with a metal shunt - and I have to say, I wasn''t really ready for the sight on the other side.


    "Raul?" I said, looking down at the ghoul. "What are you doing here?" He was on his knees, wearing a pair of big heavy-duty gloves, a welding helmet on his head, and some kind of cutting torch in his hands. He pulled the mask up, and stood up to look at me with a smile - or, as much of a smile as a ghoul can pull off.


    "Oh, hey boss!" He turned off the torch, and the me died instantly. "We were just looking for you. How''ve you been?"


    "Uh..." It was all a bit much... I wasn''t sure how to answer him. "I''ve been better, if I''m honest. What are you even doing here?" If Raul was going to say anything, I didn''t hear it, because at that moment, I was tackled and damn near lifted off my feet by a mass of brown robes and metal.


    "Sheason! You''re okay!" Veronica let go of me, which was a massive relief; if she''d held onto me any longer, she probably would''ve broken some of my ribs. "When the door shut and I couldn''t figure out how to open it, I was so worried about you! What happened?"


    "That is... That''s gonna take some exining," I said, trying to get past her; I''d spent way too long away from the sky. It wasn''t much further - just a set of stairs and adder. Not much further now... "What are you guys doing here?"


    "Well, when I couldn''t get the door open after the first hour, I went back to the 38 to try and get some help. I mean, I wasn''t going to just leave you here," Veronica said as she followed me up the stairs. Raul was still collecting his things by the door. I couldn''t quite make out what he was saying, but it almost sounded like he was muttering something about bringing his tools out here for nothing.


    "So, is everyone here?" I asked, looking back. Veronica shook her head.


    "Everyone except Arcade. Couldn''t find him, and I didn''t want to waste time looking. Boone''s up top, keeping watch alongside ED-E."


    "Well, well, well..." I heard another female voice from above me as I neared the top of the stairs. "Would ''ya lookit what th'' yao guai dragged in?" Cass was standing at the top of the stairs, a massive jug of, presumably, booze in one hand. She was smirking, trying to hold back the fact that she was pleased to see me. Me, on the other hand... Seeing her here, now, in that moment really made me realize just how much I''d missed herpany while stuck in that poisonous hell. I wasn''t really interested in holding back.


    "Oh man," I said, grabbing her and pulling her in to a hug. "Are you a sight for sore eyes..." At first, I thought she might push me away, but she actually drew me in closer. It was... nice. Part of me wanted to... but... then my brain kicked in. Before it got too suspicious (I hoped), I pulled myself away and gave her a pat on the shoulder.


    "Y''look like shit." She said with a smile, reaching up to fix the hat that had been knocked askew.


    "Well thanks," I said, smiling back at her. "Looking like shit is an improvement after thest few days. Certainly better than I thought I looked." Cass chuckled, and I looked around; it appeared that they''d turned this initialnding into a sort of makeshift campsite. I noticed with a grim fascination that they''d covered up the headless body at the far end of the room.


    "Drink?" She held up the jug, offering it to me. "I''ve been cookin'' up some''ve my moonshine. This batch''s gotta helluva kick to it."


    "Maybe in a minute." I said, walking past her straight to thedder. "There''s something I need to do first." I climbed thedder as quick as I could, the anticipation building and building the higher I got until...


    I opened the hatch, and was nearly blinded by the light. Warm, crisp air filled my nostrils, and a gentle breeze blew over my face. I breathed in lungful after lungful of air. After being surrounded by nothing but poison for so long, it was like I was breathing for the first time. I climbed out of the hatch and eventually my eyes adjusted to the light, and I just looked skyward... the sky was a rich, clean blue, without a single cloud in sight.


    I couldn''t help myself. I just startedughing as I stared at the sky, happy that I could finally breathe again. I could tell that Cass and Veronica - and Raul too, when he eventually followed - were wondering what the fuck I was doing, but I didn''t care. I was finally free of that hell. I was <em>alive</em>. And it felt <em>good.</em>


    Sometimes, you just gotta stop and enjoy the little things.

 Chapter 56: Ramblin Man

    Chapter 56: Ramblin'' Man


    <em>Good morning, listeners. It looks like it''s going to be a beautiful Monday out there in the Mojave wastnd, folks. The sandstorms from the Divide have finally died down, and the temperatures are hovering around the low 70''s, so it looks like we''ll be seeing nothing but blue skies for the next few days. And what better way to kick it off than with "Blue Skies," sung by the great Bing Crosby himself -ing up next, only on Radio New Vegas. This is your host, Mr. New Vegas, saying: I''m just no good without you.</em>


    "Hey, uh... V?" I pulled Veronica aside, close to my car. "You got a minute?" I hoped that we''d be given a moment to talk in private. Cass was sitting by a campfire near the manhole cover with a big jug and a fusion battery making more of her moonshine; Raul was carrying the myriad of tools he''d brought back to his motorcycle. I wasn''t really sure where Boone and ED-E were. ording to Cass, they were on patrol, keeping watch over the perimeter.


    "What''s up?" She asked. I looked around again, to make sure we wouldn''t be disturbed, and let out a heavy sigh; it had been a rough couple of days, and all I really wanted to do was sleep, but... there was still work to be done.


    "I''m sure you''re... probably wondering what I''ve been doing thest few days, right?" Veronica looked sheepish for a minute, and nodded.


    "Well, yeah. I didn''t want to say anything, but... I mean, the two of us first got here round about noon on Saturday, and it''s Monday morning now."


    "That''s... a bit of a gap, I admit," I said, trying to work out the time in my head. It hadn''t felt like I''d been gone that long... had it? "I''m sure you have plenty of questions about where I was, and... I''ll tell you right now, I didn''t spend two days just sitting in that bunker."


    "Judging by the state of you, that much was obvious," She said with a half-hearted chuckle, her eyes falling onto the two rifles slung across my back. "So... where did you go?"


    "Mexico," I said simply. I had so many things I wanted to tell her - about the Sierra Madre, about Elijah, about Christine, and everything that would have been relevant to her... Let''s start small, and see where it goes from there.


    "Mexico?" She deadpanned. She looked at me like I''d lost my mind - which, let''s be honest, didn''t feel all that far fetched. I just nodded, and she continued. "What were you doing in Mexico of all ces? How did you even get <strong>down</strong> there?"


    "That... is going to take some exining. Hell, I''m not sure I believe it myself. The whole thing felt a bit too... it was like something out of science fiction..." I said, trailing off. I shook it off, and continued, ignoring Veronica''s odd look. "The important thing isn''t how I got there, or anything like that, it''s..." I hesitated, debating on what I should say next.


    "What?" Veronica looked up at me, confusion etched over every one of her features. I sighed again.


    "I found Elijah."


    "You did?!" Veronica''s eyes widened to the size of saucers, and I could tell she was having trouble keeping her voice down; off in the distance, I saw Cass look up from her moonshine, wondering what all the fuss was about. "Where? You mean he was... Oh my God, I mean... I thought... I don''t even know what I thought might have happened to him. But..." She finally stopped babbling long enough to realize... "You don''t have a ''this is good news'' expression on your face." I slowly nodded, wondering how I was going to phrase this.


    "Yeah, he... uh..." I cleared my throat, trying to buy myself some time. "He''s dead." Veronica''s expression fell instantly; fuck me, it felt like I''d just kicked a puppy! She closed her eyes, and started slowly nodding.


    "It... it doesn''t matter. He died when the Brotherhood retreated to Hidden Valley. I didn''t expect to see him again. No one did." She opened her eyes and looked up at me with an expression of almost infinite sadness - and with a question. "Did he say anything when you met him? Anything... anything at all?"


    <em>Oh, he said a whole hell of a lot,</em> I thought to myself. <em>Did you know your mentor was a genocidal madman who wanted to wipe out all life in the wastnd so he could rule over a dead world in silence? Oh, and I met your old girlfriend, Christine, but she didn''te with me because she''s sworn an oath to protect the technology of the Old World, so she''s going to live out the rest of her days in a poisonous hell where everything is trying to kill her just so she can protect the technology inside from anyone who might abuse it. Just thought you should know.</em>


    "He..." I shook away the thoughts in my head. There''s no way I could tell her. Not that. Not now... maybe... someday, I might be able to tell her - but only if I could make good on the promise I made to Christine one day. But telling Veronica I''d found Christine, only to turn around and tell her she''d likely never see her one-time lover again? That would just... it''d be too painful for her to bear. I couldn''t do that to her. I just... I just couldn''t.


    Now I knew how Cass felt.


    "I found this." I reached into one of the satchels on my side, and pulled out the holotape. "It wasbeled for you." I handed her the holotape.


    "Where did you get this?" She asked. I was about to answer when she shook her head and continued. "Guess I was right about the bad news, huh? Same look Elder McNamara always gave me when I was up for promotion..."


    "I don''t know what''s inside. I didn''t look," I said. "I didn''t want to pry. All I know is... it''s a message for you, from Elijah. The news is up to you."


    "Thanks," Veronica said, nodding and clutching the holotape tightly against her chest. "I''ll watch it. Thanks."


    "So, what have you guys been doing thest few days?" I asked, sitting near the fire, across from Cass and Raul. Veronica was sitting on my car still staring at the holodisk in her hands, and both Boone and ED-E still weren''t back yet. The three of us passed around the moonshine - and the booze I''d snatched from Vera''s room. Meanwhile, Raul was cooking about half a dozen meat kebabs over the fire.


    "Shouldn''t we be asking you that?" Cass said with a smirk. I shrugged.


    "Not much to tell. Went to Mexico; found a casino of the Old World surrounded by a blood-red Cloud; almost died more times than I can count; took a dip in a vat of toxic waste, and grabbed a whole load of booze." I took a drink of whiskey to illustrate my point.


    "See, boss?" Raul spoke up, setting down his bottle of tequ, and turning over several of the meat kebabs. "I told you the Sierra Madre was bad news. Maybe next time I warn you, you''ll listen."


    "Yeah," I nodded. "You were right Raul. I should''ve left well enough alone. But hey, it wasn''t a total loss." I reached into my satchel and pulled out something that made the two of them stare at me in ck-jawed amazement.


    "Madre de dios, boss... Is that..." Raul was at a loss for words. Cass tipped her hat back and let out a long low whistle.


    "Hot damn, Shea... that''s... s''that what I think it is?"


    "Yep," I said, holding it up so it would catch the light of the morning sun better. "What that is, is a gold bar stamped with the seal of the Sierra Madre. I would''ve grabbed more, but I was... kind of in a hurry. Any more would have slowed me down."


    "Hell, boss," Raul startedughing. "If that''s what you''re gonna bring back every time you ignore my advice, feel free to ignore it as much as you want."


    "Okay," I put the gold bar away, and grabbed the bottle of whiskey again. "So, I''ve told you what I''ve been up to. What have you guys been doing?"


    "Not much to tell, really," Cass said with a shrug. "When V came to fetch us, we all came down here, an'' have been tryin'' t''get into that damn bunker. Only real hup was when Raul left t''go get his tools."


    "Don''t forget the Legion attack yesterday," Raul said, taking a hit of tequ.


    "Oh, right."


    "Legion attack?" I asked, leaning forward. Cass nodded.


    "Oh yeah. We''re really close t''Nelson, remember, an'' I guess one''ve their scouts must''ve seen yer car. A couple''ve Legionaries came in, guns zin''. Took all''ve us workin'' t''gether to take''m all down." I looked over to my car while she was talking, counting...


    "Well, that exins the new bullet holes, at least," Part of me wanted to get angry, but I couldn''t really me them for Legion. At least they were able to use it as cover.


    "Don''t worry, don''t think anybody hit anythin'' too vital," Cass said with a smirk.


    "How many of them were there?" I asked.


    "Bout four, I think," Cass took another drink of moonshine and passed the bottle my way. Raul shook his head.


    "No, it was five. Remember the big guy with the super sledge?" He took one of the kebabs off the fire, examined it, and offered it to Cass.


    "Oh yeah, forgot about him," She said, grabbing the kebab stick and taking a bite.


    "Sounds like Vulpes isn''t going to let up anytime soon..." Two groups of Legion assassins after my head in the span of a week... this is going to get messy before it''s over, no doubt about that. "So, I''m guessing that''s where Boone and ED-E are? Out hunting for more Legionaries?" I asked. Raul nodded, offering me one of the kebabs he''d been cooking; it looked like he was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by the sound of tinny, patriotic marching music ring through the air and getting closer by the second.


    "Well, speak of the devil," I smiled, standing up in time to see ED-E zoom through the air over the nearby ridge and practically m himself into my chest. He let off a trio of happy sounding beeps, and started... was he trying to nuzzle himself into my chest? Did he think he was a dog or something? I patted his chassis, and just chuckled to myself. "Yeah, I missed you too buddy."


    "I''ve finished checking the perimeter. Don''t see any crimson." I heard Boone''s voice before I saw him; he appeared over the ridge, wearing the Desert Ranger armor without the helmet, and holding that desert camo patterned sniper rifle. He paused when he reached the top, looked directly at me, and slid down the ridge. "I see you''re back." He said with a nod; his gaze fell almost immediately to my shoulder. "Have you been stabbed?"


    "Uh..." I let go of ED-E, and scratched the back of my head. "A couple of times, I think. In the shoulder, definitely."


    "What?!" Cass dropped her meat kebab and stood up, looking genuinely worried. "You serious? Somebody <em>stabbed</em> you?"


    "Some<em>things</em>, maybe," I shrugged. Cass just looked confused. "Look, I''ll tell you all about the Ghost People on the way back. Since everyone seems to be here, I say we get out of here and go back to the 38, because I am tired as <em><strong>fuck</strong></em> after thest few days."


    "Whatever you say, boss," Raul smiled at me from his seat, taking a bite from hisst meat kebab... or was it the one Cass had dropped? I couldn''t tell. After that, it only took a few minutes for all of us to gather up everything and get rid of any traces that camp had been made. ED-E was hovering around, beeping happily as Cass, Boone, Veronica and I all piled into my car, and Raul got on his motorcycle.


    I was really looking forward to leaving... and then my car wouldn''t start. I turned the key and pumped the elerator. I could tell from the whining that the startup motor was trying to start the engine, but all I got for my efforts was a massive grinding noise of metal on metal that was most certainly <strong>not</strong> the engine starting. I half sighed, half growled, and turned to look at Cass in the passenger seat.


    "Nothing vital, huh?"


    "So... you two have been poking under the hood for a while," I said to Raul and Veronica; both of them were leaning over the engine. "Any idea why my car isn''t starting?" Normally, I''d check under the hood myself, but since Veronica and Raul were here, and the two of thembined were much better at this sort of thing than I am...


    "Well, I think we should start with the good news first," Veronica said, wiping the grease off her hands. "The problems with the engine have nothing to do with the firefight from the other day."


    "Hah!" I heard Cass speak up. "I told''ja nobody hit nothin'' vital!"


    "So what''s the bad news?" I asked, already dreading the answer.


    "The bad news, boss," Raul pulled himself away from the engine; unlike Veronica, I couldn''t tell if he was covered in grease or not. "Is that this car was gonna break sooner orter."


    "What''s wrong with it?" I asked, walking toward my car and standing between Veronica and Raul to get a look at my engine. One look, and I felt the color run out of my face - there were brown splotches of some kind of fluid sttered on the underside of the hood, and several parts of the engine looked like they''d been forcibly dislodged. It looked like my engine had suffered an awful case of diarrhea. Raul sighed, and started listing off everything wrong with my car.


    "Well, for one thing, the seals around the cylinder head gaskets have been practically eaten away, so there''s nopression around the microfusion cells in thebustion chambers. I mean, on the one hand, we''re sort of lucky the car didn''t start - if it did, it would be leaking nuclear waste, and even a lead-lined engine bay wouldn''t save you smoothskins from the rads for long. Er, no offense, boss."


    "None taken," I said, simple as I could. "Please tell me that''s all that''s wrong with my car?" Raul shook his head.


    "Wish I could, boss. Several of the spark plugs look like the terminals have been melted off. The crankshaft is held together by a thread; what I could find of the fan belt looks like it was held together with duct tape which finally gave out. The flywheel bearing looks like it''s been knocked out of alignment by something sharp and heavy - and covered in something I couldn''t readily identify. And finally, there''s the gearbox."


    "I''m almost afraid to ask, but what about the gearbox?" The longer and longer he went on with thisundry list of cmities, the paler and paler I''m sure I got.


    "Well, when I took a look under the car... Boss, I gotta ask - did you run over a mine or some kind of explosive recently?"


    "Uh..." Immediately, my mind shed back to when I first got to the Mojave. Hazy memories of Benny and the Great Khans that were working with him ambushing me, my car veering wildly off course and crashing into a ditch after hitting a mine. "Yeah? On the... uh, the 10th or 11th ofst month. I think. It was when I got shot in the head, so I''m a little fuzzy on that point." Raul just started nodding slowly.


    "Yeah, that would exin it, boss. The underside of your car looks like it''s been shredded. The casing around the gearbox was probably weakened by the explosion, and only just recently gave out. Frankly, boss? I''m surprised it held out as long as it did."


    "Can ya fix it?" Cass was the one to speak up this time; I was too stunned for words. Veronica shrugged.


    "Sort of? I''m sure I can jury-rig up some fixes for some of the pieces like the cylinder head gaskets if I had some scrap metal, but... uh..." Veronica grimaced. This wasn''t looking promising.


    "The gearbox and the sparkplugs are gonna be a problem, boss." Raul said, closing the hood on my car with a m. "Veronica and I are good, and between the two of us we can get this thing in working order - but only if we can get our hands on some scrap metal, a spare gearbox, and some spark plugs. Until then, this is just a two-ton paperweight."


    "Great..." I muttered, rubbing my forehead. This day just wasn''t going to end, was it? "Where the fuck are we going to find recement parts all the way out here?"


    "Camp Forlorn Hope," Boone spoke up suddenly. Every single one of us - even ED-E - turned to look at him after this unexpected utterance. He just looked back at us with a raised eyebrow behind his sunsses. "What?"


    "The NCR base just north of here?" I asked, walking toward Boone. He nodded. "What makes you think they''re going to have spare parts there?"


    "It''s an NCR Forward Operating Base." Boone stated simply. "If it was just a Ranger outpost, or a 1st Recon encampment, we''d be out of luck, but a FOB is bound to have a motor pool. A motor pool will have spare parts. We just have to barter for them."


    "And if we can''t barter for them?" I asked. Boone shrugged his shoulders - barely, but just enough to be noticeable.


    "Then I guess we''re walking back to the Lucky 38."


    "You know, this is the second time you''ve done this," I said to Boone. He was taking point, and ED-E was flying high above us, keeping watch. Boone looked at me over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.


    "What?" Second what?" he asked.


    "Last time we needed to get some recement parts, you knew where we could find some. Remember when we helped the ghouls at Repconn?"


    "Oh. Right," Boone nodded slowly and kept walking. I followed him, looking around; it was important to be on the lookout for more Legion, especially this close to Nelson, but... I dunno. It felt like we were being watched. Maybe I was just still used to the ustrophobic twists and turns of the Madre, and all these wide open spaces with clear sky overhead was just making me feel terribly exposed...


    "How much farther to the NCR camp?" I asked, trying to get my mind back on track.


    "Not much longer now. Should be just past the next ridge."


    When we cleared the top of the next ridge, I realized that asking may have been a bit silly. I mean, it''s not like we could have missed it. The base was sitting on top of a small cliff, and the entire perimeter of the base was surrounded by fences - either chain-link fences, or hastily constructed concrete barriers - and topped with razor wire. At every corner, I saw a guard tower with an NCR trooper keeping watch. I couldn''t see much of the base beyond the fences, but what I could see looked like row upon row of tents.


    There was only one breach in the fence: some kind of gatehouse, with some waist-high concrete Jersey barriers that looked like they''d been stolen from Highway 93, reinforced with sandbags piled on top of sandbags. The whole thing looked incredibly imposing.


    "There - the ECP." Boone said, quickening his pace. "We can get in through there."


    "EC what now?" I asked, speeding up to march beside him.


    "Entry Control Point. It''s that gatehouse up ahead."


    "You know," I said with a sigh. "I know you don''t believe me, but I don''t <em>actually</em> know any of this military jargon. I''m not ex-military, and I never was." The two of us started walking up a narrow, winding path cut into the side of the small cliff.


    "Hmph," Boone grumbled. "Hopefully the guard won''t ask too many questions."


    "What do you mean, ''too many questions''?" I asked just as the two of us came to the top of the ramp, right outside the gatepost. As if in response, I heard the unmistakable click of someone pulling back on an assault rifle''s charging handle - and saw the guard level his rifle at the two us.


    "Alright, halt! That''s close enough!" He shouted; the two of us stopped, and I nced upward. ED-E was still hovering far above us, and hopefully he wouldn''te down guns zing. I was half tempted to put my hands up, when the guard spoke up again. "Show me your arms!"


    "Eh?" I said aloud, turning to Boone. He grabbed the cor of his duster, and pulled it down around his left arm.


    "He''s looking for the Mark of the Legion," Boone said. Oh! Right. Very quickly, I followed suit, baring my left shoulder like Boone. The soldier at the gatehouse nodded, and lowered his rifle.


    "That''s good enough, you can approach," He said. When the two of us got closer, he started chuckling to himself. "Sorry about that, sirs. We''ve been getting a lot of Legion infiltratorstely. I was wondering when one of you was going to show up. Didn''t expect two." Before I got a chance to question, the guard continued, straightening up and putting on his best official voice. "I''ve been ordered to inform you that Technical Sergeant Reyes in themand tent would like to see you."


    "What do you mean? Who''s Tech Sergeant Reyes?" I asked, but Boone very surreptitiously batted me in the side; I looked over to him, and he shook his head very subtly. The guard sighed.


    "Look, sirs, I know you Rangers operate outside the normalmand structure - especially vets like you who''ve earned the ck Armor - so I can''t <em>actually</em> give you any orders. All I know is Reyes asked everyone on guard duty to be on the lookout for any Rangersing back from patrol, and direct them her way. She has some kind of problem that requires a Ranger''s particr skill set. That''s all I know, sir."


    "Good work, soldier," Boone said, moving in front of me. I think he was trying to keep me from saying anything. "We''ll be sure to check in with her after reporting to the base CO. Carry on." Boone walked past the guard and into the base. I didn''t know what to say... so I didn''t say anything, and just followed him as quick as I could. As soon as we were out of earshot, though...


    "So, he thought we were Rangers?" I asked. Boone nodded. "Why?"


    "The armor," he said. I looked down - and realized I was wearing that Riot Gear that I''d picked up from the Gun Runners. And since Boone was wearing his Desert Ranger armor... "It''s pretty simr to the ck Armor veteran Rangers wear." And then the bottlecap dropped.


    "That''s why you insisted on only the two of us, isn''t it?" Boone nodded - and I thought I caught a glimmer of a smirk start to appear around the corners of his mouth. "So, what about the beret then? I thought it was pretty obvious what the red beret was indicative of." Boone just shrugged.


    "1st Recon troops are allowed to wear the beret, even if they transfer into a different unit. 1st Recon transferring to the Ranger wing after serving a tour is actually prettymon."


    ''Really?" I asked. Boone nodded.


    "It''s what I was going to do. Before... uh..." Boone coughed, clearing his throat, and tried to y it off like it was nothing. "So, are we going to see the Tech Sergeant?"


    "Might as well," I said with a shrug. "If it wasn''t for her, whoever she is, we probably wouldn''t have gotten on the base. Besides, she might be able to help us with our spare parts problem."


    It didn''t take long to find Technical Sergeant Reyes. When we asked around, people gave us the same response: look for the girl with red hair in themand tent - followed by: "You can''t miss her. Trust me."


    "I think that''s her," Boone said after the two of us entered the big tent in the center of camp. I looked over his shoulder - and immediately did a double take.


    "Damn, they weren''t kidding about not being able to miss her, were they?" It was amazing - Boone almostughed!


    Sitting off in one of the corners of the tent, surrounded by electronics andputer terminals and reams upon reams of paper, was a female NCR soldier with absolutely strikingly red hair. And I don''t mean orange - I mean <strong>red</strong>. Her hair was almost the same color as Boone''s beret, and cropped into a short bob cut. Aside from that, though, she looked just like every other NCR trooper I''ve ever seen, with the heavy looking brown fatigues thatpletely disguised any kind of distinguishing features, and made both the men and women look practically alike.


    "Sergeant Reyes?" I said as the two of us got close. She started at the noise, pulled the pen out of her mouth and put it behind her ear, turning in her chair to face us.


    "Ah! I was wondering when I -" She stopped mid-sentence, going back and forth staring between the two of us. "You''re not Rangers."


    Well, that didn''tst long.


    "What do you-" is all I managed to get out, before Reyes stopped me.


    "I''ve been working with enough Rangers over thest four weeks to know that''s not ck Armor. Who are you?" Boone and I looked at each other, and he just shrugged,


    "Well, I''m Sheason Fisher, and this is Boone. And, uh... well, we heard you might be having some problems. As it happens, we need some help as well, so maybe we can help each other."


    "Well..." She regarded the two of us carefully for a few moments, her gaze lingering on Boone''s 1st Recon beret. "I do have work that needs doing - none of it officially sanctioned - and not a single one of the troopers in camp have the time or inclination to help me out..."


    "What do you do here?" Boone asked, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting opposite her. I looked around and found a chair of my own.


    "I handlemunications for Camp Forlorn Hope,piling reports I''ve received from the Rangers at Camp Golf as well as the brass at McCarran. Unofficially, I''m also in charge of radio security. No one else here seems to take it as seriously as I do - they just think I''m an ipetent desk jockey trying to morize the importance of my job."


    "So what do you need help with?" I asked. She held up a finger, and grabbed a few papers from one of the stacks on her desk.


    "Thest few weeks, I''ve been getting help from patrolling Rangers going to all the Ranger outposts along the Colorado River, upgrading their radios with new security code protocols. But now they''ve all got the new security codes, I''ve started receiving several reports, that just... they don''t make sense. Heavy casualties at Alpha, one of the rear-guard stations, <em>Super Mutant</em> Legionaries at Delta..."


    "Wait, Super Mutants?" I asked, turning to Boone; he looked just as confused as me. "I didn''t think the Legion used Super Mutants."


    "That''s what I thought," Reyes nodded. "But that''s not the strangest one. The report that makes no sense to me at all is the report of Great Khans and <em>trained Deathws</em> at Foxtrot."


    "What." Boone and I spoke in unison.


    "That''s what I said. Trained Deathws seems a bit... I dunno, it seems way too far-fetched. I''ve gone over these reports more times than I can count, and... they just can''t be urate. I need someone to do me a solid, and confirm these reports with the Rangers who sent them in."


    "That''s why you had the guards on the lookout for patrolling Rangers then, is it?" I asked. She nodded.


    "Rangers have a lot more autonomy than normal troopers. They don''t need to get field clearance to leave the camp like I do, and they can run unsanctioned missions like this one without orders. And besides, I thought a Ranger might have better luck talking to other Rangers. It''s been working so far."


    "What about someone from 1st Recon?" Boone asked. Reyes looked up at Boone''s beret and shrugged.


    "It''s possible... But what about you two? You said you had a problem of your own?"


    "Car trouble," I said simply. "My car broke down about a mile and half away, and I need some spare parts to fix it. New gearbox, some spark plugs... Boone said this ce has a motor pool?" Reyes looked slightly confused.


    "Well, yeah. It does, but..."


    "I want to ask a question," I said before she got any further. "If you got a Ranger to do this job for you, how long do you think it would take before you got any kind of results or feedback?"


    "Four or five days maybe?" Reyes shrugged. "That is, if they make a bee-line for all the camps and head straight back. Might take more."


    "You help me get the parts I need," I said with a smile. "And I can get this done for you in an afternoon." Her eyes widened, and she looked genuinely surprised.


    "Seriously? You''d do that?" She asked. I nodded.


    "Hey, people do call me The Courier - delivering messages back and forth is the kind of job I''m built for." When I said ''The Courier,'' recognition shed in her eyes.


    "Hang on, you''re that guy from the radio, aren''t you?" I nodded. "Well... alright. Hell, you might actually be able to help me after all."


    "Are we really going to help her?" Boone asked. The two of us were walking away from the base, carrying several sacks worth of spare parts back to my car. ED-E had finally dropped out of the sky, and was now hovering just a few feet above our heads, beeping a tuneless melody. I nodded with a shrug.


    "Might as well. I mean, if I''m honest, I don''t really want to do anything after the bullshit I''ve been through thest couple of days, but... this is a milk run. I could do this kind of job with my eyes closed." Boone grumbled something barely audible, before he spoke up again.


    "You know, I''m always willing to help out NCR. They need all the help they can get, especially now. But..." Boone shook his head. "Sheason, you need to get some sleep."


    "It''s that bad, huh?" I asked. Boone nodded.


    "You''re making me feel tired."


    "<strong>Wow</strong>." I said, chuckling to myself. "Yeah, that''s bad. But like I said - I could practically do this in my sleep. I used to do this kind of thing all the time beforeing to the Mojave, so I should have no trouble with this. I''ll get this done in a couple hours, then I can sleep as long as I want."


    "Hmph," Boone grunted, hiking the bag of car parts further up his shoulder. "Well, you''re wrong about one thing."


    "Am I?" I asked. "About what?"


    "<em>We''ll</em> get this done in couple hours." Boone smirked. "Fair?" I chuckled to myself and nodded.


    "Thanks man. I''m d you''ve got my back."


    "Anytime."

 Chapter 57: Return to Sender

    Chapter 57: Return to Sender


    <em>Wee back to the program. I''m Mr. New Vegas, and in case you''re wondering if you''vee to the right ce? You have. Unconfirmed reports say NCR''s general Lee Oliver may have uprooted from his post at Camp McCarran in order to be present at Hoover Dam. NCR sources have said that holding the dam against Caesar''s Legion has be their main strategic priority and this move would not be unexpected. Today''s headlines have been brought to you by the Phoenix Resort and Casino: rising from the ashes of the old world every single night.</em>


    When I pulled up in front of the Lucky 38, Arcade was waiting for us.


    "There you are!" Arcade sounded incredibly annoyed as he walked up to my side of the car. "Where have you guys been? I''ve been all alone here."


    "Where have <em>we</em> been?" Veronica got out of the backseat and started practically shouting at Arcade. "Where the hell were <em>you</em> when I was looking for you?"


    "What do you mean?" Arcade started backing up, the more Veronica advanced on him. "I''ve been here for thest few days, bored out of my skull, wondering what happened to you guys." Veronica put her hands on her hips and didn''t look convinced in the slightest.


    "On Saturday?" She asked. Comprehension dawned on Arcade''s face, and he tried to smile, but it just ended up as an ufortable grimace.


    "Oh... right. Yeah, uh... I was... off in Westside on Saturday. Meeting up with some... friends. You know." Arcade looked incredibly ufortable from my vantage point behind the wheel. Before I got a chance to watch this incredibly entertaining exchange unfold any more, Cass sidled up to the window.


    "R''you serious ''bout helpin'' that NCR trooper person?" She asked, bending over and leaning into the car. "I mean, y''told us all ''bout all th'' shit y''did in th'' Madre already, an'' y''really look like y''need some sleep..."


    I was really only half paying attention to what she was saying at that particr moment... because from where I was sitting, and the way she was leaning against the car door, I had a clear view straight down her shirt. Call me a pervert or just call me a man; it was a bit distracting, and I was so exhausted that I didn''t even bother being subtle about staring down her cleavage.


    SLAP!


    "C''mon man, this is what''m talkin'' ''bout! Yer zonin'' out on me here." Cass smacked me in the face a couple more times, not quite as hard as the first. "You sure yer gonna be alright?" I tried tough it off.


    "Why, Miss Cassidy? Are you showing <em>genuine</em> concern for my well being? I think I''m gonna swoon!" I put on my best shit-eating grin, and mock-fainted, putting the back of my hand against my forehead, and using the other to fan myself. Cass rolled her eyes and socked me in the shoulder.


    "Jerk. I''m jus'' worried ''bout you, y''know?"


    "Yeah, I know. And thanks, but don''t worry about me. This is gonna be as easy as shooting radroaches. Besides, I''ve got Boone and ED-E to watch my back. I''ll be fine." Cass got up from the car, but still didn''t look convinced.


    "I''m holdin'' you to that. Y''don''te back, I''m gonna find ya, an'' I''m gonna beat yer ass fer makin'' me worry like this. Punk." She smiled at me with thatst word, and then turned to walk up the stairs into the Lucky 38. I was just about to turn the car around and leave, when I heard Veronica call out to me.


    "Wait! Hang on, there''s something I forgot to tell you!" She rushed up to the car, and I put it back in park; the car was still running, and keeping it idling for this long was just gonna drain the charge out of the microfusion cells. "Before you go, I want you to keep in mind - go easy on the throttle, okay? I know how heavy your right foot is, but if you push the car too hard, it might break again."


    "Uh... didn''t you and Raul <em>fix</em> the car?" I asked, already starting to get a nasty tingling in the pit of my gut. Veronica shrugged.


    "Well... yeah, we got the biggest problems fixed. And I''m sure most of it''ll hold, but..."


    "But?" I asked, starting to get genuinely concerned.


    "The only thing that really worries me are those head gaskets. It was kind of a rush job. I''m just not sure the seals will hold if the engine goes too far above six-thousand RPM. And if the seals break while the engine''s running, then... the whole thing might explode."


    "Please tell me you''re being metaphorical." I already knew she wasn''t.


    "You have a 3 megawatt fusion reactor built into an internalbustion engine in the back of your car." Veronica said, deathly serious. "If it explodes, it <strong>going</strong> to be in a mushroom cloud."


    Great.


    "I''ll go easy on the elerator then," I said, putting on the best fake smile I could to convey confidence I didn''t feel. "Thanks for the tip. Boone and I will be back in a few hours."


    The first stop on our little excursion was Ranger Station Alpha. This wasn''t like Forlorn Hope, all official and fortified; it was just a cluster of three tents, surrounded by a hastily constructed fence reinforced with sandbags. What made it really stand out - and what made me sure we were in the right ce - was the massive metal radio tower in the center of the camp, rising up a good twenty or thirty feet in the air.


    "Not exactly subtle, is it?" I said to Boone as we drove closer. He just shrugged.


    "Maybe not. But how else are they going to get messages to Golf and McCarran?"


    "I suppose," I said, parking the car just outside the fence. Boone and I made our way up to the camp, and were met on the way up by a female NCR ranger. She wasn''t wearing ck Armor, but the dark brownposite ceramic tes she was wearing on her chest and the campaign hat sitting atop her head made her unmistakable for anything else.


    "This is a military outpost," She said, a hunting rifle in hand. She eyed the two of us, but raised an eyebrow when she spotted Boone''s beret. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"


    "Are you Ranger Lineholm?" I asked. She eyed me warily, tipping her hat up, and brushing her short ck hair out of her face to get a better look at me.


    "Depends on who''s asking."


    "Tech Sergeant Reyes sent me. I''m Sheason, this is Boone. She''s curious about the high casualties at this station." She rxed a bit when I mentioned the Sergeant... but then she looked terribly confused.


    "High casualties?" She asked, eyeing me like I''d lost my mind. "We''ve had a single broken ankle, but nobody as this post has <em>died</em>." Boone and I nced at each other; I could tell, a red g had just raised in his mind as well.


    "Reyes'' information says otherwise," Boone said. The Ranger just shrugged.


    "Any injury, illness, or death gets radioed to Ranger HQ at Camp Golf. Chief Hanlon and his aidespile the reports and assign reinforcements as needed. I can say with absolute certainty that they''re not needed here."


    "So how could her information be wrong?" I asked.


    "Not sure," Lineholm said. "There are plenty of other Ranger posts around. It''s entirely possible Reyes might have mixed up the report."


    "No sudden moves and you and I will do all right. What do you want?" The Ranger here at Outpost Delta, a ck man with a massive horseshoe mustache, seemed just a bit jumpier than the Rangers at Alpha. I couldn''t really me him - Ranger Outpost Delta was built into the side of a cliff right next to the Colorado River, just north of Boulder City and within view of Hoover Dam.


    "You''re Ranger Pason, right? I''m here on behalf of Tech Sergeant Reyes," I was going to continue, but this Ranger cut me off.


    "Squirrely little red-head girl,munications officer at Forlorn Hope, right?" I nodded. "Yeah, I know her. Why is she sending a civilian to a secure military instation?"


    "Because she wants to get a confirmation about a report you filed from this outpost - something about Legion Super Mutants who wiped out an NCR patrol?" Again, I got a look of confusion.


    "No. I didn''t file a report like that. You might hear that kind of nonsense from a drunk trooper on the Strip, but not from me. The Legion doesn''t have Super Mutants. That patrol was wiped out by its own ipetence - a couple of troopers were fooling around with a grenade when it went off." Again, another red g was raised in my head. This was starting to seem very suspicious...


    "This doesn''t seem like the kind of thing she''d mix up with another Ranger station..." I said, stroking my beard and trying to work this out. "If you didn''t file the report, then who did?"


    "All Ranger reports go through Camp Golf," he said. "If anyone made a mistake, I bet it was one of Chief Hanlon''s aides. Those desk jockeys wouldn''t know the business end of a rifle if they were smashed over the head with one."


    The final Ranger post Reyes wanted us to check, unlike the other two, wasn''t situated along the Colorado River. Ranger Outpost Foxtrot was actually about halfway up Mount Charleston, about a half a mile south of the Kyle Canyon road.


    "No run-ins with any Great Khans, I hope?" Another female Ranger approached the two of us as we walked toward the outpost. She was wearing a cowboy hat, rather than a campaign hat, and the ceramic chest te had an anatomically correct heart painted off-center, with a small gold lock bolted to the middle of the image. "They''ve been more restless than usual."


    "Do you get a lot of Great Khan sightings out here?" Boone asked. I don''t think she caught it, but I could tell Boone was doing his best to hide the edge in his voice.


    "Well, we are pretty close to Red Rock. What can I do for you boys?"


    "Are you Ranger Kudlow? Do you know Sergeant Reyes out of Camp Forlorn Hope?" I asked, getting a single nod. "She sent us here to confirm your report about Great Khans with trained Deathws." She was smiling; she stopped immediately.


    "<strong>What?</strong>" She lookedpletely aghast. "I think somebody fucked up somewhere. I haven''t filed any report like that. Trained Deathws?" She shook her head. "I think I would have <em>remembered</em> something like that. If someone is saying I filed that report, that''s a load of bull. I won''t have my name attached to a clerical error." A third red g. This was definitely beyond coincidence now.


    "Let me guess," Boone spoke up before I got a chance. "All the reports that go through Camp Golf - they''re all signed off by Chief Hanlon?" She nodded.


    "I think I see themon thread here..." I said aloud.


    "So, why do they call this ce Forlorn Hope?" After checking in with thest Ranger post, Boone and I came back to this ce. The two of us walked through the base, toward themand tent so we could talk with Tech Sergeant Reyes and inform her of what we''d found. "I mean, that name is a bit... grim, isn''t it?" Boone didn''t answer immediately.


    "Do you really want to know why they call this ce a Forlorn Hope?" Boone said eventually. I nodded slowly... but then I thought: <em>Okay, maybe this is a bad idea...</em> especially when we turned a corner, heading off in a direction that definitely wasn''t toward themand tent.


    "Boone, where are we... oh shit." My eyes went wide, and I was renderedpletely speechless by the sight in front of me. He''d led me to the edge of a massive graveyard. Row upon row of hastily erected crosses. There must have been at least a hundred - maybe more - and it was pretty clear that whoever had sectioned off this ce for graves had left lots of space for even more...


    "Camp Forlorn Hope has the highest attrition rate of any base in the NCR. The official reason for the name is the creek that runs through the center of the base. But the <em>real</em> reason is that more troops die on patrol here than anywhere else in the Mojave. When I was stationed here with 1st Recon, the troopers all said that going on patrol meant there was a 50/50 chance you''de back in a bag... or not at all."


    "Wee back," Reyes said when the two of us got near her desk. She looked down at her watch. "Wow. You weren''t kidding when you said you''d get this done in an afternoon. Did you two check in with the Ranger outposts?" Boone and I exchanged nces.


    "Yeah... we checked in with all the Rangers. And the reason the reports don''t make sense, is because they didn''t file them." I said, pulling up a chair.


    "ording to the Rangers," Boone added. "Chief Hanlon at Camp Golf signed off all the reports." I could practically hear the pin drop in Reyes'' mind after that bombshell was dropped.


    "I knew it!" She smacked her palm with the underside of her fist. "I knew there something wrong, and they couldn''t be urate... but... why would the Chief manipte the reports?"


    "Maybe we should ask him?" I said. Reyes looked at me like she hadn''t even considered that option. "If he''s not responsible, maybe he knows who is."


    "I''m not sure they''d let us into Camp Golf," Boone said, looking... not worried, but... something else. "It''s not like here, or the Ranger camps we''ve been to. The only ces more heavily fortified in the Mojave are McCarran or Hoover Dam."


    "I might be able to help with that," Reyes spoke up. "I can radio ahead, give you clearance to enter the base. I know you''ve already been out there, but I think taking everything we''ve found to Chief Hanlon and confronting him with it is the best option. I... I don''t think we should make this public unless we have to. At least, not until we have all the answers."


    "Do you know anything about Camp Golf?" I asked Boone as the NCR base came into view. It didn''t really look as fortified from a distance as Boone had said. In fact, it looked like a golf course... which, I suppose, it probably was before the war, now I thought about it.


    "It was on the front line for a while," Boone said, scanning the horizon as we got closer to the base. "Only resort in New Vegas no one wanted to get sent to. Doesn''t have that kind of importance anymore, though. They pulled most of the troops out of there after NCR took the Hoover Dam." I stopped the car just short of the front gate, and cut the engine.


    "I thought you said the only ce more heavily fortified was-"


    "It''s still fortified," Boone cut me off as the two of us started walking through the base gates; the guard took one look at us and waved us through. I guess Reyes'' calling ahead worked. "The only troops left are Rangers. Most of them are vets - and most of <em>those</em> are ghouls; Rangers who''ve been patrolling the waste for 200 years. Any one of them is worth 50 men."


    Most of the base featured row after row of tents, and sandbag barricades. There was only one permanent structure: a massive three-story building that sat in the middle of the base. Despite the squat stature, it seemed to tower over everything else... and when I saw the name over the door, it made much more sense.


    "House Resort... Gee, I wonder who built this ce?" I said aloud, scowling at the name. I can''t be certain, but I think I heard Boone actually chuckle.


    "Can I help you boys?" I heard a gravelly voice from behind me; it sounded like a ghoul talking through an air filter. I turned around, and saw, for the first time, real ck Armor. The chest armor was actually ck, rather than dark grey like mine, and had "LAPD Riot" stenciled on the chest. Not even the hundreds upon hundreds of dents and scratches in the armor could hide the color. The brown trench coat had an image of a bear rearing up toward a star painted on the shoulder. Even though his face was covered by the helmet and gas mask, I could tell it was one of the ghoul Ranger veterans Boone had talked about.


    "We''re looking for Chief Hanlon - Sergeant Reyes from Forlorn Hope sent us. Do you know where to find him?" I asked. The Ranger just pointed up, at a balcony above the front entrance.


    "The Chief''s usually up there around now, keeping watch on Lake Mead."


    "Chief Hanlon?" I called out when I walked onto the balcony. There was only one man sitting on a chair with his back to the door, next to a small table with a radio. He turned slightly, and nodded a head full of shaggy white hair. As Boone and I walked out onto the balcony, he settled back into his chair... and started talking.


    "Back west, you don''t see too many of these." His words were slow and deliberate, and tinged with exhaustion. It reminded me of just how tired I felt... but I shook it off, trying to make sense of his words.


    "Don''t see too many of what?" He looked up at me, and motioned with his head toward the east - and a surprisingly majestic view of Lake Mead. The mid afternoon sun glistened over the top of the water; it almost looked... unreal.


    "Lakes. Natural or man-made. Any kind, really. NCR neglected the dams or pumped all the water out a long time ago. Owens, Isabe, the San Luis. Drained the aquifers of everything they had. Just a lot of mud and dust now. It''s a different feeling, seeing the sun reflect off the water like this... takes some getting used to. But if you''re here long enough, it starts to seem normal. That''s what a Ranger''s life is now. Looking east..." He looked up at me again, scrutinizing me with very, very tired eyes. "Sorry for ramblin'' on like this... Yeah, I''m Chief Hanlon. You must be that Courier folks have been talking about. Word on the radio is that someone wronged you back in Goodsprings."


    "Yeah," I moved around to face him, leaning against the railing. He coughed, his white beard twitching. "I''m The Courier. That guy who wronged me got his own back, though." Hanlon nodded slowly.


    "The Mojave has a bad habit of burning decent people up... but I''ve heard a lot about you over the radio. And from what I hear, it sounds like you''ve done right by the NCR. It''s appreciated." He started nodding; I looked over to Boone, who hadn''t moved far from the door. He looked as confused as I felt, and shrugged. "Now... what can I do for you?"


    "I''m investigating some intel problems for Technical Sergeant Reyes." I said, in as I could. Hanlon''s beard twitched again.


    "Interesting that she would wrangle someone else into sorting out the problem. But I suppose you''re in the right ce. A lot of inteles through here." His beard twitched again.


    "Do you know anything about the problems?" Boone asked, walking up behind the Chief.


    "I don''t know Technical Sergeant Reyes," He said, his beard twitching again. "But coordinating intel can be messy sometimes. Things get mixed up, people get confused. Heck, I get confused and I''ve been doing this for a long time now. What he - or she - sees as a problem might be standard operating procedure. That''s not to say Reyes is wrong for being concerned, but it''s easy for the sand to get in your eyes out here."


    I folded my arms over my chest, and regarded him for a very long time. The air between the three of us was silent... until.


    "Alright, answer me this. If you don''t know Tech Sergeant Reyes, why''d you call her a ''she'' first thing?" Hanlon stared back at me, not saying anything - but his eyes said enough. It was the look of a man who knew he''d just been made. "How about we start again: I know you''re the one who''s been manipting intelligence data. Care to exin why?"


    "Hold on." He raised a hand, and got up from his chair; I couldn''t tell if it was the chair that creaked so loud, or if it was him making that noise. "If we''re going to have this conversation, let''s go somewhere more private. Follow me down to my office. Don''t worry," his beard twitched again. "Not much bite left in this old dog."


    Chief Hanlon''s office was very Spartan. The only thing on the wall was a massive topographical map of the area between Camp Golf and Hoover Dam. There weren''t even any windows. When Boone and I entered the office, Hanlon was already sitting behind his desk.


    "Close the door," he said, his fingersced together in front of his face. "And have a seat."


    "Alright," I said, sitting in one of the chairs opposite him. "So let''s hear it: why?" Hanlon let out a single, grim chuckle, and leaned back in his chair; I don''t know if it was the way he was sitting, or what, but it really showcased how much of a gut he had.


    "Sorting and manipting intelligence is what I do. It''s what Rangers are supposed to do. This job isn''t all gunfights, bar room brawls, and gulping shots of whiskey, no matter what the boys and girls out there say."


    "But you''re inventing intelligence," Boone spoke up. "I''ve seen the logs. Talked to the Rangers, same as Sheason here."


    "You have, have you?" Hanlon''s beard twitched, and I realized - he was smirking. "Misdirection. When you''re pinned down, outnumbered, and two days from any help, it''s just about the best friend you can have." Images of the Sierra Madre shed in my head as he talked. "Misdirection''s what''s saved me all these years. It''s what saved us at Hoover Dam. But it''s been close to five years now, and Caesar''s right across thatke. He''s closer now than he ever was before. I was a young man once. I know what it''s like to want to fight for your home, but this?" Hanlon shook his head. "This isn''t it."


    "So how does spreading fake intelligence help anything?" I asked. I could tell he had a n here, but I couldn''t figure out what. What could he possibly achieve by doing this?


    "People back home don''t listen. They don''t care. Senators... Brahmin barons... folks who are just trying to make it from day to day. It''s been so many years that people forget about it. Conscription brings in fresh troops to die here every month. Like it''s routine. And even if we hold this dam, what then? Are we going to send the NCR''s men and women to die here for another five years? Ten? Patrol the whole length of the Colorado for hundreds of miles? Holding this dam... it''ll be the death of us." Boone and I looked at each other; I didn''t understand his rationale, and neither did Boone by the looks of it.


    "You didn''t answer his question," Boone said. I nodded.


    "Yeah - I mean, what does spreading fake intel about Legion Super Mutants and trained Deathws even aplish?"


    "Creating fear and instability among the troopers without causing harm," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It was the only thing I could think of to shake things up."


    "But why?" Boone asked. "The troops have enough to be afraid of. I know." Hanlon sighed.


    "Because... it''s never going to end. This fight with Caesar. People back home don''t know what these young men and women are in for. The Legion is the worst enemy we''ve ever faced, but we can''t stop Caesar here. Not without getting a lot of good people killed. More than anyone cares to count up. And even if we do stop him, I don''t see how we''re ever going to be able to pull out..."


    "So. What do you think I should do about this?" I asked. Hanlon let out another grim chuckle, same as before.


    "Well... first thing thates to mind is to turn me in. But that might not be the best y, all things considered. Even if your heart''s in the right ce, I reckon it might do a lot more harm than good."


    "What do you mean?" I asked. It looked like the Chief was about to answer, but Boone spoke up for him instead.


    "Hanlon here is a legend. He was the one who came up with the idea to blow up Boulder City around the Legion veterans. If people found out he was spreading lies like this, the blow to morale would be..." Boone trailed off; he looked ill.


    "Alright... so what will you do if I <strong>don''t</strong> turn you in?"


    "General Oliver can''t stand that Rangers got credit for victory at Hoover. Whatever I rmend, he does the opposite. I said I wanted them on the ridge; he put them right on the western part of the dam itself. We don''t have the firepower to hold that spot. If the troopers fall back - and they will - the Rangers will advance to cover Oliver''s retreat. We''ll lose the dam, and Oliver and the senate will be ruined."


    "But that means... what''ll happen to you and the Rangers?" I knew what wasing even before he said it.


    "Rangers are volunteers. Every man and woman who signs up is willing to die for the NCR, myself included. A lot of this is my fault. It''s only right I stand with them, when the endes."


    "That..." I tried to think of something to say. "That''s crazy." Hanlon shrugged.


    "Maybe fifty Rangers will die on that dam. We lose over a thousand troopers every year. Being here is crazy. Getting out''s the only sane thing to do."


    I didn''t know what to do. I couldn''t let him carry on, creating false intel like he had been because that was just going to do more harm than good to people just doing their jobs, but I couldn''t turn him in, because like Boone said - the hit to morale would be devastating, and would do just as much harm as letting him stay. And that''s when it hit me. In that instant, I figured out a way to fix this: something that Cass had said when I first met her.


    "Punch the head, don''t kick the feet..." I muttered aloud. Both Boone and Hanlon looked at me curiously. I shook it off, and tried to borate. "I have an idea. Oliver and the senate are the problem you said, right? It''s not the troopers stationed around the Mojave. Doing what you''ve been doing isn''t going to help anyone - if anything, it''ll just make the NCR weaker when Caesar finally tries to bull-rush the dam. If you want to bring down Oliver and the senate, you need to bring the fight to them. And you can''t do that from the Mojave."


    "So... what?" he said, looking confused for the first time. "Do you suggest I go back to California then?"


    "That''s exactly what I''m saying. If you go back to California, then I won''t have to expose this plot of yours, and you don''t have to carry on spreading misinformation and lies. Hell, if you go to California and just tell the truth of what''s going on here, you might even be able to do some good. You say people don''t know what it''s like out here? Maybe this can be your chance to <em>tell them</em>."


    "What about the dam?" He said. I could tell from his tone of voice that he was mulling it over, but he wasn''t entirely convinced. "Any day now, Caesar''s going toe knocking. And I should... I need to stand with my boys when the endes."


    "Leave Caesar to me," I said with a smirk. Hanlon did a double take; I''m sure I was getting strange looks from Boone as well.


    "You? What can you do, you''re just one man."


    "I''m The Courier," I said with a smile. "I already died once, and that barely slowed me down. And I''ve stopped <em>one</em> genocidal madman from blowing up the wastnd this week. Caesar should be a walk in the park. I give you my word - if Caesar''s army tries to cross Hoover Dam, I''ll stop him dead in his tracks."


    "But that''s..." Hanlon shook his head. "That''s not possible. The NCR has an army that covers California, and we can barely hold back the tide. You''re just one man..."


    "One man, sure... a man who knows about an <em>army</em>. An army made of titanium, and armed with rockets andsers and fuck-all knows who else. It''s over a thousand strong, and poised to crush the Legion like radroaches under its treads. And besides... I''ve got a score to settle with him, anyway. Trust me - that bald, big nosed bastard won''t stand a chance."


    Hanlon stared at me in ck-jawed astonishment. I had no idea if I got through to him. I had no idea if this n was going to work. And as the seconds ticked by, it seemed more and more like he was just going to say ''this conversation never happened'' and shove us out of his office. But then, he stood up, and slowly walked over to the map hanging on the wall.


    "You know... all these years I''ve been a Ranger... I wandered the wastes, trying to find some kind of purpose to all this madness. People have called me a ''legend'' or a ''hero'' for the things I''ve done in the past, before I wound up stuck behind this desk... but not once, in all the years I''ve done this job have I ever found the conviction that I saw in your eyes just now." He turned back to face me. "A real Ranger knows when it''s time to step down. And I guess... I just didn''t know when to quit."


    "Happens to the best of us," I said, getting up from my chair. Hanlon shook his head.


    "Yeah, well... I haven''t been at my best for years. And I can''t protect anybody from out here." The Chief started slowly nodding his head. "I''ll head back to California - on one condition."


    "What condition?" I asked.


    "Never lose that conviction. Never lose that fire. Use it to protect the people out here - like I used to. Like I should have been doing all this time."


    "Trust me," I said. "I won''t let Caesar take the Mojave." Hanlon nodded... and then reached down, pulling his revolver from its holster on his belt.


    "Here," he said, flipping it around in his hand, holding the barrel and handing me the grip. "I want you to have this. I''m not gonna need it, where I''m going."


    "What is it?" I took therge, double-action revolver, and turned it around in my hands to examine it. It was a massive pistol, with a dark metal finish and gold filigree designs iid in the metal. The grip was made of wood, with a picture of a bear reaching for a star engraved in gold. On one side of the barrel the words "For Honorable Service" were engraved, and on the opposite side of the barrel was the phrase "Against All Tyrants"


    "It''s called a Ranger Sequoia," Hanlon said, simply. "Some of the boys have nicknamed it ''The Monster of the West.'' A Sequoia is only ever given to Rangers who''ve served 20 years - but the idea behind it is that it''s a badge of dedication. Only those with the utmostmitment to the cause should ever be granted that weapon. And I''ve already shown... I''m not that kind of Ranger any more. But you - I can tell. You''re going to keep the wastnd safe. You''re more of a Ranger than I ever was. Than I ever could be."


    "I''ll stop the Legion. I''ll put an end to Caesar''s tyranny. I promise."


    "I hope you''re right," Hanlon sighed. "For all our sakes."

 Chapter 58: Cooling Down and Heating Up

    Chapter 58: Cooling Down and Heating Up


    <em>Hey, hey, it''s Mr. New Vegas letting you know I''ve got a new Christmasptioning out soon; Nuclear Winter Wondend. Look for it, on holotape. Got some more ssics heading your way</em>. <em>First out of the queue is Louis Jordan and His Tympany Band telling us to "Let the Good Times Roll." Up next, only on Radio New Vegas.</em>


    I offered to give Hanlon a ride - as far as the Mojave Outpost, at least - but he declined. Said he had a bit more work to do, fixing the damage he''d already done, and ensuring the Rangers would still have leadership, and then he''d find his own way back to California. Apparently, he had a ranch up near Redding, and if he was going to start anywhere, it should be there. Even so, the trip back to the 38 was pretty quiet. Boone was being as sparkling a conversationalist as he always is. But then, about halfway through Henderson...


    "So. What <em>really</em> happened to you in the Sierra Madre?"


    "Say what?" I asked, the question catching me slightly off guard.


    "You seem... a bit different."


    "Different how?" I said, turning off one of the side roads to get onto 93 heading north.


    "How you dealt with Chief Hanlon, for one," Boone said, scanning the horizon. "I expected you to make a different call. And there was the way you called yourself ''The Courier.'' I didn''t think you liked that title."


    "Well... I..." I hadn''t really thought about it. Not consciously, at least. But now that Boone had asked about it, I <em>was</em>... "There was a lot about what went down in the Sierra Madre that I just... I glossed over earlier. Part of it was because it was a lot of stupid, insignificant details I didn''t think you guys would be too interested in. But... a lot of it was because Veronica was in the car with us. And I didn''t want to pile anything more on her than I already had."


    "Veronica?" Boone looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. "What has she got to do with anything?"


    "I... met two people from her past while I was there. And one of them - the woman - said some things that... I guess must have taken root deeper than I thought. She said that people are like couriers - sometimes never understanding the messages they bring." I tried to focus on the road; it was pretty much a straight shot from here to the Vegas wall, so there wasn''t really anything to focus <em>on</em>. "And then,ter, when I... when..." Images shed in my head, of myst conversation with Christine in the teleport chamber. That brief, shining glimmer in her eye - that was snuffed out by resigned, soul-crushing despair.


    "Shea?" Boone grabbed my shoulder, and shook me out of it. "You alright?"


    "Yeah, I''m... I''m fine," I rubbed my eyes with a free hand, and shook my head. "Point is, it wasn''t untilter, right before I came back to the Mojave. I used The Courier to try and convince her of something. It... it didn''t work, but... I saw something in her eyes."


    "What did you see?" Boone asked.


    "I saw hope. It was only for a brief moment, but... it made me realize, if only subconsciously, what The Courier could be. As Sheason Fisher, I''m just a man. A walk-the-wastnd fuck, with no purpose beyond simply survival. I''m flesh and blood, I can be beaten, broken, killed. But as The Courier - Courier Six - I can be more than just a man. I can be a symbol, an idea, a... a <em>message. </em>One that I can use and shape. Normal couriers bring messages to people in the wastnd every day. But <em>The</em> Courier can bring a different kind of message: one of hope. I know it sounds stupid and corny, but..." I sighed heavily. "I''m 39 years old. I''ve never really done anything with my life beyond simply surviving. Sheason Fisher is just a fuck-up. But maybe... maybe as a symbol... The Courier can do something better. The Courier can <em>do</em> better." Boone sat silent for a few minutes, soaking up everything I''d said in that monologue of mine.


    "Do you really think The Courier can bring hope to the wastnd?" I shrugged.


    "It gave me a third option with Chief Hanlon. I saw that same glimmer of hope in his eyes when I gave him a way out, only this time it didn''t go away. And that''s better than Sheason Fisher could''ve done, anyway."


    "Hmph," Boone sat back in his seat, surveying thendscape again. "Maybe that''s true. But it was Sheason Fisher who helped me put the ghosts of Bitter Springs to rest, not The Courier." He turned back to me. "No matter what you decide though, you can count on me to have your back."


    When I finally got back to my room, I was dragging my feet. No two ways about it - I was positively spent. My bed was practically calling my name... but I''d been armed to the teeth and wearing armor for far too long. So, I went over to the desk in my suite, and began what would be the ridiculous process of disarming.


    I pulled Roscoe out of the drop-leg holster on my thigh and ced it on the table with a thunk. I grabbed That Gun and pulled it from its holster on the back of my belt, and ced it on the desk next to Roscoe. I unbuttoned the underarm holster I''d swiped from the Madre, and pulled out the Ranger Sequoia, setting the massive pistol next to the other two. I shrugged my shoulder and leaned both the Holorifle and Gauss Rifle against the desk, and then I pulled the Anti-Materiel Rifle off my back and leaned it against the wall next to the desk. A minute or twoter, nearly everything else was off my person and on the desk: ammo of various calibers, including two dozen microfusion cells, several grenades, three dozen stimpacks, some Med-X, a few Rad-X tablets, a switchde, thebat knife I kept strapped to my right boot, one of the Sierra Madre''s Cosmic Knives, and finally, in the center of the desk, I set down the gold bar. After that was done, I pulled off the Riot Armor, leaned the chestte against the desk next to the Holorifle and Gauss Rifle, tossed the duster away, and just stepped back to... <em>admire</em>.


    "That... how was I carrying all that?" I looked at the massive pile of weapons and ammunition covering the entire table... and just startedughing. It was ridiculous. Somehow, circumstances had turned me into walking armory. Hell, now that I wasn''t carrying all that crap, I felt almost 100 pounds lighter!


    And that wasn''t the most ridiculous thing: there were yet more weapons scattered around my room in various corners. Rifles and pistols of various makes and models that I''d stolen from raiders, bandits, and Legionaries; bucketloads of ammunition and grenades; about 8 pounds of C4 that we hadn''t used to blow up the Silver Rush... and speaking of that, there was still the mountain of energy weapons I had yet to sort through, with the Sprtel-Wood 9700 crowning the pile. One of these days, I''m going to make a legitimate armory for this eclectic collection of guns and ammo.


    "Ha-ha-haa... ohh, I need to get some sleep." I got a grand total of two steps away from the desk and toward my bed.


    Knock-knock-knock!


    "Well," I sighed heavily, turning away from my bed. "That''s just fucking typical, isn''t it?" I barely turned the handle before the door was swung open; I got shbacks to several days ago, when Cass and I went bar hopping and ended up... But it wasn''t Cass nearly hitting me in the face with the door and dragging me out into the hall this time - it was Veronica.


    "V? What-" I didn''t really get a chance to finish.


    "C''mon Shea! We''re all heading out to go get some dinner!" Veronica grabbed me by my shirt, pulled me out of my room, through the hallway, and into the elevator. My eyes stopped spinning long enough for me to look up to see Cass and Boone already waiting for us. Boone, like me, was no longer wearing his armor, but he was still wearing his sunsses and beret - even though the sun was close to setting.


    "Hey guys..." I said. Cass gave me a smile and a tip of her hat; Boone just nodded subtly in my direction. "So, is it just us, or...?" Veronica shook her head and sidled up next to Cass.


    "Oh no, Arcade and Raul are already downstairs, waiting for us." Veronica slipped an arm around Cass'' shoulders.


    "So... where are we''re going? What''s this ce called?"


    "Not sure of the name, but it''s a seafood ce somewhere in Freeside. Don''t know exactly where, but Arcade said it''s close enough we could probably just walk. So, we''ll be following him." Something about that didn''t really make sense...


    "Wait, hang on," I asked, just as the elevator doors opened onto the 38''s casino floor. "Seafood? We''re in the middle of the <strong>desert</strong>." Veronica shrugged at my question.


    "Arcade says they get the food from Lake Mead. It''s mostly Lakelurk meat, stuff like that." Veronica and Cass walked right on past me, arm in arm. I sighed and shrugged. I was way too tired to put up any kind of decent fight.


    Okay. I admit it. Food was a good call.


    This ce was actually pretty nice. The food was even good enough to almost make me forget that the meat came from a six-foot tall mutant crab-fish-creature. But the best part about this little outing was not the food or the ambiance, but how everyone was together, getting along, and just... having a good time. Cass, Boone, Veronica, Arcade, Raul - even ED-E was buzzing around the table as we ate, talked andughed. I was actually surprised the owners of the ce let him stay... though, maybe the fact that the front half of the restaurant was copsed and the only ceiling was over the kitchen yed a part in that decision...


    As pleasant as all this was, eating good food among friends under a starlit cloudless night sky could only carry me so far. The food helped me catch a second (third? fourth? <em>ninth?</em>) wind, but I was still tired. So, after finishing off the second helping ofkelurk casserole I got up from the table.


    "Shea?" Veronica looked up at me, confused. "What''s up?"


    "Guys, this has been fun. Seriously - but I think I''ve been awake for... I dunno, three days? I''ve got to go back to the 38 and get some sleep." I reached into my pockets and pulled out a handful of caps, starting to count them out. "Here''s my share for the food."


    "Don''t worry about it," Arcade said, waving it off. "I''ve got you covered, dinner''s on me."


    "You sure?" I asked. "I mean, it''s not like I can''t -"


    "It''s the least I could do for not being there for you earlier," Arcade smiled and shrugged. "Go and get some sleep, I''m sure we''ll all see you in the morning."


    I waved goodbye to everyone and headed out into Freeside. Off to the south, I saw the light spilling off the casinos on The Strip, but directly ahead I could still see a nket of stars enveloping the sky. I smiled to myself, still just d that I could see the sky again. I started walking down the street, back toward the strip, when I shoved my hands in my pockets - wait, what''s that?


    "The hell?" I looked down, pulling out something I didn''t expect: Dean''s packet of smokes. I''dpletely forgotten I still had them on me. I flipped open the top - still half a box left. I shrugged, grabbing one with my mouth. "Eh. Why not?" I didn''t get all that far before a familiar sound made me stop. At least, I thought it was a familiar sound. Was that...


    "ED-E?" I called out, looking around with the cigarette still hanging loosely. "That you? Decided to follow me, huh?"


    "Nah," I heard a familiar voice call out from the darkness. "S''jus'' me."


    "Hey Cass," I said with a smile as she stepped into the glow of the nearby streetlight. "Come to escort me home? What a gentleman." Cass rolled her eyes and smiled.


    "Har-de-har-har. Nah, I''m jus'' makin'' sure yer ass don''t get in any more trouble on th'' way back. Knowin'' yer luck, you''re gonna get abducted by aliens on th'' way back''r somethin''." I couldn''t help but chuckle... and then I decided it would be a good idea to nce at the sky anyway. When I was convinced there weren''t any flying saucers, the two of us started walking down the street back to The Strip.


    "So..." I lit the smoke, snapping the lighter shut when I was finished. "I wanted to thank you again. You have no idea how great a feeling it was, seeing all of you when I finally got back. Really - thanks foring after me." It was really great to see <em>you</em> first thing when I got back even more than anyone else, I thought to myself... but didn''t say. Cass shrugged.


    "S''like I said before. You''d do th'' same for any''ve us."


    "You know, there''s a problem with that," I said. Cass looked up at me, confused.


    "An'' what''s that?"


    "You guys aren''t stupid enough to get yourself in the same kind of trouble that I get up to." I said with a smirk. Cass started tough at first, but... her expression faltered, and she bit her lower lip slightly.


    "Yeah... maybe. R''maybe we jus'' get up t''a diff''rent sort''ve trouble..." It took a minute for me to put two and two together.


    "Still haven''t told her, huh?" Cass looked away from me, so all I could see was rattan hat obscuring her face as she shook her head. "Hm. Yeah, well... if it makes you feel any better... you''re not alone when ites to keeping things from Veronica." That made her perk up again, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.


    "What d''ya mean?" She asked. "I mean... r''you talkin'' ''bout... uh, the other night? Cuz, I don'' think that counts - I mean, we were both shitfaced, an'' that was... I mean..." I blew a cloud of smoke out my nose, trying to hold back... honestly, I''m not sure if it was supposed to be augh or a cough from choking.


    "No, no... well, yes, I haven''t told her about <em>that</em>, but that''s not what I''m talking about here." I let out a heavy sigh. "There''s... some things about the Madre I didn''t really... er, <em>borate</em> on when I told you guys about what happened, just because V was in the car. I was going to tell her. But then, when I told her the <em>first</em> bit of bad news, I just..." I closed my eyes and shook my head, unable to get that <em>look</em> of hers out of my head.


    ''Y''just don'' want to tell her any bad news." Cass finished my sentence for me. I nodded. "Yeah, I know what y''mean... Every time I think ''right, m''gonna tell her that m''jus'' lookin'' t''bang, an'' I''m not lookin'' fer a girlfriend,'' I jus'' freeze up, an'' I don''t wanna tell her ANY bad news! I don'' wanna do anythin'' but grab her an'' hold her to m''chest, an'' jus'' tell her that everythin'' s''alright... an'' then I jus'' wanna tear all her clothes off, runnin'' m''hands over ev''ry inch''ve her toned, nekkid..." Cass stopped, realizing that I''d been staring at her. "What?"


    "You know how sometimes, you have a thought in your brain?" I tapped the side of my head several times. "Sometimes, you should just <em>leave it there</em>." Cass blinked a few times, and her face turned the same shade as her hair.


    "Did... did I say all that out loud then?"


    "Oh yes, yes you did, and we all heard it." Cass looked away, taking another swig of whiskey. "And I''ll be honest, I''ve never noticed all that. What I was going to say, was telling her that one piece of bad news made me feel like I''d just kicked a puppy. I don''t think either of us could''ve handled me telling her more."


    "Well. Yeah. That''s what I... I mean... yeah, that''s what I meant..."


    "Uh-huh."


    "It''s th'' same idea!" She said, trying to backpedal.


    "Sure it is."


    "Hey, YOU try an'' keep a level head when those perfect tits''ve hers are out an''-" I held up a hand to try and cut her off.


    "I think she''d kill me before I got that far. Or, at the very least, she''d kick me in the nuts so hard, they''d fly out my ears. Now..." I looked around, tossing aside the spent cigarette. I''d just realized that while we''d been walking... "Where the hell are we? I''m sure this isn''t the way back to The Strip..."


    "Shit man, I was followin'' <strong>you</strong>." Cass said, looking around.


    "Well, what''s this?" I heard a new voice from the shadows. "Looks to me like a couple of dumbass tourists stumbled into the wrong back alley. We''ve hit the jackpot tonight boys," the owner of the gravelly voice stepped out of the shadows, nked by two more. The trio of them were filthy, and they were all armed. The one in front was holding a revolver - a .357, probably - and the other two were carrying a crowbar and a switchde, respectively.


    I instinctively reached out with a hand in Cass'' direction to try and urge her behind me. I really did not need this right now. The three of them advanced on us, and started to fan out. It didn''t look like they were going topletely surround us... at least, not yet.


    "Fuck!" I heard Cass hiss through her teeth from behind me. "Of all th'' times t''leave my fuckin'' shotgun in m''room! Fuckin'' goddamn pissing sonuvabitch!"


    "Alright," the thug in front pointed the revolver square in the middle of my face. "This is how things are gonna work. You an'' the bitch are gonna give us everything you''ve got. And if I''m happy with the take? <em>Maybe</em> I won''t blow your brains out."


    "You know," I said, staring him down the length of the gun barrel. "Hate to burst your ego, tough guy, but this isn''t the first time I''ve had a gun pointed at me. Not even the first time today." He narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to scrutinize me, but he didn''t lower the gun.


    "Well, I guess that makes you one unlucky fuck then, doesn''t it?" I shook my head, never taking my eyes off him.


    "No. You''re the unlucky one.. because if you don''t take that gun out of my face, the three of you will be dead before you hit the ground. Leave now, and I''ll let you walk away. Fair warning." It didn''t look like he was expecting that. It seemed to stagger him a bit... but he still kept the gun pointed at me. I guess this is happening after all. I clenched my fists, shifting my stance slightly. The thug thumbed back the hammer on the revolver.


    "I''m gonna count to three," He growled. "There won''t be a four."


    "Thanks for the heads up."


    In one swift motion, I grabbed the hand that held the revolver, pushing it up and away from me, and positioned my other hand around his arm. I felt more than heard the pressure and the heat of the gun discharging just above my head. I twisted his arm in my grip, and it broke with a satisfying crunch; he didn''t even get a chance to scream in pain because by them my elbow had smashed him in the jaw. A tiny stter of blood from his jaw hit me in the face, and I''m sure I saw a tooth... or maybe that was just a trick of the light


    I felt some movement off to my side, so I grabbed him by the back of his head, and wheeled the two of us around. The thug with the crowbar brought it down hard - right into the lead thugs back. As he fell, I grabbed the crowbar, wrenching it out of his hands. I twisted it around, and reached out with the hooked end, catching him around his neck and pulling him down. My knee was there to greet his chest, and then I brought the other end of the crowbar up to smash him in the face. There was a crack, followed by a burst of blood; I snagged the bottom of his leg with the hook of the crowbar, flipping him head over heels.


    I spun in ce, grabbing the crowbar with both hands. Behind me, I saw the thug with the switchde advancing on me, but... I think the adrenaline was altering my perception of time. He was just moving so slowly. I didn''t wait for him to speed up - I swung the crowbar, smashing his outstretched arm that held the switchde, following it up right cross against his face. I pulled my hand back, grabbing him by the hair on the way - and smashed his face against the nearby wall as hard as I could. When I let go of his hair, the body slid against the brick wall, leaving a trail of crimson as he went.


    Once he was down, I wheeled around again, searching for another target - but there wasn''t one. It felt like time was speeding back up to normal, and I could hear a massive pounding in my ears... wait, no, that was just my heavy breathing. I dropped the crowbar at my feet with a dull metal ng. Eventually, Cass seemed to appear just within my field of view. She was looking at me with a mix of fear and wonder.


    "Are you... you alright?" I asked. My breathing still hadn''t calmed down. Cass just continued to stare at me, mouth wide open.


    "How th''... What th'' FUCK man? How''d you DO that?!" She looked astonished. I couldn''t see why. It was just a few thugs, what was the big deal?


    "What? What do you mean?" I asked, still breathing heavy. In fact, that wasn''t the only thing of mine that felt heavy... All of my limbs, for instance.


    "You just... how''d you <em>move</em> that fast? I mean, I was gettin'' ready t''jump em while you distracted them - but one second, they''re surroundin'' us, an'' th'' next second they''re all out fer th'' count! I''ve never seen anyone move that fast!"


    "Oh... well... uh..." That''s peculiar. Why am I dizzy all of a sudden? I kept breathing heavily. "I''m just... d you''re... alright... Oh dear." Was I toppling forward? Yep. This is definitely me falling. Mixed with everything else, this was not a pleasant feeling, hurtling toward the ground. But then, I felt hands that reached out and stopped me from face-nting. "Yeah, I''m... I''m done. Check please?"


    "C''mon, you..." Cass lifted me up, draping one of my arms around her shoulder. "Let''s get y''back home..."


    Next thing I knew, Cass was carrying me over the threshold into my room.


    "Y''still with me?" Cass said, shoving the door open with her shoulder. I nodded, muttering an acknowledgement. "Good, cuz I''m gettin'' tired''ve haulin'' yer heavy carcass aroun-WAUGH!"


    I''m not really sure what happened. It''s entirely possible that one - or both - of us tripped. There was plenty of clutter littering the floor, like the duster I''d tossed aside earlier, and I knew that Cass hadn''t turned on the light on the way in. But, looking back on it... well, no matter how it happened, the end result was the same: I tumbled forward, ending up on my bed and lying t on my back; Cass must have tumbled (or been dragged) down along with me. Her hat was missing, and she was sprawled out on top of me. I couldn''t tell if that was confusion or embarrassment on her face. Of course, that emotion soon gave way to something else...


    "Uh... hi." I couldn''t really think of anything else to say. I was still trying to make sense of how I wound up in this position with Cass straddling me, her arms on either side of my head and... wait, why was I holding onto her?


    "Hey." Cass breathed, looking me up and down... I felt her shift her weight on top of me, getting closer and wrapping her arms behind my head. I ran my fingers through her hair with one hand and sat up, reaching out with my other hand to pull her close. I felt her press herself into me, and her lips touched mine; I tasted whiskey and almost felt drunk from the sensation as she nibbled on my lower lip...


    This is wrong. I mean, it feels nice... it feels <em>great</em>, really, but think of the consequences man! I shouldn''t - <em>we </em>shouldn''t be doing this! No, wait - what are you doing? Don''t take her shirt off, you fool! Wait, where did <em>your</em> shirt go?! Abort! Abort! This will just end in disaster!


    "Cass, I- mmph!" I tried to pull myself away, but... wasn''t very sessful at first. "Cass, wait. Seriously, calm down for a minute..."


    "What - what''s wrong?" She breathed, keeping her face close to mine. I tried to push her away so I could have some modicum of focus, but she kept clutching at my back to try and pull me close again.


    "Cass, we... we can''t. We can''t do this." I seeded in pushing her away, so now she was at arms length - still sitting on top of me, though. And herck of shirt made things quite... distracting. "Cass, you are... <em>gorgeous</em>... and wonderful... and I... this is really hard to-"


    "Yeah, I can tell," Cass nced down quickly and smiled, biting her lower lip. Damnit, focus man!


    "Cass, I''m serious! I can''t let you... we can''t go through with this. Not again. I... I''m sorry," I shut my eyes, just so I could try and focus. "It''s not right. The consequences are just... Veronica is too good of a friend, and I can''t do that to her. And I''m sure that if you <em>really</em> think about it, you don''t want to do that to her either."


    Silence and darkness reigned between us as I kept my eyes shut. I felt her hand brush against my right shoulder, tracing the scar left by the Cosmic Knife from the other day. I slowly cracked open my eyes, and saw that she was slowly nodding her head.


    "Yeah... yer... y''right." She sighed and shook her head. "Fuckin'' hell... why can''t I jus..." She finally let go of me, and ran her hand through her hair. "Can''t I jus''... I dunno, have y''both?" That actually got a chuckle out of me.


    "I don''t think Veronica would go for that," I said, rubbing my eyes when I realized that I''d been staring at her chest. "Call it a hunch." I heard Cass sigh as she slid off me.


    "Yeah... yer probably right." I opened my eyes in time to see her framed by the light spilling in from the open door... and, despite my best effort, I couldn''t keep myself from staring as she bent over to pick up her shirt and hat that had been discarded on the floor. You may call me a hypocrite for looking, but trust me on this - <em>you</em> would look, too. Hell, I bet even <em>Arcade</em> would look!


    She has got quite a nice backside... As soon as she picked up her hat, she put it back on her head and looked over her shoulder at me with a smirk.


    "Fuckin'' right I do!" As if to punctuate the thought, she smacked her ass. Wait, hang on. Does that mean...


    "I said that out loud, didn''t I?" I asked. Cass chuckled.


    "Oh, yes, y''did, an'' we all heard it," She tossed her shirt over her shoulder and walked out of my room... giving her hips a seductive sway as she left. I buried my face in my hands, refusing to look, as tempting as it might be. I''m sure that if I kept looking, then not even my self control and knowledge of inevitable consequences could keep my libido in check.


    "Good night, Cass," I said, flopping backwards onto the bed. I saw the shadow she cast on the ceiling as she slowly closed the door.


    "Night, Shea. I''ll see y''in th'' mornin''." Click.


    I sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling. You know... despite everything, this had been a good day. Yes, it''s true that right now I was feeling a bit... <em>tense</em>. But I''d killed Elijah, escaped the poisonous hell of the Sierra Madre, got my car fixed, helped out an old Ranger, and now I was about to fall asleep in a bed that felt like it was the softest thing in the entire universe.


    Hell... maybe tomorrow would be even better? Yeah... today was good, but tomorrow is going to be even better. That was the thought on my mind as I slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

 Chapter 59: Rude Awakening

    Chapter 59: Rude Awakening


    <em>"You''re a moron," a voice cut through the darkness. A... familiar voice. Was that...</em>


    <em>"Benny?" I opened my eyes. I was lying on my back, in... actually, I had no idea where I was. Some kind of office? I looked around, and realized I was lying on some kind of leather couch, in a room full of wood paneled walls and books. Benny was sitting across from me in a red leather, high backed chair. Smoke hung in great rings around his head.</em>


    <em>"You expecting Dean Martin?" Benny chuckled. "How many times have we done this same scam? Like I said... you''re a moron."</em>


    <em>"Alright," I sat up, clutching my head. It felt like I''d been hit by a truck. Or a freight train. "Let''s hear it, then. Why am I a moron?"</em>


    <em>"Is this even a question?" Benny looked downright insulted, taking a long draw from his cigarette. " You''re a moron for letting that 18 karat, ring-a-ding broad out''ve yer dimmers, daddy-o." I blinked several times, trying to make sense of that convoluted mess of jargon.</em>


    <em>"Was that even English?" I asked. Benny just shook his head andughed, more smoke billowing out everywhere.</em>


    <em>"The foul-mouthed bird always knocking back shots of whiskey, dig?" Benny said, tapping his cigarette on the lip of a nearby ashtray. "I wasn''t expecting you to push her away like that. And just when the m-bake was getting good, too."</em>


    <em>"What, are you spying on me or something?" Benny took a draw from his cigarette and shrugged. I shook my head. "Until she squares things with Veronica, Cass is off limits to me, end of story. It just... it wouldn''t be right. It wouldn''t be fair." I balled my hands into fists... I had to focus on something else. Anger seemed like a pretty good option, given who was near me. Yeah, let''s go with that.</em>


    <em>"Oh, and you were doin'' a marvelous job being ''hands off,'' weren''t ya? Come on, you had her charlies out and everything! I mean, hello!" Benny leaned back in his chair andughed again. Damn. As much as I hated to admit it... the dead asshole sitting across from me had a point. </em>


    <em>"Yeah... well... I''m only human," I started wringing my hands. I refused to even look at him. The more I looked in his direction, the more I wanted to kill him again. Especially since he just keptughing.</em>


    <em>"Off limits... I can''t believe what I''m hearing. That wouldn''t have stopped you ten years ago, would it?" My head snapped back instantly to look at him. Was he talking about... How would he even </em>KNOW<em> about that? I coughed, and tried to shake it off.</em>


    <em>"A lot can happen in ten years. Maybe I''ve just finally figured out my actions have consequences." Benny didn''t look convinced. He just shook his head and sighed.</em>


    <em>"Yeah, I don''t believe that. Either way, you''re probably better off. She''s a bit of a harley quin, if you catch my meaning," Benny got up off the chair, and patted me on the shoulder; without really thinking, I got up as well. "As much as I''d love to sit here and do this all day and then tomorrow, I didn''te down just to have augh at you and your non-existent sex life. I came down here to deliver a message."</em>


    <em>"We did this gag already," I said, thinking back to thest time I''d had a chat with Benny. "And like I said before, I should be the one delivering the messages. I am The Courier, after all."</em>


    <em>"Yeah, I heard you finally got around to making that title your own. Took you long enough. How''s that working out for you?" I was about to respond, when I looked around and realized... we weren''t in that office anymore. We were definitely somewhere else - a hallway of some kind - but I couldn''t remember how we''d got here. We hadn''t walked anywhere... had we?</em>


    <em>"So what''s the message?" I asked. Benny smirked at me, and hit a button on the wall. A door seemed to appear, and slowly opened as he talked.</em>


    <em>"Congrattions." I looked down... and realized with horror that Cloud was spilling out of the open door! "You passed your first test."</em>


    <em>"Shut the door! Are you crazy?! This shit''s gonna kill us!" I yelled, grabbing Benny by the cor. He looked down, seemingly annoyed at me. Cloud was pooling around the floor, billowing out in great lumps... but somehow, the air wasn''t any harder to breathe.</em>


    <em>"Hands off the merchandise, you''ll wrinkle the suit," Benny shoved me off, and tried to fix his cor. "And this toxic crap can''t hurt you. Not anymore. Not the way it hurt </em>him<em>."</em>


    <em>"Hurt... who?" Benny motioned with his head toward the door when I asked... and I was met with a sight that made me stop cold, half in fear, and half in confusion.</em>


    <em>A skeleton was slowly walking out of the door through the mass of Cloud. It was wearing a tattered blue robe with a weird metal trim, and clinging defiantly to the skull was a matted mess of scraggly white hair and beard. Several of the skeleton''s teeth were missing, and arge section of the left side of the skull was cracked and broken. Arge, roughly square hole was torn into the torso of the robe, and a surprisingly untouched Pip Boy was loosely hanging off the left forearm bones. </em>


    <em>"I wonder if he''ll figure out how to pull himself together, like I did?" Benny seemed to wonder aloud. The skeleton limped through the Cloud and slowly turned to look at me with hollow, empty eye sockets; it was deeply unpleasant, let me tell you. Eventually, Benny shook his head. "Probably not. He could never ept that he wasn''t in control of everything when he was alive; there''s no chance he''ll ept it, now he''s dead. He really is the original loser, isn''t he?" The skeleton turned away from the two of us, walking back into the open door. As he moved, he seemed to take the Cloud along with him.</em>


    <em>"You... you said something about congrats?" I asked, trying to shake off what I''d just witnessed. Benny smiled, wrapping an arm around me, and leading me further down the hall. Which seemed odd, given that I couldn''t feel my legs moving...</em>


    <em>"Yeah... you passed your first real test, like I said."</em>


    <em>"Test?" I asked. "What do you mean, test?"</em>


    <em>"I told you about theing storms in ourst little shindig. You already weathered the first one. But more are on the way..." With that, the two of us turned a corner and into another hallway... except it wasn''t a hallway. The hallway had disappeared. We were suddenly standing in the middle of a desert. I saw mountains all around us, but... they didn''t look natural. It looked almost like... were we standing in the middle of a crater?</em>


    <em>"Where are we?" I asked. </em>


    <em>"A shadow of the Old World," Benny said, lighting another cigarette. He offered me one, but I waved him off, because I noticed something odd, far in the distance - it looked like a massive metal dome, illuminated by blue spotlights. And then, in other part of the crater, I saw a cluster of towers that almost looked like a skyline... until I saw something written in big bold letters written on the side of one of the hexagonal pirs.</em>


    <em>"Wait a minute... X-88? I''ve seen that before..." I recognized that... I recognized all of this... I wheeled around, trying to get another look at the dome, but it was gone. So was the crater. In it''s ce was arge, cavernous chamber; it sort of looked like an Old World military instation of some kind. The walls were lined with... oh no... were those warheads? I was in a room full of nukes! "Where... where are we now?"</em>


    <em>"The end of the world." Benny didn''t borate, and I didn''t get a chance to question, because a noise drew my attention to the far end of the chamber. Arge hole in the ceiling started to open up, light flooding in and onto a missile rising up out of the floor. But that wasn''t what caught my eye: standing on the lip of a circr tform ringing the missile was a man. He was standing with his back to me, underneath the suspended and tattered remnants of the American g. He was wearing a dark leather duster with no sleeves, and a symbol painted on the back: a blue circle ringed by twelve white stars, with arge star in the center, and five vertical red stripes falling off the circle, almost like w marks. He was holding arge staff in his hands that he was resting on his shoulder... at least, I thought it was a staff, until I saw the gold eagle sitting on the top. That''s not a staff - it''s a gpole.</em>


    <em>I turned to Benny to question what - or who - I was looking at, but he was gone. The world had shifted again without me realizing. It was night, with the inky ckness above my head marred by hundreds of tiny pinpricks. I was standing in some kind of desert, but not like any desert I''d ever seen. When I looked down, I saw that all the sand and dust and rocks were... white? No, not white... sort of grey...</em>


    <em>"Where the fuck are we now?" I asked, looking around to try and find any kind of identifyingndmarks; there were none... until I looked up. At first, when I saw the bright ball in the sky, I thought I was looking at the moon. But then my eyes went wide when I realized that sphere in the sky wasn''t bone white. It was covered in blue and green and swirls of yellowish-white clouds...</em>


    <em>That... No... no that wasn''t... this was impossible! A wave of nausea and vertigo washed over me, like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on my face. I felt dizzy, and just a little bit faint.</em>


    <em>I shut my eyes. This couldn''t be happening. This wasn''t real. This was just a dream. This was... I felt a hand on my shoulder. I cracked open my eyes to find Benny smiling at me; we were back in the same office as before.</em>


    <em>"As fun as this has been," Benny said, snuffing his cigarettepletely. "It''s time for the bad news."</em>


    <em>"You''re a walking pile of bad news, Benny," I did my best to calm down my breathing and get myself back to normal. "How''s that different from normal?"</em>


    <em>"Because this is bad news you can actually do something about," He shrugged. "Just like every bit of bad news I tell you..."</em>


    <em>"Alright, let''s get it over with," I said, tired of the mindgames.</em>


    <em>"I''ve been watching you a lot, Courier. And you know what I''ve noticed? You''ve got a problem. A big one."</em>


    <em>"Yeah, like the fact that I''m having an extended conversation with a guy I beat to death with my bare hands," I said. Maybe being snarky would help channel my anger more, so I stuck with that. Benny just rolled his eyes.</em>


    <em>"Shut up and listen for a minute, I''m being serious. Something I''ve noticed about you, Fisher, is a real bad habit of yours. Whenever you''re presented with a really important job, you''ll put it off. You''ll put it off, and put it off, and just keep putting it off until you''re left with no choice but to face it. And it hasn''t just been here in the Mojave, either. You did the same thing with Tu-"</em>


    <em>"Don''t you </em><em><strong>DARE</strong></em><em> even bring her into this!" I shouted, cutting him off. "I don''t even know how you''d know about her, but don''t you dare - don''t even say her </em><em><strong>name</strong></em><em>!"</em>


    <em>"I''m just trying to make a point," Benny said, staring me down, obviously unfazed. "You''ve be a lot stronger since getting hold of that tinum Chip, and you may be even stronger still. You may be able to weather any number of shitstorms that get thrown in your way to stop you. Hell, you might even be able to pull it off. What was it you said to Christine? Pulling off the impossible is what you do?" Benny chuckled, and shook his head. "But if you keep putting off the important things like you''ve always done, then you''ll never be in control of your own life. You''ll just be another bunter, like all the other crumbs in Vegas who think that all they need to fix their luck is just one more pull of the one-armed bandit. Those losers never figure out that the game is rigged from the start, like I told you during our first, rather unfortunate, meeting. The only way to win in Vegas..."</em>


    <em>"...is to rig the game for yourself," I said, finishing his sentence. Benny just smiled and nodded, obviously pleased with himself that I''d finally seemed to get the point. But that wasn''t enough for me. There were still too many questions that remained unanswered. And the first...</em>


    <em>"What </em><em><strong>are</strong></em><em> you?" I asked as forcefully as I could. Benny stepped back, confused.</em>


    <em>"What?"</em>


    <em>"I know I''m dreaming. None of... nothing here is real, and I know that. And the first time this happened, I thought it was just my subconscious, putting a face to my stress. I mean... hell, why else would you turn into me? I didn''t think anything of it at the time... But this keeps happening, and the more it does, the more I realize - you </em><em><strong>know</strong></em><em> things that I don''t. That I couldn''t possibly... You showed me the Cloud before I''d ever even heard of the Sierra Madre. Before I ever knew what it was. You''re trying to show me things that are going to... It''s like dj-vu, I won''t make the connection until it''s already happening. But the only way that would make sense is...Are</em><em>you </em><em><strong>really</strong></em><em> Benny? His ghost,e back to haunt my dreams?" During this whole rant, Benny merely listened, taking another cigarette out and lighting it as I talked.</em>


    <em>"I didn''t think you believed in ghosts." Benny said simply.</em>


    <em>"Enough weird shit has gone downtely, I''m open to the possibility." This was wearing thin - I </em>knew<em> I was asleep, and I STILL felt tired...</em>


    <em>"You know what else it could be?" He blew a smoke ring that seemed to hover in the air over my head. "It could be a side-effect of contact with The Forecaster."</em>


    <em>"Who?"</em>


    <em>"The psychic kid at the 188. The one who gave you that puzzle-box, sitting on your car''s dashboard." I could feel my eye twitch at the news. I hadn''t even thought of that.</em>


    <em>"So which is it?" I moved, trying to get away from the smoke ring; it seemed to follow me wherever I went. Benny chuckled to himself, and shook his head.</em>


    <em>"Nah... I''m not gonna tell ya. It would ruin all the fun of watching you guess like this! Besides... you''ve got bigger problems than </em>me<em> to worry about right now." Before I got a chance to question further, he pointed with his cigarette behind and above me. I wheeled around, and was face to face with a Securitron. Wait, was that -</em>


    <em>"Victor?" The cowboy face on the screen made him unmistakable. "What are you- MMPH!" A metal w reached out and wrapped itself around my face. I couldn''t see anything, I couldn''t hear anything... and everything went ck.</em>


    My eyes snapped open, and I woke with a start. Where am I this time? Okay, I''m in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Yep, I was right. All that was a dream. That''s good.


    So... why was there still a glow like a TV screen lighting up the room?


    "Victor?" I said, sitting up; at the foot of the bed was a Securitron, with Victor''s unmistakable face staring back at me. I was getting a nasty sense of dj-vu. "What are you -MMPH!" A metal w reached out and wrapped itself around my face. Except this time, I could see what was going on. Victor was holding onto me, one w wrapped over the top of my head, and the other two wrapped around my neck. I feebly clutched at the metal ws wrapped around me as Victor lifted me off the bed and into the air. He continued to look at me with that same, smiling face, his face-screen unchanged except for the asional burst of static. My legs iled, dangling uselessly below me as Victor held me high above my bed.


    "Boss wants to see you," Victor said in his distinctive western drawl... and then my world spun. The next thing I knew, I was being thrown through the air, and I hit the door with a sharp crack. I couldn''t tell if that was my spine or the door. This was turning into a distinctly bad situation. I tried to scramble to my feet, try and get some weapons on the nearby desk, but Victor rolled toward me and grabbed me by the arm, and shoved open the door, dragging me out into the hall.


    "What the hell! If he wanted to - augh!" Victor tossed me against the far wall of the hallway.


    "Shut up," He said. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open soundlessly. "Get in," he pointed with a metal w into the elevator. I heard noises behind him; on the far ends of the hall, I saw Veronica, Cass, and Boone, all getting out of their rooms, obviously wondering what all themotion was. I stood up, and tried to motion for them to stay back. Unsurprisingly, only Boone was armed.


    "Alright, alright, fine..." I said, looking up at Victor. The expression of the cartoon cowboy remained motionless as the giant hunk of metal loomed over me. "I''ll go see the boss. You could''ve just asked nice."


    "Shea, what''s going-" Cass started to say, but I didn''t hear the rest. Victor pushed me into the elevator, and the door shut behind me.


    "Do you take me for a fool, Mr. Fisher?" House boomed when I was shoved into the center of his office. I don''t know why, but for some reason the massive monitor with House''s digital face stered over it seemedrger and altogether more imposing than usual... and that was saying something.


    "I''m not taking you for anything. I was asleep!" I said, trying topose myself. This was turning into an incredibly bad situation very fast. I was surrounded by at least five Securitrons - that I could see - all armed to the teeth; Here I was, standing in the middle of this room with only a pair of jeans, and without any weapons of any kind. I wasn''t even wearing any shoes.


    The whole situation left me feeling incredibly naked.


    "I hired you to do a job, Mr. Fisher. I have paid you a considerable sum in bottlecaps, and allowed you ess to considerable resources to ensure that the task would bepleted - such as providing you and the... <em>''people''</em> you seem to collect, lodgings in the form of thergest, most expensive, and most luxurious suite in the hotel: the suite designed to amodate the President of the United States and his support staff. And you have not followed through on our agreement."


    "What... what are you talking about?" I asked, rubbing my face. I knew <em>exactly</em> what he was talking about; I was just ying up being half-asleep, trying to stall for time. This was not good. This was definitely not good.


    "On October the 28th," House said, annoyance heavily evident in his voice. "I instructed you to make contact with the Boomers living among the ruins of Nellis Air Force Base, to secure an alliance - or, failing that, cripple their ability to lend aid in support of the NCR or Caesar''s Legion. And this was your response."


    Surprisingly, House''s face winked out of view, and for a second, it was reced with arge "COMMUNICATING..." stered across the screen. The screen shed again, and was reced with... myself? Hang on, this was... this looked like a recording of me, looking up at House from thest time I was here.


    "Ok, House," The me on the screen said, nodding and giving a thumbs up. "Whatever you say. I''ll get right on that." And then the me on the screen turned and walked away, back up the stairs to the elevator. The screen shed, and switched back to House''s massive immobile face.


    "I have given you over a week to make any kind of progress," House said. Even though the face I was looking at waspletely frozen in a self-satisfied smirk, I could practically <em>hear</em> the scowl in his voice. "I am not ustomed to the people in my employ ignoring me. My patience is not infinite, Mr. Fisher, and you have been trying it immensely."


    "Uh... Listen, House... I think you have the wrong idea about all this," I said, trying not to look guilty. "I haven''t been blowing you off." Yes I have. "I''ve just been trying to figure out a way to get in without <em>dying</em>. Hell, you told me that thest Securitron you sent that way exploded, right? Figuring out something like that is going to take some time..."


    "Oh, really? And yet, based on the evidence I''ve collected... you haven''t even <em>attempted</em>." My blood ran cold.


    "Evidence?" I asked quietly.


    The screen switched. This video feed was different from before - this didn''t seem to have any audio, and the video looked like it was from a crappy, grainy, ck and white CCTV feed. Based on the viewpoint, this was from a camera that must have been mounted somewhere in Freeside, because it showed the outside of The King''s ce - and then my car pulled up just outside it. The image on the monitor shifted, and I was presented with another scene: a familiar back alley, and after the screen crackled and popped with static, I realized that I was watching Orris getting blown in half. Another burst of static, and the viewpoint changed again: this time, the CCTV was tracking my car as I drove it through a hail of gunfire in Freeside,ing to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke just outside the abandoned train station the NCR troopers were using as a bunker.


    "So far, you have given aid to that group of thugs calling themselves ''The Kings''..."


    The image on the view screen switched again, but this didn''t look like CCTV footage. It was much clearer (but still in ck and white) and I could see various pieces of tactical data ringing the edge of the image... was this footage taken by a Securitron? The image was of the front gate of Jacobstown, the Super Mutant refuge, obviously taken from somewhere deep in the forest, based on the heavy level of foliage. From the edge of the screen, I saw myself walking up to the gate - and then the Super Mutants dressed up as bushes got up and pointed guns at me. The screen popped with static, and the point of view switched to muchter - when I got rid of the mercenaries. I saw myself talk with the four men inbat armor, and then I watched as they went back into the forest to fetch their motorcycles and drive off.


    "... you found the time to aid the Super Mutants taking refuge in the remnants of the Mount Charleston Lodge..."


    The view on the screen switched to another Securitron, but this wasn''t near Jacobstown: this was down near Highway 93, just outside Novac. I knew this, because I was seeing (from a distance, mind you) the firefight between the Legion assassins who tried ambushing me when I went to get Rey from Old Lady Gibson. If this was being yed at regr speed... that fight went by much faster than I remembered it. The monitor was filled with static, and switched back to the point of view of another crappy CCTV in Freeside. This one was pointed at the Silver Rush, and even despite the low light and the static filling the image, I could see myself, Cass, and Boone, all dressed in thebat armor with the trench coats kicking open the front doors and shooting up the ce. There was a burst of static, but the screen still showed the front of the Silver Rush... which promptly started exploding in a mass of fire and shrapnel. There was a ck mass of shrapnel thrown through the air at the image, which disappeared in a flurry of static. When the image came back, it was no longer CCTV footage - this was from another Securitron (or maybe the same one as before?) looking at the entrance of the Crimson Caravan camp, just outside the Vegas wall. I saw Cass and myself running out of the camp, a pall of smoke trying to slowly follow us.


    "... you managed to embroil yourself in a number ofpletely preventable firefights - as well as destroying part of Freemont Street, drawing unnecessary attention to yourself..."


    The screen switched yet again. This would be making my head spin, if it wasn''t just making me incredibly ufortable. I figured that House would be spying on me inside the 38, but this was showing me that his reach was much, much greater than I expected. This time the screen - another Securitron, with tactical data being ryed in a constant stream - moved from Super Mutant corpse to Super Mutant corpse.. and then the screen panned up, and off in the distance I could see evidence of a firefight, further up what was now unmistakable as ck Mountain.


    "...you went to ck Mountain, and murdered your way to the satellite array at the peak of the mountain..."


    The monitor was filled with a burst of static once more, and the image was from another Securitron. Like the one on ck Mountain, this was surveying carnage and scanning corpses, but instead of Super Mutants, it was looking at cazadores. The screen crackled and popped, and I saw my car parked off in the distance; the image zoomed, and I saw myself and Veronica disappear into a hatch in the ground, ED-E bobbing in the air over my car. Another burst of static, and I saw myself and Boone, both in armor, and - wait a minute! Son of a bitch, I <em>KNEW</em> I was being watched!


    "...and finally, after losing your signal for close to 40 hours, you found the time to visit an NCR forward operations base, three Ranger outposts, and the base the NCR have built on top of my golf resort." I looked away from the screen, and realized that the four Securitrons surrounding me were much closer than they were a few minutes ago... and I had no idea where Victor was. This was getting worse by the minute. I looked back at the screen, and saw House''s face looking down at me again. "You have done all of this dithering about, and yet the one thing I <em>asked</em> of you has continued to go undone. So I will <em>ask</em> you again, Mr. Fisher: <em>Do you take me for a fool?</em>"


    "Alright!" I shouted up at the screen, putting my hands up (like that would stop the Securitrons if they tried to shoot me) and trying not to look nervous. I felt like I was back in the Sierra Madre, with a bomb cor around my neck... "I admit it, I''ve been putting off going to the Boomers. But that''s just because thest time you sent me on one of these missions, I got beaten half to death and spent two days afterward in the hospital! Everything you''ve said about these people is that they blow up anything that gets close to Nellis, and if I''m honest? Getting my ass exploded is really not my idea of a good time! I''m quite partial to my ass, House."


    "I don''t care," House said. "Let me exin it in a way I know you will understand: <em>money</em>. I''ve paid you to do a job. You have not done this job. If you continue wasting my time, then I shall discard you, and find someone else who will <em>follow my orders</em>." I felt my eye twitch.


    "But... hang on, what about... what about the tinum Chip?" I asked. House was silent for a long while. I couldn''t tell if that was good or bad... and then he spoke up, and I realized just <em>how bad</em> it was...


    "Do you think yourself special, Mr. Fisher?" House asked. He didn''t wait for a response. "Do you think that the tinum Chip <em>makes</em> you special? The Chip may be in your possession at the moment, but it is - and always will be - <em>mine</em>, to do with as I please. You are not special. You are nothing more than a mailman, who has found himself dropped into extraordinary circumstancespletely beyond his understanding orprehension. You are no more special or unique than Benny - and if you continue to disobey me, you will be rendered just as <em>relevant</em>." House paused for a moment, apparently to let that sink in, and then he followed up with onest verbal right-hook: "I want you to always keep in your mind, Mr. Fisher: <em>you can be reced</em>."


    The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the suite. Unceremoniously, Victor - who had been holding onto me this whole time - threw me out with such force that I face-nted square in the middle of the hall.


    "Sheason!" I heard Cass'' voice from above me. Several pairs of hands reached out to pick me up off the floor. "Y''alright?" Cass was probably the closest of anyone, and she wrapped my arm around her shoulder; it reminded me of how she had carried me homest night.


    "Remember, pardner," Victor said, pointing a w at me. Everyone in the hall turned to look at him. The cartoony cowboy face remained static - except when it was interrupted by <em>bursts</em> of static. "You''ve got twenty-four hours to follow the boss'' orders. You best git goin''... otherwise, we''re gonna have us a problem." Without a sound, the elevator doors shut.


    "Sheason... What was that about?" Veronica looked at me with a concerned expression on her face. I looked around, and saw Veronica, Boone, Raul, and ED-E all hovering near me in the hallway; Cass was holding onto my right side, and Arcade was holding on to my left. I tried to shake the two of them off, and get back on my feet.


    "Uh..." I did my best to not look sheepish. I''m pretty sure I failed. "Well... got some bad news, kids..."

 Chapter 60: Things That Go Boom

    Chapter 60: Things That Go Boom


    <em>You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, your little jukebox in the Mojave Wastnd. I''m Mr. New Vegas and it''s time for some news. Troubling news out of Sloan today. Thest of the quarrymen under contract with the NCR have been forced to evacuate, as the number of Deathw attacks out of Quarry Junction has made habitation there unsustainable. Sounds like that stretch of the Long 15 is going to stay closed unless the Deathws can be dealt with. Any takers?</em>


    I was standing on the roof of my car, looking through a pair of binocrs, when I heard a voice from below me.


    "So," Veronica said, looking up at me. "When I asked you the other day what House wanted after your meeting with him..."


    "Yep," I said, already knowing what wasing.


    "And you said it was nothing to get worried about..."


    "Uh-huh."


    "You were basically just lying through your teeth, weren''t you?"


    "Pretty much, yes." I said, pulling the binocrs away from my face and hopping off my car''s roof. Veronica looked like she was sizing me up.


    "Can I ask why?"


    "Because I wasn''t looking forward to what I''m now being forced to do." I said simply, tossing the binocrs back in the car. I looked east and sighed; the sun was up, but just barely. After all the threats from House, I figured I should get going at first light...


    I''d parked my car right behind a ridge about two miles down Las Vegas Boulevard - the part of the road beyond the Vegas wall, at least. ording to the map on my Pip Boy, Las Vegas Boulevard was a straight shot from Vegas to Nellis. But what it hadn''t shown me was that beyond where I was parked... there was simply no road. The pavement looked like it had been buckled upwards because of an explosion of some kind, producing a massive crater and the ridge my car was parked behind.


    What really scared me was what I''d seen through the binocrs over the ridge. ording to the Pip Boy''s map, I was roughly a mile and a half away from the Nellis front gate. Between me and it was the most devastated, heavily bombed out ruins I''ve ever seen. There was not a single free standing structure as far as I could see. It was nothing but dirt and craters and the broken shells and miserable frameworks of buildings that had been blown back to the stone age. Not only that, but I saw lots of signs mounted all along the perimeter right before the bombed out ruins. Stuff like "BOOMER TERRITORY! KEEP OUT!" and "NO TRESPASSING! JUST LEAVE!" and I think I also saw a modified explosives warning sign with several words painted over to spell out this message: "DANGER! DO NOT ENTER! ANY MILITARY MAY KILL YOU!"


    "So," Raul spoke up, leaning against his motorcycle. "What''s the n, Boss?"


    I didn''t answer right away. Mostly because I didn''t <em>have</em> a n, as such. I mean, running was absolutely out of the question. It was a mile and a half at least, and there''s no way I''d make it ten feet before the artillery fire from those howitzers turned me into chunky salsa. There had to be some way past those howitzers...


    "Boone," I looked around, trying to find him; he was peering over the ridge, dressed in his Desert Ranger armor - helmet and all - with the Gobi sniper rifle at the ready. His attention snapped to me when I called out his name. "Have you ever had any experience with artillery used by the NCR? Anything you might be able to tell us?"


    "Served with the 22nd Field Artillery a few years ago. 1st Recon was tasked with scouting forward positions, and spotting for the artillery. The guns were mostly towed howitzers, firing one-oh-five shells. Pretty effective against stationary targets, but..." Boone trailed off, looking over the ridge once again.


    "But?" I asked, motioning for him to continue.


    "A couple times, the raiders we were fighting brought in some fast movers. Skirmishers. Dune buggies, motorcycles... vehicles that were light, fast, and agile. Even the experienced crews had a difficult time zeroing the targets."


    "So? Cass asked. She was sitting on the hood of my car, checking her shotgun; like Boone, she was decked out in thebat armor she''d picked up from the gun runners, and she''d brought the AA-12. "How''s that gonna help us?"


    "Artillery generally has a noticeable dy of several seconds, as the shells arc through the air to the point of impact," Arcade spoke up unexpectedly. Every one of us turned to look at him. "The crews manning the guns have to predict where the target is going to be when they fire." He paused, realizing we were all staring at him. "What?"


    "Now, how would a doctor like you know something like that?" Veronica asked. Arcade shrugged.


    "I... uh... I found a book about the Ardennes Counteroffensive a few years ago," he said, straightening his sses. "It was written by an artillerymander, and went into great detail about how those Old World military units worked. Write what you know, I guess."


    "Are-den... what?" Cass hopped off my car, shouldering her shotgun. "What''re y''talking about?


    I wasn''t really listening to that back and forth. I was staring at my car, a n starting to formte in my head... It was a crazy, stupid, <em>insane</em> sort of n, but at the moment it was the best thing I had... Hell, it was a stupid enough n, it might work just <em>because</em> of how crazy it was. It''ll be thest thing they''d expect. I just needed to figure out a way to...


    "You said the crews manning the artillery need to lead their targets, right? And the more unpredictable we are, the harder it would be for them to hit us, yes?" I asked. Both Arcade and Boone nodded. I smiled, and popped open the trunk. "Hey, ED-E? C''mon down here, buddy, I''m gonna need your help with something." The robot floated down, beeping curiously at me.


    "So you have a n then." Veronica said, rather than asked. I nodded, pulling the bag of stealth boys out of my trunk.


    "As it happens, yes I do. Do you think you can help me wire one of these stealth boys into ED-E?" ED-E let out a trio of worried sounding beeps. I popped open a side panel on ED-E''s chassis, revealing a mess ofplicated circuitry and wires.


    "Wh- what are you nning, man?" Arcade asked, hovering over my shoulder to look at ED-E''s innards.


    "Funny you should ask, Arcade. Do you remember Cottonwood Cove?" I asked, smirking at him.


    "Well, yeah, of course. But..." Arcade''s eyes went wide, and I''m sure I saw the left one twitch. "Oh no. No, you can''t be serious!"


    "Ladies and men-folk, this is your Captain speaking. Wee aboard flight 616 with non-stop service to Nellis Air Force Base. I suggest that everyone keeps their arms and legs inside the cabin while the vehicle is in motion, as we''re expected to run into some slight turbulence and then... explode."


    "Quit screwin'' around," Cass socked me in the arm before I got a chance to go much further. "Are we goin'' or not?" I think this was the first time I''d actually seen her wear her seatbelt.


    "I''m just waiting for ED-E to signal that he''s in position." I said, ncing down at my Pip Boy. That stealth boy we''d wired into his power supply would make him invisible, andst as long as he kept running. If all went to n, then ED-E would fly above Nellis, find the howitzer battery, and signal to my Pip Boy whenever they fired, giving me a chance to dodge. Hopefully that, mixed with the speed of my Corvega, would give me the edge to avoid getting us blown to fuck.


    "So, tell me again what Raul is doing?" Veronica asked.


    "He''s scouting the perimeter on his hog. He''s going to see if there''s an easier way in, just in case things get too hairy and we need to turn back." I honestly didn''t expect him to find an easier way in. If the Boomers were this thorough bombing the road to the front gate, they weren''t going to leave any weak points in the perimeter. The main reason he wasn''t with us was simply because my car couldn''t take six. I just hoped he''s be smart enough to keep his distance...


    "I''d like to register my opinion that this is the dumbest idea in the history of dumb ideas," Arcade piped up from his spot in the back seat, squished between Veronica and Boone.


    "What, you don''t think this is gonna work?" I asked, looking at him over my shoulder.


    "I think we''re all gonna die!" Arcade yelled, his face ovee with worry.


    "Well, thank you, Arcade. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming." I sighed, and went back to looking at my Pip Boy, waiting for ED-E to signal.


    "Shea''s been doin'' the ''lone wolf'' routine too oft''ntely," Cass said, pulling tighter on her seatbelt. "We all go in as a team, r''not at all." I cast a nce over to her, and her expression was... it was that same look that I''m sure was on my face whenever I was trying to ry confidence I didn''t feel. Kind of like now, really.


    Honestly, I was of two minds about having all of them in the car with me. My original n was to go in alone: if I fucked up, at least it would''ve only been me eating it. But then Cass insisted shee with... then Veronica, and Boone... It was a nice feeling, having support like that. I just had to make sure I didn''t get us all killed.


    Nothing like a little pressure.


    "I still don''t see why I have to ride bitch, shoved between muscles and sunsses here..." Arcade muttered.


    "Hey!" Veronica seemed insulted.


    "You''re riding bitch because you keepining. Trust me, this is gonna work. We''ll be fine," I said. At that moment, my Pip Boy''s speaker sounded off with a trio of beeps - followed by ED-E''s triumphant marching music. That sounded like the signal to me. "Alright, everybody strap in, this ride''s gonna get rough." I revved the engine, putting her in gear...


    "Hi-ho, Silver..."


    The tires squealed against the ancient tarmac, desperate to find traction; when it finally found some, the car shot forward andunched us up and over the ridge onto the bombed out ruins. Almost immediately, the car lurched and shook, bouncing over the rough terrain. I shifted up, and tried to find some smoother ground. Didn''t really get a chance, since at that very moment ED-E''s warning of impending artillery fire red over my Pip Boy.


    I wrenched the wheel right, but kept my foot nted to the floor. At first, all I could hear was the roar of my car''s engine, but it was drowned out by a steadily growing whine - and then the whole world turned into nothing but noise. An explosion ripped apart the ground 30 or 40 yards to my left . The whole car shook and was buffeted by the shockwave, sliding across the rough ground.


    The next few minutes of trying to cross that pock-marked and broken artillery range of hell were... just a little bit fuzzy. The main thing I remember was the noise - from the sound of the iing artillery, to the explosions when they hit, not to mention the engine and the sounds of almost everyone in the car yelling and screaming obscenities... I was too focused on the driving and not getting blown up to swear. Every time ED-E signaled, I''d swerve in an unexpected direction, and secondster another explosion would rip apart the ground where I would have been driving.


    I don''t know how long it took to cross that field of death, but eventually the front gate of Nellis came in view. ED-E sounded off on my Pip Boy - only a few seconds after I''d barely managed to dodge thest one. I was in for a bit of a shock when I turned the wheel and the ground directly in front of me erupted in fire. The whole earth seemed to heave upwards, and it took all my strength not to let go of the wheel, it was shaking so much. And speaking of that: the steering wheel was on full lock, and I already had the car in top gear. There was no way I could swerve out of the way of this one. So I did the only thing I could think of: barrel on straight through.


    "No... No! No!" I barely made out Cass'' voice through the noise; she was clutching the rollcage strut above her seat with white-knuckle intensity. Stones and pieces of ground were striking my car like they''d been fired from a shotgun.


    "Yes! Yes!" I yelled, nting my foot against the floor and trying to keep my eyes open, despite the heat. The mes from the explosion curled away into a mass of ck smoke and ash... just as the car hit the edge of the new crater and lifted off. The tires went light as the car sailed through the air, hot smoke and ash surrounding and filling the car. I couldn''t see, I couldn''t breathe, flecks of hot ash peppered both me and the car... but on the plus side, it wasn''t as bad as Red Cloud.


    The whole car shuddered and shook, crashing down on the other side as we burst out of the hot cloud and into the fresh air again. The car bounced up and down, hitting a pothole (or a small crater) a second time, and when I finally could see again, I -


    Oh, SON OF A <strong>BITCH!</strong>


    "BRACE!" I yelled, trying to follow my own advice, bracing myself for the inevitable impact. Miles and miles of brokenndscape that had been ttened by artillery, and I just <em>had</em> to be heading straight for thest freestanding wall between us and the front gate. A shock ran up my whole body, and there was a crash of splintering wood. The wall shattered, showering the car with pieces of wood, metal, and ss. It felt like I''d run headlong into a tree. I wasn''t sure, but I think I may have heard the ss on the windshield crack again.


    I felt a shudder rock the left side of the car - either I''d hit something thatunched me in the air, or I''d just had a blowout. I tried to keep my foot on the gas and steer into the skid, but the car wasn''t responding. The whole back end of the car started to overtake the front, and my world started to spin.


    Yep. I''m now out of control.


    A giant cloud was billowing around the car - I couldn''t tell if it was dust being kicked up by the tires, smoke from the tires being eaten by tarmac, or smoke from the engine. Any one of those wouldn''t have surprised me. The car spun several more times, and after the third spin there was a sound of metal against metal - we must have smashed through the chain link fence of the front gate. The car spun one final time... and then I heard everything creak and the car seemed to tip, leaning over on the two left wheels.


    "Lean over! LEAN OVER!" I yelled, trying to shove all my weight onto the side. I grabbed at one of the rollcage struts running along the ceiling, and tried to pull myself onto the right side of the car. I had no idea if anyone else was doing the same. It felt like my Corvega was leaning on two wheels for years... until finally the car shuddered and fell,ing to rest back on all four wheels again. For some reason the main thing I noticed about the caring to rest was the multicolored puzzle box that I''d kept on the dashboard falling in ce right in front of me.


    "Is everyone alright? Anyone hurt?" I turned in my seat and shouted, trying to see through the smoke. It was still too thick to make out anything more than vague silhouettes - even my friends so close to me in the backseat.


    "No casualties," Boone growled from somewhere in the smoke. I heard other voices, more coughing - or, in Cass'' case, coughing out a string of profanity. There was definitely something other than dust or tire smoke in this cloud, but I couldn''t tell if the burning in my throat was from the engine or from the explosion we had driven through. I didn''t have too long to feel relief that the cloud was thinning out, because I heard another voice from outside the smoke and haze.


    "Out of the car!" A man''s voice sounded off, all authoritative and military. "Right now! Hands in the air!" Well, that didn''t take long. Then again, after that artillery barrage, and us busting through their front door like that...


    "Don''t shoot!" I said, getting out of the car with my hands raised. "We didn''te here to attack! We just want to talk!" There was a worrying hissing noiseing from the back of my car, around where the engine was, but I couldn''t focus on that; the smoke had cleared enough that I could see just how surrounded I was.


    There must have been close to 20 of them. I didn''t really stop to count, exactly, but there were a lot of them, and they were all armed. Assault rifles, grenadeunchers, at least one minigun, and two shoulder mounted missileunchers were all pointed directly at me. There wasn''t really any kind of uniform among them except for two details: they were all wearing what used to be Vault jumpsuits, and they all had Pip Boys. Every one of them looked different; military patches, ribbons, and various other military paraphernalia were stitched onto their jumpsuits, and a few of them wore leather jackets - also covered in patches and ribbons. Some of them wore helmets, some wore peaked military caps, and maybe half of them wore goggles.


    "Move a muscle now, and I''ll blow you to pieces," One of the Boomers holding a rocketuncher was speaking. Was it the one who told me to get out of the car? I couldn''t tell. I did what he said and kept still. "How the hell did you survive that bombardment? Nobody is that fast!"


    "Look, I''m sorry for breaking down your front door like I did, but I didn''te here for a fight. I just..." I didn''t get a chance to finish, because another voice rang out, louder than any of the others: a female voice.


    "STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, STAND DOWN!" Almost immediately, the weapons around me were lowered. I''d been so focused on the guns pointed at me, I hadn''t noticed the sound of a car approaching. It looked like an old army green Willys Jeep. A woman wearing fullbat armor was standing on the back, holding onto the bar behind the driver.


    The Jeep came to a halt behind the line of armed Boomers. The woman jumped off, and approached me. When she got closer, I could see that underneath the olive-drabbat armor, she was wearing a Vault jumpsuit and a Pip Boy, just like the others. However, unlike the others, her armor didn''t look decorated; it looked scratched and worn, every mark telling the story of a hundred battles fought and won. Her ck hair was tied back in a bun, and she would have been rather attractive, if it wasn''t for the stern look on her features... and the fact that arge chunk of the left side of her face was heavily scarred by burns. Nearly the entirety of her left eye was obscured by what looked like a melted piece of flesh.


    "I''ll take this from here. Disperse, all of you," the woman wearing thebat armor said to the Boomers. All of them either nodded or saluted her, and then they started wandering off. She turned back to me. "My name is Raquel, Master-At-Arms for the Nellis Homnd. Mother Pearl, our Eldest, wishes to speak with you." She looked me up and down with her one good eye. "You can put your hands down now."


    "Uh... alright?" I looked around, and saw that all my friends had gotten out of my car as well and were forming up behind me. "Is this Mother Pearl the reason you told the others to stand down?" She nodded curtly.


    "Mother Pearl is our Eldest. She has lived at Nellis from the start, and has the wisdom of her age. She said this day woulde, and that any savage to reach our gates should be brought to her."


    "<em>Savage</em>?" Cass chimed in. "Who''re you callin'' a savage, bi-" I cut her off before she got much further.


    "Does that mean she wants to see all of us, or just me?" I asked. She looked back at me, annoyed.


    "I did say <em>any</em> savage. Or did you go deaf from all the artillery?" Was... was that a joke? Either way, I smirked. I thought it was pretty funny.


    "Fair point. So, I suppose you''ll be wanting us to hand over our guns before meeting your Elder?" I asked. She narrowed her good eye at me, and looked confused - almost like she didn''t understand the question.


    "Certainly not. Individual armament is the cornerstone of personal responsibility on the Homnd."


    "All right," I said, trying not tough. This day was just getting weirder by the minute. "Lead the way." She nodded and turned on her heels.


    "Follow close - and mind your behavior."


    Raquel led the pack of us to arge building on the far side of the air strip, and up a set of stairs to the control tower. As soon as the five of us entered, we were greeted by an incredible panoramic view of the entire air base - and also, a bit more literally, we were greeted by an old woman with white hair tied back in a ponytail. Like the other Boomers, she was wearing a Vault Jumpsuit decorated with military badges and ribbons, and she had a Pip Boy on her wrist.


    "Well, wee to you, children!" She offered us some of the chairs scattered around the control tower. Strapped to her back was a 40mm grenadeuncher, and when she turned to look at us I saw a ne of spent rifle casings hanging around her neck. She smiled widely at all of us. "Took your sweet time getting here, didn''t you? I''ve been waiting a good five years for an outsider toe along and visit! My name is Mother Pearl. Tea?"


    "Didn''t exactly roll out the red carpet..." I heard Arcade mutter in my ear from behind me.


    "You were expecting me?" I asked. She nodded, pouring out several cups of tea into a set of mismatched and chipped teacups and coffee mugs.


    "What, like a prophecy r''somethin''?" Cass asked, epting the first cup of tea. Pearl just chuckled softly to herself.


    "Prophecy? Hah! Do we look like a bunch of religious idiots? I just hoped a sava-" she coughed, and looked a bit nervous. "Er, outsider, sorry. I hoped <em>someone</em> would make it to our gates before one of those armies out there came knocking. I must say, I didn''t expect five of you. The more the merrier, though."


    "So, you''re not as isted as everyone seems to think?" I asked, taking a gamble. She nodded at me, handing me a chipped coffee mug; I looked at the side, which read "My Son is in the US Air Force." I took a sip... and was pleasantly surprised. It was actually quite vorful, but I couldn''t really ce it. I wasn''t expecting that. Then again, I''d never really had tea before.


    "That''s right, child. Mother Pearl knows a storm is gathering. Times are changing. May be time for us to change a little, too. And I know about you too... Courier."


    "What do you know about me?" I asked, a bit concerned. Everyone - even Boone - seemed surprised by that bit of news... but I wasn''t. My reputation was gettingrge enough, I honestly wasn''t surprised that staunch istionists like the Boomers had even heard of me... well, heard of The Courier. Pearl just kept smiling, handing out cups of hot tea to everyone around.


    "Just what I''ve heard on the radio. They say The Courier was shot in the head, and then reborn in Goodsprings. And I''ve heard tell that The Courier is a man who wanders the Mojave, helping people and solving problems. And it''s not like you''re keeping a low profile. That suits me fine, especially since you''re so eager to talk to us you''ll brave our guns the way you did."


    "So, you need my help then?" I asked, picking up on one of the things she''d said.


    "Just in a few ways to begin with, so we can get used to what it''s like to have a sav- outsider around and about. Should that go well, it may be you can help in big ways, too. I suppose we''ll have to see..." I sipped on the tea, regarding her words carefully... but there was something about this bothering me.


    "You know... you sound like you want me to trust you. But how can we trust each other if you''re going to be keeping secrets?" I asked. Pearl stopped midway through pouring her own cup of tea... and looked at me, impressed, nodding slowly.


    "You''re good. Not many would pick up on..." She cleared her throat. "You have to keep in mind that you''re our first contact with the outside world since I was barely a woman. Seclusion has kept us safe. But the world around us is changing. Neon lights in the distance, patrolling robots, soldiers, songs on the radio waves... My youngers think our guns can keep out the world, but I think we need to let it in, just a little... or be its victim. I want you and your friends to <em>be</em> that little bit of the world. This is my invitation, children, and my request for help. Wee to Nellis."


    The air in the control tower was very quiet, as I looked from Cass, to Veronica, to Arcade, and then -


    "Where do we start?" Boone spoke up. I suppose if Boone was on board with this idea, there wasn''t anything else that needed to be said. Not really.


    "There are a few ways you all can help. As it happens, you picked a good time to stop by, for we''re swimming in problems. My youngers can tell you all about it," As she spoke, Pearl started illustrating her list by counting down on her fingers. "Raquel could use help with the bug problems, Doc Argyll has wounded he''s tending to, and Loyal and Jack in the main hangars might be looking for help with some repairs. Or you could just go see Pete at the museum and hear The Story about our history. All you have to do there is listen. Come and go as you like, help or don''t help, I leave it up to you. But I hope you''ll show my youngers that not every outsider needs to be blown up."


    "Mother Pearl''s instructions are clear," Raquel said as we made our way back outside. "You can move freely around Nellis, and artillery spotters have orders not to fire on you or yourpatriots." She got right in my face, and narrowed her one good eye at me. "These are extraordinary privileges. Don''t abuse them."


    "Don''t worry," I said, as calmly as I could. "I didn''te all this way to start a ruckus. But there''s something we need to do, first." Raquel raised an eyebrow at me. "There''s one other person who works with me, and I''d really appreciate it if he didn''t get blown up."


    "Are you talking about the one on the motorcycle?" She asked. My gut tightened instantly. I guess we weren''t as subtle as I thought.


    "So, you''ve seen him then?"


    "Of course. The artillery spotters kept him in sight as soon as we spotted your car. He hasn''t entered the kill zone, though. The gun crews won''t fire on anyone unless they breach the perimeter." She paused for a moment, as if thinking of something. "Why didn''t you bring him along in the first ce?"


    "Well, he wouldn''t actually fit in my car..." My eyes went wide as I remembered: "MY CAR!" Without another word, I started running. I ran as fast as I could, and only stopped... when I saw what remained of my car.


    Half the paint on my Corvega was either scratched off or peeling. Every single panel of the bodywork was covered in dents and scratches, torn metal, and punctures. The windshield looked like it was about ready to copse inward - especially around the hole created by the cazador a few days ago. I would have said that both tires on the left side werepletely t, but there wasn''t enough rubber left for them to still be <em>called</em> tires. Most worrying of all, however, was the steady stream of smoke billowing out of the engine bay.


    "No! No no no no no!" I rushed over to the engine bay, utched the lid, and was hit in the face with a st of steam and hot smoke as the hood shot up from the pressure; my Pip Boy''s Geiger counter started clicking rapidly as soon as my engine was exposed. I brought up my arm in a vain attempt to cover my face and backed away as quickly as I could.


    "I... It''s..." I couldn''t think of the words. I was too... ovee. I know that sounds silly, since it''s just a car. But it was <em>my</em> car. And the trip across the artillery field had, unquestionably, murdered it. I stepped back even further after the engine started squirting bursts of glowing green liquid into the air


    "Look on the bright side," I heard Veronica say from behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "At least I was wrong about the engine exploding!" I couldn''t really take much sce in that, as my Corvega kept belching toxic, radioactive fumes into the air. Everyone else had finally caught up, and was staring at the car, same as me. I can''t be certain, but I think even Cass took her hat off when she saw the wreckage.


    "Do you need a ride to go get your friend?" Raquel said, pulling a radio off her belt, and spoke into it using some kind of military code - presumably, to call for the Jeep to swing around.


    "Yeah... that would... I think that might help. But that''s not all we''d need." Raquel looked at me curiously. "We''ll need somebody who can find him - and that we can follow."


    "The artillery spotters can radio-" She held up the radio, but I shook my head.


    "Nah, I''ve got a better idea," I pushed several buttons on my Pip Boy. "ED-E? Are you around anywhere? I''m gonna need your help with something." Almost instantly, there was a belch of ozone in the air, overpowering the burning smell from my car, and with a sh of lightning ED-E appeared no more than two feet away, beeping happily.


    "Hey, Raul!" I shouted over the roar of the Jeep''s engine when we got close to the ghoul on the motorcycle. ED-E had led us straight to Raul; I''m d that I can always count on that flying metal ball. Raul perked up at the sound of the car, and stopped his hog when he saw ED-E hovering near us. I hopped off the Jeep, and started walking toward him.


    "Oh, hey Boss. So, you made it in without dying, huh?" I nodded, and Raul chuckled. "Good work, boss. I had a feeling that hair-brained n of yours wasn''t actually as suicidal as it seemed. I mean, I knew from the start it wasn''t - it was one of your ns." By this time, Raquel had gotten off the Jeep and walked up next to me; I couldn''t really tell what her expression was, since the side of her face closest to me didn''t actually have any features anymore. Raul, on the other hand, let out a whistle as she approached. "Quin es tu amiga atractiva?"


    "Uh... what?" I asked. I didn''t know if he was slipping into Spanish just to screw with me, or if he just didn''t realize he was doing it.


    "Who''s your friend?" He asked, smiling at me and pointing at her.


    "I... I''m Raquel. Master-At-Arms for the Nellis Homnd," Raquel said; apparently she''d never seen a ghoul before. Especially when she said: "What are... <em>Who</em> are you?"


    "Raul Alfonso Tejada. Encantado," He looked around, as if suddenly remembering something. "So, uh... Boss? Where''s your car?"


    "Uh... that''ll take some exining."


    "You wrecked it, didn''t you, Boss?" He said tly. I could tell: he was trying his hardest not tough.


    "Well, it''s not blown up, if that''s what you''re suggesting. But... yes. Slightly. Completely." I tried tough it off, but it wasn''t really working.


    "Well, I''m sure we''re in a part of the world where there''s plenty of dealerships where you can get spare parts and fix your car, Boss." Raul fired up his motorcycle, and revved the engine. "So, are we going to head out?"


    "No one likes a smartass, Raul..." I muttered.

 Chapter 61: Medicine and History

    Chapter 61: Medicine and History


    <em>Hey, hey, hey! Wee back to the program. I''m Mr. New Vegas, and you all look extraordinarily beautiful today. News story that just got slid across my desk - apparently, there''ve been numerous reports of explosions, off to the north-east of Vegas, in the vicinity around Nellis. Sounds like someone didn''t see the signs, and wandered into Boomer territory again. With any luck, it was just a few fiends getting blown to smithereens. Well, that''s all the news I have for you right now. Now it''s time for some more ssic tunes: It''s Bob Crosby and the Bobcat''s taking us "Way Back Home."</em>


    All my friends were gathered around arge guard tower when the Jeep got back to drop off Raquel and me; Raul pulled up alongside the Jeep, and ED-E was flying close behind. The guard tower was pretty close to the front gate, and when I looked around I realized...


    "Hold up, my car is gone!" I shouted, jumping off the Jeep. "Where is it?"


    "Some robots came ''round, a few minutes ago," Cass spoke up, leaning against the tower. "Four of''m. Picked it up, an'' flew off."


    "What?!" I looked around, trying to figure out where they might have gone. "Why?"


    "Because I told them to retrieve it," Raquel said, stepping off the Jeep and following me. "Your car was leaking radiation. Before we left, I ordered a fireteam of Mr. Gutsy''s from 5th toon to collect it, and move it to a ce where the radiation can be contained."


    "It was that bad, huh?" I asked. She nodded.


    "You heard how frantically your Pip Boy''s Geiger counter was ticking. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have work to do. Mother Pearl may have given you permission to stay, but I don''t have the time to continue being your babysitter any longer."


    "Wait, hang on! Before you go - Mother Pearl said you had a big problem?" Raquel rolled her one good eye, looking annoyed.


    "A <strong>bug</strong> problem, yes," Raquel adjusted the strap on the rifle she was carrying. "Long story short, the power for the primary generator failed a few days ago. Giant ants tunneled into the generator room and set up a nest. I led a team down to exterminate them, but... we lost. Two dead, three wounded. I''m just d the backup generators are still holding, otherwise the Homnd would bepletely without power."


    "You want us to deal with it?" I asked. Raquel shrugged her shoulders.


    "Personally, I think it''s more than a pack of savages can handle. But if you want to try and kill those ants and switch the power back on, fine."


    "I think we can handle a few giant ants." Veronica shrugged away the sleeve covering up her power fist, and it let off a burst of steam.


    "Sure. Anyone can handle a few... but there''s more than <em>a few</em> down there. You want tomit suicide, go ahead and see for yourself. I will warn you: the ants must be eating gunpowder from the munitions down there, or... something. They exploded when Rico hit them with a methrower. Dizzy was using aser pistol - same thing."


    "What about bullets?" Boone asked. Raquel cocked her head to the side, thinking for a minute, and then shrugged.


    "Can''t say for certain. I ordered a retreat before anyone else died. As long as they''re not incendiary rounds, I think you should be fine. Just don''t hit any of the artillery shells down there." She stepped onto the back of the Jeep, but turned back to face us onest time. "Loyal''s been working on some kind of weapon to use against them. Maybe you should check with him first." She banged on the side of the Jeep twice, nodded to the driver, and they sped off.


    "So... guess we''re stuck here for a while," I said with a heavy sigh.


    "Well, you guys are," Raul said with a smile; he still hadn''t gotten off his motorcycle. I just rolled my eyes.


    "What''s the move, Fisher?" Boone spoke up. "We gonna deal with the ants?"


    "No... at least, not yet. I think we should hold off on that, at least until we talk to Loyal, like Raquel said."


    "So, what then?" Arcade asked. I was surprised; I think this was the first thing he''d said since we''d crossed the artillery field.


    "I think, before we do anything else, we should try and learn a bit more about the Boomers. If I remember correctly, Mother Pearl mentioned something about ''The Story'' and a museum. I say we start there. Any objections?" Everyone looked to each other, but nobody spoke up. At least, not to disagree.


    "Don''t worry, Boss," Raul chimed in. "I''m sure the sudden tension in the air is just a passing thunderstorm."


    The pack of us made our way across Nellis, wandering around as we tried to find the museum. It''s not like we could ask for directions though - every time we saw any Boomers as we passed, they all seemed to vacate instantly as soon as we came into view. Since we didn''t really have anything else going on, I decided to take this quiet moment and talk to Arcade. He wasgging behind, in the very back of the crowd.


    "Hey," I said, slowing my pace enough to walk next to him.


    "Oh, uhm... hello?" Arcade adjusted his sses.


    "You alright?" I asked. "You seem a bit distant."


    "Just... thinking a bit."


    "Anything you want to talk about?" I asked. Arcade shrugged.


    "Well, why I''m following you, for one. I''m still... not quite sure why. I mean... no offense."


    "None taken. I mean, it''s kind of understandable - what did you say my offer was when you first joined up with me?"


    "Appropriately resolute, and yet vague, I believe is what I said. The problem is, that hasn''t really been enoughtely. I mean, sure you helped The Kings sort out their differences with the NCR in Freeside, but... I mean, hell, thisst n you had may have worked, but it was insanely reckless, and put all our lives at risk. And for what? Because House told you to?"


    "It was going to have to be done, sooner orter. Look, House..." I sighed, realizing that I was about to defend <em>House</em>, of all people. "He has a n, and it involves keeping Legion on the other side of the river. We''re going to need the Boomers'' guns to help make that possible. This is going to keep innocent people in the Mojave from getting hurt by Legion - you know that. And be honest: working for House hasn''t been all bad."


    "Ehh..." Arcade pulled off his sses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah... in all fairness, it has been nice to sleep in a real bed with real sheets and having food avable on a regr basis, whenever I want. That''s something not even the Followers have been able to provide, and something I haven''t... I''ve not had that luxury for quite a while. But still... I don''t think House has anyone''s interests in mind except his own."


    "Well, that much is true. And if it makes you feel any better..." I scratched the back of my head, trying my best to try and keep cool. "It''s not like I have much choice in the matter."


    "What do you mean?" Arcade looked over at me, concern etched on his features for the first time.


    "Before Victor... <em>escorted</em> me back downstairs, House made something very clear. Something he wanted to make sure I always kept in mind: I can be reced. I''m sure that if I keep fucking around like I have been, he''s going to get rid of me. And, call it a hunch, but I bet it won''t involve a pat on the head and a shove out the door."


    "See, that''s what I mean. And you''re really willing to work for this man? Risk your <em>life</em> for him? He obviously doesn''t care about you. He just sees you as a tool, not a person. You sure you want someone like that in control of the wastnd?"


    "Yeah, well... what other choice do I have?" I said with a shrug. "I''m not going to let the Legion cross the dam. That''s for... damn sure." I chuckled softly at the unintentional pun. "And... well, as far as the NCR goes, they''re better than the Legion, but that ain''t saying much. I just <em>know</em> that if I let them win control of the Mojave on their own terms, it isn''t going to be any good for the people here, either."


    "Don''t let Boone hear you saying that," Arcade chuckled softly. "Still... I''m in full agreement with you there. I''ve seen enough of the NCR over the years to know that it''s every single negative quality of the US before the Bombs dropped. It''s bloated, it''s inefficient, it''s corrupt... The NCR gets an easy win against Legion without any consequences, it''ll just keep going until it copses in on itself."


    "So, I''ve got three options, and they''re all wrong." Iughed grimly. I shook my head a couple of times... and then, off to my left, a veryrge building caught my eye. I hadn''t really noticed it until just now (since we were walking past it) but now that I was looking, I saw a sign written in big block letters on the overhang above the front doors: "Mike O''Caghan Federal Hospital" and, on one of the pirs, a smaller sign: "Boomer Medical Station."


    "What? What''s wrong?" Arcade asked, when he realized that I''d stopped to stare at the building. Everyone else seemed to have taken notice, and were making their way back to me. All I was doing was thinking about something Pearl had said earlier:


    <em>"...Doc Argyll has some wounded he''s tending to..."</em>


    "Hey, Arcade?" I said, a smile slowly creeping onto my face. "I''m tired of making bad decisions. Wanna help me make a right one?"


    "Hello?" I called out when we entered the hospital. My voice echoed off the dimly lit walls, and faded into nothing. "Is anyone here?"


    "What''s that? Who''s there?" A voice rang out, followed swiftly by a ck man in a bloodstained white shirt, and a Vault Jumpsuit where the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist. Slung across his chest was the strap for arge leather pack, with a red cross stitched onto the side.


    "I''m looking for Doc Argyll. Mother Pearl said I should look for him if I wanted to make myself useful." The ck man started to slowly nod as I spoke.


    "I see, so <em>you''re</em> the Outsiders. That exins it." He reached behind the counter, and pulled out a clipboard. "As for finding Argyll - looks like you''ve found me. It''s not like you could''ve missed me, though. I''m really the only one working here."


    "Seriously?" Veronica called out. "But... but this ce is huge! You''re the only one here?"


    "The only one working in the part of the building still a hospital, at any rate," The doctor pointed behind him with a thumb. "The back half is used for munitions storage. Ten years ago, we had a full medical staff, but... now it''s just me." Argyll sighed, and looked down at his Pip Boy, in the same way someone would look at a watch. "Look, no offense Outsider. I know Mother Pearl has given you permission to walk around Nellis as you please, but I have patients to tend to."


    "That''s actually why I''m here," I said. "Thought we might be able to lend a hand. The people you''re looking after - they were injured fighting the ants, right?" Argyll nodded.


    "Yes, there are three of them. They were gravely injured when they were brought to me. I managed to stabilize them, but their wounds are pretty severe. They''re still in bad shape. Does your offer of help mean you have medical training?"


    "Well... no. I don''t." As I spoke, I pointed to Arcade, standing just to my right. "But he does." I pped him on the back, urging him forward; he stumbled slightly, apparently not expecting this particr turn of events.


    "Uh... hello. My name is Arcade. Arcade Gannon." He held out a hand, and the two doctors shook hands.


    "Pleasure," Doc Argyll nodded.


    "This guy is a doctor with the Followers of the Apocalypse. The Followers are really good with this sort of thing. He doesn''t have the best bedside manner, but he definitely knows his stuff," I said with a smirk.


    "That shouldn''t be a problem, they''re all unconscious anyway," Argyll said, smiling at Arcade. "And if what he''s saying is true, Dr. Gannon, I''m sure you can do us a world of good."


    "Please," Arcade held up a hand. "Dr. Gannon was... Just call me Arcade."


    "Is that the museum?" I said, asking my friends as we got close. ording to the signs we''d found, this was indeed the "Nellis Boomer Museum" but... it didn''t look like much. It was a pretty small building that looked like a cylinder halfway buried in the ground and lined in a row with several other building that looked exactly the same.


    "I guess so." Boone said, looking it over, same as me.


    "What <strong>is</strong> it?" Cass asked, cocking her head to the side. "Is it, like, a bunker r''somethin''?"


    "It''s a Quonset hut." Veronica said. "Old World military pre-fab structure. Designed to be built in a hurry, and moved by helicopter. The Brotherhood uses them sometimes... or, well... <em>used</em> to use them, before... Nevermind."


    "The fuck kinda name is ''Kwan-sit'' hut?" Cass asked.


    "It''s the name of the town where it was made. Quonset Point, Rhode Ind," Cass'' expression remained clueless. "I read about it in one of the Brotherhood archives. It''s on the east coast, somewhere."


    "Why d''you expect me to know this crap? I''ve never been east''ve Wyoming!"


    "That''s enough, both of you!" I said, walking past the two of them. "Alright, so... anyone other than me interested in learning some history?"


    "I''ll pass," Boone said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall, looking around. ED-E beeped out something, and started hovering next to the sniper.


    "I''m with Boone on this one, Boss," Raul said with a shrug. "When you get to be my age, you''ve gotta be real careful about the things you learn. Everything that goes in, something else has toe out. And I can''t afford to lose how to dress properly. Not at my age."


    "Sure, I''ll join you. Sounds like fun!" Veronica said with a smile.


    "What''re we all standin'' around fer, then?" Cass pushed past the two of us and into the Quonset hut - if that''s what it was actually called. A tiny bell above the door jingled as it swung open. Veronica rolled her eyes, and followed her with me right on her heels.


    "Visitors!" I heard a voice say from inside. At first, I thought my ears were deceiving me - it sounded like a kid''s voice - and then I saw a small kid (who couldn''t have been more than 10 or 12) appearing from behind a bookshelf at the back. He had a Pip Boy on his wrist like all the rest, and he was wearing a child-sized version of the Vault jumpsuit. Slung over his shoulder was a satchel decorated with pins, ribbons, and at least three-dozen spent shell casings; I also saw several books sticking out from under the p. When he saw the three of us, his face lit up in a wide grin with two missing teeth (one missing from the top row and one missing from the bottom.)


    "Wee! Wee!" He said, rushing up to us. "You must be the Outsiders! Mother Pearl sent word that you''d be stopping by. I''m sure you must be eager to hear the story of our people!"


    "Uh... are you Pete?" I asked. He nodded happily.


    "Yep! My name''s Pete, pleased ta meetcha! I''m the Keeper of The Story!"


    "Aren''t..." Cass looked to me cautiously, obviously surprised by this. "I mean... yer a little young, ain''t ye?"


    "Well, I <em>was</em> the apprentice Keeper until a couple months ago, but ol'' Keeper Don... well..." The young boyughed nervously, and looked down at his shoes. "Whiskey andnd mines don''t go together. So now it''s up to me." He sighed, and hung his head... and then he immediately perked up again. "I bet you want to know everything about us!" Pete didn''t even wait for us to respond. Instead, he just grabbed all three of us by the wrists (or sleeve, in Veronica''s case) and leading us to a couch set up against one of the walls. Painted on the wall opposite to the couch was arge mural. Pete stepped back, his happiness at having an audience almost palpable.


    "Imagine - you''re the first Outsiders - ever! - to hear our tale!" I looked to Cass while Pete cleared his throat; she looked just as worried as I felt.


    "Ages ago, long before I was born, we lived underground. Everyone had guns, but the Overseer wouldn''t let us explode anything, not even a hand grenade. We left and wandered the wastes." Pete pointed up at the mural on the wall - I could see a number of small, painted figures walking along in the desert - and walking out of what was very obviously the entrance to a Vault: a massive gear-shaped hole set into the side of a mountain.


    "There were savages with knives," he moved to another portion of the mural - the figures walking the desert were shooting at other figures, and blowing them up based on the painted explosions. "We blew them up with frag mines and grenades! Burned them with methrowers!" Pete mimed shooting something with a rifle as he spoke. "It was neat, but there was a downside. For every 43.6 savages we killed, we lost one of our own."


    "We needed a new home. We needed Nellis." As he spoke, Pete moved to another part of the mural - a really rather detailed representation of the tworge main hangars I saw next to the airfield... and a picture of a howitzer battery blowing up things beyond the gates. "Here, we have prospered and multiplied. Here, our mighty guns destroy any savages who might try to harm us before they can even reach our gates!" Pete was smiling as he spoke... but then, he must have realized what he was saying, because he looked at me with a worried (almost guilty) expression.


    "Well, until... but... not saying you want to harm us or you''re a savage, but..."


    "Don''t worry about it," I said with a smile.


    "Let''s hear the rest of the story!" Veronica said. Both Cass and I looked over at her; she was leaning forward on the couch, resting her chin against her hands.


    "Ah... heh... yes. Anyway!" Pete cleared his throat, and continued on with his story, pointing to the next part of the mural. This section of the painting showed several pods, and there were clouds floating above them. Inside the clouds, I could see pictures of pre-war jet fighters. "Nellis has revealed many secrets. It has taught us how to fly the bombers and the jet fighters once based here. And it has taught us how to find one!"


    "And that is our story so far, for thisst image is our future," Pete moved to thest part of the mural, and... it was a bit frightening in the implications. It was a painting of an old world bomber, flying above thendscape and dropping dozens upon dozens of bombs onto thendscape. Below it was a mass of vivid oranges and yellows ripping the ground to shreds in colorful explosions. "To restore the bomber, to fly the open skies in armored safety, raining high explosive ordnance upon ignorant savages - this is our destiny!"


    Pete finished his story, and looked at the three of us sitting on the couch expectantly... I looked over to Cass, and then Veronica. By this point, even Veronica looked worried about their ambitions. Even so, all three of us (very slowly) started pping... albeit, nervously. If Pete picked up on how awkward we all felt, he didn''t show it. He just smiled warmly at us, with that goofy, gap-toothed grin of his.


    "I''m very pleased that you listened to the whole story! Now that you know the story of our people, I''m sure you must have all sorts of questions!"


    "I have a question," I said, thinking about his story. "Why did your ancestors leave the safety of a vault?"


    "Oh, so you know about the Vaults! But then... well, of course you do." He looked down, and gestured at the Pip Boy on my arm; I didn''t really have the heart to correct him. "Yes, we lived in one of the Vaults. Ours was numbered 34. In our Vault, everyone had guns - but the Overseer wouldn''t let you fire off any of the <em>really</em> fun ones. I guess all the little pops and bangs at the firing ranges just got boring after a while."


    "Yeah, I can understand that," Veronica said. "Any detonation with a yield of less than half-ton of TNT is pretty every-day."


    "Hey, Shea, remind me - how much C4 did we use when we blew up th'' Silver Rush?" Cass asked.


    "Uh..." I had to think about that one. "I can''t remember. Was it... I can''t remember if it was ten packs or ten pounds."


    "You know, I''m surprised Nellis was empty when your people found it," Veronica said. "Most old-world military bases I know about have been upied by now."


    "Several automatic warheads detonated here hundreds of years ago, leaving the base highly radioactive." Pete said - I think he must have meant atomic warheads... "The savages of the wastes, ignoramuses all, avoided Nellis by habit." I looked down at my Pip Boy, and thought back to when I popped the hood on my car.


    "But your people all had Geiger counters built into your Pip Boys from your time in the Vault, though." I said. Pete looked impressed, and nodded at me.


    "That''s exactly right! You''re very knowledgeable for a sav-" Pete coughed. "An outsider."


    "How d''yall survive out here, totally cut off from everythin''?" Cass asked.


    "Nellis is apletely self-sufficientmunity! We draw water from Lake Mead, sr arrays provide power, and we grow our own crops!" I really had to admire this kid. He was just so enthusiastic about everything!


    "What about meat?" I asked. "Do you get any protein?" Veronica shook her head.


    "Nah, it''s not meat - we would''ve seen signs of brahmin or bighorners by now. If it''s just crops, I''m guessing... soy? Legumes?" Pete nodded as she spoke.


    "Indeed we do! Very impressive."


    "Alright, here''s a puzzler for you," Veronica said; apparently, she was really getting into the whole ''asking questions'' thing. "I''ve read about Nellis. The Brotherhood has files on every old-world military instation from before the bombs. Nellis is an Air Force base. What are howitzers doing here?"


    "Well, they weren''t here originally. We found the guns at a huge weapon depot called Area 2, many miles north of here. It took many weeks to drag the guns and their ammunition back to Nellis - and it was thest time any of us set foot beyond our homnd."


    "Alright, so that exins the howitzers," I said. "One thing I''m curious about, though: you said that Nellis taught you how to fly?" Pete nodded. "How? Is there like an AI on this base or something?"


    "Oh no, nothing like that. When we finally restored power to the base, we learned that some borate chairs we''d been sleeping in were actually virtual reality simtors! We believe they were used to trainbat pilots before the automatic warheads fell. We use them extensively. I alone have shot down over 500 Chines Xian-85 fighters, and flown over 1000 simted sorties for the Lockreed F-42c!"


    "An'' th'' bomber?" Cass asked. "Where''d you learn to find one''v those?"


    "Loyal, one of our elders responsible for repairs in the maintenance wing, found a file somewhere on the base,plete with magazine articles, photographs, and a map even! It seems that a bomber - apparently the 29th of its kind, crashed in Lake Mead on July 21st, 1948. Just imagine... that''s over 300 years ago! The photographs showed that it was basically intact, and the map tells us exactly where to find it. But we haven''t left Nellis in decades."


    "I can''t imagine that would be easy to dredge up from the depths of thatke," I said with a chuckle. "You''d need a hell of a crane."


    "No you wouldn''t," Veronica said, shaking her head at me. "You''d just need to attach bast to the ne to make it buoyant, and then those Mr. Gutsy''s you have around could haul it back for repairs. If my math is right, based on what Raquel said earlier about having at least five toons, that''s going to be 50 robots, easy. That should be more than enough to carry a B-29."


    "Yes!" Pete shouted, excitement spreading over his features. "In fact, that''s exactly what Loyal has nned to do. You should definitely go talk to him!"


    "Maybe we should," I said, pressing against my knees to help me get up. "Well, Pete, this has certainly been... educational."


    "I''m d you liked it!" Pete beamed at me. "I certainly wish everyone was just as interested in The Story as you are! Maybe I should act out the battles or learn how to throw my voice..."


    "Hey, if y''keep it up, y''can prob''ly sell tickets!" Cass said, ruffling Pete''s hair and making for the door.


    "Thank you for sharing the story with us, Pete," Veronica said, smiling. "You know, thinking about what you said... there are a lot of simrities between the Brotherhood and the Boomers. It''s... I didn''t expect that." Veronica followed Cass.


    "See you around, Pete. Thanks for the story." I said, giving him a very sloppy salute, touching two fingers to my right eyebrow, as I made my way to the door.


    "See youter, alligator! Oh, wait!" Pete rushed off behind the bookcase. "Before you go, here!" He came back, holding something in his hands and presenting it to me. "Something tomemorate this suspicious day-" (did he mean auspicious?) "-of the first Outsiders to hear The Story!"


    "What is it?" I asked, picking it up. It was a ss half-dome, with a white base that read "Nellis AFB" in big red letters. Inside the dome was some fluid, and a cutout of a Vault Boy, wearing a leather jacket and a peaked military cap. Behind him was a picture of the tworge hangars, and a restored B-29 bomber flying in the air. There were several flecks of white... somethings floating in the water.


    "It''s a snow globe!" Pete said. "I made it! Give it a shake, and it looks like radioactive fallout! Do you like it?" I turned it upside down, and the flecks of white all moved around, making the inside look like it was snowing. Huh. That''s a novelty.


    "Thank you, Pete. This is... this is wonderful, thank you."


    "So, do you guys want to check in with Loyal next?" I said, stepping out of the Boomer museum and putting the snow globe in my duster''s pocket. "Maybe we can find out if that weapon he''s building to fight the ants is actually a thing or not."


    "Sounds good to me," Veronica said. Cass and Boone nodded, and ED-E beeped. Raul, on the other hand, was just looking up at the sky.


    "Raul?" I asked. "You alright?"


    "Okay," the ghoul said, looking down at me with a shrug. "So, maybe I was wrong about the thunderstorm thing. I admit it."

 Chapter 62: Loyalty

    Chapter 62: Loyalty


    <em>Wee back to the program, I''m Mr. New Vegas. Got some news from Freeside. Gang violence in the lower east side neighborhoods has been steadily increasingtely. The Kings have been doing their best to do something, but they seem to be stretched entirely too thin. Perhaps that''s why the leader of The Kings met with NCR officials earlier today. Could The King be asking for help? Seems unlikely. More ssicsing at you over the airwaves. Up next, only on Radio New Vegas. </em>


    "Hey, Shea?" Veronica jogged up next to me as we made our way across Nellis to the main hangars. "You got a minute?"


    "Sure, of course I do," I said, reaching into my duster and pulling out the packet of cigarettes... that''s odd, I thought I had more than that. "What''s up?"


    "I''ve just been thinking. I''ve seen a lot out here, travelling with you. And... it''s made me realize something."


    "What''ve you realized?" I asked, flicking open Benny''s lighter.


    "It''s the Brotherhood - it''s failing." Veronica said. "I''ve always known that, but until recently I haven''t understood where we went wrong... or how to fix it. Our training is top-notch. Our technology gives us an advantage. But when it alles down to it... the Brotherhood is losing because we shun the outside world. We always make enemies, never allies."


    "Sort of like the Boomers?" I asked, blowing smoke out my nostrils. Veronica shook her head.


    "If Nellis had been under Brotherhood control, we wouldn''t have even gotten this far. Even the Boomers are more weing to outsiders than the Brotherhood! We refuse to recruit outsiders, or see the value in their simpler technologies."


    "Hmm..." I said, taking a draw from my smoke. "So, why don''t you do something about it?"


    "I... I don''t know. If the Brotherhood doesn''t change course, we''re going to fall apart or... fade away. I know the odds aren''t good, but I''ve gotta try. I can''t lose them. I think... I think I need to go home."


    "Tell you what," I said, dropping the cigarette and snuffing it under the sole of my boot. "I''ll take you back there, first chance I get. It might take a while though, seeing as how my car is a wreck, but..." I stopped, realizing that Veronica had halted in her tracks.


    "You''d do that for me?" Veronica asked, her eyes wide. "Seriously?"


    "Of course," I pped her on the shoulder; the feeling of metal under bup was odd, until I remembered the semi-powered armor she wore under the robe. It was strange, how easily I forgot about that. "What are friends for, right?" The next thing I knew, Veronica was wrapping me in a bear-hug, threatening to break my ribs.


    "Thanks!" She said, lifting me off my feet. "Thank you! This is great! I''ll encourage people to name their non-ugly children after you! Seriously!"


    "That-" I grimaced, speaking through gritted teeth. "That''s great! Just - let go''ve me!" Almost immediately, she dropped me from the unbearable vice-like grip.


    "Oh! Oops... Sorry. Guess sometimes I just don''t know my own strength."


    Eventually, we made our way to the tworge hangars next to the airfield. The big hangar doors looked way too heavy to even attempt to move, but luckily there were some hatch doors built into the side that were open. Unfortunately, Loyal wasn''t the first one I ran into. I barely made it two feet inside the hangar before I (almost literally) bumped into a man with scraggly blonde hair and wearing one of those Boomer outfits - with the Vault Jumpsuit, the leather jackets, and the patches made out of army ribbons and medals.


    "Uh, excuse me," I said, stepping back to let him pass. "I''m just trying to find Loyal. Know where he is?" He just sort of started at me, wide eyed.


    "You''re... you''re the outsider, aren''t you?" I looked back at my friends; Cass shrugged. "Lived your whole life out there, huh?" I nodded at him. "Wow. I always thought you savages probably spoke a differentnguage, but I hear you sound like us."


    "No todo el mundo ha Ingls, Pendejo." Raul chimed in from behind me. I shot him a nasty look, but he justughed.


    "What?" The blonde kid looked terribly confused.


    "Don''t mind him, Raul just likes to screw with people who don''t speak Spanish," I said, waving it off.


    "JACK!" A voice echoed out though the hangar. I hadn''t gotten a chance to take a look, but when the blonde kid (Jack, presumably) turned around to look at the voice, I finally saw the inside of the hangar. It was full of clutter and machinery - but the focal point of everything was arge tube with wings and propellers, sitting there in a halfway disassembled state. It almost looked like the ne from the mural in Pete''s museum, but... quite a lot was missing.


    "Yeah boss?" Jack called out after the voice. At that moment, a figure appeared on top of the cylinder.


    "Who''s that you''re talkin'' to, boy? You know I don''t like visitors in the shop when I''m working!"


    "It''s the outsider, Loyal! He was asking for you. Didn''t Mother Pearl say something about the outsider?" The figure jumped down off the metal cylinder and disappeared.


    "Alright, hold him there, I''ll be right down!" Loyal''s voice echoed.


    Next thing I knew, an old man with a heavily wrinkled face and a long white beard was walking toward me. Like Mother Pearl, he was wearing a ne made of spent shell casings, and a leather jacket that was zipped up halfway over his Vault jumpsuit. There were two bandoliers crossing his chest, but instead of ammo, they contained tools. He had a pair of goggles on his face, which he pulled down as he approached, letting them hang around his neck.


    "So, you''re the outsider, eh?" Loyal said, finallying to a stop in front of me. "Funny, I was expecting someone taller. I hope Pearl knows what she''s doing, letting you wander around Nellis as you please."


    "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I''m not looking to make any trouble," I said. "In fact, I''m actually looking to make myself useful."


    "That so?" Loyal asked. "Well, how about you look into repairing the sr arrays on the roof of the main generator building? Nothing tooplicated about it, but... eh-heh..." Loyal chuckled to himself, and started rubbing his back. "Well, it''s a long ways to walk for my old bones. In all seriousness, though, there are the giant ants that have built a nest over there. It kind of discourages any repairs."


    "Got any spare parts? Photovoltaic cells can be pretty fiddly." I heard Raul ask from the back of the group. What was he talking about, photovol- oh, wait. Loyal let out a hearty bellyugh.


    "Ha! If we had spare parts, do you think I''d be asking for help to fix the damn things? That''s rich."


    "Sounded like the only real problem was the ants," I said. Loyal just shrugged.


    "We ran out of spares for the sr panels a while back. Jack and I have been doing our best to patch the arrays with what we have as best we can, but we''re at wits end. I''m sure there''ve got to be spare parts out there somewhere in the wastnd, but I don''t know where you might start looking." Loyal smirked. "You may have noticed, we don''t get out much."


    "I used to repair sr panels on a regr basis, couple decades ago," Raul said. "I''ll take a look, see what I can do."


    I thought about that idea of spare sr panels... and my first thought was that it would be a good idea to ask Veronica about HELIOS er. Right now, though, there were other things to ask about.


    "I talked to Raquel earlier. She said you were working on some kind of weapon to fight the giant ants, I think?" I asked. Loyal nodded.


    "Yeah, I started to build a sonic emitter that might do the trick, but as far as I know it''s useless without knowing the exact frequency that would kill the ants."


    "Any frequency over 22,000 hertz at 150 decibels should do the trick," Veronica said simply. I did a double take, staring at Veronica with a raised eyebrow. How did she...


    "Hot damn, you''re right!" Loyal said, snapping his fingers. "It''s a matter of boosting across those thresholds, not exact amplitude!"


    "Was that English?" I heard Cass ask from somewhere behind me.


    "Don''t look at me," Boone said.


    "As it happens," Loyal continued. "I was testing the thing at 24,000 hertz, so it should be good to go. Follow me, I''ll take you to it," Loyal turned around, looked back and forth around the hangar a couple times, before finally snapping his fingers. "Yes, it''s this way. When you get down into the generator room, I''ll make sure that all you need to do is ce it near their nest, push the big red on switch, and cross your fingers."


    "So, this thing is gonna kill all the ants, right?" I asked. Loyal nodded. "Is it going to affect us at all?"


    "Signal''s too high for people to hear. Hell, I think it''d be too high even for dogs to hear, so no harm done. Might make you feel sick to your stomach, though."


    "So, out of sheer, morbid curiosity," I asked Veronica, with the massive sonic weapon strapped to my back. "How did you know about the hertz and decibels and things like that for killing the ants?"


    "Back when I was living in California, a colony of fire ants tried to burrow its way into the Citadel where my parents were stationed. Elijah brought out some sonic weaponry, and made sure the entire chapter was versed in how to use them."


    "Well, at least we have options, dealing with the ants." I said, pulling on the strap keeping the sonic weapon in ce.


    "That th'' ce?" Cass said, pointing off in the distance. Loyal had said we couldn''t miss the generator building, and I could kind of see why; the runway waspletely t for miles both north and south, and the only building I could see in the area was a small, squat concrete rectangle. I also saw rows of sr panels sticking up out of the ground, like rows of corn.


    "Guess so," I said. The sr panels I could see didn''t look like they were all that damaged... but then, I didn''t really know all that much about sr panels, so I couldn''t say for sure.


    "What''s the n?" Boone asked; I don''t know why, but he seemed itching to fight. More than normal, I mean.


    "Well, we''re gonna need some weapons, first off. I''m sure that rifle of yours''ll st the fleas off a dogs back at 500 yards, but we''re gonna need something for close quarters fighting. Something more effective at short to mid range..." I pulled Roscoe out of it''s holster. "...and with more kick than my old buddy here."


    "So, what are you thinking? Shotguns?" Veronica asked.


    "Hell, I''ve already got that one covered," Cass smirked, pulling her AA-12 off her back.


    "Yeah, but we don''t," I said. "Cass, I want you and Boone to scout around, see if there''s anyone willing to trade for some weapons. Shotguns, submachine guns... carbines in a pinch, if they don''t have - or you can''t get - anything else. V, I want you to see if you can find where they took my car. I should have some weapons we could use in the trunk. But no grenades." I reached behind me, and opened the small medical kit I kept on my belt. "Here, take some Rad-X, in case it''s still broken and leaking radiation."


    "Thanks," Veronica said, taking the small orange bottle.


    "I''m gonna take a look at some of the sr panels, Boss," Raul said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. "See what the problem is."


    "Sounds good. I''ll stay here with you, watch your back. ED-E, think you can follow Veronica, be her eye in the sky?" The small metal ball bobbed in the air, chirping happily. "Alright, we''ll meet back here in an hour, hour and a half. Good?"


    "Sounds like a n," Boone nodded, turning to Cass. "Let''s go find some guns."


    "Right behind ya, grim," Cass chuckled, checking the drum magazine on her shotgun.


    I watched everyone go their separate ways. I checked my guns, to make sure they were all ready to go. I didn''t have all that much on me: just Roscoe, That Gun, and the Ranger Sequoia under my arm. I think there was a submachine gun in my car, but I couldn''t be certain... Most of the guns I''d brought with me in the car were for longer ranges - Pinpoint and the anti-materiel rifle, stuff like that. I just hoped Boone and Cass would be able to find something.


    "Hey, Boss?" Raul called out behind me. I turned at the sound, and saw he was already at one of the sr panel arrays, checking it out. "You got a minute?"


    "Of course I do, man," I said, making my way over to him. "What''s up?"


    "Just... thinkin''..." Raul nodded his head slowly, as he pulled open a panel on the underside of the array. "That''s a good thing to see, huh Boss?"


    "What are you talking about?" I asked. "The inside of the panel?"


    "No, no, that Loyal guy." Raul pulled out a small shlight and peered into the circuitry. "He''s getting up there in years, but he still finds a way to make himself useful to his tribe. If you ask me, that''s better than withering away all alone, or holding on to some faded piece of glory from your past..." I nodded.


    "Well, yeah. Loyal''s using his years of knowledge to help his people. It''s a noble goal."


    "Maybe... yeah. That''s what I thought too." Raul seemed distracted...


    "We''re not just talking about Loyal here, are we?" I asked. Raul looked back up at me, and shook his head. "What''s on your mind, man?"


    "Just... old history, Boss. You know how I said I grew up outside Mexico City?"


    "Yeah." If he was brining up his time in Mexico, over 200 years ago... yeah, old history certainly applied...


    "I grew up a in a ce called Hidalgo Ranch. It wasn''t much. Just a bit of farm with a house... and three generations of Tejadas living there. I wasn''t the best behaved kid in those days. I was quick with my hands - with a pistol or a wrench. Wasn''t afraid to get in fights over it. I never killed anybody, but I had my share of run-ins with thew. Most of the time, though, my family kept me in line."


    "How long ago was this?" I asked, trying to figure out what brought on this bout of Raul waxing nostalgic... was it just from meeting Loyal?


    "This was before The War. When the bombs finally dropped... we were far enough away from Mexico City that we missed the worst of it. But things... they got bad quick."


    "Bad? What, like raiders and mutants?"


    "You''re close with the raiders, Boss. Mutants didn''t start cropping up until...ter. This was just a few days after Mexico City was vaporized. Refugees started pouring in from down the road. They all ended up at Hidalgo. We helped the people we could but... there were so many. Eventually, my father started turning people away before we ran out of food. Things... they got violent. My father and I got our guns, and we drove them off."


    "It didn''t work, did it," I said, grimly


    "It did at first. But... two dozen men came back in the night, after we''d gone to sleep. They set fire to the ranch house and barred the doors from the outside. My whole family was trapped." Raul didn''t look back at me as he spoke. "I smelled the smoke and got myself and my little sister, Rafa, out through a window, but everyone else... My parents, my grandmother, my two brothers and two of my sisters... they all died."


    "What happened then?"


    "Rafa and I ran. What else could we do? But we weren''t alone. Some of the men who attacked our home came after us. But I was always a good shot. The ones who came after us, I killed. The rest, I left be. I had to take care of Rafa. Not throw my life away on revenge." Raul was silent for a very long while.


    "You alright?" I asked. Raul nodded.


    "Yeah. I''ll be fine, Boss. It was a long time ago."


    "You shouldn''t me yourself for what happened to the rest of your family," I said, doing my best to try andfort him. "It sounds like you did everything you could for them."


    "Maybe," Raul shrugged. "I don''t know. All I know is that... for all my skill with a pistol, I couldn''t help them." Raul sighed, and got up from the exposed wiring underneath the sr panel. "Ah, listen to me, droning on and on about ancient history... Thanks for letting me get that out in the open, Boss. That''s been... weighing on my mind."


    "There''s more to that story, though, right?"


    "Yeah..." Raul ran a scabby hand along the top of his skull, and gave me a crooked, cracked smile. "But I''ve already wasted enough of your time. Don''t worry Boss. I''m sure I''ll tell you the rest of the story. Eventually."


    It was just over an hour and a half before everyone finally regrouped.


    "Any luck?" I asked as Boone and Cass made their way toward me. I could already tell from the bag Boone was carrying that they''d found <em>something</em>, at least.


    "We got guns, we got ammo, we got all sorts''ve stuff!" Cass looked pleased with herself, that massive shotgun slung over her chest. "These Boomer''s are awful friendly once you start talkin'' explosions."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I said, smirking.


    "They don''t trade in caps," Boone said simply, offering me the bag.


    "They don''t?" I unzipped the bag, taking a look inside. "So, what do they use?"


    "These weird coins," Boone reached into the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a small metal disk. It looked like it was made out of brass. "I''m not sure, but I think they''re melted down shell casings. We managed to barter for the guns and ammo, though."


    "Nice," I whistled, pulling out one of the submachine guns from the sack. It was mostly ck, with a metal stock, a shlight under the barrel, and a red-dot reflex sight mounted on a tactical rail on top.


    "Yer gonna owe me fer this''n, Shea," Cass said with a smirk. "Cuz I''m now outta whiskey."


    "I''ll do my best to make it up to you," I said, checking down the sights. "What is this, an MP5?" Boone nodded.


    "Two of them, with about 4 magazines each," Boone said, reaching into the bag, and pulling out some of the ammo. "180 rounds total. We also got some shells for Cass'' shotgun: 50 or 60 maybe."


    "I hope you''re hiding another bag somewhere, because that certainly ain''t gonna be enough, the way that thing eats rounds," I said, tossing a smile Cass'' way. She just rolled her eyes.


    "S''not my fault, this thing is full auto!" She patted her shotgun. "Y''so much as look at th'' trigger, it empties th'' whole fuckin'' drum!"


    "So where''s Veronica? Anybody seen her around?" Almost as soon as I finished speaking, I heard a buzzing from behind me - and ED-E flew into view, beeping and chirping, and humming as he went, with Veronica close behind. "There you are. So what''s the story? You find my car?"


    "Not quite," Veronica shrugged, pulling a pump-action shotgun with a matte ck finish, no stock, and a pistol grip off her back. "But I did find some weapons. You know these guys use smashed rifle casings as money here?"


    "So I keep hearing." I said with a smirk. "It''s funny though, I didn''t take you for picking up a shotgun."


    "Yeah, well..." Veronica slowly started loading the shotgun. "These bugs are supposed to explode, right? So maybe... punching them isn''t the best idea." The air was quiet for a minute or two... and then Cass came up to Veronica, putting a hand on her forehead.


    "You feelin'' alright, V?" Cass asked, apparently checking her temperature. "I''m shocked, such''n uncharacteristic bout''ve sensibleness." Veronica just rolled her eyes, and pushed Cass'' hand away from her forehead.


    "Don''t start."


    "Well, Boss," Raul walked up from behind me. "I got good news, and I got bad news."


    "That''s a switch," I muttered. "Let''s hear the bad news first, get it out of the way."


    "Loyal was right, Boss, these panels aren''t gonna get fixed without spares. There''s no getting around that."


    "And the good news?"


    "I figured out what the problem is, which means once I get the parts, it should be a quick fix."


    "Does that mean you''re gonna help on the bug hunt?" I asked. Raul shook his head, and started stroking his mustache with a scabbed, skinless hand.


    "Nah. I figure, I''ll keep watch up here. Besides, somebody''s got to keep ED-Epany, right?"


    "ED-E?" I asked, casting a nce at the hovering metal ball; he was flying around the sr panels, apparently examining them. At least, that''s what it looked like.


    "Yeah. Didn''t chica earlier saysers make those suckers explode?" Raul clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Eso no es bueno, Boss."


    "Alright, fair point. You can stay up here with ED-E. Guess it''s just the four of us then." I turned back to everyone... and it was in that moment I realized just how... <em>military</em> we all must have looked. Boone was in his full Desert Ranger kit,plete with the helmet that had the gas mask, his rifle slung across his back and an MP5 in hand. Cass was wearing the Riot Gear we''d picked up from the Gun Runners, same as me, and carrying that massive shotgun with the drum magazine, and a bandolier of shotgun shells slung across her chest. Veronica was the odd-one-out, but only because her armor wasn''t obvious like the rest of us. And then there was me, wearing the Riot Gear, a pistol, two massive revolvers, two knives, a pair of brass knuckles, and carrying a submachine gun.


    It was almost like we did this kind of shit for a living. Which... I suppose we did now.


    When the fuck did my life get so weird?


    "Alright, while you guys were out fetching the guns and ammo, I was checking out this concrete block that leads to the generators. There are two doors, one on the north side, one on the south. Boone, I want you and Veronica on the north door, Cass and I will take the south. We go in, shoot anything with more than two legs, nt the device, turn the generators back on, and get out. Simple. Good?" I got a trio of nods... and then I looked around, realizing that I was missing something. "Hang on, where''d I put the sonic thing?"


    "You set it down, about a half hour ago, Boss," Raul chimed in. "It''s over here." He pointed off to the far side of the concrete bunker.


    "Thanks," I said, about to make my way over there. Before I got too far though, I was stopped by Boone putting a hand on my shoulder.


    "Hey, uh... Fisher. You got a minute?"


    "Yeah. Sure, Boone. What''s up?" I was getting an unpleasant knot in my stomach. I had a nasty feeling that whatever Boone wanted to talk to me about, it wasn''t good.


    "Are you sure... uh... you sure about this?"


    "About what?" I asked, not really understanding the question. "Killing giant mutant ants?"


    "No, not that. Helping the Boomers like this. You sure it''s a good idea?" Yep. Not good.


    "Don''t pussyfoot around the issue, Boone. What''s on your mind? Tell me in."


    "Hmph," Boone said, the filter on his voice bing momentarily noticeable. "A few years ago, before the Legion came to the Mojave, the NCR started creating sharecropper farms, just east of Vegas. They didn''t have enough water, though... until they found a pipeline. Ran underground from Lake Mead directly into Nellis. They redirected the flow to the farms... and that''s when we found out about the Boomers." The knot in my stomach got tighter.


    "They started shelling the farms, didn''t they?"


    "It didn''t take too long for the brass to figure out what happened. But by then... the damage was done. The Boomer artillery killed 40... maybe 50 of the farmers. Men. Women. Children... Families. They were just civilians. They didn''t know what to do. Didn''t know what was happening."


    "That''s a bad deal... But once they got the water back, they stopped shelling the ce, right?" I felt like a heel the moment the words left my mouth. That was probably the wrong thing to say...


    "That''s not the point," Boone said, shaking his head. "If that proved anything, it''s that it doesn''t take much to set the Boomers off. And the firepower they have is immense. One wrong word, I don''t doubt they''ll start shelling Vegas. Freeside. Camp McCarran. Anywhere their guns can reach."


    "Well... that''s why we''re doing this. Trying to build up a rapport, initiate friendly contact," I smiled, setting a hand on Boone''s shoulder in an effort to try and put him at ease. "It''s like Pearl said earlier: we''ve just got to show them that not every outsider needs to be blown the fuck up." Boone continued to stare at me from behind those green lenses on his helmet.


    "I hope you''re right. Because if you''re wrong... then nowhere in the Mojave is going to be safe. At least... not around Vegas." I just tried to keep smiling it off, like this was no big deal.


    "Nothing like a little pressure."

 Chapter 63: ANTS!

    Chapter 63: ANTS!


    <em>And we''re back. That was "Who''s Got The Action," by the iparable Dean Martin. It''s just about time we got you some news. NCR officials at Camp McCarran were relieved when technical difficulties with its monorail line to the New Vegas Strip proved easy to fix. One anonymous official told us a serious mechanical failure would have been a disaster because of the age of the train and the scarcity of the recement parts. This segment of the program has been brought to you by the Vikki and Vance Casino: Be our partners in crime. Got a requesting up for "Ain''t Misbehavin''," by Fats Waller. Up next, only on Radio New Vegas.</em>


    "How''re we doing, Boone?" I said into my Pip Boy. Since Boone was wearing his helmet, I''d be able to use my Pip Boy to keep in contact with him and Veronica, so long as I tuned my Pip Boy''s radio to the right frequency. Might seem like a bit on the overkill side , but I thought it was a good idea to maintainmunication if we were going to divide our strength like this.


    "Veronica and I are in position," Boone''s voice crackled over the speaker. I turned to Cass.


    "You ready?" I asked Cass from over my shoulder. She pulled back the charging handle on her AA-12 with an audible click.


    "I was ready t''go five minutes ago, man," Cass smirked.


    "Alright, we''re going in. Meet you on the inside." I deselected the transmit button on my Pip Boy, and flicked on the light at the business end of my MP5. I kept the light trained on the door as I opened it slowly.


    "Still don''t see what th'' big deal is," Cass spoke up as the two of us entered the darkened room. As soon as Cass shut the door behind her, the darkness grew; it would have beenpletely dark if not for the light on the end of my gun, and the light spilling off my Pip Boy. "I mean, they''re just giant ants."


    "They''re giant ants that explode. Besides, we go in at both ends and meet in the middle, we can cover more ground and get out quicker." I scanned the room with the light... the interior of this concrete bunker looked almost like an office, with some metal desks and a few filing cabs. As I looked closer, there were definitely signs of fighting: bullet holes, a few blood stains on the walls and floor, and a doorway at one end of the room was ckened and scarred.


    What I didn''t see, however, were any giant ants.


    "Fuck me, s''dark in here, innit?" Cass grumbled from behind me.


    "Well that''s why we''re here, to get the power back on," I said aiming my shlight at a spot near the door that caught my eye. It wasn''t immediately apparent, but I was pretty sure that I was looking at a patch of dried blood - and drag marks left on the floor from something heavy being carted away.


    "I thought we were... " Cass trailed off. I started to say something, but she shushed me. "Y''hear that?"


    I listened carefully... and very faintly, I heard a distinct skittering sound of chitin legs moving, somewhere in the distance. I adjusted my grip on the MP5, and headed through the doorway towards the sound.


    "Hey, Shea? I uh... gotta question fer ya," Cass said.


    "Make it quick, I don''t wanna get ambushed by these things," I replied. I looked down and saw a pair of boots, and some legs... that weren''t attached to a torso. Based on the dried blood that I saw when I shone the shlight, and the drag-marks heading deeper into the facility, I''d put caps on one of the ants biting the unlucky Boomer in half, and carrying him away to fuck all knows where. I guess if it left the legs, it wasn''t all that hungry. Let''s hope it''s still full.


    The skittering sound in the distance seemed to be getting closer.


    "Can Boone''n Veronica hear us through yer Pip Boy?" Cass asked. We turned a corner, and exited onto a catwalk suspended from the ceiling. Down below I could make out the faint shapes of generators, and above us I could see lights that weren''t turned on.


    "Not unless I hit the button to transmit. Why?" As soon as I asked, I knew the reason and regretted telling her.


    "Well... jus'' wonderin'' if there was a reason y''wanted me t''follow y''down here, is all... Wantin'' t''spend more time with th'' girl with th'' nice backside, were ya?" Immediately, I came to a halt, and turned around to face her. Cass seemed altogether taken aback... or maybe it was a trick of the light from my Pip Boy illuminating everything around me with a green ambient glow, mixing with the white column from my shlight.


    "Are we really going to do this now?" I hissed through my teeth. "I think we have slightly bigger issues to worry about at the moment." I turned around hoping there would be something to shoot. Just my luck, there wasn''t anything. Yet. "You already had the shotgun, and Boone and I both have SMG''s. This way, both teams have one automatic weapon, and one shotgun. Simple as that. No other reason." I paused. "We''ll talk about... everything <em>else</em> once you square shit with Veronica."


    The skittering noise got even louder.


    "Yeah, well... might jus'' end soon''r rather''nter..." Cass sighed. "I think we''re gettin'' on each others nerves more''n is healthy..."


    "Yeah, I saw that spat between the two of you earlier..." A couple of spats, actually. I aimed my shlight down the catwalk... I still couldn''t see much, but I could <em>hear</em> the chittering of ants all around me, and it was making me desperately paranoid.


    "That''s been goin'' on like that, th''st couple''ve days."


    "I guess the honeymoon is over, huh?" I asked. Cass chuckled once under her breath. "That''s what you were going for though, right? Didn''t you say earlier about how things would just work themselves out when V realized you were a terrible girlfriend?"


    "Somethin'' like that, but... fuck, man... I don''t want her t'' <em>hate</em> me when everythin'' s''all said''n done, y''know?"


    "That''s always a risk..." I said more to myself than Cass. "Hold up a sec. I think I see something..." I came to a stop and held out my arm to keep Cass from plowing into the back of me.


    "Whoa..." Cass said from behind me. The catwalk came to an abrupt end, with jagged pieces of metal hanging off the end and giving the distinct impression it had been melted. About five or six feet away, I saw where the catwalk should have continued... but in between? Nothing but a very long fall. This was probably what Raquel meant when she said they explode...


    "No going that way I guess..." I said. Cass leaned over the edge next to me, looking down... and then hawked up a loogie, spitting down into the darkness.


    "Quit screwin'' around," I rolled my eyes and grabbed her shoulder, trying to edge her away from the drop. I turned around to head back, and the light from the shlight illuminated a six-legged mass of brown and red chitin, staring at me with glossy ck eyes, and chittering with open pincers.


    I''m sure I shouted some kind of expletive, though I don''t rightly remember what; as soon as I saw the giant ant standing less than three feet away from me, I started acting on instinct. I remember the muzzle shes, and watching the ant get torn to shreds. Seems Cass had the same idea, and my ears rang from the massive boom of Cass'' equally massive shotgun. The two of us stopped firing as soon as the ant copsed, its head and abdomen split open to reveal a mass of pulpy yellow meat.


    "I say again, we''ve made contact," I heard Boone''s voice over my Pip Boy''s speaker as soon as my ears stopped ringing. "So far, they don''t explode. Bullets are fine." I could hear various muffled pops and bangs continue off in the distance as soon as Boone finished talking.


    "Yeah... got that," I said, hitting the transmit button. "I think we may have woken this ce up."


    "Understood. See you on the inside." The Pip Boy clicked... and then I kept hearing clicking. I stepped over the ant carcass, and shone my light on the far wall - and on the ceiling. Guards may not look up, but I do. There was a trail of ants walking on the ceiling directly above us and up the wall in a line, climbing up from the depths.


    "Son of a bitch!" I yelled, slipping into VATS. It didn''t take much to dislodge them from the ceiling. A few short bursts of fire from my MP5, and the three ants clinging to the ceiling lost their grip and fell down into the darkness below. One of them hit the railing on the way down, shaking the whole thing.


    "C''mon, we gotta move!" I said, trying to simultaneously use the light to illuminate a path, and shoot the iing ants. Ahead of us, against one of the walls, was a staircase leading down. With any luck, there wouldn''t be any more catwalks, and we could nt our feet on solid ground.


    "Keep yer light up, man! Can''t see a damn thing!" Cass shouted from behind me; every time I''d shine my light on an ant scaling the wall, there''d be an explosion of noise and the giant ant would split in half in a shower of yellow gore and shattered chitin.


    By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, we must have killed 8 or 9 of the damn things, and when I looked off in the distance, down where the generators were, I saw more on their way. There was something bugging me - no pun intended - about all this, though. These ants were about four feet long, three feet off the ground maybe? Bigger than radroaches, sure, but giants ants that small size were only workers.


    We hadn''t run into any soldier ants yet. Those suckers were much, <em>much</em> bigger.


    Cass was standing over a giant ant that was wounded, but still twitching. One shotgun stter, and everything fell silent. I scanned the room, looking for more targets. It looked like, for the moment at least, we''d cleared out the ants. I think my eyes must have finally adjusted to the darkness, because I could make out details in the shadows like generators, rubble, and shelves full of ammunition and artillery shells.


    Not that I really would''ve <em>needed</em> to wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness... but since no one else''s eyes were cybeic, I''d opted to keep the nightvision switched off. Besides, one misstep with a shlight shining in my eyes while the nightvision was on, and I''d be blinded for who knows how long. I might be fine if I switched back to normal vision quick enough, or it might burn out the cybeics and I''d be left with no sight at all. I wasn''t really interested in testing it to see which would happen.


    "Boone," I said into my Pip Boy. "Looks like we''re clear on this end. Where are you?"


    I didn''t get a response from my wrist. At that moment, arge metal door built at the top of a small concrete ramp hissed, and folded in on itself into the walls and the floor. Boone and Veronica stepped out, and I think I could just faintly make out the silhouettes of a few dead ant carcasses in the tunnel behind them.


    "Right here," Boone said. Even though I couldn''t see his face behind his helmet and mask (did those lenses in the gas mask always glow green, or was it just reflecting the light from my Pip Boy?), I was pretty sure he was smirking at me. Or at least the closest Boone''s stoic expression could ever manage to a smirk, at any rate.


    "You know, I was expecting these ants to put up more of a fight," Veronica said, shotgun resting on her shoulder. "The way Raquel was going on about them, I thought this would be more... I dunno, difficult?"


    "Well, she did say they were using methrowers," I said, pulling the spent magazine out of my MP5 and loading in a fresh one. "They explode when hit with fire and energy weapons. There are enough of them that I can see how that would pose a problem if you were expecting them to burn or turn to ash like normal."


    "I suppose," Veronica shrugged. "So, what now? Didn''t Raquel say something about turning the generators back on?"


    "We should probably nt the sonic device first," Boone pointed at my back. "I''m sure Fisher''s sick of carrying it by now."


    "Eh, it''s not that bad," I shrugged, tugging on the strap with my free hand and then returning it to the smg''s foregrip. "I''ve had to lug around heavier. We just gotta find something that looks like an ant mount - some way they could''ve tunneled in."


    "Can we jus'' nt it''n go?" Cass chimed in. We all turned to face her; she was eyeing the walls suspiciously, almost like she was afraid they were going to cave in at any moment. "I''m startin'' t''get a bad feelin'' about this ce..."


    "What, scared of the dark now?" Veronica shook her head with a smirk.


    "Hey, fuck you! That''s not-"


    Cass didn''t get a chance to finish her sentence, because the entire room - which, I feel obligated to remind you, was both underground and made out of who knows how manyyers of concrete - suddenly groaned and shook tremendously. It was like the room was bnced on stilts, and someone was beating on the supports with hammers. The noise and vibrations echoed through everything, and threatened to shake my teeth out.


    We all looked to each other with expressions ranging from confusion to fear when the tremors finally stopped.


    "That wasn''t just me, right?" I asked, as soon as my voice regained some semnce of control over itself. "Everyone else felt the room shake?"


    The room shook again before anyone could respond; this tremor was bigger, and shook the room much more violently this time. Before I knew exactly what was happening, everyone was knocked off bnce. I know I got knocked on my ass, at least. There was a hideous noise all around, and I looked up just in time to see the ground heave upward. The concrete crumbled and split apart from underneath, moving like waves rolling on the surface of Lake Mead and ripping to shreds like it was made out of paper.


    "Contact!" I heard Boone shout over the noise... followed swiftly by the sounds of his MP5 discharging. I tried to get up on my feet, and saw dozens of feelers and chitinous legs try and push their way up to the surface through the ruined and broken concrete. I tried to take aim and fire, but it was damn difficult. The ground was still shaking, and the pieces of concrete notpletely broken werepletely sideways. I had my hands full just trying to keep my bnce.


    "Sheason!" a voice yelled out to my left. I looked up just in time to see Cass lose her bnce - and her hat - and start falling into one of the freshly opened cracks in the earth. Time seemed to slow down. She reached out to me with a hand as she fell.


    "CASS!" I moved as fast as my legs could carry me. Everything had simply be noise. I reached out to try and grab her but... I wasn''t quick enough. My fingers grasped at nothing and closed around air. She tumbled backwards, and her head hit the edge of a piece of broken concrete on the way down. In an instant, she vanished into the darkness.


    I didn''t hesitate. I didn''t think. I didn''t have time. I just pushed off from the ground as hard as I could and leapt into the hole feet first. My feet hit an angled tunnel, and I started to slide down, my boots scraping against the loose soil. The tunnel was dark, and the only source of illumination came from the light on the end of my MP5.


    I couldn''t tell you how long I slid down that dark tunnel, but by the time it spit me out onto firm ground again, the noises from above had stopped.


    "Cass!" I shouted, pointing my shlight into the darkness. "CASS!" I shouted again, louder this time. I couldn''t see her... this was taking too long. I flicked off the light on the end of my gun and blinked. The cavern was lit up by a bright green glow, and I could finally see everything in stark detail.


    About ten or eleven feet ahead of me, I saw Cass - she was sprawled out on the ground, her AA-12 discarded at her side. She looked unconscious... but she was still <em>moving</em>, being dragged along the ground by her leg. Standing over her was a giant ant, but not the worker ants like we''d been seeing. This ant was big, almost five and half feet off the ground, with a midsection like a tree trunk and spikes growing off its back. Her pant leg was caught in-between its pincers, and the ant was dragging her off into the darkness.


    "HEY!" I yelled. "Let her go, you son of a bitch!" It was almost like the ant heard and understood me, because it let go of Cass'' leg and stared up at me with huge, ckpound eyes. Its antenna twitched, and it let out a hiss from the huge mandibles on the front of its face.


    I slipped into VATS and made sure every single one of my shots were aimed square at its head. I don''t know how many bullets I had left in the magazine, but I know that by the time I stopped firing, it waspletely empty. I don''t know if I killed it or just drove it off either, because by the time I started to reload and the ant went missing, I didn''t care <em>where</em> it had gone. All I cared was that it wasn''t <em>here</em> anymore.


    I dropped my weapon as I slid against the ground, rushing to get to her side. I cradled her head and back in my arms, trying to hold her up off the ground.


    "Cass! Oh fuck, c''mon Cass! Wake up!" I tried to hold up the back of her head, and pped her cheek several times. I had to work very hard to ignore the wet feeling against my fingers that was leaking through her hair out the back of her head... "Snap out of it! C''mon, please! Tell me you''re okay, give me a sign!"


    "Uhhhn..." Cass moaned low, under her breath. I could feel her try and shift, but...


    "Shit... shit shit shit... I''ve gotta get you out of here..." I said, trying to pick her up. I wrapped her arm around my neck, and felt her stir in my grip. "C''mon... get on yer feet... can you move your legs?"


    "R''you... askin'' me... t''dance?" Cass mumbled under her breath. Well, that''s good. If she was coherent enough to crack jokes, she couldn''t be hurt too badly. Or maybe she was. It really didn''t matter, either way, I had to get her out of here as quickly as possible.


    "Sheason!" I heard another voice ahead of me. I looked up and was almost blinded. I blinked, switching my eyes back from nightvision to normal and saw Veronica standing in front of me - and then I saw her rushing over to Cass'' side. "Oh my god! Cass! Is she... is she alright?" Veronica held Cass'' face in her hands, trying to check if she was still alive.


    "She''s bleeding, badly. Back of her head," I said, trying to make my way to the tunnel that led back to the surface. Veronica kept pace, helping me carry her. "She might be concussed, going into shock, I dunno. I''ve gotta get her out of here."


    "Here, give her to me," Veronica said. "I brought the rope, I can get her back up easier. You''ve got to nt the sonic device and kill these damn ants."


    "Rope?" I tried to parse that information as I helped Veronica take hold of Cass. "Why the hell would you be carrying rope with you?" Veronica looked at me curiously, her expression only exaggerated by the green light of my Pip Boy.


    "Because every wastnder worth her salt knows the most useful thing you can possibly have is a length of rope," She turned away and looked up the hole, toward the surface. "Boone! I found them! C''mon, grab the rope! Help me up!"


    "C''mon, Cass..." I reached out and held Cass'' face up; her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open limply. "You can''t die. Don''t you fuckin'' die on me." What happened next... I don''t know if it really happened, or if my imagination was just getting the better of me again. But Cass cracked open her eyes slightly.


    "Not a chance..." she muttered, a smile creeping into the edge of her lips... then she closed her eyes again and her head hung limp.


    "Go," I said to Veronica, stepping back. "Get her out of here." Make sure she survives, I didn''t need to say. Veronica gave a nod, and it looked like she was about to start climbing out of the tunnels... but then she grabbed the ammo bandolier of shotgun shells draped around Cass'' chest, pulled it off, and tossed it my way. I caught it midair almost without thinking.


    "Here," Veronica said, wrapping the rope around her wrist and starting to climb, Cass practically draped over her shoulder. "You''re gonna need ammo."


    As Veronica carried the unconscious Cass back to the surface, I turned back to the tunnel... and that''s about when I realized where I was. And what I needed to do. I switched my eyes back to nightvision, grabbed my discarded MP5 with one hand, and Cass'' discarded AA-12 with the other.


    "Alright, you sons of bitches..." I said aloud, walking deeper into the caves. "Let''s dance."


    "Fucking hell, it''s hot down here..."


    I''d been making my way through the tunnels as cautiously as I could. I was scanning the area, keeping my eyes on nightvision; I''d tried looking around with thermal for a bit, but it was so hot down here that everything just looked washed out, and I couldn''t see anything. So, for the moment, everything was bathed in green.


    But I could <em>hear</em> quite a lot. It sounded like there were ants all around - chittering and skittering and scraping against the rock and soil - but I hadn''t seen any ants since the one that tried to drag off Cass. asionally, out of the corner of my eye, I thought that I''d seen some movement, but... if the ants were around, they weren''ting after me.


    "Just get it over with already..." I muttered, adjusting my grip on Cass'' AA-12. I was starting to get nervous. I had to find a decent ce to drop the sonic device strapped to my back, to make sure it would get all the ants in these tunnels, but... if it went down this far, how much deeper did it <em>go</em>?


    That''s about when I noticed the tunnels had changed slightly. Before, the tunnels looked like they''d been carved out of the rock and dirt by hundreds of pincers, feelers, and chitinous legs. But the deeper I went, the more the tunnels looked... I don''t want to say manufactured, because that seems like the wrong word. Grown, maybe? Regurgitated? Whatever the tunnels were made of now, it wasn''t carved out of rock, that much I was sure of.


    It certainly didn''t <em>feel</em> like rock under my feet. It felt organic. Almost... <em>squishy</em>.


    I didn''t get all that long to think about it, however, because at that moment I rounded a corner and was met with about a dozen sets of unblinking multi-faceted eyes connected to just as many giant ants.


    Suddenly, everything about my sojourn down here made sense: I hadn''t seen any ants, because they were all gathering together in a single location to strike me at once. It made a certain amount of sense, really: I remembered once that I''d seen a colony of giant ants all dogpile onto a single deathw to bring it down through sheer strength of numbers.


    It didn''t really register in my head until much, muchter that I must have rated just as dangerous as a deathw, as far as these ants were concerned.


    Strangely enough, when I rounded the corner they didn''t immediately attack me. At least, it didn''t feel immediate. It felt like I was staring at them for a long, long time. I think we must have caught each other off guard - either that, or my perception of time was somehow skewed and what was, in fact, only a few seconds felt like several hours. It was all very surreal.


    "Fes..." I said aloud.


    My entire world erupted. Dozens of mandibles and feelers clicked and hissed in a cacophony of noise, and the mass of chitinuous bodies all moved as one, like a tidal wave of limbs and eyes. And despite the oing wall of death screeching its way right for my face... none of them in that first wave even got close.


    I held down the trigger on the AA-12, and the explosion from the muzzle was deafening. sh after massive sh illuminated the chamber and threatened to blind me (so much that I had to switch off my nightvision), and the noise was just exaggerated by the underground chamber until it felt like thunderps in my ears. Limbs and chunks of insect flew backwards... and the strange thing was, there was barely any recoil. If I tried to do this with any other shotgun, the kickback would''ve had the gun pointing at the ceiling after two shots.


    By the time the drum magazine had been emptied, there was a pile of smoking insect parts and shredded guts scattered out in a great fan directly in front of me, illuminated only by the glow of my Pip Boy. Beyond the range of the light, I saw more movement... more of the damn insects on their way to try and w my face off. I didn''t bother to reload the drum (since I only had the one magazine anyway), so I dropped the shotgun and pulled out the MP5.


    I didn''t even really need to turn the light on. The muzzle shes from the submachine gun barking out round after round into the advancing ants lit up the cavern well enough for me to see where to aim next. It wasn''t the sound of thunder any more... it was more like a jackhammer, chipping away at a chunk of concrete. Fitting, given that the strobe light shing in front of my eyes revealed chunks of chitin flying in every direction, and more following with every burst of gunfire.


    By the time my MP5 ran dry, there was only one ant left still advancing on me. It crawled over the corpses of the ants that had tried to rush me, seemingly unaware of the danger. It wasing at me so fast, I didn''t have time to reload. So I did the only thing I could think of: I smashed the stock of the smg against the ants head as hard as I could to give me some time. The ant seemed stunned, so I went in for the kill. I dropped the MP5, pulled thebat knife off the sheath against my boot, and jammed it down as hard as I could into the center of its skull. The ant hissed and gurgled, struggling under the knife... and then the chitinous body fell limp, joining the other corpses and chunks of ants that had tried to kill me.


    "So..." I said, pulling out the knife and standing up. I was breathing heavily, but trying to steady it. "Anyone else want a go? C''mon, I got enough for all of you fucks..."


    A low, deep, terrifying rumble echoed through the chamber.


    Okay, perhaps asking out loud was a mistake.


    From out of the darkness, a massive armored leg stepped into view. This wasn''t a worker ant or a soldier ant... whatever this was, it was so very much <em>bigger</em>. A massive set of mandibles materialized in the air above me as soon as the light hit it; the jaws were bigger than my torso, and must have been at least <em>10 feet off the ground</em>. It''s legs were as thick as my own, and with each ponderous step closer, the whole cavern seemed to shake slightly.


    This is not a good ce to be. I don''t have any ammo for the shotgun; I don''t have any ammo for the MP5. I really doubt any of the three pistols on my person would even so much as chip that impossibly thick chitin, and the knife was...


    WAIT.


    What am I doing? The sonic device! That''s the whole reason I''m <em>down here</em>! And if this is where the queen ant was living, then fuck it! Good a ce as any!


    I had to work quickly. The giant queen ant was advancing slowly, but it was still way too close forfort. I pulled the sonic device (which just looked like a big box with a speaker on the side) off my back and set it on the ground... after backing up slightly... I opened it up, hoping that I''d be able to make sense of it under duress. Okay, you can do this. Ignore the giant jaws and the sound of clicking mandibles directly overhead... Turn the circr dial on the right, flip the two switches on the left, and hit the red button in the center.


    I stepped away as soon as I hit the red button, and... I''ll be honest, seeing that giant ant head with the massive mandibles so close to me made my bowels clench ufortably. It hissed and growled, with a thick trail of drool dripping down. Honestly, I thought I was done for. It was close enough that I wouldn''t be able to run...


    But then it paused. It cocked its head slightly, and its feelers went mad, twitching all over the ce. The giant queen ant reared back and roared... and it was then that I almost heard a noise that wasn''t quite a noise. At first I thought it was like static, but really it''s like the sound you hear when there is no noise, but you can still hear something.


    The queen started thrashing and howling in pain for a few seconds. There was onest gasp, and then - THUD. It copsed in a giant mass, shaking the whole cavern with its bulk. When it stopped stirring, I heard echoes from other parts of the cavern: ants howling in pain, snarling and spitting at the sound only they could hear.


    At first, I didn''t really know what to think. I was still just stunned that it actually worked. Gingerly, I stepped over the myriad of ant corpses, pools of ichor, and shattered chitin, trying to get back to my discarded weapons. I tried to ignore the most massive of corpses lying there next to me... even on its <em>side</em> it was still taller than me, to say nothing of how long it was. It''s giant swollen abdomen it had was undoubtedly the most disgusting thing I had ever -


    I didn''t get a chance to finish that thought. There was a sudden rumble from that massive swollen abdomen I was transfixed by, and before I knew what was happening... it exploded. It was like I was hit by a tidal wave, but... <em>stickier</em>. A veritable and literal flood of goo spread in all directions, hitting me like a sledgehammer to the face. For the second time this hour, I was knocked on my ass. For a few seconds, I couldn''t breathe, hear, see, or feel anything except this giant mass of putrid disgusting gtinous fluid threatening to drown me.


    I sat up and tried to wipe away the disgusting fluid away from my eyes, my mouth... but it was a futile attempt, as it was everywhere. The more I tried to use my hands to wipe it away, the worse it seemed to get. I was covered in the crap... and for all I knew, that''s exactly what it was. I mean, it did juste out of an ant''s backside... augh, fuck. Don''t think about it don''t think about it don''t think about it.


    "Phut, phut!" I spat at the ground, trying to breathe without getting any of it in my - oh fuck, it got in my mouth! Damnit!


    "I... augh... I knew that was too easy..."

 Chapter 64: Rest

    Chapter 64: Rest


    <em>You know, I once tried to test my Charisma on a Vit-O-Matic Vigor Tester machine once. The machine burst into mes. Got lots of ssicsing at you over the airwavester this afternoon - Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and the firstdy of song herself, E Fitzgerald. But right now, I''m in the mood for some of The Ink Spots. "It''s A Sin To Tell A Lie," only on Radio New Vegas.</em>


    By the time I crawled my way from the depths of that glorified anthill and opened the door to the outside, it was getting close to dusk. The sky was still mostly blue, and there was still plenty of light left, but I could see just a few faint splotches of red and orange color in the sky - signs that it was much, muchter than I thought it was. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the outside light, I just stood outside the door, blinking up at the sky for a few seconds.


    "Huh... I didn''t think I''d been down there <em>that</em> long..." I said aloud. No one was around to really hear me. At least...


    I heard a funny little beeping noise from behind me. I turned around in time to see ED-E float down from wherever he was hiding.


    "Oh, hey ED-E," I said with a wave; I looked up at my hand, and frowned. Despite my best efforts, I was still covered in that gooey ant crap. I shook my head and tried to push it out of my mind. "So, what''d I miss? Anything interesting happen while I was ying king of the mole-rats?"


    As if in response, ED-E floated right in front of my face, and he let out a weird sounding series of low frequency beeps. Hang on, I felt like I''d heard that before... And that''s when he started speaking - except it wasn''t the voice of Whitley, like before. It was still a man''s voice, but I didn''t recognize it.


    "Uh... Hello?" The voice crackled and popped - like it was a transmission full of interference. "Hi. Are you there?" The voice paused, but before I could respond: "Oh, right. I can''t hear you. Listen, I''m using your robot as a ry to get this message to you. I''ve picked up some unusual chatter regarding your robot. It seems that it has some information we could use." There was a burst of static from the transmission. "Oh, wait, where are my manners? My name is Lorenzo, a Knight with the Brotherhood of Steel. We''d be very interested in examining your tech. Whenever you get a chance, could you bring your robot to Hidden Valley so I can take a look at it?" There was a pop, another burst of static, and then... silence.


    ED-E let out a few disgruntled beeps, and shook back and forth in midair - it put me in mind of someone shaking his head after a sharp blow to the skull.


    "ED-E? You alright?" I asked the floating robot. It sounded like he was going to beep out something else - but then he let out that same series of weird sounding low frequency beeps <em>again</em>. The voiceing out of the speaker grill this time, however, was that of a woman. The transmission was no less full of static than before, though.


    "Hi, sorry to break in like this. He sounded truly riveting." Whoever this female voice belonged to, she seemed... I don''t know, almost annoyed. But who with? "I don''t want to keep you much longer, but I''d like to make a counter suggestion. My name is April Martimer, I''m with the Followers of the Apocalypse. We''re much more liberal about the sharing of technology than those Brotherhood... <em>people</em>. Bring your robot to us, and we''ll see that whatever information it may have on it is used for the greater good." And then the transmission cut out with a pop.


    "Hmm..." I regarded ED-E carefully. He shook himself again, like before, and the disgruntled beeps sounded even more indignant. ED-E hovered in the air for a few seconds, expectantly... and then when another set of voices didn''te, he seemed to rx. At least... as far as a floating metal ball can rx.


    "Seriously, you alright, ED-E?" I asked. ED-E looked at me (at least... I <em>think</em> he did. It''s hard to tell when something doesn''t have eyes), and bobbed off to the side, letting out a trio of beeps, followed by a pair of internal electronic clicks. If nothing else, he seemed fine now, at least. But this... transmission, whatever it was from these two, was worrying. It meant that ED-E had some kind of electronic back-door built into his systems. That could be trouble - especially if someone hacked into him to do more than use him as a flying radio...


    I''d have to remind myself to ask Veronica and Arcade if they knew either of these people who had contacted me... see if either of them were trustworthy. And to find out exactly <em>what </em>they might want ED-E for.


    "Don''t worry, little buddy," I said to the eyebot. "I''m not going to turn you over to anyone just because they asked nice. I''ll figure out what just happened."


    At that point, my thoughts were interrupted by another voice - but not from ED-E this time.


    "What the fuck is that smell?" A familiar female voice sounded off from around the other side of the concrete bunker. I followed the sound of the voice, and sure enough, there was Raquel with her nose in the air and a disgusted expression on her face. She was leaning against the side of her parked Willys Jeep.


    "Hey," I said, trying to catch her attention. "It''s me, Sheason - er, the outsider. That smell is probably me."


    "Outsider?" Raquel looked at me with a confused expression. "What are - OH GOD!" Immediately, she covered her nose and mouth. "Oh, that is VILE! That smell is <em>you</em>?!"


    "Oh, c''mon. It''s not that bad..." I said, scratching the back of my head nervously; I pulled my hand away, and shook it when I realized it was covered in gunk. "Alright, maybe it is."


    "What... what happened down there, Outsider?" It seemed like she was having a difficult time thinking with the smell in the air.


    "Well, the long and short of it is that I killed all the ants. They didn''t explode when hit with bullets." I smiled broadly, despite the gunk. "Everything down there should be fine. Apart from the tunnels the ants dug through the concrete." Raquel took her hand away from her face, and looked at me curiously.


    "That... that certainly exins why the power came back on, about half an hour ago," Raquel shook her head and smiled to herself. "Maybe Mother Pearl is right about you, Outsider. I have no idea how you pulled that off."


    "You can thank Loyal''s sonic device for that. It worked like a charm... and is the main reason I''m covered in liquefied giant ant queen." Raquel actuallyughed.


    "Well, good. I''ll get Loyal to send a team down to clear out the eggs and repair the generators. And I''ll make sure they don''t have any energy weapons or methrowers this time... just in case. Good work. And... thanks," Raquel paused for a minute, then added: "Sheason."


    "Thanks for calling me Sheason instead of outsider," I said with a smile. "Actually, there was a bit of business I wanted to discuss with you, before you go. Got time?"


    "Uh..." She looked me up and down, and the part of her face not covered with burns grimaced badly. "Sure, hang on," Raquel reached into the nearby parked Jeep, and after a few seconds of rummaging around, pulled out a respirator which she promptly put on her face. "Alright, go ahead."


    Part of me wanted to be insulted. But, to be honest... I thought it was pretty funny.


    "Before my team and I went down there, I talked with Raul," when she looked at me with a nk expression, I borated. "The ghoul mechanic who was hitting on you earlier. He said he knows how he can fix the sr panels, but he''s gonna need spares. I think I know where I can get a few, but if you want me toe back with them before the end of the month, I''m gonna need some transport."


    "And your car is broken," Raquel nodded. She seemed to think about it for a minute. "Alright. I think I can pull some strings with the quartermaster, and get you temporary ess to a single vehicle from the motorpool. When do you need it?"


    "Will tomorrow morning work?" I asked. "I''m kind of... well... I''ve had enough fun for one day."


    "I''ll bet," Raquel said, with a muffledugh from behind the respirator. "Speaking of that, Mother Pearl wanted me to deliver a message to you."


    "Oh?" I asked.


    "Pearl has arranged for you and yourpanions to be set up with lodgings while you help us on the homnd. It''s not much - a few rooms on the ground floor of the old Airman dormitories. But they''re air conditioned, and the beds are soft."


    "Well, thanks. Er, tell Mother Pearl I said thanks, at least. Sounds like a nice setup," And saves me the trouble of asking, I thought. "Just, one question."


    "Yes?"


    "Do they have showers?"


    It was definitely getting darker by the time I got to the hospital. I''d washed all that gunk off me, and cleaned all the guns - especially Cass'' shotgun - as best I could before heading out. Amazingly, it dissolved surprisingly easy when it came in contact with water, and drying my clothes didn''t take quite as long as I was expecting, but... despite my best efforts, I''m still fairly certain that I was surrounded by a bit of an odor.


    "Guess it''s a good thing robots don''t have noses, huh?" I asked ED-E as he hovered beside me. He started beeping in a way that put me in mind of someoneughing.


    On my way over to the hospital, a strange music filled the air. It was a single bugle trumpeting out a simple enough sounding tune. At first I thought I was hearing things, but then I realized - no, I was <em>actually</em> hearing a bugle call being piped through the speakers. It didn''tst long, and there weren''t any other instruments apanying it... but I was sure I''d heard some kind of bugle call.


    Unless it was just another sign I was going crazy.


    "I''m not going crazy. Am I going crazy, you think?" I asked aloud, turning to ED-E. The floating eyebot just hummed nomittally.


    "Gee, thanks for the support."


    The lobby of the Boomers medical station wasn''t quite as empty as I remembered it. Boone and Raul hadmandeered a table and a pair of sofas, and were ying some kind of card game. Didn''t look like Caravan, though. Boone''s helmet was taking up a seat on the couch opposite him, and he was back to wearing his beret and sunsses (despite being inside). Veronica was on the other side of the room, pacing. As soon as I walked through the doors, she perked up and made her way over to me.


    "There you are!" She said, putting on a smile to try and hide her worried expression. "You were taking so long, I was actually starting to get worried." About me, she didn''t need to say. I could tell that she was already worried enough about Cass.


    "Eh, you should know by now. I''m not so easy to kill," I said with a smirk... but then my expression faded. "So, any news? Is Cass going to be alright?"


    "I... I think so," Veronica tried to force a smile. "I mean, we came here as fast as possible. And, she''s in good hands. Arcade knows what he''s doing, and with Doc Argyll, they should..." Veronica crossed her arms across her chest and turned away from me - towards the door that led deeper into the hospital.


    "Don''t worry," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "She''ll be fine. Cass is tough, and way too stubborn to die from a measly little knock on the head."


    "Yeah... yeah, I know." Veronica was quiet for a long time. "Actually, I wanted to thank you."


    "Thank me?" I asked. "What for?"


    "Rushing in to save her like you did. I mean... when we saved you from the Legion, Cass was the one who really convinced us to get moving. I mean, ED-Eing back helped, but we wouldn''t have gotten there as fast if not for Cass. She said that if any one of us was in trouble, you wouldn''t hesitate toe after us to help."


    "And she''s right - but like I told her the other night, you guys don''t seem to get into the same kind of trouble that I do. So I don''t get the chance to test it out as often," I said, clearing my throat. "Besides: if I recall, you rushed off to get help when I got teleported to the Sierra Madre."


    "Yeah, well... I suppose I never really believed it until I saw you leap in after her. Not really. There was just... no fear. No hesitation. You saw her fall, and you leapt in after her without question." Veronica looked back at me with a smile. "So, just... thanks."


    "Don''t thank me," I said, trying to wave it off. "I was stupid enough to go charging into that glorified anthill without any n of getting back out again. You were smart enough to bring a rope."


    "Still..." Veronica shrugged. "It''s nice to know you''ll have our back if we get in trouble."


    "It''s nice to know you''ll have mine."


    I hoped that my smiling face wasn''t betraying the emotions I really felt. The guilt was practically suffocating. Yeah, it''s true that I''d probably try and help any of my friends if they got into trouble, just because it would be the right thing to do, but... I jumped in after Cass so quickly because...


    "Uh... Veronica?" As soon as the words escaped my mouth, my brain seized up. The guilt was overwhelming, sure, but... was <em>now</em> really the best time to tell her about... I mean... Cass might not - no. No, no, no. Don''t think about that. That way lies madness.


    "Yeah?" She turned to look at me curiously. "What''s up?"


    "I... uh..." I tried to keep my expressionposed. I was having a devil of a time trying to keep myself from looking guilty. Was I really going to tell her <em>now</em> with everything else going on? Hell, how would I even phrase it?


    "Any''ve you fuckers got anythin'' t''drink?" A familiar voice echoed out, interrupting me mid-thought. Veronica and I looked over to the door that led deeper into the hospital. Cass was leaning against the doorframe, hat in hand, and a bandage wrapped around the top of her head.


    And then, just like that, I was given a momentary reprieve. I don''t know who this friend of mine is that''s been giving me all this help from on hightely, but he''s got to be either God or the moon.


    "Cass!" Veronica rushed over to her and practically tackled her in a hug. "You''re okay!"


    "OOF!" Cass looked like she''d gotten the wind knocked out of her, and then some. I couldn''t me her - I knew firsthand what one of Veronica''s bear hugs felt like. Especially if she''d gotten a running start like that. "Yeah, yeah, m''okay! Jus''... let go''ve me! I... can''t breathe!"


    "Oh!" Veronica dropped Cass almost immediately. "Sorry! Sorry! I''m just so d you''re okay!"


    "C''mon Veronica," Arcade appeared in the doorway behind Cass. "You know she''s tougher than that."


    "I''m fine, s''just a small bump on th'' back''ve my head an'' a few cuts''n bruises, nothin'' serious."


    "Here," Boone offered up a bottle of whiskey, that he pulled from... actually, I don''t know where he pulled it from. I think I''d only ever seen him drink once...


    "Oh, shit! I''s just kiddin'' ''bout th'' drink, man, thanks!"


    "Hey Cass," I said, trying my best to disguise my enthusiasm. "d you''re back on your feet."


    "Pfft," Cass waved it off and gulped down some of that whiskey. "Don''t gimmie that, I know you''ve had a lot worse. Hell, I''m jus'' surprised y''aint ribbin'' me ''bout it yet. I mean, I got taken out by an <em>ant</em>." Cass said with a smirk.


    "In your defense Cass, it was a pretty big ant. And an even bigger sinkhole." I said, smirking right back at her.


    "If you ask me, I''m astounded she''s up and walking around. I didn''t expect her to be conscious so soon," Doc Argyll appeared behind Arcade, and pped the blonde doctor on the shoulder. "I''ll say this, it''s a good job Arcade was around. It''s like you said, he sure knows his stuff. Turns out, there''s a lot I can learn from outsider medicine."


    "So, I take it there''s good news from the other three patients as well?" I asked. Cass gave me a nod and wandered off, over toward the card game that Boone and Raul had resumed.


    "Yes indeed," Arcade nodded. "It was touch-and-go for one of them, but I think all three of them should pull through."


    "Well, good. That''ll add to the good news then!" I said with a nod.


    "Add, Boss?" I heard Raul ask from the other side of the room.


    "Yep. See, strange as it may sound, I''ve got good news, and then I''ve got more good news."


    A heavy and awkward pause hung in the air.


    "Are you feeling alright?" Arcade said eventually, breaking the silence. "You <em>never</em> have good news."


    "Hah. Hah." I deadpanned. "I''m serious."


    "Alright then, sh," Veronica said, sitting on the back of a nearby seat. "What''s the news?"


    "Mother Pearl arranged for us to get some rooms, so we all have a ce to stay the night. I''ve already been around that way to check them out," and clean the ant crap off me. "They''re pretty nice. Small. I mean, it''s not the Lucky 38, but..."


    "I''m still trying to get used to not sleeping on a bedroll," Veronica said, shaking her head. "So, anything with a real mattress is a step up."


    "Eh, it''s not like I sleep anyway, Boss." Raul chimed in, setting down his hand. "There we go! Gin!"


    "We''re ying poker..." Boone shook his head and sighed.


    "Wait, y''don''t sleep?" Cass asked. Raul shook his head.


    "Nah. Well..." he paused, looking thoughtful for a minute. "I can, and I do sometimes, but I don''t need it."


    "So, what''s the other piece of news?" Arcade asked, trying to ignore the ghoul.


    "I''m gonna get to that. But first," I turned to Veronica. "V? You said before that Helios One is a sr power nt, right? Didn''t you and the Brotherhood used to live there, before the NCR arrived?"


    "Yeah?" Veronica looked at me curiously; I couldn''t tell if she didn''t know where I was going with this, or if she knew and just didn''t want to believe it. "I mean, Elijah always said there was more to it than just the sr power station, but... I mean... nevermind." She shook it off. "Why?"


    "You wouldn''t happen to know where we could scrounge up some spare parts for sr panels inside Helios, would you?" I asked. Based on her expression... yeah. There was no doubt in my mind that was the ''I don''t want to believe he''s seriously suggesting this n'' face.


    "I... might. But I think there''s a bit of a hitch to that n," Veronica said nervously. "How would we even get inside? The NCR is using it as a base. I don''t think they''ll let us in if we just ask nicely."


    I turned my attention to Boone - but before I got a chance to voice my idea, I was interrupted by Arcade.


    "I actually might be able to help with that." Arcade seemed nervous and suspicious at the same time. It was actually impressive how he managed to pull off both expressions at once. "But there''s another issue. How far away from Helios One are we right now? 30 miles? 35?"


    "Closer to 40, if my Pip Boy is to be believed," I said, looking down at the screen and pulling up the map.


    "Exactly. That''s not exactly a leisurely stroll, especially since we''d be carrying who knows how many spare parts with us on the return leg. And, may I remind you - your car is still a wreck. This could take <em>days</em>. And that''s if we''re extremely lucky and don''t run into any trouble, which... let''s face it, Sheason, that''s an impossibility with you around. You''re a walking bullshit ma. No offense."


    "None taken. But days? That, you see, is where you''re wrong," I said, switching off the map on my Pip Boy. "Because that brings me to my second piece of good news: I got Raquel to lend me a car. One of those old Willys Jeeps. She said I could pick it up from the motorpool tomorrow morning." Cass just shook her head andughed.


    "I bet he sweet-talked her out''ve it," Cass said to Raul with a smirk.


    "He probably told her the burns on her face really bring out the highlights her eyes," Raul said with an approving nod. Cass... didn''t look convinced.


    "Uh... call it a hunch, but I''m <em>pretty</em> sure he didn''t..." Cass seemed to contemte that thought, and downed the rest of the bottle of whiskey.


    "Why not? It''s what I would''ve done." I couldn''t tell if Raul was serious or not.


    "So, a courtesy car, huh?" Arcade asked, stroking his chin. "Did she mention anything about your car? Anything at all?"


    "Huh? Uh... no. No, I don''t think so," I said, confused.


    "Hmmm... " Arcade looked deep in thought. "Interesting that she wouldn''t... either way." Arcade shook his head several times. "It''s been a very long day, full of lifesaving, and frankly... I think I''ve used up my allotted goodwill towards most other human beings for today. Where are these apartments you were telling us about?"


    "I don''t think ''apartment'' is really the right word..."


    The first hour or so after showing everyone to their rooms, I wandered around Nellis. We''d spent so much time trying to get things done that I hadn''t really taken the time to look around. Despite that, I eventually found myself on the roof of the same building I''d left, and... for as clean and orderly as the rest of the base had been, the roof was a bit of a surprise.


    Up there, I found several tables, two dozenwn chairs, a few umbres by the tables, and several long extinguished tiki torches. It looked like someone had held a party up here and forgotten to clean up after.


    Works for me.


    And that''s where I''d been since finding the ce - lounging on one of the deck chairs with a case of beer I''d managed to scrounge up from somewhere, just staring up at the night sky. How long had I been sitting up here? I''m not really sure. I hadn''t really been paying attention to the time, and I couldn''t be bothered to look at the clock on my Pip Boy. I was too busy just looking <em>up</em>.


    It was a clear, cloudless night, and the stars shone overhead like a million tiny pinpricks. I could barely see the moon - it wasn''t quite a new moon, but it was close enough. We were far enough away from Vegas and there were hardly any lights on anywhere in Nellis, so... it seemed to make all the stars shine that much brighter.


    It was nice - the peace. Getting the chance to rx. Knock back a few cold ones (well... lukewarm, anyway) and stare up into infinity. There was a small voice in the back of my brain, trying to convince me that something was wrong - that tiny little niggle of paranoia, trying to convince me that no ce in the wastnd is this peaceful.


    I set down my empty beer bottle next to the other five, and reached into my pocket, pulling out the packet of smokes.


    "Damn," I muttered, staring into the packet. Only one left. Eh. Might as well. I pulled thest cigarette out with my mouth, and sat up, looking around. I half expected somebody to try and talk to me while I was up here, but... nope. Still all alone. And, for the moment, that suited me just fine.


    I went back to staring up at the sky, thin wisps of smoke swirling in the air above me, and thought about this morning, when Victor had thrown me out of bed. As bad as it had started, and as dangerous as it had been at various points, today... I dunno. Today had been a good day. Made contact with the Boomers and found out that, despite the weingmittee of artillery fire, they were actually quite nice people. And with any luck, I''ll be able to get them on my side...


    Eventually, exhaustion overtook me. Or maybe I just didn''t want to move. After I finished off myst smoke, and polished off thest of the beer, I drifted off to sleep underneath a curtain of stars.

 Chapter 65: That Lucky Old Sun

    Chapter 65: That Lucky Old Sun


    <em>Good morning, Mojave Wastnd! I''m your host, Mr. New Vegas, and I''m here for you. News from Camp McCarran this morning. ording to an anonymous source inside the NCR, Major Dhatri led an operation, which included elements of the NCR 1st Recon division, to try and push the Fiends out of South Vegas yesterday. It''s currently unknown if the operation was a sess. Promotional considerations for this segment of the program have been brought to you by The Riv: Entertainment capitol of The Strip. Got some more ssic tunes over the airwaves, only on Radio New Vegas.</em>


    The next thing I knew, a sound like a jackhammer thundering in my skull was sting me awake - followed swiftly by the sensation of falling face first onto the floor.


    "OW! Fuckin''... the fuck is that noise?" I blinked wearily, clutching my head and trying to get my bearings. I was still outside, on the roof... I must have fallen asleep up herest night. Now, if I could just figure out what that noise was.


    I tried to ignore the ringing in my skull... or was... hang on, that noise wasn''t a jackhammer or... what <em>was</em> that? Was that more bugle music?


    "Wait a sec, I recognize that tune. Is that... that''s reveille, isn''t it?" It certainly sounded like it, and I''ve seen enough old world war holotapes to recognize the tune, but... why would someone be ying that at this ungodly hour?


    "Ugh... fuck," I grumbled, trying to cough some phlegm loose. My back and countless other joints in my body creaked and popped worryingly as I moved. "Might as well get moving... I wonder if Raquel managed to get me that Jeep?"


    "Hey, Arcade?" I rapped my knuckles against his door. "You up? I wanna get moving to Helios. Sooner we go, sooner we can get back." I didn''t get a response, but I did hear some strange grunts and someone shuffling from inside.


    "Morning Shea," I heard Veronica speak up from behind me. "Arcade still not up yet?" I turned around to look at her, and saw that ED-E was hovering near her as well.


    "I''m not sure," I said with a shrug. "I heard something from in there..." I banged on the door again, a bit harder this time. "C''mon man, we''re ready to go. Youin'' or what?" Almost immediately, the door opened.


    "I''m here, I''m here, keep your shirt on..." Arcade said as he slid the door open with his foot, and putting his shirt on, ironically enough. "What''s up? What''s going on?" He reached for a spot next to the door and grabbed hisbcoat.


    "I was just wondering if you were ready to go or not," I said simply.


    "Hmm?" Arcade started to put on his white coat, but paused, as if thinking. He seemed a bit.. I dunno. Distracted maybe? "Oh! Right, the Helios thing. Sure, I''m ready to go."


    "You alright?" Veronica asked, looking concerned.


    "Yeah, I''m fine," Arcade said with a smile. Wait - Arcade <em>smiled</em>?!


    "You sure?" Veronica didn''t seem convinced. "It''s just that you seem a little... odd this morning, that''s all." It seemed like Arcade was going to protest further when we were all interrupted by the sound of another voice from inside Arcade''s room.


    "Arcade?" The voice was followed by Doc Argyll appearing out of the darkness. "You getting out of here?"


    I''m sure that I expected a great many things this morning, but a shirtless Doc Argyll in Arcade''s room was way down on that list.


    "Yeah, going to help this loser..." Arcade smirked, pointing at me over his shoulder with his thumb. "...get into Helios. We''ll probably be back this afternoon."


    "Alright," Argyll nodded with a smile. "We''ll talkter?"


    "Sounds good. I''d like that," Arcade gave Argyll a peck on the cheek (to which Argyll responded by swatting Arcade on the behind as he left), adjusted his sses, and strut past me with an expression of infinite smugness. When he passed Veronica however, he merely high-fived her outstretched hand.


    "I''ll be honest, I... did not see thating," I said, finally finding my voice. Arcade turned back to smirk at me.


    "You know, Sheason, just because you don''t see something doesn''t mean it doesn''t happen." He pushed his sses back up his nose. "So, are we going or what?"


    When the three of us and ED-E arrived at the motorpool, the shock had finally worn off. Arcade was usually so cold and calcting, and didn''t seem to like to let anyone in. Usually, it''s all business with him... it was odd, knowing that he actually had real human emotions.


    Still. Good for him. Maybe now he''ll loosen up a bit.


    "Good, I was wondering when you three would show up." Raquel said, peeking out from under the half-open garage door of the motorpool. She pushed the garage door up and out of the waypletely with one hand, and tossed me a set of keys with another. "Here''s your ride. I expect you to bring it back in <em>exactly</em> the same condition as you found it. Clear?"


    "Crystal," I said with a nod as I walked around the Jeep. Like the other ones I''d seen, it was green with arge white star inside a circle painted on the hood, and it had no roof. On the sides, above the back wheels, I saw... hang on, those look like gas cans. I was about to ask, when Raquel beat me to the punch.


    "You probably won''t need it," Raquel said, grabbing the gas can I was staring at, and holding it up in front of me. "But here''s some extra fuel. I''d much rather you use this than have my Jeepe back all full of holes. I''ve seen that wreck of yours that Hamilton''s been fawning over."


    For the second time in as many hours, I was rendered speechless. Was that... no, it couldn''t be...


    "Is that what I think it is?" Arcade asked.


    "What?" Raquel looked back and forth at the three of us, confused. "It''s just a can of diesel. What''s the problem?"


    "How... how is that possible?" Veronica asked; out of the corner of my eye, I saw that everyone else had the same look of shock and surprise that I''m sure was stered on my features. "I thought the ran out of petroleum reserves over 200 years ago!"


    "It''s biodiesel, made out of corn," Raquel said simply.


    "What." I was so confused, I couldn''t put any inflection in my words.


    "There are several miles worth of tunnels under the base," Raquel exined with a sigh. "It''s almost like Vault 34 down there, but not quite as big. There are several dozen underground greenhouses for growing crops, and a refinery we use to process what we grow into fuel. Some of the cars in the motorpool use those nuclear-electric engines like in your junker, but most of the engines we use are diesel. More reliable, and less vulnerable to an EMP." She looked back and forth between us after her exnation. Eventually she just sighed, and rolled her one good eye, walking off.


    "Just bring it back in one piece, outsider."


    When we got clear of the bomb range that was the approach to Nellis'' front gate (and the Jeep stopped threatening to toss us out of the car - seriously, was the suspension made out of rocks or something?) and back onto mostly unbroken tarmac, I decided to ask a question that had been on my mind sincest night.


    "Hey, Veronica? I''ve got a question for you."


    "Shoot," she said from her spot in the passenger seat.


    "Do you know a Lorenzo in the Brotherhood?" As soon as I mentioned his name, Veronica seized up, and her eyes went wide as pie tes. Her mouth worked up and down a few times, but no noise came out.


    "Lor- how do you know that name?" Veronica looked deathly pale. More than usual, at least. I pointed to ED-E, who was flying ahead of us and sting music from the radio out of his speaker grille.


    "I got contacted by some guy called Lorenzo yesterday. He imed to be in the Brotherhood, and hacked into ED-E to give me a message." I nced over at Veronica, trying to gauge her reaction. Even in profile, I could tell she was working hard to keep her expression passive. "Know anything about that?"


    "I... er... well... yes. Lorenzo is a Senior Knight in charge of the repairs and maintenance wing at..." Veronica cast a nce behind her, toward Arcade. She cleared her throat. "What did he want?"


    "Same thing April Martimer wanted," I said, looking at Arcade in the rear view mirror. His only response was to raise an eyebrow. He didn''t look nearly as nervous as Veronica about this revtion. "Does that name ring any bells, Arcade? After all, she said she was from the Followers."


    "Uh, yeah, I know April. She used to work at the Fort, but I think she''s working at a small outpost just outside Henderson." Arcade adjusted his sses and rubbed his chin. "Why, did she contact you too?"


    "Yeah. Same way - using ED-E as a radio. They both seem to think he has some kind of important information inside his metal chassis. They weren''t too specific about what it was <em>for</em>, though." Both Veronica and Arcade seemed to perk up at that.


    "Well, you know, you did promise the other day to take me back... er, home." Veronica nced back at Arcade again. She was being very careful not to mention Hidden Valley in front of him... "Maybe you can bring ED-E with us, and Lorenzo can take a look at him?"


    "Uh, excuse me," Arcade leaned forward. "But do you really want to give the Brotherhood <em>more</em> old-world tech? I think they have enough. I''m sure that the Followers would make better use of it, whatever it is. We can use it to actually <em>help </em>the people of the wastnd. Besides, they''ll take that bucket of bolts apart piece by piece, you''d never see it again."


    "Hang on, that''s not fair!" Veronica practically shouted, shifting in her seat to face Arcade.


    "Didn''t think you''d have a problem with that, Arcade," I growled, getting annoyed. "I thought you didn''t trust ED-E."


    "I don''t," Arcade said simply. "I''m still waiting for the day it blows a fuse and tries to kill all of us. But it''s proven useful... on asion. And you seem attached to it. Seems a shame to waste a resource like that."


    "Look, Arcade... I know we''ve had this kind of conversation before thest couple of days," Veronica''s voice was level. Too level, actually; she was obviously straining to maintain civility. "But I know Lorenzo. He''s not stupid. Whatever the data ED-E has, I''m sure it''s dangerous. He wouldn''t have contacted Sheason otherwise. You may not agree with the Brotherhood''s methods, but I hope you can understand our motives. It''s bound to be safer in-"


    "Just because something <em>can</em> be weaponized, doesn''t mean it <em>will</em> be, Veronica," Arcade cut her off, raising his voice. "You''ve said the Brotherhood wants to keep dangerous technology out of the wrong hands, and I admit, I can respect that. But the problem is that, in the Brotherhoods eyes, <em>everything</em> from the old world is potentially dangerous technology!"


    "ED-E is a piece of military hardware!" Veronica retorted back. "What if it''s ns for a superweapon? ICBMunch codes? Power armor designs? Because that''s probably what it is. How exactly would the Followers use something like that for the betterment of mankind?"


    "Stop it! Both of you! Could I say something before you twoe to blows?" I practically yelled. Both of them leaned away and shut up, staring at me. "I wasn''t nning on turning over my friend to anyone! So you can stop arguing about that right now."


    "Your... friend?" Arcade seemed surprised. Why would he be surprised. "Sheason... it''s a robot. It''s an inanimate object, it''s just a tool."


    "No. No he isn''t," I said, watching ED-E in front of us. He was bobbing along, apparently oblivious to us talking about him; I could hear the music from the radio from here. "He is <strong>not </strong>a tool. He''s my friend, and I''m not going to hand him over to the first yahoo that calls me just because they think he might have something useful."


    "So... why did you ask us?" Veronica asked, softly. She looked... almost guilty.


    "Because I wanted to know if you two knew who was trying to hijack my buddy. And I was hoping either of you might have suggestions on how to <strong>stop </strong>it from happening again."


    "So, that''s Helios One, huh?" I asked as the power nt came into view. Veronica nodded. Two things jumped out at me about the power nt. The first (or, at least, the most obvious) was therge tower in the center of the facility. I''m not entirely certain why, but the shape of it put me in mind of an olive stuck on the end of a toothpick... or a head on a spike.


    The other thing I noticed was the squat, square, and mostly brick building on the far side of the tower. That''s strange... since when does a sr power station have smoke stacks?


    "Yeah, that''s it..." Veronica said, grabbing the top of the windshield and standing up to get a better look at the approaching building. "That''s strange..."


    "What is?" I heard Arcade say from his spot in the back seat.


    "It''s just... I expected to see more NCR troops around..." For some reason, she looked concerned about that. I just shook it off and drove us closer to the power nt, bringing the Jeep to a stop about 50 feet away from the perimeter fence. Even from here, I could tell... we weren''t going to be able to just cut through it and sneak in to get the spare parts. So much for those bolt cutters I brought...


    It was almost like... I don''t know. The fence was so heavily reinforced, and topped with both barbed wire <em>and</em> a coil of razor wire, it made it seem like the defenses surrounding a military base, not a power nt. And the fence looked old - there''s no way the NCR had put that in ce. No wonder the Brotherhood had set up shop here before the NCR kicked them out.


    "Alright, so how are we getting in here?" I asked, hopping out of the Jeep as it ticked itself cool. "You said you had a n, right Arcade?"


    "I certainly do," Arcade dropped off the back of the Jeep, and walked past me toward the massive brick building in the distance. "The trick here is to let me do the talking. Just follow my lead, and we''ll get in no problem."


    "Follow you - hang on, since when did you be this criminal mastermind, master of deception?" Veronica asked, holding back augh. As she spoke, she adjusted her robe to make sure her armor and power fist were properly hidden underneath the bup folds.


    "Nothing criminal about it," he replied. "And you don''t have to hide the power fist. In fact, the more visible it is, the easier this will probably go." I tried thinking about that for a minute... and that didn''t make sense. This whole situation seemed back-asswards. What the fuck was Arcade nning?


    "Is this the same reason you asked me to drive down here in full kit, with the marksman carbine slung over my shoulder, along with the three pistols and the submachine gun under my trenchcoat?" I asked.


    "I just asked you to make sure you looked dangerous before we left. You''re the one who took that to extremes. But yes," Arcade nodded. "Trust me. This is going to work." Famousst words, but whatever. I looked around, trying to find the floating robot that had dominated our conversations earlier.


    "Hey, ED-E? You around, little buddy?" Almost immediately, the flying metal ball zoomed through the air over my head, and came to a stop next to me with a beep. "I think you might need to make yourself scarce for a while, alright?" In response, ED-E let out a burst of that triumphant marching music, and disappeared with a crackle of ozone.


    A few minutester, the three of us were at the front door of Helios One. In front of the door was a hastily constructed checkpoint - a pillbox bunker made out of scrap metal and reinforced with mountains of sandbag barricades, and a small pole with the g of the NCR off to one side. There were three troopers that I could see. One of them - a female whose green beret and metal bars on her cor indicated she was a lieutenant - got up from the bunker when she noticed our approach.


    "Alright, that''s far enough," she held out one hand, resting the other on the rifle slung across her chest. "This is a restricted area. State your business."


    "I''m here to help with the power nt situation," Arcade stated inly. "A colleague of mine contacted me, and said the NCR was looking for any sort of help to get Helios One up and running again. I''m here to make good on my promise." The lieutenant raised an eyebrow, first looking Arcade up and down, and then looking between Veronica and myself.


    "Uh-huh," She didn''t sound convinced. "And who are these two? Lab assistants?"


    "Oh, of course not," Arcade waved it off, smiling at her. "These two are merely my bodyguards. The wastnd can be a very dangerous ce, especially for a man of letters such as myself. Wouldn''t you agree?"


    "A man of -" The lieutenant paused, then shook her head and sighed. "Okay, yeah. I''m sure you know Rivas... Look, if you''re at all serious about trying to help us, head inside and talk to the idiot with sunsses in the back of the building. He''s been trying to get this ce running for months now, and hasn''t made any forward progress."


    "The idiot with sunsses?" I whispered under my breath to Veronica. She just shook her head and shrugged.


    "Don''t worry, we will," Arcade smiled at her again, making his way to the front door. "Thank you again, miss...?"


    "Haggerty. <strong>Lieutenant</strong> Haggerty. Now go on, get moving, this ce isn''t going to fix itself." Arcade and I were about to enter the building when I heard Veronica''s voice sound off from behind me.


    "Uh... excuse me. Before we head in, I was actually wondering... shouldn''t there be more people than this defending this ce?" She seemed... I don''t know, a little nervous. Maybe she was afraid she''s let slip that she was a member of the Brotherhood. I motioned for Arcade to go on ahead. I figured I should stay close - knowing my luck and Veronica''s short fuse, one wrong word and we''d end up cleaning away all the pieces of the NCR soldiers we''d be forced to fight with a mop if I didn''t keep her on a leash. So to speak.


    "You''re right, there should be more troops here," the Lieutenant said, bitterly. "But we''re not getting much power out of the nt, so none of our enemies have a big interest in it either. Not like Hoover Dam, anyway. We had a real fighting force here just long enough to take it from the Brotherhood of Steel. Then, they got sent east to the Dam just like everybody else."


    "What about Legion?" I asked, stepping in. "Do the forces on this side of the river ever attack?" Haggerty shrugged.


    "Caesar''s Legion sends skirmishers every so often. Prodding for weaknesses, mostly. The hell of it is, if they really wanted this ce, we''d all be dead. And if we end up losing the Dam, then... well... this little patch of nowhere might end up being ourst stand. Not really an appealing prospect, but... I have my orders."


    The interior of the power nt was a maze. Fortunately, Veronica knew her way around and helped us navigate thebyrinth-like corridors quite easily. Her silence as she led us past offices that had been converted into barracks or storage rooms, however, was quite disconcerting.


    "Hey, V? You alright?" I asked quietly, keeping pace behind her.


    "Yeah, I''m..." She swallowed hard. "I just... it seemed like they put in a lot of effort to... you know... kick us out of our home. Now it''s like they don''t even want it."


    "Shit, V... I''m... you alright?" I was mentally kicking myself. I''d been so concerned with getting new sr panels, that I hadn''t thought what bringing Veronica back to this ce might <em>do</em> to her.


    "Yeah, don''t worry about it. I''ll be fine." The quiet way she said it told me that was just tant lies. "It''s just... it was hard enough seeing my home taken over and finding out how many of us had died... I never imagined it would be harder seeing it so... empty." She waved it off, trying to smile weakly to reassure me. "I''m fine. Just bad memories. I won''t let it get in the way."


    "Still..." I set a hand on her shoulder as we walked; it seemed to calm her down some, at least. "I''m sorry. For whatever that''s worth, I am."


    "Thanks," Veronica said, quietly. "I appreciate it."


    "So, how much longer till we can get those sr panels?" I heard Arcade shout from behind us. I shot him a look made of ice and daggers. I hoped that he would get the point, that this wasn''t the time, but Veronica answered him all the same.


    "It shouldn''t be much -" As she spoke, the hydraulic door directly in front of us slid into the ground, and in its ce was a man in a dirtybcoat and sunsses, with a tangled mess of greasy red hair, and a thin, weedy mustache dusting his upper lip. He seemed to seize up at the sight of the three of us, and we just stood there staring at each other for a few seconds.


    "Hi," I said, breaking the silence. He sprang into action immediately, pointing at us and screeching at us usatorially.


    "Who the hell are you? They bring you in to rece me? They''re recing me, aren''t they?" He grimaced and backed up, looking back and forth between all three of us.


    "Settle down," I gestured with my hands, hoping that would help get the point across. "Nobody''s here to rece anyone." Immediately, his manner changed; he stopped hunching and stood up, rolling his shoulders and adjusting thebcoat by thepels.


    "Damn right, you''re not. You''re Goddamn right. And why would they? You can''t top this guy!" He pounded a fist against his chest, and smiled widely with a mouth full of depressingly yellow teeth. "Just a little more time. You can''t keep Fantastic down for long!"


    "I guess this is the idiot with the sunsses," Veronica whispered in my ear from behind me. I tried to stifle augh.


    "Why are you worried about being reced?" Arcade asked.


    "Worried?" He waved Arcade off and wandered off deeper into the room. I could see a couple of desks, a few rusted mainframes, and one really big console with a whole lot of unmarked buttons. "Do I look worried to you? I''ve got this under control, baby. No one else can do what Fantastic does here." He grabbed one of the chairs, sat down, leaned back, and propped his feet onto the console.


    "All right then... <em>Fantastic</em>," I couldn''t think of anything else (polite) to call this asshole. "What job do you do here?"


    "What do I do? I''m in charge, that''s what I do," Heced his hands behind his head. "This whole operation depends on me. No Fantastic, no power. Got the whole NCR suckling my teats, and damn but it feels so good."


    "You know, the troopers outside don''t seem to think this ce is producing any power at all," Veronica said; I could tell, she thought this whole exchange was hrious, and I couldn''t me her.


    "Yeah, well... see... we''re getting power, because the guy running this ce is Fantastic. But the mirrors outside aren''t aimed right, so we''re running at one percent efficiency. And I guess that just isn''t good enough for some assholes," Fantastic coughed loudly, only vaguely disguising the word ''Haggerty'' in the cough. "Trouble is, most of the controls for this ce aren''t here - they''re in the tower. And that ce has some crazy Pre-War security systems that the dumbshit NCR set off when they took over. Killed two guys. Now they won''t go near it. They want me to make an omelet, but I can''t break any of their eggs, know what I''m sayin''?"


    I looked over to Veronica, who just shrugged and rolled her eyes. Can''t say I me her.


    "How did you even <strong>get</strong> this job?" I asked. The longer this went on, the more ridiculous it seemed.


    "It was easy, man," Fantastic adjusted his feet, and hit one of the buttons on the panel. "They were going door to door asking if anyone knew any scientists. I said look no further. They asked me if I knew anything about power nts. I said as much as anyone I''d ever met. They asked me how well I understood theoretical physics. I said I had a theoretical degree in physics. They said wee aboard."


    I buried my face in my hands, doing everything I could not to just bust upughing. Judging from the sounds to my left, Veronica was in the same boat.


    "So, how would someone retarget the mirrors? You know... just out of curiosity," Arcade asked. Veronica and I looked over to him curiously. I''m not sure what V was thinking, but I know I was wondering how he could be such a good liar for some things, and such a catastrophically bad liar for everything else.


    "Well, there''s these two terminals outside. They control the mirrors. I tried fooling with them, but didn''t get very far. You''d have to get them to talk to the mainframe up in the tower, then do the rest from there." He paused for a minute, scratching his face. "Probably. I''m guessing. But it sounds good, right?" He cocked his head, looking up at Arcade. "Hey, you''re not thinking of going up there, are you?"


    "I am now," Arcade said, and... I think he was smirking slightly.


    "Well... hey - if you find yourself up there, do yourself a favor and make sure you send the power to the right ces: The Strip and McCarran."


    "And why would I do that?" Arcade asked, crossing his arms over his chest. I was too confused to say anything: how could this have happened? Usually, I was the one talking to people.


    "Because I get paid, that''s why!" Fantastic said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Per kilowatt-hour, whatever the hell that is. That''s where the NCR wants the power, so that''s where I want it. But you know, you do that, maybe I put in a good word for you with them. Fantastic''s little helper! There''s a reputation you can hang your hat on!"


    "I don''t have a hat," Arcade deadpanned. Fantastic just waved it off, and started rummaging around in hisbcoat. Eventually, he pulled out a scrap of paper.


    "Whatever. Here, you''ll want this. It''s the password to one of the terminals outside. Found it scrawled on one of the stalls in the bathroom."


    "So, what the fuck was that?" I asked Arcade, just as soon as we got out of earshot of Fantastic. Not that he would have cared anyway, I don''t think - we weren''t talking about him.


    "What was what?" He asked, and... I couldn''t actually tell if he really didn''t know what I was talking about, or he was trying to be clever.


    "That whole business with getting the power nt running again," I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb, back toward Fantastic. "I''m not sure if you''re aware, but that''s not what we''re here to do. We''re here to find some sr panels, not fuck around with power nt controls. I couldn''t care less if The Strip and McCarran get <em>more</em> power."


    "And who says I''m going to send it that way?" Arcade said with a smirk, pushing his sses back up his nose. Veronica and I just exchanged nces.


    "... You''re gonna have to exin this one to me, Arcade." I could tell he had some kind of n, but I couldn''t figure out what it was.


    "If we get this ce up and running again, we''ll have the opportunity to redirect the flow of power toward Freeside and outer Vegas. Send it where people might actually need it." Arcade smiled wider. "Think about it. We could do something genuinely good for the people in the wastnd."


    "Well, that''s a nice idea, Arcade, but there''s a problem with that. This ce is run by a moron." I countered.


    "Ah, but he''s not the only one who works here," Arcade said smugly. Before I could question what he meant further, another voice interrupted us.


    "Arcade? Arcade Gannon? I don''t believe it, it really is you, isn''t it?" The three of us turned at the noise, and saw a man in abcoat with messy, cropped ck hair walking in our direction - he was making a beeline to Arcade, specifically. The two of themughed and embraced each other like old friends.


    "Ignacio! How''ve you been?" Arcade pulled away slightly, and patted this guy on the back.


    "I''ve been doing well. And you? Keeping yourself busy, or just wandering around like you did a couple years ago?"


    "Oh, you know me," Arcade smiled, and... was that a wink? "Always getting up to some kind of trouble."


    "Uh, excuse me boys," I interjected, and the two of them seemed to stop verbally making out with one another for a moment. "Don''t mean to interrupt, but..."


    "Oh!" Arcade smacked his forehead. "Of course, of course. Guys, this is Ignacio Rivas. He''s a friend of mine in the Followers that I''ve known for years. Ignacio, this is Sheason Fisher and Veronica Santangelo. I''ve been travelling with them thest few weeks."


    "Yourst name is Santangelo?" I asked, turning to Veronica. She nodded. "I didn''t know that."


    "You never asked."


    "Fair enough," I said with a shrug, turning back to Arcade. "You know, I am continually surprised by you."


    "How''s that?" Arcade asked.


    "Well, it''s just... for as abrasive and hard to get along with as you are most of the time, you seem to have quite thework of contacts here in the wastnd. That''s just surprising to me." I hoped I wasn''t being too rude, but it was the truth: it <em>was</em> surprising. Arcade just rolled his eyes.


    "So, what brings you this way?" Rivas turned back to Arcade. "In yourst letter, it sounded like you weren''t going to find your way down here anytime soon."


    "Well, it was a bit out of the way, I admit," Arcade shrugged. "But Sheason here needs to get some spare parts to fix some sr panels, so I thought I''d make good on my promise, and help you get this ce up and running." Almost immediately, Ignacio seemed to tense up; his expression hardened, and he stopped smiling.


    "Hmm... well... if that''s true, then take my advice: this instation carries dangers that no one here has realized," He turned, and looked at all of us. "Take care what you do, and who you listen to. Some things are best left buried with the old world."


    "Hang on," Arcade seemed to get worried at the sudden shift in tone. "Are you saying you <em>don''t</em> want this ce running? It sounded like that''s why you were here in the first ce,st time we spoke." Ignacio shrugged.


    "It''s true, if you remember, I was sent here when we saw that the NCR had taken it. As you know, we never had any record of the facility - but we did have records on the builders."


    "Poseidon Energy..." Arcade growled under his breath. The name didn''t really mean anything to me, but... weren''t they an energypany from before the war?


    "Exactly," Ignacio nodded. "I''ve seen equipment here marked with symbols used by the Pre-War military. Targetingputers. Shock sensors. And a codewordes up repeatedly in the papers I''ve looked through here: ARCHIMEDES."


    "So, you think ARCHIMEDES is a weapon they built here?" I asked, ncing over in Veronica''s direction. It was almost like she was trying to sink into the wall. Ignacio nodded.


    "Yes. And the technology they have in this facility is like nothing I''ve ever seen. At least, nothing I''ve seen in person. Some of it reminds me of Enve equipment. Any weapon based upon it would be catastrophic, no matter who imed it. It''s no wonder the Brotherhood wouldn''t give it up."


    "Do you think the Brotherhood of Steel knew about ARCHIMEDES?" I asked, ncing over in Veronica''s direction again; I couldn''t believe it, but she looked even <em>more</em> nervous than before.


    "I don''t know," Ignacio shook his head. "They weren''t here for me to ask. But I doubt they were here for electricity. The Brotherhood''s interest in Pre-War technology has always been in weapons, so it''s likely they were trying to reim ARCHIMEDES when the NCR arrived in force."


    "But, wait. Hang on," Arcade grabbed Ignacio by the shoulder to get his attention. "Are you saying the NCR doesn''t know about the weapon?"


    "Not yet. By some miracle, they''ve hired an imbecile to try and decipher the systems here. He''s spent months working at one console, trying to get the sr reflectors to track the sun. What he doesn''t know is that the only thing that console controls is the nt''s PA system."


    "Seriously?" I asked, holding back a chuckle. He just nodded.


    "I tried to tell him, but he insisted that thergest console had to be the most important. Still... it''s only a matter of time before someone figures out exactly what ARCHIMEDES does, and presses the ''on'' switch..."


    "Well now..." I said, rubbing my chin. "That changes thendscape considerably..."

 Chapter 66: ARCHIMEDES II

    Chapter 66: ARCHIMEDES II


    <em>Wee back to the program. Got some E Fitzgerald and Louis Armstronging upter, but first up: some news. NCR officials are urging travelers to avoid Searchlight for the foreseeable future. ording to a First Sergeant who wishes to remain anonymous, Legion troops set off a dirty bomb recently, flooding the town with radiation and turning most of the troops stationed there into packs of feral ghouls. If you do need to travel down that way, be sure to bring three things: your Geiger counters, plenty of Rad-X, and a shotgun. That''s the news this hour, thank you all for listening.</em>


    "You know, I''ve been meaning to ask," I said to Veronica as the three of us stepped out of the main building and back into the sun. "How <em>did</em> you manage to escape when the NCR took over this ce, anyway?"


    "Well... I wasn''t actually here during the attack," Veronica refused to look me in the eye. She''d refused to look me in the eye ever since Ignacio Rivas told us about ARCHIMEDES. "When the NCR arrived, I was at the 188 trading post. Even before we..." Veronica''s eyes subtly darted in Arcade''s direction. I don''t think he noticed. "...before we retreated underground, I still had to leave all the time to search for supplies. When I left, it felt like just another supply run, but when I came back, I counted two dozen NCR squads patrolling the area."


    "Two dozen <em>squads</em>? That would have to be 200 troops, easily! Are you sure?" I asked, not sure I believed it - especially with how empty this ce felt now. Veronica nodded, still refusing to look me in the eyes.


    "After evading the NCR patrols around Helios, I did the only thing I could think of: I went back to the 188. Eventually, I ran into Raymo- er, another procurement specialist like me, and reintegrated with the rest of the Brotherhood. Or... well. What was left of us, at any rate..."


    "I''m not concerned with that," Arcade said, grabbing Veronica by the shoulder and turning her around. I was surprised - in fact, I think Veronica must have been, too. I can''t see any other way Arcade would''ve been able to bring her to a halt like that. "I''m more concerned with what you know - and what you haven''t told us."


    "What do you mean?" Veronica''s voice wavered slightly - she knew <em>exactly</em> what he meant. Arcade''s expression just became more furious.


    "No. No more games," I don''t quite know how he was able to do it (since the two of them were about the same height), but Arcade seemed to loom over her considerably as he shouted. "ARCHIMEDES. You knew about this before we came here, didn''t you? Why didn''t you tell us? What else are you hiding from us?" I had to stop this, before it went too far.


    "Alright, hang on, back off a minute," I stepped between the two of them, and did my best to guide Arcade away from her. "No need to get all confrontational, Arcade. Give her a chance to exin." I turned to Veronica, and did my best to send her a look that I hoped would convey ''now would be a good time to exin,'' without actually saying anything.


    "I... I was never actually told what ARCHIMEDES was," Veronica said eventually. "I don''t think Elijah trusted anyone other than himself with any of the research. And if he did... Operational security would''vee first. I didn''t need to know, so I was never told."


    "So... what? Does the Brotherhood just keep its people in the dark then?" I asked, a bit confused by that little crumb of data. Veronica shrugged.


    "For all the weapons the Brotherhood possess, information is the most potent. The fewer people who know something, the safer the information bes. All I knew for certain was that there was something named ARCHIMEDES inside Helios, and Elijah seemed to think it was important. I swear, that''s the truth."


    "Uh-huh," Arcade didn''t look convinced. Veronica, on the other hand, seemed to grow back into herself.


    "Look, when we decided toe here, I was under the impression we were just going to steal some sr panels, not restart the generators!" Veronica balled her hands into fists and advanced on Arcade. "And even if I <em>had</em> known that''s what your game was in getting us in here, I <strong>still</strong> wouldn''t have told you! Why? Because it''s something I didn''t think you needed to know about! It''s like your friend Ignacio said: some things are best left buried with the old world!"


    "And I think if we''re potentially dealing with some kind of weapon, then we have a right to know about it!" Arcade yelled back, trying to cut in around me.


    "Alright, both of you calm the fuck down!" I jumped in again, keeping them both at arms length away from me and practically grabbing them both by their respective cors. I really did not want to keep ying referee. "We''ve got a job to do here. I say we get going and do it, and we''ll worry about sorting out all this ''nobody told me this'' bullshitter! The pair of you need to stop acting like children! Understand?"


    A tense silence hung heavy in the air as the two of them red at each other. Eventually, I let go and both of them started to slowly back away from my outstretched arms.


    "We good?" I asked, looking from Arcade to Veronica and back again.


    "Yeah, we''re good," Arcade said. It was obvious that he was already starting to cool down considerably.


    "We''re good. I won''t cause any more problems..." Veronica muttered something iprehensible and inaudible under her breath, but I could guess what it was. Honestly, I didn''t think it mattered at this point. As long as I could get them to <em>act</em> civil to one another...


    "Alright, first things first," I brought up my Pip Boy, and switched on a familiar radio frequency. "ED-E, you around?" Immediately, ED-E''s familiar beeping sounded off, followed swiftly by the flying metal ball appearing out of thin air with a belch of ozone. "Good. I''m going to need your help in a bit. Veronica," I turned to face her. "Lead on. You said you know where the spare sr panel parts are kept, so lets go find them."


    I was surprised. Finding all the spare parts hadn''t been difficult at all. I thought it was going to be a lot more...plicated than it was. I guess it just seemed easy because of Veronica''s extensive knowledge of the area, but I think the list of supplies Raul had written up for us to find before we left may have helped as well. Granted, the list was in Spanish, so Veronica had to help trante.


    Of course she spoke Spanish. I actually felt bad for not picking up on that before now, but given that herst name was Santangelo, it made sense. Maybe she could teach me some wordster, so I''m not so in the dark when Raul gets going...


    Veronica grabbed the edges of the bup tarp the parts were sitting on, and started tying the corners together. I reached down to help her, and soon we had arge sack full of spare parts, closed off by a metal sp attached to a chain, all consolidated and ready for transport.


    "Question is, how are we going to get this out of here?" Veronica asked, stepping back to examine the haul. "I mean, this isn''t exactly subtle. If we try and carry this out the front door..." She looked down at the bag, which reached up to her waistline, and was three times as wide as both of us put together. "...yeah, <em>someone</em> is going to notice."


    "Who says we''re taking it out the front door?" I asked, hitting a button on my Pip Boy. "You cane out now." With a belch of ozone and a crack of electricity, ED-E materialized in the air above us. "Hey buddy. Think you can help us get this out of here without the NCR noticing?" ED-E beeped happily, and followed it up with a some confident marching music. The eyebot shook up and down in ce, almost like he was nodding. "Awesome. Thanks." I took the end of the chain holding the sack together, and hooked it onto a smalltch on the underside of his chassis. "Take this to Raul. Fly fast, and stay out of sight. You see anything dangerous like raiders, Legion, or anything else, I want you to fly as high as you can and stay out of range. Don''t take any stupid risks, got it?" I patted his chassis for good measure.


    "In other words, just make sure you don''t do anything Sheason <em>would</em>," Veronica added with a smirk. ED-E beeped once more before lifting off without another sound. In an instant, the eyebot and the package of spare parts had cleared the fence and were soaring through the air and off to the north until all I could see was a small shiny speck in the sky. Before he disappearedpletely, my Pip Boy beeped, and when I looked down, I saw a single message on the screen: "Fly Far Fly Fast."


    "Don''t do anything I would?" I asked, lowering my Pip Boy and raising an eyebrow at Veronica. She shrugged.


    "It''s like Arcade said earlier, you are a bullshit ma. And you have to admit, he''s got a point."


    "Maybe... " I sighed. Part of me wanted to argue, but most of me... my life had just gotten so <em>weird</em>tely, that maybe being called a bullshit ma was appropriate. "Whatever. Let''s find Arcade. With any luck, he''s figured out what we need to do to turn this ce back on."


    "Alright V, what can we expect down here?" I asked, as the heavy metal door slid shut behind us. Arcade had figured out what to do all right; he''d unlocked both terminals on the outside, and opened up the only hatch that led into the tower in the center of the sr panel field. I thought it was going to lead into an elevator... but instead, it opened onto a set of stairs, going <em>down</em>, not up. I was getting that sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach again... I had a bad feeling about this.


    "It could be any number of things," she said, taking point down the wide staircase as the three of us descended into the darkness. "Ignacio and that ''Fantastic'' idiot both mentioned some kind of security system, and a few soldiers being killed thest time they tried to enter here... and knowing Elijah, there could be any number of things in our way."


    "Great," I said, grabbing the marksman carbine off my back. If we were heading into a fight, I wanted to be ready. "Any suggestions?"


    "Yeah," Veronica reached into her robe, and pulled out two magazines that looked like they would fit the carbine in my hands. "Use these." I grabbed them, taking a look at the rounds inside. Sure enough, they looked like 5.56mm rifle rounds, but I could tell that these weren''t standard ammunition: the rounds loaded in these magazines had ck painted tips.


    "Armor piercing rounds?" I asked, loading in the new ammunition. Veronica nodded. We were almost at the end of the stairs when a terrifyingly deep voice echoed off all the metal walls.


    <strong>"SECURITY LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT. HOSTILE TARGETS ACQUIRED! COMMENCING NEUTRALIZATION!"</strong>


    "What is-" Arcade started to speak, but was interrupted by Veronica.


    "DOWN!" As she yelled, she grabbed the both of us by our respective cors, and all three of us ended up being thrown to the ground behind a nearby metal table. I was only able to keep hold of one of the magazines worth of armor piercing ammo; the other one flew out of my hand and slid across the metal floor well out of reach. The next thing I knew, the air above us was scorched by a trail of fire and the wall above me and to my right exploded in a shower of sparks, shrapnel and smoke.


    <strong>"ALERT: TARGET LOCK LOST. NEUTRALIZATION BY LETHAL FORCE REMAINS PRIMARY OBJECTIVE."</strong> I heard the huge, metallic, booming voice echo out when the noise from the explosion died down.


    "The fuck is that?!" I yelled, making sure what little ammo I had was loaded. If Veronica said anything in response, I couldn''t hear it. There was a whine like a jet turbine spinning up, and the air above us was filled with the sounds of hundreds of rounds flying through the air, turning the wall behind us into swiss-cheese. Whatever it was, it must have been using a minigun, because I couldn''t think of any other kinds of guns that fired that fast.


    Shit, a minigun and a missileuncher? What the fuck was this thing?


    <strong>"YOU HAVE ENTERED A SECURITY ZONE. LETHAL FORCE MAY BE USED WITHOUT FURTHER WARNING!"</strong> The voice boomed during a pause in the barrage of bullets.


    "Where was the first fucking warning?!" I did my best to get off the floor, and practically welded my back to the desk we were hiding behind. I''m just d it was metal... but if it keptying on the fire... The whine returned, and more bullets flew through the air, causing hundreds of shattered pieces of wall to rain down on us.


    "Sentry bot!" I could barely hear Veronica trying to shout over the noise as she peeked around the desk. "Aim for the head! I''ll try and draw the fire!" And without a second word (not that I could really hear her anyway) she ran out of cover faster than I thought was possible. The hail of bullets tried to follow her, and chewed up the ground as she ran. A cloud of smoke, sparks, and shrapnel obscured her from viewpletely.


    "Veronica!" I shouted, despite knowing that I''d never be heard over the noise. The fire paused, but the smoke refused to clear.


    <strong>"ADDING TARGET TO THREAT MATRIX,"</strong> The robot bellowed. <strong>"REANALYSIS COMPLETE: THREAT LEVEL: RED."</strong> There was a streak of fire, followed by a massive explosion somewhere in the direction Veronica had run. Nothing else for it; I slipped into VATS, and looked up over the desk and out of cover.


    I don''t know if it was a good or bad thing that VATS was activated; the sensation of time slowing to a crawl gave me plenty of time to line up a shot, but it also gave me quite the opportunity to appreciate just what was trying to kill us, and the sight was bowel-clenching. Before then, I''d never seen a sentry bot this close. The robot was basically a massive, vaguely-humanoid torso sitting on top of thick tripod legs, each of which ended in giant, treaded all-terrain wheels. It didn''t have a head so much as a reinforced bump set deeply in the center of the barrel-chested torso; it didn''t have eyes, so much as a row of four vertical red lenses. There was a missileuncher on the end of one arm, and a six-barrel Gatling gun on the end of the other. It didn''t look like a robot so much as a small <em>tank</em>.


    As soon as I lined up the carbine, I fired off as many shots as VATS would allow, aimed right at the thing''s... head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sh of green, and realized that Arcade was firing on the behemoth as well. Sparks flew off the metal with every shot, but... it didn''t even seem staggered. Several holes appeared in its chassis, but other than that...


    "Fuck!" I didn''t have any action points in VATS left, and shooting it in the <em>face</em> didn''t even stun it. So... n B. I ran out of cover and just kept shooting as I ran. I wasn''t really aiming, but, hell, the damn thing was so big, it''s not like I could-


    I felt an explosion rip up the ground behind me. My whole world flipped upside down, and I was thrown into a wall. At least, I think it was a wall. I know that when I was upside down, my back smashed into something hard that felt like a metal wall. I couldn''t hold on to the carbine. The next thing I knew, I was falling through a cloud of ash and dust and fire, with tiny pellets of hot shrapnel peppering me. I''m sure I must have looked stupid, iling around upside down, but by sheer luck I managed to grab onto... something. Maybe it was a cable or something. I don''t know, I didn''t really get a good look at it at the time, and by the time I <em>could</em> get a good look, I didn''t really care.


    So there I was, swinging through a cloud of smoke and ash threatening to choke me andpletely obscuring my vision, and by the time I burst out into the open air, that sentry bot''s voice echoed off everything metal and nted itself straight in my ear:


    <strong>"ALERT: TARGET LOCK LOST. BEGINNING SEARCH PATTERN DELTA-SEVEN." </strong>I let go and rolled as soon as I felt my feet hit the ground. The sound came from above me, which meant... I pulled the submachine gun from the harness under my arm, and pointed up above me as I got my footing; sure enough, there was the sentry bot on a catwalk about two stories above me, searching for targets. It didn''t look like it was able to look down.


    A burst of three green bolts of energy streaked through the air, impacting the side of the robot. It seemed more staggered than when I''d shot it, but it wasn''t enough to stop it. It just raised the minigun in the direction of the sma sts, and I could hear the minigun spinning up, ready to fire.


    <strong>"STATUS REPORT: YELLOW! PRIMARY SYSTEMS HAVE SUSTAINED SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE! REINFORCEMENT RECOMMENDED!" </strong>Before it fired at Arcade, I unloaded the SMG at the undercarriage of the robot. The bullets just seemed to bounce off the chassis harmlessly, but seemed like it was enough to get its attention. The sentry bot shifted its torso, and looked down at me through the grate it was standing on, pointing the still spinning minigun right at me.


    <strong>"TARGET LOCK STATUS: GREEN. RE-ENGAGING HOSTILE TARGET!"</strong> That nailed it. This thing could only focus on one target at a time. I hoped Arcade noticed that as well, because if we kept staggering the fire, then we might stand a chance of bringing this thing down. I popped off a few more shots at it and dove for some nearby cover. The ground where I was standing started getting ripped up by minigun fire. Amid the noise and fire, I heard more methane-pops of sma fire.


    I reloaded the SMG, and ran out of cover, ready toy down some more fire, when I looked up... and realized I didn''t have to. The sentry bot had stopped firing at either of us, because Veronica was standing on top of the robot''s shoulders, holding onto it''s head and riding it like brahmin bull at a rodeo. It was iling the gun arms uselessly and it was spinning its torso back and forth, trying to shake her off, but it was no use. Her power fist let out a huge burst of steam, and she brought it down onto the top of the robots metal head like a freight train. Sparks flew everywhere, and the metal torso seemed to rip apart from the inside, bursting open at every metal seam.


    <strong>"SYSTEMS FAIIIIILLLUR-UR-UR-URE! PRIMARY SYSSSSSSSSSSSS-" </strong>There was one final feeble burst of mechanical static, before Veronica reached down into the smoking metal innards and pulled out the voicebox, crushing it in her power fist. By the time I''d climbed the stairs to rejoin everyone, Veronica had dusted herself off, and recovered my rifle, and the lost magazine of armor-piercing ammo.


    "You dropped these," she said, handing them back to me with a smile.


    "Thanks," I grabbed the rifle, and checked to make sure the drop hadn''t messed up the sights. "So, Elijah activated sentry bots before he left, huh?"


    "Looks that way. There are probably more deeper in the facility, too."


    "Great," I tried to deadpan. "Why''d you tell me to shoot it in the head?"


    "No I didn''t," Veronica said, looking confused.


    "Are you sure?" I asked, trying to think back to a few minutes ago when we''d firste under fire. "I could have sworn you said that you were going to draw its fire, and that I should try and shoot it in the head."


    "No, I said <em>don''t</em> shoot it in the head," Veronica gave an exasperated sigh. "I just wanted you to draw the fire so I could get above it. The face on a sentry bot is one of the most heavily reinforced areas, you need to apply several thousand kilo newtons of force on a very specific point on its head to crack open a sentry bot skull."


    "Which you have," I added, putting the spare armor piercing ammo on my belt.


    "Which I have," Veronica smiled broadly, holding up her power fist. It let out a burst of steam, as if on cue.


    Things went far more smoothly, now that we knew exactly what we were up against. It wasn''t all sentry bots, though - there were maybe half a dozen protectrons, and those went down easily enough. Along the way, I even found some pulse grenades. It''s always handy to have a localized EMP coupled with a miniature electrical storm specifically engineered to fry electronics when you''re fighting robots. It saves so much ammunition!


    "How much further until we get to the mainframe?" I heard Arcade ask from behind me. Thest protectron fell to the ground with a tter.


    "I''m... not sure," Veronica said. Both Arcade and I stopped immediately and turned to look at her.


    "You don''t know?" I asked, trying not to sound skeptical.


    "What do you mean, you don''t know?" Arcade asked, a touch of anger peppering his voice. I started looking around - we''d been travelling steadily down for a while now, maybe there was a sign, an elevator, some kind of terminal...


    "I mean, I don''t know. I... I never actually came down to this part of Helios. This is beyond the restricted level Elijah had set up," While I searched, Arcade let out a sigh so heavy, I swear it was lined with tungsten.


    "Veronica, if you are holding out on us again..." Arcade was sounding pretty agitated, but I was only half-listening. One of the protectrons had fallen against what looked like an elevator door - which seemed promising.


    "Listen, you -" I heard Veronica clear her throat and exhale sharply through her nose somewhere behind me while I tried to move the broken robot. "Arcade. I think I have more of a reason to want to get there than you. If I knew anything useful, I would tell you."


    "Oh, you have a reason?" Arcade didn''t sound convinced. "I want to find the controls, so we can help get power to the people who need it. Why do you want to go down there, huh? So you can find some more old world toys and hand it over to the Brotherhood?"


    The elevator doors slid open with a creak, which meant that this ce at least had enough power for that... I dragged the broken robot in with me - if nothing else, I could use it as a chock to prop the door open while I checked out the buttons


    "I''m not going to hand ANYTHING to ANYONE!" Veronica started to shout. I had to figure this out quickly, before things came to blows. "I want to go down there to find out what ARCHIMEDES actually is-"


    "Of course, typical Brotherhood bloodhound!" Arcade cut her off with his best condescending sneer.


    "-so I can find out why it''s so <em>Goddamn important</em>!" Veronica kept shouting over him. "People I knew for years - good people, friends, family, my brothers and sisters in arms - a lot of men and women <em>died</em> defending this ce, before Elijah disappeared and McNamara signaled a retreat!" The air was silent between the two of them after Veronica made her point. "I''ll help you get the power nt up and running. I agree with you, the people out there need it more than The Strip and McCarran. All I want... are some answers. I want to know why so many of my friends had to... had to die."


    I peeked out of the elevator, pausing from my search to watch this unfold. The two of them were three or four paces away from one another, and it looked like they were both trying to stare each other down in the most intense game of "who is going to blink first" that I''ve ever seen. Well... at least, one that involved <em>actual</em> blinking, at any rate. Usually those games are metaphorical. But I digress.


    "And if the answers aren''t what you expect?" Arcade asked eventually.


    "Well..." Veronica slowly started nodding her head, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. "I guess... I''ll cross that bridge when Ie to it. Won''t I?"


    "Hey guys?" I tried to break the tension. It seemed to work, as I now had their attention. For the moment, at least. "I think I know where we need to go."


    The elevator doors ground open,plete with requisite dust cloud of rust and grime, and we were presented with the lovely view of arge room full of mainframes, cables, and terminals.


    "Damn, I was expecting more of a view," I said as I stepped out of the elevator door, looking around.


    "And why is that?" Arcade said, right on my heels.


    "Probably because the button said ''observation deck,'' am I right?" Veronica smiled and shrugged, looking around.


    "Alright, spread out. We can cover more ground that way, see if we can find what we''re all looking for. The controls to operate the power nt, information on ARCHIMEDES, we light this candle, then head back to Nellis for beer and steaks."


    "Beer and steak?" Arcade asked incredulously, moving to a nearby terminal. "Sheason, what have you been drinking to get that delusional? I mean, you know its a bad idea to drink irradiated water, right?"


    "Trust me, I talked to Gregory about it," I headed straight for one of the mainframes. There was a terminal on the front, but it seemed to be locked... shouldn''t be too hard to crack, though.


    "Who?" Veronica poked her head up from a terminal on the far side of the room.


    "Gregory, he''s... uh... I think he''s a chef. Or he could be a quartermaster, I dunno. Met him in the mess hall when I was wandering around yesterday. I was able to barter a case of beer off him, and he said that there was a barbeque I could borrow and some more beer once the sr array gets fixed."


    "Oh yeah?" Arcade had left his terminal and was heading up a set of stairs. "What''s in it for him?"


    "Steaks. I told him I was fair handy with a grill. He said I could borrow it, and suggested that when I got back, I use it to... <em>ingratiate</em> myself to the other Boomers. I said, sure, he supplies the grill and the booze, I''ll get the meat, we can throw ourselves a nice little shindig. I know a great spot, too, it''s up on the roof of the barracks. It already has the tables, the deck chairs, the tiki torches..."


    "Are you sure you haven''t been hitting the irradiated water?" Veronica asked, ducking down again. "Besides, you? Cook? I''ve been with this travelling circus of yours for a few weeks now, and I don''t think I''ve ever seen you cook <em>anything</em>."


    "Hey, hey! I''ve been on my own far longer than I''ve ever been hanging around other people! I know how to fry up a steak. Hell, I''ve probably been out in the wastes, cooking for longer than you''ve been alive!"


    "I''m 27," Veronica said indignantly.


    "My point stands." The terminal beeped - jackpot! I was in. Now I just needed to... "Damnit!"


    "What? What''s up?" Veronica hopped out from behind her terminal. Apparently, it sounded like I was actually in trouble? Who knew?


    "Well, I got into the system, but it''s not giving me any options. It says something about... low power or something? ''Please repair mainframe generator before attempting to ess power grid options.'' Do you know what that means?" I asked her. It looked like she was about to answer, when Arcade''s voice rang out in the room.


    "It means we''re going to be waiting for a while, so <em>this</em> thing can initiate repairs," He was standing at the top of the stairs on the second level, looking proud and smug. What startled me was the Mr. Handy that was floating toward me. The spherical, floating, octopus-armed robot with three eye stalks was honestly not something I was expecting to see.


    "Hullo, fellow Poseidon Energy employees!" The robot said in a tinny, enthusiastic voice. "This unit is programmed to respond to the designation PYTHON. Please, stand clear, whilst I attempt repairs!"


    "Uh... Arcade?" I asked, watching the robot float past me, the three jets on the underside of its chassis belching blue mes and jet exhaust. "Mind exining the robot?"


    "And why it thinks we work here?" Veronica added. Fair point, well made. By this point, Arcade had made his way downstairs, and I could see that he was holding a jet ck, not-quite rectangr card in his hand. He turned it so the light in the room reflected off it just enough for me to make out the wires and circuitry molded into the side.


    "Found this on our way down, after the 2nd or 3rd sentry bot. Before we found the room with six protectrons, remember? It''s a Poseidon Energy employee ID card. I scanned this in the back of his head, and now it thinks we all work here." Veronica and I looked at each other, then back to Arcade. I don''t know about her, but I was in shock.


    "How did you know how to do that?" Veronica finally asked. The only other sound in the room was from the Mr. Handy welding something off to the side and softly humming a metallic tune. "I thought you didn''t trust robots. How''d you know what to do?"


    "Lucky guess," Arcade shrugged. "So, while that''s working, we should have time to find out what ARCHIMEDES is."


    Poseidon Energy was certainly more than just a powerpany before the bombs dropped.


    That much was obvious, going through the files on the terminals here. One of them mentioned an ''uing'' visit (uing in this case meaning November 2077) by a Brigadier General Scott Lowe of the US Army. It also mentioned ARCHIMEDES by name, but it didn''t mention specifically what it was, what it did, or even where it might be.


    But that meant whoever was running the show here for this ARCHIMEDES project had serious pull with the pre-war military industrialplex if a General - even a one star - wasing to visit the power nt and was the ''only person here allowed to authorize its use for anything other than a test.''


    There was no doubt in my mind that ARCHIMEDES was a weapon of some kind. This was some serious bad news, and I was starting to get a really, <em>really</em> bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about all this.


    "Found anything yet?" I heard Arcade shout from... somewhere.


    "Yeah... yeah, I think I... I think I found something," Veronica''s voice echoed out from above us, on the second level of the observation deck. I made my way up the stairs, with Arcade right behind me, and we found Veronica standing in front of arge round table. It was illuminated blue, and had a lighted ring on the inside lip, with a grid pattern of lights criss-crossing over the table. Veronica was looking down at the table, but she was clutching a holotape next to her chest.


    "V?" I asked, pointing at the table. "You said you found something? Is this it?"


    "No. Well, yes... I mean... here. Take a look at this." She slid the holotape into a slot on the table, and it started to hum. The lights grew brighter, and suddenly there was a column of super fine mist hanging in the air directly above the table. Lights started projecting into the mist, and the next thing I knew, I was looking at a three-dimensional model of the Helios One power nt made out of light hovering above the table.


    "Is this a hologram?" Arcade asked, brushing a hand through the mist. The image flickered, but readjusted after his hand passed.


    "If it is, it''s certainly not as impressive as the holograms I saw at the Madre," I said, trying to figure out what this was. I folded my arms over my chest, and started scrutinizing the image. "What exactly are we supposed to be looking for here?"


    "It''s... it''s a recording. Of one of the ARCHIMEDES tests," Veronica said, swallowing hard. "Just, give it a few-"


    The image shifted. A small column of light appeared out of nowhere, from the top of the image to the bottom... and then it got wider, and wider, getting brighter. There was a sh, and... I think some of the effect may have been lost, as there was no sound, but a mushroom cloud was slowly rising from the spot on the ground where the beam of light impacted. On the edge of the holographic image, I saw that the power nt was still standing.


    "What... what was <em>that</em>?" Arcade spoke in a hushed whisper, his eyes transfixed on the tiny mushroom cloud made of light on the table. Veronica pressed a few buttons on the table, and the image shifted again. In ce of the power nt and the mushroom cloud, there was a picture of... well, at the time it looked like a someone had taken a bottle of scotch, drawn a few lines on the side of the bottle, and stuck a few sr panels to the side in the shape of wings.


    "<em>That</em> was the initial test of <em>this</em>. And <em>this</em> is ARCHIMEDES," Veronica said, pointing at the hologram. "It''s a satellite in geosynchronous orbit around the. It is a space basedser, powered by energy collected by this power station and sent to the orbital weapons tform by way of microwaves. I''m not sure how it finds a target, but the yield on impact is... well, you saw the mushroom cloud."


    "Jesus..." Arcade looked pale. "If someone got a hold of this... figured out how to activate or target it..." While he was busy contemting the ramifications of this superweapon, he waspletely unaware of Veronica hanging her head.


    "Veronica, are you alright?" I asked. She shook her head, and when she looked up at me, her face was screwed up, like she was trying to hold back...


    "No. No, I-I''m not. This is... not what I expected," Veronica sniffed loudly. "<em>This</em> is what they died for? This is nothing more than a piece of... This is..."


    "Dangerous," Arcade finished for her. "We can''t leave this here. It''s too dangerous. We''ve got to find some way to..."


    "It has to be destroyed," Veronica said, nodding her head up and sniffing once again. Her expression was stony and focused; she was directing a look of hatred and venom at the hologram in front of her.


    "Agreed," Arcade nodded, staring at the image, the same as Veronica. He didn''t have quite the level of hatred in his eyes as Veronica, but it was surprising enough that the two of them actually agreed on something.


    "Okay," I said, pping my hands together in a vain attempt at trying to get these two to focus. "Let''s concentrate on what we know. We now know exactly what ARCHIMEDES does, and why it''s a bad idea to just leave it sitting here, and we all seem to agree that destroying this is the best option. Right. Good. Now. Do either of you have any ideas on how we can deal with this little problem, and make sure it can''t be used to hurt people?" And make sure that neither the NCR or Caesar''s Legion can get their hands on an orbital weapons tform, I didn''t need to say. Both of them nodded. That was a good sign.


    "The terminals up here are pretty sophisticated... give me half an hour, and I think I can program a virus that will erase any mention of ARCHIMEDES from all of the Helios databases," Arcade said, stroking his chin. He turned to Veronica. "That is... if I had help."


    "Don''t worry, I''ll help with the code," Veronica nodded. "As soon as I''m finished with... what I need to do."


    "Do I even want to know?" I asked.


    "Even if we wipe out any mention of ARCHIMEDES, the satellite is still up there. I need to see if there''s any kind of control console that would get me ess to the satellites thrusters that keep it in orbit." Veronica grimaced, like this whole idea was suddenly unappealing. "It... it''s too dangerous to just stay up there. It''s got toe down."


    "Isn''t the Brotherhood''s mission to preserve the technology of the old world?" Arcade asked, apparently not buying her story. "Isn''t this sort of a... conflict of interest?"


    "Yeah, well..." Veronica shrugged, and shook her head. "I think... this is a piece of the old world that we can do without."


    "Alright, I think we have a n. Arcade, get working on that virus. V, you try and find that control panel - I''m sure it''s up here somewhere. Meanwhile, I''m gonna go check on the octopus-bot, see if that''s finished. If it is, great, we can turn on the power and get the <strong>fuck</strong> out of here."


    A little more than half an hourter, all three of us were on the top floor of the needle in the center of the power nt, standing in front of a console mounted on the railing. Standing there, I was afforded the best view of the field of sr panels beneath me, with the horizon stretching out for miles below me.


    "You know, <strong>this</strong> should have beenbeled the observation deck, I think..." I said, admiring the view. I was going over everything in my brain, trying to figure out if there were any loose ends we''d missed.


    Arcade and Veronica had programmed the virus and unleashed it on the system, which means that there was no more mention of ARCHIMEDES anywhere on anyputer system anywhere in Helios. That was one.


    Veronica eventually found the terminal that had direct ess to the satellite, and ordered a total shutdown of all its primary systems. She said it wouldn''t be immediate, but now that it wasn''t going to make any more course adjustments during flight, the satellite would fall into Earth''s gravity field and burn up in the upper atmosphere. Apparently, we were in for quite a show in a few hours. That was two.


    Finally, there was my job. There were several options on the power grid, but I sent the power exactly where the NCR and Fantastic <em>didn''t</em> want it to go: Freeside, and Outer Vegas. Knowing Fantasic (though, I honestly wish I didn''t) they wouldn''t catch on for several months. If they ever caught onto it at all. So that was three.


    "Well?" Arcade asked. I turned to look at him questioningly.


    "Well, what?" I asked.


    "Are you going to throw the switch or not? Reconfiguring the grid isn''t going to do anything until you align the panels properly."


    "Can''t a guy just... enjoy the view for a few minutes?" I said with a smirk, only half joking. It really <em>was</em> a nice view.


    "Just flip the switch, for pete''s sake," Veronica said, leaning over me and grabbing the lever. There was a loud clunk, as things started to change very quickly - I looked down, and saw every single sr panel start to slowly adjust themselves.


    "Oh! Wait! I almost forgot!" Arcade started fishing around in hisbcoat. I looked at him... and then I looked again, a bit confused. Was Arcade wearing sunsses? Sure enough, he pulled out a pair and handed them to me.


    "Why would I need sun-" As I spoke, I turned back to look at the scenery and immediately wished I hadn''t. I was practically blinded by the assault of sunlight.


    "MY EYES!" I shouted as I clutched at my face, trying to ignore the rapidly growing headache from the sight of the sun reflected directly into my face by several hundred sr panels pointing directly at the collection tower.


    For some reason, the name "Manfred Mann" passed through my head as I tried to will my sight back.


    Not entirely sure why.

 Chapter 67: Beer and Steak

    Chapter 67: Beer and Steak


    <em>Good afternoon, Mojave Wastnd! It''s me again, Mr. New Vegas, reminding you that you''re nobody til somebody loves you, and that somebody is me. I love you. Word out of Camp Golf is that many NCR Rangers can expect re-deployment in the near future. One anonymous soldier said it was part of a new strategy. And now,dies and gentlemen, this next song goes out from me to you. Have you ever been in love with a celebrity? Now, don''t be shy... I feel it between us, too. Sometimes you just can''t help being Mad About The Boy.</em>


    Getting back to Nellis was... pretty uneventful. Nobody shot at us, at any rate. For the first mile or so, things were abnormally quiet between the three of us. The Jeep trundled us along at a steady chug; the dull pounding of the diesel engine provided a heavy background noise to the ufortable silence.


    "Hey, V?" I said, when the simultaneous noise and silence got too much to bear. "You alright?" Veronica didn''t answer for a long while. She had her elbow propped on the edge of the door, and her chin was resting on the palm of her hand. She was watching the cracked and brokenndscape roll past.


    "I... I''ll be... fine." She paused, then added: "Actually, no. No, I''m pretty far from alright."


    "That makes sense," I heard Arcade say from behind me. "I mean... I can see how destroying ARCHIMEDES would be a big no-no as far as the Brotherhood was concerned."


    "Uh..." Veronica quietly took her elbow away from the door, and she started leaning back in her seat, looking up at the sky. "Technically no. That''s not the issue."


    "What do you mean, technically no?" I asked. Veronica shrugged, and when she spoke up again, it was... she had the tone of voice of someone just parroting off something they had memorized by rote.


    "One of the primary ts of The Codex states that if a particrly valuable - or dangerous - piece of the Old World cannot be retrieved or properly defended, then it must be destroyed to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands," She sounded just so... emotionally drained. It was like she couldn''t even put inflection in her words. "I don''t think ARCHIMEDES was destroyed during the retreat because... well, frankly, I don''t think Elijah told anyone what it was. Otherwise, Hardin or McNamara would have blown up the whole facility once the order to retreat had been given. Probably."


    "Still..." Arcade paused, thinking on it. "I hate to say it, but that rule makes a lot of sense. I didn''t know that about the Brotherhood." Veronica shifted in her seat, and gave Arcade a tired look.


    "There''s a lot you don''t know about the Brotherhood, Arcade."


    "Fair enough..." Arcade shifted ufortably in his seat.


    "You said probably?" I asked, wondering if Arcade hadn''t picked up on that, or intentionally let it go. Veronica shrugged again.


    "It''s been a very, <em>very</em> long time since any Chapter Elder has had to destroy something that dangerous. At least... as far as I know. Usually the Brotherhood thinks that, no matter what, anything can be reimed at some point in the future if it''s lost."


    "If it makes you feel any better, Veronica..." Arcade leaned forward in his seat, "...we did the right thing back there."


    "I know we did," V started nodding.


    "So, what''s wrong?" I asked. I thought she was silent and down because we had to destroy ARCHIMEDES. She was silent for a long time.


    "When I reintegrated with the... survivors, one of the first things I did was review the operational reports. I wanted to piece together what happened, and what went wrong for myself. And it... I always thought that we fought so hard, and so many people lost their lives, because Helios was sheltering something truly important. A game changer. This whole time, I thought that because... well, because of the one time I tried asking Elijah what ARCHIMEDES was. All he said was that activating it would be like the deployment of longbows at the Battle of Agincourt."


    "The battle of what?" I asked. She was saying words, but they meant nothing.


    "Look, nevermind!" Veronica sighed, and buried her head in one of her hands. "The point is... this wasn''t what I thought it was at all! ARCHIMEDES was never a game changer - it was just a piece of glorified artillery! And not even reliable artillery at that!" Veronica sighed, and shook her head. "I saw some of the data before we wiped the files, and at its best, Poseidon Energy could only ever get it to work once every 24 hours."


    "Still, it was an orbital superweapon. Seems like that''s a small problempared-" Veronica cut me off before I could finish.


    "That wasn''t the only problem. That mushroom cloud we saw in the recording? It may have looked impressive, but it only had a st yield of about five tons of TNT. Not to mention that the rangefinder - the device needed to actually give that ''spaceser'' a target - only worked if you were outside, and if the skies were clear. It could be defeated by a <strong>cloudy day</strong>."


    "Wait, I''m still confused," Arcade spoke up. "Why are you so upset about all of this?"


    "Because ARCHIMEDES wasn''t <em>worth it</em>!" Veronica let out a single heavy sigh. "ording to the reports I read, the NCR troops sent to assault Helios outnumbered us 50 to 1. The initial defense of the nt took ce over fourteen hours once the NCR started sending in troops. After Elijah disappeared in the chaos and confusion of the fighting, and McNamara took operational control, he made sure the nt was held for <em>three more hours</em> before finally signaling the retreat. Over seventeen hours, my friends and family died trying to defend Helios. And in the end, it was lost, and we were forced to escape. All of that... all that death and loss, and for what? A piece of the Old World that was shy and impressive... butpletely impractical and useless."


    The dull thrum of the engine hung heavy in the air, like a lead nket, for a few minutes.


    "It''s not your fault, Veronica," Arcade finally spoke up. "You couldn''t have done anything. There''s no way you could have known. In fact..." Arcade gave a tiny little cough, like he was clearing his throat. "I want to apologize for, er... what I said earlier. I''m sorry I used you of holding out on us. That was a shitty thing for me to do, and I apologize."


    "... Thanks," Veronica gave him a small nod, and she went back to trying to sink into her seat.


    When the three of us rolled back into Nellis, my first thought was to head to the sr array - with any luck, ED-E would have brought back all the parts to Raul and everything was now fixed. But I was a bit distracted along the way by a very odd sight on the main runway.


    "Uh... what are they doing?" Arcade asked, taking the words out of my mouth.


    "Don''t look at me, I have no idea," Veronica peered around the windshield, looking as confused as I felt.


    I''d stopped the car just short of the airstrip, and stretching from one end of the pavement to the other was a whole bunch of Boomers, all shoulder to shoulder, and walking from one end to the other in about three lines. Men, women, children, old people... it almost looked like everyone living here was walking along the runway. They were all advancing very slowly, staring down at the pavement as they marched from one end to the other. asionally, one of them would bend down to pick something up off the tarmac - and as they did so, one of the Mr. Gutsy robots hovering along the perimeter would zip through the air to the Boomer with a bag hooked around one of their metal ws. Whatever that Boomer had picked up would go in the bag, and then they''d both be on their way again.


    It was all very orderly and precise, but I couldn''t for the life of me figure out what they were all doing, or why.


    "Maybe we should ask Raquel?" Veronica spoke up, sitting back in her seat and pointing to a spot on the edge of one of the advancing lines, near a group of Mr. Gutsys. I nodded, driving the Jeep to a spot just shy of the Boomer''s Master-At-Arms.


    "Hey, uh, Raquel?" I asked, She paused at the noise. "What''s going on?" She nced over her shoulder at me.


    "Oh, it''s you, Outsider. Good, it looks like you brought the Jeep back in one piece. We''re just -" As she spoke, she turned to face me fully, and then stopped mid-sentence when she got a good look at the vehicle. "What is that?" She asked, pointing behind me.


    "Huh? Oh! what, you''ve never seen a bighorner before?" I pointed a thumb in the direction of the giant dead animal strapped to the back of the Jeep.


    "I have, but..." She stared at it, blinking her one good eye. "Why has it got no head?"


    "I needed to punch something," Veronica answered with a shrug.


    "Why do you have a bighorner carcass strapped to the back of my jeep?" Raquel asked, her eye never straying from the giant wooly b of meat.


    "Well, what else am I going to use when I borrow that barbeque from Gregory? There weren''t any wild brahmin between Helios One and here, and I''m not all that fond of giant ant meat."


    "That''s too bad, it''s not like there''s a shortage of ant meat," Arcade chimed in. "I mean, what with that colony you cleared out yesterday."


    "Skin the sucker," I continued, trying to ignore Arcade, "carve it up, season it, put in on the fire... that''s some good eatin'' right there." I finally turned the engine off; I had a feeling that we were going to be here for a while, and one of the most annoying sounds in the world is a diesel idling. "Alright, so I exined my oddness. Your turn."


    "Huh?" Raquel seemed to mimic my expression from a few seconds ago. I pointed behind her at the line of Boomers slowly advancing along the airstrip.


    "All this walking along in a line, picking up stuff. Why are you guys doing housework on a stretch of concrete tarmac outside?" I asked.


    "Oh! That, yeah. It''s the FOD walk." Raquel said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.


    "The what now?" I looked back and forth between Veronica and Arcade. They both seemed to shrug.


    "FOD walk. Eff-Oh-Dee, FOD. It''s a tradition we do every Wednesday."


    "Is it Wednesday?" Veronica asked under her breath, and started to count her fingers. "I can''t remember... what day is it?" Honestly, I couldn''t give her too much guff. Sometimes I forget what day it is when I''m under undue stress... and shes been through a lot today.


    "But, what for?" I asked. "What''s a FOD walk?"


    "No idea," Raquel said with a shrug.


    "Come again?" Arcade asked from behind me before I got a chance to say anything.


    "When the first of us arrived on the Nellis Homnd decades ago, we found dozens of intact US Army Operations Manuals scattered all over the base. They outlined various tasks and procedures the soldiers and airmen who were stationed here needed to do to keep the base up and running smoothly. None of the books exin the why, just the what and the how, but we''d like to keep the Homnd running as smoothly as we can. So, we perform as many of the tasks in the manuals as we can."


    "Is that why you y Reveille in the morning and Retreat in the evening over the loudspeakers?" Veronica asked. Was that the name of the bugle call I''d heardst night then? Must have been, since Raquel nodded.


    "Exactly. Plus, it helps us keep in sync, and alerts everyone to the start and end of the duty day. Anyway, every Wednesday, every one of us who isn''t busy with more essential tasks gets together on the flightline to perform the FOD walk," She turned away from us and looked back at the line of Boomers. "I don''t know what the original purpose may have been, but I like to think of it as a great team building exercise. Helps to reinforce the sense ofmunity. Besides, it''s something the little ones can do to make themselves useful," Raquel turned back and smiled - or, the half of her face not covered in burns smiled. "They like to help out."


    At that moment, ED-E appeared from out of the sky, and started zipping around the Jeep. He let out a trio of beeps, and settled into azy orbit around us.


    "Hey buddy!" I said, trying to watch as he zoomed through the air around us. "Did Rauel get all the spare parts installed?" The eyebot whistled and beeped twice in the affirmative. "Great, that''s excellent news!"


    "That reminds me," Raquel cleared her throat. "Mother Pearl and Loyal sent word earlier. They want to talk to you in the old Headquarters building. It''s just south of the hospital, across the street from the burned-out chapel."


    "Got it," I turned the Jeep''s engine back on, and it thundered into life with a steady drum beat of thuds. "I''ll head there now."


    "I think you should drop the Jeep off at the motorpool first, Outsider." Raquel turned to try and catch up with the line of Boomers on the FOD walk. "I''d appreciate if it <em>didn''t</em> smell like dead bighorner any longer than it has to."


    The headquarters building was very... unassuming. It was a squat one-story building, with only mild deterioration and a few cracks around the edges. There wasn''t even a name on it, like the hospital. All I saw when I got close was a gpole with two gs: a tattered US g, and a blue g with a crudely stitched yellow "34" in the middle. There was a Boomer guarding the front door who directed me where Pearl could be found.


    "Ah, d you could make it, Courier!" Mother Pearl opened the door of one of the offices in the headquarters building, and pulled me inside. Loyal was there, sitting at therge table in the center of the room, pouring over maps and files. "Please,e in, have a seat. There are things we must discuss."


    "Things?" I asked, looking around the room. This looked like an old conference room. I half expected this to be themanders office. Pearl just smiled, and patted me on the shoulder as I sat at the big table.


    "You have done well to earn the trust of my people, child," Pearl said, sitting across from me. "I believe the time hase for you to show your value in full. Tea?" She offered a te of tea and... were those cookies?


    "I''m good," I said, waving off the te. "What did you have in mind?" Loyal and Pearl looked at each other.


    "Pearl and I have been talking, Outsider..." Loyal cleared his throat, and started spreading out the papers he''d been going over on the table between us. "And we feel that it''s time to tell you about the Lady in the Water." I nodded slowly at the time... I''d definitely heard that before.


    "Yeah, I think Pete mentioned that before. The Lady in the Water... what is it, exactly?" I asked.


    "It was a B-29. A long time ago - long before the war the killed just about everything that ever lived - a B-29 crashed in Lake Mead. Pretty damn near intact, from what we could tell..." Loyal pointed at an old printout that he slid across the table in my direction. It looked like... it was ck and white, and... it looked like I was seeing the silhouette of a ne from above.


    "Is this what I think it is?" I asked. Loyal nodded, and tapped on the picture of the bomber several times.


    "This is a satellite picture I found, along with some files and a magazine. We know exactly where itnded, and it''s been in the same spot since July 21st, 1948." I looked over the pictures and files Loyal was sliding my way, but something was bothering me about this.


    "If it''s been in theke for 300 plus years, how do you know it hasn''t dissolved to a fine mist?" Loyal shook his head.


    "Lake Mead is a freshwaterke. There''s shouldn''t be any danger of salt corrosion - maybe a bit of algae, but other than that it should be fine."


    "Maybe," I said with a shrug. "But even if it''s preserved, it''s not going to fly."


    "The Lady isn''t the only bomber we know about," Pearl said, biting a biscuit in half and taking a sip of her tea.


    "There was another B-29, part of a museum exhibit that we found near here. Do you remember the heap of junk I was working on when I gave you the sonic device?" I nodded, thinking back to the tube of metal in the other hangar. "It couldn''t fly, because most of the important electronics were taken out... but it had a lot of spare parts, and the fusge was almostpletely intact. See where I''m going with this?"


    "I think so..." I said with a smirk. "You want me to take a trip to Lake Mead to try and raise the bomber, so you can get that bird in the air." Loyal nodded slowly, and started to look... a bit pensive, if I''m honest. More serious than usual.


    "Since I was a young man, I''ve dreamed of raising that Lady from theke and bringing her back to life. What do you say?"


    "I think I''d like to know how you expect me to raise a giant metal ne from the bottom of theke," I said, trying to think back to when Cass, Veronica and I had visited Pete at the museum. Hadn''t Veronica said something about raising the bomber? What did she say... I couldn''t remember.


    "It''s simple! All you''d have to do is attach some deployable bast to the underside of the ne, and then float it on up! Here," Loyal reached into his jacket and ced a small ck trigger on the desk, sliding it toward me. "That''s a remote detonator. Once the bast is attached, just hit the trigger on the detonator from the shore, and let buoyancy handle the rest!"


    "So, you''re going to get me the deployable bastter then?" I asked, turning the detonator over in my hands. It was pretty nondescript, with a red trigger guard over the button. Loyal nodded happily. "Alright, I''m game. Any ideas on how to get to the bottom of theke without drowning myself?"


    "Might try holding your breath," Loyal chuckled and gave a shrug. I just kept staring at him. He cleared his throat, and adjusted the goggles sitting on his forehead. "Well, if that doesn''t sound good enough, talk to Jack. I think he was working on a rebreather once. He might be able to help you with something."


    "Well, it seems like you''ve got everything figured out..." I scratched my beard, looking over all the information. "But this ne is pretty far into theke. How do you expect me to get there? Swim?"


    "I think I can help with that," Pearl smiled, sipping her tea. "I talked to Raquel earlier, and she said since you returned the Jeep in one piece, she''d allow you to borrow one of our Deuce-And-A-Half trucks, loaded up with a RHIB."


    "A what?"


    "RHIB," Pearl said again. "A Rigid Hulled Intable Boat. It''s something the military used during exercises before the war. We don''t really get out much, so we don''t have much need of a boat. But I think you might find it useful." Pearl smiled at me, taking a final sip of her tea.


    "Gotta hand it to ya, Shea," Cass said, looking around the roof of the barracks. "When y''said y''were holdin'' a party on th'' roof, I didn''t think y''were serious." She looked a lot better, and was no longer wearing a bandage on her head. She must have been feeling better too, because she was back to drinking like a fish. She took another slug from her whiskey bottle as she looked out at the crowd of people collected here.


    "Well, you know me," I chuckled, flipping over one of the steaks. "I like to specialize in the ridiculous."


    The roof of the barracks was much more... crowded than it was the other night. Gregory, Pearl, and Raquel must have really spread the word around, because there were dozens of Boomers up here. Arcade, Veronica, Boone, and Raul were around here. Somewhere. I couldn''t see them through the mass of people and lit tiki torches. ED-E, on the other hand, was happily flitting above the crowd.


    "You enjoying the grill?" I felt a thick hand p me across the back, followed swiftly by a slightly portly ck man grinning at me. He didn''t have a flight jacket like most of the other Boomers around, and his vault jumpsuit was only zipped halfway up his chest.


    "Gregory! Yeah, this is a great barbeque - most creative use for an oil drum I''ve ever seen. Where''d you get all this charcoal, anyway?" I asked, poking at one of the half dozen steaks I had over the fire.


    "Forget about it. Didn''t you say you had a special way of cooking these you wanted to show me?"


    "Oh! Right!" I turned to Cass, still drinking her whiskey. "Cass, think I could borrow a shotgun shell?" She was halfway through a drink when she paused, eyeing me suspiciously.


    "Why?"


    "Trust me, I got something cool to show you," I held out my hand and gave her my best shit-eating grin. She didn''t seem convinced... but grabbed a shell off her belt and handed me one anyway. "Thanks, Cass." I pulled the brass head off with my teeth, and tapped the case, sprinkling buckshot and gunpowder on one of the uncooked bs of meat waiting to be put on the grill.


    "Uh... y''sure this is safe?" Cass asked, backing up slowly. Gregory, on the other hand, just looked more interested.


    "Don''t worry, I saw this in a movie once," I pped the steak on the grill, and BOOM! There was a sh, a bang, and a huge cloud of hot smoke sted me in the face. I waved the smoke away as best I could. "Ah-heh-heh... Aw yeah! sh grills it in seconds, and tenderizes the meat all in one!"


    Things had suddenly be incredibly quiet. Well... less noisy than before. I looked around, and realized that Gregory was staring at me, with a stupidly wide grin on his dark face. About two dozen other Boomers were gathered around him as well, all staring at me with the same expression... and then they all broke into tumultuous apuse and cheers.


    "That was awesome!" I heard from somewhere in the crowd, along with a round of "Do that again!" and "Damn, that looks fun!"


    "You are nuts, Shea," Cass just shook her head andughed. "You are seriously outta yer fuckin'' mind."


    "Maybe," I shrugged, peppering the uncooked side of the steak with the rest of the gunpowder. There was another sh and a burst of smoke when I flipped the steak over, followed by more cheering. I waved off the smoke, and turned back to Cass, grinning as wide as I could. "Of course, if you guys want more like that, I''m gonna need more shotgun shells." Cass looked unimpressed and rolled her eyes.


    "Alright, fine. But yer gonna owe me fer all that ammo yer wastin'', Shea."


    "Thanks babe," I winked at her. "You''re the best."


    Several hourster, all the meat was gone. As it turns out, the Boomers really liked the taste of the steaks I''d nuked. Gregory said he was going to try that next time he got his hands on some steaks. The best part was that all those shotgun shells Cass let me use certainly made the cooking of the steaks go a whole lot faster, so I had more time to enjoy the party.


    Before anyone asks, no, I didn''t ''nuke'' the ribs. My one regret about the ribs is that I didn''t have <em>more</em> time to slow cook them. They were still good, just not... fall-off-the-bone good.


    Of course, just because I wasn''t cooking any more meat didn''t mean that the party was over. Far from it. Someone had found a keg from somewhere, and someone <em>else</em> had found an old rusty boom-box. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and there was even some dancing going on in the center of the roof... or was it a fight? I couldn''t tell from my spot on the edge of the roof.


    "You''re Sheason Fisher, right?" I heard a voice out of the darkness from somewhere to my right. I didn''t answer him right away, because he caught me right in the middle of finishing off my beer. I set down the ss, and looked at the new arrival, and there were three things about him that immediately stood out to me: his hair waspletely shaved except for a short mohawk, he was wearing a pair of sunsses (despite the sun having set), and he was wearing a ne visible through his partially zipped up Vault Jumpsuit. Except unlike the nes of spent rifle casings that Pearl and Loyal wore, his was made up of... sparkplugs?


    "Uh... yeah. Yeah, I''m Sheason. Who are you?" I held out my hand, and he shook it vigorously, sitting down next to me.


    "I''m Sebastian. Sebastian Hamilton. I gotta say, it''s nice to finally meet you!" He smiled widely.


    "Um... thanks?" I wasn''t really sure what to say.


    "Oh, don''t mention it!" He just seemed to smile wider. "Because of you, I''ve had the most fun I''ve had in months!"


    "What, the party?" I gestured to the group of Boomers out on the makeshift dance floor... at least, I was hoping it was a dance floor. "d you like it. I thought you guys would enjoy an excuse to cut loose."


    "Oh no, not the party." Hamilton shook his head and kept smiling, "I mean, the party is great, don''t get me wrong, but that''s not what I''m talking about. Pearl wanted me to keep it a secret, but I -"


    "Fisher," Boone''s voice cut in. As per usual, he was wearing his beret and sunsses... and he looked incredibly ufortable. "Do you think I can talk with you for a minute?"


    "Sure man, sure," I got up, shaking hands with Hamilton again. "If Pearl wants you to keep it a secret, you should probably keep it a secret. I''ll be sure to talk to youter, alright?" Hamilton nodded, and looked a bit confused as Boone and I walked off to a quiet part of the roof. "What''s up, man?"


    "Uh... it''s..." Boone looked around, clearing his throat. "It''s just... I''m not really sure what I should be doing here."


    "What do you mean?" I asked, a bit confused. "It''s a party, you should be having fun."


    "That''s what I mean," Boone looked incredibly awkward. Maybe even a bit nervous, but why? Boone nervous? That was just ridiculous. "I just... You can probably guess, but I''m not very good with... social... situations."


    "So don''t socialize," I said with a shrug. "Grab a brew, snag a deck chair, and loosen up a bit, away from the fight-sh-dance going on over there," I grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby ice chest, twisted the top open, and set it in his hands, pping him on the shoulder. "The whole point of this is to have fun. You''re thinking too hard about this, man."


    "I... uh..." Boone finally took a swig of the beer after staring at it for a minute or two. "I guess I am. Thanks."


    "Don''t mention it, man. Stop thinking so much, and have some fun," Boone nodded, and wandered off. As he did, however, I suddenly became aware that the sounds from the party had changed considerably.


    "What''s that in the sky? Are those meteors?"


    "Is that fire? Why is the sky on fire?"


    "What is that? Are those shooting stars?"


    I looked up, and saw the clear, cloudless mostly-night sky marred by several streaks of yellow and gold. The streaks twinkled and shimmered like stars, but looked much more like fire than the rest of the pure white dots in the sky, and the icy-blue sliver of moon. It seemed like every single one of the Boomers was looking skyward, transfixed by the spears of light streaking across the night sky. I couldn''t count how many there were, because for every streak that disappeared, another streak would suddenly emerge and start to glow a fiery reddish-gold, or a big streak would break up into several smaller streaks.


    I looked around, trying to find - aha! There she is.


    "Hey V," I approached Veronica as carefully as I could. She was staring skyward, a rather somber expression on her face. I looked up when I joined her. "So, is that what I think it is?"


    "ARCHIMEDES has entered the atmosphere," she said with a sigh. "Most satellites aren''t designed to handle atmospheric re-entry," Veronica pointed at all the streaks in the sky. "That''s why it''s breaking up into so many pieces like that. The heat and friction are... it can''t take it."


    "We did the right thing today," I said, patting Veronica on the shoulder. She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "It''s breaking up harmlessly in the atmosphere, and it will never hurt anybody again."


    "I know," she said quietly. I nodded, reached into my back pocket, and handed her the bottle I was saving for myself.


    "Have a beer." I said, trying to get her to smile. "You''re gonna be alright, V."


    "I know," she took a sip of her beer... and smiled quietly to herself.

 Chapter 68: The Lady In The Water

    Chapter 68: The Lady In The Water


    <em>Good morning, Mojave Wastnd! It looks like today is going to be absolutely gorgeous! Highs of 69, with partly cloudy skies all day. Light winds, and a few mild sandstorms around the Ivanpah Dry Lake race track. Time for a bit of news. Locals in Freeside, Outer Vegas, Primm, Novac, and even as far south as the Mojave Outpost reported seeing a meteor shower in the skies overheadst night. Several scavengers insist it was not a meteor at all, but a crashing satellite. Sounds like wishful thinking to me. Coming up next is Dean Martin, singing one of my favorite tracks: "Vre!" Sing it, Dean-o.</em>


    By one in the morning, nearly everyone had left the roof. All the Boomers had left, at any rate. Loyal and Pearl had also disappeared, preceding a steady trickle of departures. Veronica left shortly after thest pieces of ARCHIMEDES stopped burning up in the atmosphere. Gregory had disappeared with his grill about an hour earlier. Cass was passed out drunk on one of the deck chairs up here, Boone had disappeared, as had Arcade (along with Argyll, unsurprisingly enough.)


    That was around when I left to get some shut eye. Don''t know why, but I was only able to get a few hours in before I woke up, and couldn''t get back to sleep. So, since daylight hadn''t quite broken yet and the Boomers weren''t going to y Reveille for at least another hour or so, I decided to head back up to the roof - start cleaning up a few things. And who should I find up there? Raul. He was sitting at a table near the edge of the roof, staring out at all the Nellisndscape. There were a few empty bottles and cups sitting on the table, but... I didn''t think they were his. I hadn''t seen him drink anything allst night during the party. Could ghouls even get drunk?


    "Hey man," I said, sitting opposite of him at the table. "What are you still doing up?" Raul shrugged.


    "Didn''t really feel like sleeping, Boss. Just got... a lot on my mind." Raul sighed, and kept looking east. It was almost like he was waiting for the sun toe up.


    "Anything you want to talk about?" I asked. Raul merely chuckled.


    "I did plenty of talkingst night. Loyal and Pearl, the three of us talked about a lot of things. Swapped stories... Did you know they both had plenty of chances over the years of giving up?" I shook my head. "They could have stepped down, retired to live out the rest of their days in luxury. Instead they stayed on, and they continue to do what they can to make sure the Boomers are kept on the right track."


    "Hell," I shrugged, and tried to slump in the chair - and then realized just in time that the chair didn''t have a back. "I think it''s a good thing they''re so devoted to their duty. If more people acted that way, trying to do the right thing, the wastnd might not be so bad."


    "You think so, Boss?" Raul asked, chuckling grimly, and looking back at me. He folded his arms, and rested his elbows on the table. "Because I remember a time when a lot of people stuck to their duty, no matter what. And it ended with nuclear bombs falling on my hometown."


    "Yeah, I remember you telling me about that the other day," I thought back to the story he had told me while checking on the sr panels. "If I recall, you said there was more to that story." Raul stared at me for a good long while, regarding me carefully. And eventually, he sighed, and started talking.


    "Well... I told you about the fire. I knew my sister and I couldn''t stay at what was left of Hidalgo Ranch anymore. The refugees still wanted me dead - they even put a bounty on me. I remember how scared Rafa was. I told her if she came with me, we''d see the vaqueros."


    "The what?" I asked. Was that more Spanish?


    "Oh... sorry, Boss. I''m old, sometimes I forget these things..." Raul shook his head. "Technically, vaquero''s a Spanish word for ''herder of cattle,'' but Rafa and I knew about them because the trick riders at the rodeo dressed like the vaqueros of the Old West. Sombreros, kerchiefs ''round their necks, leather chaps... the whole nine yards, Boss. Rafa loved to go see the rodeo when it came to town. We figured maybe we could find help in Mexico City - we were young, we didn''t know what had happened, really. We didn''t understand about the bombs."


    "I can''t imagine you found anything," I said. "Didn''t you sayst time that Mexico City was vaporized?" Raul just shrugged.


    "I don''t think it was hit as hard as DC or Bakersfield, but... yeah, it was really bad. By the time we got there, the city was a radioactive ruin. Worse, it was full of looters, already forming into the beginning of raider tribes. Don''t get me wrong, Boss, crime was bad before the War, but after the bombs it was a nightmare. For a long time, we were forced to live like scavengers, scraping by on what little food we could find, always looking for medicine for my burns..."


    "Burns?" I asked. Raul nodded slowly, and subtly started rubbing his arms, as if it was an old habit.


    "I didn''t escape the ranch fire unscathed, Boss... but it didn''t take long for the burns to be the least of my problems. Before long, the radiation started to kick in," Raul leaned back, opening his arms and putting himself on disy. "turning me into this handsome devil you see before you."


    "That sounds..." I tried to think of something to say, and came up short. "...pretty bad." Raul just shook his head.


    "You''re a poet of understatement, Boss. But... there were moments it was almost worth it. I still remember finding that novelty costume shop. I was just looking around for something I could slice up to wrap my burns when I saw the vaquero outfit hanging on the rack, like it hadn''t been touched. I took it - I mean... not like anybody else needed it, you know? - and wore it back to our camp," Raul closed his eyes, and smiled his cracked lips wide. "Rafaughed for the first time since the bombs."


    "Uh..." I tried to picture Raul before the bombs, dressed up in a sombrero, a neckerchief, and a pair of leather chaps. It was surprisingly difficult. "Wasn''t it... kind of dangerous to be dressed so... noticeably?" Raul started nodding slowly, and the smile faded.


    "It was. I started to build up a reputation... bit of a legend. Sort of like how people have started calling you Courier Six. Sometimes it headed off trouble... but most of the time, it just started more. Young punks looking to prove themselves woulde looking for me. The nameless, gun-slinging vaquero... but my eyes were sharp, and my guns were quick. For a while, it seemed like we might even survive there, until... until Rafa..." Raul trailed off, looking away from me.


    "Something happened to her, didn''t it?" I asked, almost unnecessarily. Raul nodded somberly.


    "She went out to find some food one day. I was sick, so I stayed at the camp. Looking back, I guess it must have been the beginnings of radiation poisoning. It was supposed to be safe, but some raiders happened to pass through where she was scavenging. I..." Raul ran a scabby hand over his scalp, and slowly shook his head. "When I found her... her body, the...uh... the only way I was able to recognize her was this funny little scar on her knee."


    "Oh fuck..." I looked around; I suddenly wished some of these empty beer bottles and cups weren''t empty. "I''m sorry, man. I didn''t know." Raul hung his head, refusing to look me in the face.


    "I''d let my whole family down. First the Ranch... and then Rafa. I was thest Tejada. I guess maybe I went a little crazy then. I took my guns, and went back to that market. I didn''t have many bullets..." Raul''s voice went low, and dangerous. "... but I had enough. Once the raiders were all dead, I salvaged what I could from the store. I was tired, I... I just wanted to be alone forever."


    "So what did you do?"


    "I left Mexico City behind. I made my way out to the Gulf Cost, and eventually I found an old Petro-Chico refinery nobody had imed. I stayed there for a little while, and I thought a lot about my life. I thought about the guns I''d lived by and what they''d gotten me. And that''s when I decided..." Raul looked up at me, with eyes that looked, for the first time, as old and tired as he said he was. "My guns hadn''t gotten me anything. It was time to give them up. I took off the old vaquero outfit, and put on this Petro-Chico jumpsuit. The name tag said Miguel, so I started using the name myself. Eventually, I made it to Arizona..." Raul sighed. "But that''s another story, Boss." Raul shook his head and chuckled. "You know, it''s funny."


    "Uh... what is?" I asked, genuinely curious. There was nothing about this conversation that seemed funny in the slightest.


    "It''s just that I never really open up to people, Boss. Especially not about my past." He looked off to the east - the first rays of sunshine were just starting to appear on the edge of the horizon. "I don''t know what it is about you. You just seem... easy to talk to, Boss." I chuckled at that - Cass had said something simr about me being easy to talk to, if I remembered correctly. "I''ve gotta be honest... that''s been weighing on my mind for a very long time. I think I just needed to get that out in the open."


    "Happy to help."


    The RHIB wasn''t exactly luxurious, but it was in surprisingly good condition given that it probably hadn''t been used in over 200 years. The hull of the boat looked like it was made out of fiberss, and there was a rubber intable cor running along the outer edge of the boat. As soon as we pushed the boat off the back of the Deuce-And-A-Half, we loaded up and sped off along the pristine, crystalline blue surface of Lake Mead. With the location in my Pip Boy''s map, it took us less than half an hour to find the B-29 crash site.


    "So, this is th'' ce, huh?" Cass asked as she leaned over the side of the RHIB. Seemed pointless to me, looking down. Even with the clear water andck of rough seas, the most any of us could see was about 10, maybe 15 feet below the surface.


    "As close as I think we can get without all of us diving down," I said, looking around out of habit. Boone, Cass, and Raul were all sitting at the bow, keeping watch. Arcade, meanwhile, was with Veronica at the control console: apparently, it took two people to drive the boat. ED-E was circling above us.


    "I still think this is a bad idea," Veronica said, stepping away from the console. "I mean, you going down there alone like this."


    "Why, do you have another rebreather?" I asked, referencing the device draped around my neck. To be honest, I was a bit iffy about trusting my life to something seemingly built out of corn silk, rubber hose, removable adhesive, and a pressure cooker. But, it was the best I had. "Because I have no idea how deep this ne is, and I''m pretty sure whoever goes down there is going to need air."


    "I''m more worried about how close we are to The Fort," Arcade scanned the horizon. "I mean, we''re practically spitting distance. We know the Legion has boats, and we know they kind of want us all dead..."


    "Why d''ya think we''re up here, keepin'' watch?" Cass chuckled, clutching at the rifle she''d borrowed. Boone nodded.


    "Any sh of crimson, that water''s gonna get a lot redder." Unsurprisingly, Boone was in full kit, and had his rifle mounted on the edge of the intable cor of the RHIB. I did one final check of my gear. The bast packs were secure on my back, the cord attaching me to the inner hull of the RHIB was secured firmly around my waist, mybat knife was strapped to my belt, the rebreather was ready, and the only clothes I was wearing were my jeans - anything more, and I''d tread too much water, like that time I had to swim across Fort Peck Lake up in Montana. But that''s another story.


    "Raul, you got Loyal''s detonator?" I asked, sliding the goggles into ce. Raul nodded.


    "Don''t worry Boss, got it right here. And I''ll help keep watch. My eyes ain''t what they used to be, but I suppose that''s what the binocrs are for, right?" Iughed, tightening the straps on the rebreather and opened the valve on the air tank on my back... I heard the unmistakable sound of air starting to cycle through without the hiss of a leaky seal, so it seemed to be working. I was just about ready to jump off and into theke, when I heard a voice from the bow.


    "Hey, Sheason!" Cass shouted, grabbing my attention. "Be careful down there." I gave her two thumbs up, and fell backward into the water.


    I don''t care what anyone tries to tell you: just because ake is in the desert doesn''t mean the water is any warmer. Once the initial shock of just how cold Lake Mead actually was wore off, I <em>still</em> felt cold. It was a strange, ufortable sort of ustrophobia being surrounded by all that water, and it only got worse the deeper I swam.


    The strangest thing about the dive was the sounds I could hear, even though they weren''t really sounds. I don''t quite know how to describe it... it felt like noise, but at the same time, I knew that it wasn''t noise. Vibrations from all around being funneled into my skull through the water flooding into my ears, and the water muffling everything except the dull thud of my own heartbeat in my ear canal.


    My only realfort was the light from my Pip Boy illuminating the water around me - which, now that I was far enough away from the surface, seemed a hazy, mossy green, quite detached from the crystal blue up top. The goggles helped too: I had no idea if my cybeic eyes could focus properly if they were directly exposed to water, so I thought it best to y it safe and keep a buffer of air and ss between my eyes and the water.


    I kept diving as fast as I could, only stopping every so often to make sure the cable connecting me to the boat didn''t get tied up. It may seem a bit stupid that I was focusing so hard on this, but keep in mind that the few times I''ve had to swim in the past only involved me swimming on the surface. I''ve never had to dive before, and it was more difficult than I was expecting. Especially since the ne was supposed to be around 170 feet below the surface, and I had no way of tracking how deep I was.


    Of course, as difficult as I thought it was, things were about to get much, much worse. I felt a shift in the water behind me, and the muffled noises-that-weren''t-noises smothering my ears changed. Immediately, the pit of my stomach seemed topletely drop out from under me and I knew right then and there I was in trouble.


    I twisted my body around just in time toe face to face with a pair of blood red eyes attached to a slimy green body. Instinctively, I tried to swing at it, but... I was too slow. The water was pressing down on me so hard, and providing too much resistance to my punch. By the time my fist got close, thekelurk had swum just out of reach.


    I''ve seenkelurks before, but usually it would be through the scope mounted on a high powered rifle. The vaguely human shape was covered in scales and rubbery skin that looked slimy even this deep underwater. Its webbed hands and feet didn''t seem to have quite the right number of fingers and toes... which was a relief, frankly, since its fingers and toes ended in sharp ws. The rest of its body was covered in fins. It hovered in the water for a few minutes, just out of reach; it was staring at me through the thin slits of its blood-red eyes, and gnashing its maw full of sharp teeth.


    I grabbed the knife off my belt, and brought my hands up in as much of a defensive posture as I could manage. And just in time, too: no sooner had I done so, thekelurk surged forth through the water toward me, ws outstretched and mouth wide open. I deflected the blow, but I could feel the water rush past my face as the ws came perilously close to ripping my head open.


    This was bad. Down here it was faster than me, and I couldn''t put any force in my punches because of the water resistance. The only upside was that this thing was still just an animal - it was attacking me the same way over and over again. I had to use that against it somehow... after everything I did to survive the Sierra Madre, I wasn''t going to go down like a bitch to this overgrown fish with too many limbs.


    The next thing I knew, thekelurk hadtched onto me, and the two of us were tumbling over and over. I barely had enough time to bring my Pip Boy up in front of my face before thekelurk''s teeth-filled maw mped down on it - presumably in an attempt to bite my face off. It was really trying its best totch onto me, and get as close as it could...


    And that was my opening.


    I shoved mybat knife into thekelurks gut as hard as I could. The water around me shuddered as it convulsed and iled. Its jaw loosened from around my Pip Boy, and it tried to swim away - but I was ready. My hand was already gripping tight around thekelurks gills, and I was determined not to let go.


    It convulsed again after I pulled the knife out and it tried to wriggle away... but up close, and with a damn good grip, I was quicker. I shoved the knife up and under its chin. There was onest convulsion before a cloud of dark blood started to seep out through the wound and bloom in every direction.


    I pulled out the knife, and shoved the deadkelurk away with my foot. The body slowly drifted away, leaving a cloudy trail of red mess behind it. I needed to get out of here quick. That blood was bound to lure morekelurks and who knows how many other nasty mutant critters down here, looking for an easy snack. So I sheathed the knife, checked the Pip Boy to make sure I knew which direction (besides down) to go, and started to dive.


    It didn''t take long for me to realize something else was wrong. I felt a strange fizzing sensationing from my left shoulder - close to where thekelurk had tried to sh my face open. Had I been hit without realizing? I turned to look, and what I saw was not what I expected. At all.


    The tube connecting my mask to the oxygen tank had been severedpletely. The fizzing I felt was all the air rushing out. I... didn''t really know what to make of that. Was I... how was I breathing? <em>Was</em> I breathing? On a hunch, I reached up and pulled my breathing mask off... and it detached from my face without so much as a bubble. Ok, so, that answers that... sort of. I tried to shake it off... for the moment, I didn''t appear to be dying and/or dead. And that had to be good enough, but it still didn''t take away from the fact that I appeared to be breathing <em>underwater</em>.


    When the fuck did my life get so... you know what? Screw it. I don''t even care anymore.


    It didn''t take long to find the B-29 after ditching what was left of the rebreather. The shape was unmistakable, even so deep and covered in moss. The canopy looked crushed, and the right wing looked like it was broken, but the ne looked mostly intact. For the most part. It was intact enough that this crazy scheme of Loyal''s just might actually work. Probably.


    I swam under the left wing, directly in between the two engines, and pulled the bast packs from off my back. Thankfully, they were still intact. My little run in with thekelurk hadn''t damaged them. I tried to remember what Loyal had said: take the bast, one for each wing, and stick them to the underside between the two engines, then pull the tab when it''s in ce. The adhesive mixture Jack had cooked up should keep it in ce. Should.


    A few minutester, and both of them were in ce. I swam around the B-29 once more and started looking for the cable connecting me to the surface when I saw something incredibly disheartening: off in the distance, just beyond the lighting off my Pip Boy, I saw a pair of red eyes staring at me. Then another. Then a third. Indistinct shapes in the darkness of the murky water started taking form...


    Right. Time to go. I grabbed the cable and kicked off from the top of the B-29. I swam up as fast as I could, doing my best to use the cable. I started pulling on it, almost like I was climbing it - and then, without warning, it started pulling back. I didn''t quite know how, but there was definitely something pulling the cable from the surface end, so I grabbed tight with both hands and didn''t let go.


    The next thing I knew, I was surging up through the water far faster than I could swim. I held on tight, thankful for the goggles keeping the water out of my eyes - though it did feel like the rest of my skin was going to rip right off me. I looked up, and soon the darkness of theke''s depths began to give way to a much lighter blue. It got lighter and lighter until I saw the surface - and the outline of the RHIB waiting for me.


    I burst out of the water like I''d been shot from a gun. Cold air hit me in the face - well, to be fair, it was probably pretty hot, but any air was bound to feel cold given how I was soaked to the core.


    "Grab him!" A voice cut through the sounds of rushing water. I couldn''t immediately tell who said it. I just knew that I was no longer flying up and out of the water. Inded against something soft and rubbery, and desperately tried to find a grip that wasn''t there. I scrambled, and just when I thought I was going to get pulled back into the depths, several hands reached out and grabbed hold of me.


    "Sheason!" It sounded like Cass. The water finally cleared away from my goggles enough for me to see Cass and Boone holding onto me, trying to pull me up. It was surprisingly difficult, given that I was hanging off the nose of the boat. "C''mon, I gotcha! Up y''git!" I looked up as the two of them tried to pull me onto the boat, and I saw ED-E hovering close by; the cable I was still attached to was hooked onto his underside. He must have been the one to pull me up.


    "You okay?" Boone said in his usual gravelly monotone. I opened my mouth to speak, but instead of words, the only thing that came gushing out was what looked and felt like five gallons ofke water.


    "THE FUCK!?" Cass blurted out, and almost lost her grip - and then grabbed hold of me again. With Boone and Cass'' help, I almost managed to scramble back on board - when a gunshot rang out. Both Boone and Cass let go of me, and reached for their guns. Thankfully, I''d found a handhold, so I didn''t slip back into the water. I couldn''t really press myself any further into the side of the boat, so all I could do was turn my head in the direction of the shot: right in front of me.


    There was Raul, standing in the middle of the boat with his revolver drawn at a point somewhere behind me. My eyes followed the direction of his shot, and I turned to look... at a deadkelurk that was lying face first in the water. Silence hung heavy in the air, just like the mutant fish-man floating a few feet away from me.


    "So, the old man with the bad eyes and the shaky joints was the only one to spot the obvious and dangerouskelurk?" Raul holstered his pistol. "Thanks guys, that really makes me feel much safer." With a smile, he extended a scabby hand toward me. I grabbed it without question, and he finished the job of pulling me on board. I copsed face first on the deck of the RHIB, coughing thest bit of water out.


    "Th-" I coughed onest time, and finally ripped the goggles off my face. "Thanks man. I owe ya."


    "Don''t mention it, Boss," Raul smirked, waving it off. "Although, I''m guessing more are on the way?" I nodded. "Then what are we waiting for?"


    "Permission to get underway, skipper!" Arcade said to Veronica, adding in a fake salute and a shit-eating grin. Veronica just rolled her eyes.


    "Oh, stop with the stupid nautical references Arcade! It wasn''t funny the first time." Veronica moved the wheel, and the RHIB started moving, turned around, and in a few moments we were heading back to the parked Deuce-And-A-Half at Callville Bay.


    I leaned against the hull at the bow, very calmly breathing in and out. I unhooked myself from the cable, and was d to be... well, I wasn''t on drynd yet, but my little swim hadn''t exactly been a pic.


    "So, what happened t''yer facemask?" Cass asked, sitting down next to me, her rifle against her shoulder. "Did y''lose it when ED-E was draggin'' y''up at a million miles''n hour?"


    "Uh..." I didn''t quite know what to say. No sense surgarcoating the madness, I guess. "No. I lost it a bit earlier. Turns out, I can breathe underwater."


    "What." It looked like Cass'' brain had broken.


    "Hey, I don''t know either. All I know is I was down there way too long without oxygen, and yet somehow I''m still here. Hell, maybe one of those cybeics Usanagi put in me helped me breathe underwater somehow, I don''t know." I shrugged. "If I''m still here, does it matter?" Cass stared at me for a few minutes.


    "Well?" She said, breaking the silence.


    "Well, what?"


    "Ain''t ya gonna say it?" She asked, poking me in the ribs.


    "Say what?" I asked.


    "Don''t y''usually say ''when th'' fuck did m''life get so weird?'' right ''bout now?" Cass smirked, and I couldn''t help butugh and shake my head.


    "Yeah, the sick thing is I''m actually getting used to this crap. Hey, Raul?" I turned to the ghoul sitting across from me against the control station. "You''ve still got Loyal''s detonator, right?"


    "Sure thing, Boss," Raul reached into his jumpsuit, and pulled out the detonator, handing it to me. "Think we''re far enough away?"


    "Guess we''ll find out soon enough," I grabbed the detonator, flipped open the finger guard, and pulled the trigger. The light on the top of the detonator switched from green to red and started shing, and then...


    Nothing.


    "Did it work?" Arcade asked, looking behind him. The RHIB slowed, and everyone looked behind the boat, back where we''d been a few minutes ago. The surface of theke was incredibly still. And then...


    There was a bulge. It seemed small at first, but then the bulge got bigger, like someone was inting a huge balloon right below the surface of the water, and theke was clinging to the sides, refusing to let it surface. And then suddenly, the imaginary balloon seemed to explode. The surface of the water shattered, and a there was a massive surge of water flying upwards into the air. The shock sent waves through the water, and the RHIB started to rock violently. The water started to fall back down to theke... and that''s when I saw it.


    Sitting defiantly on the surface of theke was the B-29, with what looked like two massive car airbags under the wings keeping it afloat. It wobbled and swayed, and the right wing beyond the two engines looked dangerously close to snapping offpletely from the force of being dredged up from theke floor, but... there it was.


    "Mission aplished?" I asked, giving a thumbs up.


    Everyone was too busy staring at the risen bomber to reply.


    "Your n worked," I said to Pearl and Loyal. It was several hourster, and I''d had time to shower and change; now, I was meeting with the two of them in the old HQ building again. "The ne is now floating on the surface of Lake Mead. Seems to be mostly intact." Pearl just smiled, but Loyal''s face lit up like the neon signs in Vegas. The old guy was practically jumping up and down, he was so happy.


    "That''s tremendous!" He beamed. "I''ll transmit instructions to the robots to start packing up the ne to bring it back to Nellis!"


    "Robots?" I asked. "What, you mean the Mr. Gutsy''s I''ve seen flying around?" Loyal nodded.


    "Exactly. They can break the ne down into pieces and move it up from Callville Bay in one shot."


    "Hey, I''m just d I could help. Sorry the rebreather got wrecked, though. Wish I could make up for that." I shrugged, opting not to tell them all the details about my strange experience under the water.


    "Ah, don''t worry about it. Jack still has the ns, he can make more if he needs to." When he mentioned Jack, he seemed to recall something, and looked down at his Pip Boy. "Actually, speaking of that, I better get rolling. Jack and I have a lot of work ahead of us! See you around, Outsider!" Loyal shook my hand onest time, and rushed out of the office. Pearl, on the other hand, stayed, resting a hand on my shoulder to grab my attention.


    "What you have done for us is a miracle, child," Pearl smiled warmly at me, her wrinkled features beaming brightly with unfiltered happiness. "You have fulfilled the only dreams we ever had outside our walls. You''ve done more than any other outsider ever has, and I can tell you with certainty that you''re a trusted friend to us all. If there is ever a way for us to help you, child, tell me and I will make it so."


    Well, this is it. The whole reason I came here. It''s now or never.


    "You know how you said you knew about the conflict between NCR and Legion?" I asked; Pearl nodded. "Well, it maye sooner, rather thanter. When that battle finally happens, it''ll be at the Hoover Dam. Do you think the Boomers can help me decide the oue?" I didn''t think it possible, but Pearl smiled even wider.


    "Of course, my child. After everything you have done for us? We would love to help you in the uing fight, once we use The Lady to rebuild the bomber. The young ones would relish an opportunity to put their skills to real battle after all the years training in virtual reality. I promise you, we will be there when you need us."


    "Excellent!" I said, offering my hand to shake. "I knew I could count on you."


    "But..." Pearl started, still smiling.


    "But?" I tried to disguise the concern in my voice. Don''t tell me there''s more!


    "There is onest thing I''d like you to partake in, before you take your leave of us, back to the lights of Vegas. In fact..." Pearl motioned behind me. "There''s someone I''d like you to meet who can exin everything."


    I turned around, expecting any number of things... and on all counts, I waspletely wrong. Standing in the doorway was a Boomer with a short mowhawk, sunsses, and a ne of spark plugs hanging around his neck. He smiled at me, extending his hand as he approached.


    "Hey Sheason. Remember me?" I nodded as the two of us shook hands.


    "Yeah, I remember you, from the partyst night?" I tried to remember his na- "Sebastian, right? Sebastian Hamilton?" He nodded. "Yeah, sorry for leaving suddenly like I did. Boone was having some troubles and needed a bit of help." Hamilton just waved it off.


    "Don''t worry about it, I understand. He looked as nervous as a gecko stumbling into a deathw nest. That''s not why Pearl called me here. You remember that secret I mentioned?"


    "Of course," I said, nodding.


    "Well," Hamilton shed a satisfied grin. "Pearl doesn''t want it to be a secret anymore."

 Chapter 69: Speedway

    Chapter 69: Speedway


    <em>Ladies and gentlemen, you''re listening to me, Mr. New Vegas, and you all look extraordinarily beautiful right now. If you like news, then you''re gonna love our next segment. Witnesses have reported a huge object or a creature surfacing in Lake Mead earlier today. So far, photos of the so-called ''Lake Mead Monster'' are grainy and under-exposed. The headlines today have been brought to you by Vault 21: everything''s better when you experience it in a vault. Ladies and Gentlemen, this next song goes out from me to you.</em>


    "So, what are we doing all the way out here?" I looked around. We were walking next to a row of garages somewhere well north of the Nellis airstrip. This far north, there was nothing but a whole lot of tarmac, and... were those bleachers off in the distance? There must have been something going on, because I heard the sounds of engines over in that direction as well. At least 5 or 6 car engines, maybe, all running at full tilt.


    "We''re still on the Homnd, actually. About twenty years ago, my father petitioned Mother Pearl to let a few of us... expand," As we walked by each one of the garage doors, he very calmly and distractedly pointed at each one. "This ce used to be called the Las Vegas Motor Speedway, once upon a time. Now, it''s the Nellis Annex, and it''s where Gearheads like me live."


    "Gearheads?" I asked. "What, do you guys... like, not consider yourselves Boomers or something?" Hamilton shook his head, and kept counting garage doors.


    "Nah, we''re all still Boomers. It''s just that us Gearheads... well... we like a different sort of explosion. And we are just... about... here." Hamilton reached down to undo the lock on the garage door where he''d suddenlye to a stop.


    "And where is <em>here</em>, exactly?" I still didn''t know what his game was, or why he''d brought me all the way out here. He hadn''t even said anything else about that secret he''d mentioned earlier, either. He just smiled up at me, and lifted the garage door. When the light from outside hit the only thing sitting in the garage... my jaw dropped. My eyes went wide. I couldn''t find the words. I''m sure I must have looked suitably surprised.


    It was my car. It was definitely my Corvega. It had to be, but it looked... <em>new</em>. No, it looked better than new! There were no dings. There were no scratches. There were no dents. Every single panel on the bodywork looked smooth and sleek and shiny. The ss in the windshield had to have been reced, because it was perfect and unmarred - even the doors had ss in the windows now! Not only that, but it looked like it had been given a new paint job. It was still blue, yeah, but a slightly darker shade, and now there were two thick white racing stripes running down the middle of the car. And that wasn''t the only new paint, either: as I walked around it, not really believing what I was seeing, I couldn''t help but notice a white circle painted on each side of the car, framing a ck number 6.


    It felt like a million questions were all buzzing around my head. I couldn''t think of what to say first.


    "You like?" Hamilton asked as I walked around my car, running my hands along the smooth, sleek bodywork. "It''s your car, everything is still there. It''s just been given a bit of a tune-up. So to speak." I moved my jaw uselessly for a few moments before it finally worked and words appeared.


    "I... This... How?" I finally asked. Seemed as good a ce to start as any. "This is amazing! But thest I saw, my car was a radioactive wreck. It was just a pile of scrap metal, how''d you fix it?" Hamilton just shrugged.


    "Wasn''t all that difficult, really. I know my way around a wrench enough that I can build an entire car from the ground up all by myself in eight hours, given the tools and the parts. And if there''s one thing we''re not short of here on the Nellis Homnd, it''s spare parts."


    "You rebuilt my car - from scratch - all by yourself? This <em>quickly</em>?!" I was dumbfounded. This was too good of a job for one person to do in two days.


    "Nah, I didn''t do everything all by myself. Had a bit of help. There''s a pack of Mr. Handy robots that help out with any maintenance jobs on the Homnd. They''re like Mr. Gutsy''s, but the civilian models. I guess you could say they''re pretty... <em>handy</em>." I resisted the urge to p my forehead at the awful pun. Hamilton, on the other hand, just pointed at me with both hands and smiled at me with a stupidly wide smile. "Eh? Eh? Get it?"


    "Yeah, no, I get it man. That... I''m sorry, but that pun was awful," I rubbed my eyes, trying topose myself. Focus, Sheason. You''ve got more questions. "I''m actually wondering something else: why?" Hamilton looked confused, so I borated. "Why would you rebuild my car? I mean, not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything. The work you''ve done here is... it''s just incredible. I never thought my car would <em>ever</em> look this good. But why would you do this for me? I didn''t even <em>meet</em> you untilst night!" Hamilton shrugged.


    "Mother Pearl seems to trust you. She was confident that you''d be able to help us reim the Lady in the Water, and she wanted to make sure you were adequately rewarded with more than just a vague promise of aid sometime in the future. Besides," Hamilton shrugged again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. "It''s like I told you before at the partyst night. Working on this thing has been the most fun I''ve had in months!" The wild eyed look and the wide grin he shed were enough to sell me that he was telling the truth about this being fun... but still.


    "Seriously?" I feltpelled to ask. Hamilton nodded.


    "Oh yeah. Most of the work I do here is just maintenance work. Boring stuff. Recing worn out brakes, fixing a dead alternator, repairing a broken suspension bush, that sort of thing. It''s not often that I''m given the chance to rebuild a car from the ground up like this! Make it better than new? How could I turn that down? Now c''mon, let me walk you through some of the features of your like-new car."


    "Features?" I asked. I didn''t know if I should be intrigued or frightened. Hamilton grabbed me by the shoulder and rapped a knuckle against the hood.


    "As you can probably tell, all the body panels have been reced. It''s all custom bodywork now, made out of reinforced armor ting, with a carbon fiber/titanium weave. You could drive it through a hail of fire from a Browning 50-cal, and not take a dent." As he spoke, I thought back to the Legion hit squad that tried to kill me when I went to Old Lady Gibson''s, just outside Novac... and how the .50 caliber Anti-Materiel Rifle just sted through one side of my car and out the other like it wasn''t even there.


    "That''ll definitely be useful, with the trouble I seem to be getting intotely..." Hamiltonughed at that.


    "Yeah, I''ve heard the radio. I figure, even the ''Indestructible Courier Six'' wouldn''t mind a little extra armor here and there. Speaking of that," he tapped on the windshield. "All the ss has been reced and bulletproofed with Polymethyl methacrte."


    "Poly-what now?"


    "Plexis. Loyal has been making batches of it in the production facilities underneath Nellis to rece the nose-cone canopy on the bomber. There''s enough of it that us Gearheads can use it to make armored windshields for every car in the Nellis motorpool. But that''s not the best part. Do you want to see the best part?" Hamilton grabbed me by the shoulder again, and directed me to the back of the car.


    "What''s the best part?" I asked. He smiled at me, and popped the hood covering the engine.


    "Behold, and feast your eyes upon the magnificence," He couldn''t help but grin at me as he disyed the engine. And as I stared at it, feeling my eyes get even wider, I could understand why he was so proud.


    "Hang on, this... this isn''t the same engine as before, is it?"


    "No, you''re right! The old engine was way too radiation damaged to fix, so I chucked it in the trash and gave you a new one. Now, the old engine was a V6, which I admit was pretty good. 750 horsepower once upon a time, for a car weighing a little over 2 tons, that''s alright. Got you from A to B, I''m sure, but it was nothing to write home about. This, on the other hand, is a V10 rotary engine with twin turbochargers. I put it on a rolling road earlier today, this baby now cranks out 475 brake horsepower per ton."


    "Hang on, before you go any further," I tried to stop Hamilton before he got too carried away. "Does this still run on microfusion cells, like my old car?" A little part of my brain was screaming at me: why are you worried about practicality? This is great! Let him talk more about how awesome your car is now!


    "Oh, yeah, don''t worry about that. It still runs on MF cells, but it''ll need 10 every fill up now because it''s a V10 instead of a V6. Sure, it''s going to be a bit thirstier than it was before, but trust me - the next time you and your friends are in this car and you have to outrun a deathw or a swarm of angry cazadores, you''ll know <em>exactly</em> where all that extra power goes. Now, as for the rest of the details..." When Hamilton started listing off things he''d done to my car, he counted them off on his fingers. "I''ve uprated the suspension, reced the old brakes with carbon-ceramic disks, given it some better all-terrain tires, reced the engine air filters, fixed the AC so it actually works now, installed a new radio in the dash..."


    "Hold up a sec - what''s that?" While he was rattling on, I was staring into my car - and I noticed that the dashboard had several new buttons I didn''t recognize. With a sense of wry amusement, I noticed that the Dinky the Dinosaur figurine that Cass had bought at Novac was now bolted to the dashboard, and the puzzle box I got from The Forecaster at the 188 was hanging from the rearview mirror like a pair of fuzzy dice.


    "Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. I made sure to install several self-defense systems in your car. Let me show you the best one..." He shoved his way past me, opened the door, sat in the driver''s seat, and flipped one of the switches. There was a clunk from under the hood, and two panels opened up above the front wheel arches. There was a mechanical whirr and - no. No, there''s just no... what? <em>WHAT?</em>


    "Are those what I think they are?" I said, my eyes transfixed by the sight in front of me.


    "Twin-linked 40-milimeter rapid-fire grenade machineguns mounted in the hood!" Hamilton practically shouted. "Because there is absolutely no kill like overkill!"


    After showing me the rest of the features on my car, we found my friends, and Hamilton led us all to the bleachers I''d seen in the distance. Well... I say ''bleachers,'' but these were absolutely massive. They could hold several hundred people, easily, if not several thousand. It reminded me a bit of The Ros: an abandoned stadium in the ruins of Pasadena.


    "So, is this just what you guys do all day?" I asked. "Build and race cars?" Hamilton nodded. I took a drink from my beer, as I watched the pack of cars below us on the racetrack. There were close to ten or eleven of them now, all racing around on the circuit below us. Inside the circuit, I saw other cars racing each other on what looked like a drag strip.


    "Pretty much. The Gearheads are still Boomers, but we like the explosions that go with cars more than anything else that goes boom."


    "Wait, what explosions that go with cars?" I asked. I wasn''t sure I got it.


    "What else is an internalbustion engine - or even a modified nuclear-electric engine - but a series of incredibly rapid controlled explosions? Every Boomer loves watching things explode, don''t get me wrong... but the Gearheads? We love the idea of being able to <em>control</em> an explosion in a very specific way. Harness it. Redirect its energy exactly where we want it to go. It''s just that mixture of sheer brute force and precision engineering,ing together to create one harmonious whole: a big shouty engine, propelling chunks of metal flying around!"


    "You were doing pretty well, right up until the end there," I said with a smirk.


    "It... kind of got away from me there, yeah," Hamiltonughed, and pointed down at some of the bleachers below us. "So, do you think your friends are enjoying the race?"


    "Certainly looks that way," I said, looking several rows below us at all my friends. Granted, only Cass seemed to be really getting into it. Or maybe it just seemed that way since she was the only one out of her seat. Everyone except Boone was shouting and cheering on the cars, but Cass was leaning on the seatback of the row in front of her to get a better view. "I still don''t get why you wanted us to sit all the way up here, though."


    "Ah, well, that''s... see, there''s someone else who wanted to talk to you." I was just about to ask Hamilton what he meant, when another voice sounded from behind me.


    "So, you''re the infamous Courier Six then, huh?" The voice was deep, with a slow drawl to it. I turned around and got out of my seat just in time to see a man in a cowboy hat, aviator sunsses, and a leather jacket over his Vault 34 jumpsuit walk down the stairs in my direction. Like Hamilton, he was wearing a ne made out of spark plugs. I couldn''t quite tell how old he was, but I was pretty sure from the few lines I saw on his face and the flecks of grey hairs poking out from under his hat that he was at least a little older than me. He didn''t quite have a beard, but there was plenty of stubble.


    "Well, people have been calling me thattely, I admit. I prefer Sheason, myself." He looked me up and down, nodding.


    "I thought you''d be taller," He said with a smirk, shaking my hand. "Name''s Shelby. I heard from Mother Pearl about that stunt you pulled the other day, getting into Nellis. Gotta say, you got some cojones on ya to drive through that barrage of fire. And toe out the other side unscathed? You must have some serious driving chops."


    "Shelby is a living legend here on the Speedway," Hamilton piped up. "He''s the fastest racer on the Homnd. I''ve never seen anyone else squeeze so much power out of an engine as he has."


    "What can I say," Shelby smirked. "When The Cobra speaks to me, I listen."


    "The Cobra?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "It''s what he calls his car, "Hamilton exined. "Everything is hand built, and everything is custom. It''s a gorgeous machine."


    "Enough about that, It''s time to get down to brass tacks," Shelby prodded me in the middle of my chest twice. "I want to challenge you to a race."


    "A... a race?" I wasn''t expecting that. Shelby nodded.


    "Yeah. Before you ask, nothing serious, just a bit of fun. I''ve been wanting to race against someone with actual talent for a long time, and if you were able to dodge all that artillery in that... <em>car</em> you came here in..." I could tell that when he said ''car'' he actually meant ''heap of junk.'' "...then I can''t wait to see what you''re like behind the wheel of a <em>real</em> machine. Besides, it''ll give you a chance to put her through her paces."


    "Did you know about this?" I asked Hamilton. He did his best not to look guilty.


    "Kinda? It... <em>may</em> have been another reason I got your car fixed so fast. I really want to see you two race." He wasn''t even attempting to disguise his enthusiasm. I shook my head and turned back to Shelby.


    "Alright, what''s the catch?" I asked. Shelby and Hamilton looked at each other, confused.


    "No catch, man. Just looking for a good race," Shelby turned and looked down at the pack of cars racing each other around the circuit below us. "All the boys and girls here, they like to screw around, have some fun... but none of them know what <em>real</em> speed is. They don''t know what it''s like to push a car to the absolute limit, to drive it so hard and so fast that it feels like it''ll rip apart at any second. If you were able to dodge that artillery fire, then I know you''re able to push a car to the ragged edge, and that means I''ll finally get a decent challenge. So, what do you say? Threeps around the long road course in about an hour?"


    "Well, when you put it like that..." He and I shook on it. "Sure. Sounds like fun. Just so long as we''re not racing for pink slips, know what I mean?" I added with a smirk. Shelbyughed.


    "Wouldn''t dream of it. There ain''t nothing on this cursed earth that could part me from my Cobra. See you on the Speedway then," He nodded in my direction, nodded at Hamilton, and started to walk off. I called out after him before he got too far.


    "Oh, and by the way," He turned at the sound. "Nice hat." Shelby justughed again.


    "Thanks."


    "That''s the Cobra, huh?" I asked, getting out of my car after parking it on the starting line to get a better look. Shelby was leaning against his car, obviously waiting for me, and nodded at my question.


    "Yep," He patted the hood, obviously proud of his car. "This here''s my baby. The missus hates when I call this stunning piece of engineering that, but she ain''t here to correct me." Shelby chuckled softly to himself.


    I had to admit... Hamilton was right, the car <em>was</em> gorgeous. It was painted a silvery-grey, that glinted in the sun, and there were two racing stripes like on my car, except his were dark blue. Drawn on the hood and coiled around the two racing stripes was a picture of a stylized ck cobra snake with red eyes. On the door, I saw a circle with a ck number inside just like on my car, only his number was 98. The bodywork was all curves, with an oval radiator grill between the two headlights, a long front-end with a massive ram air scoop mounted in the hood, and a sloping rear, ending in a small upturned spoiler. It was slightly shorter than my Corvega, since it was just a two-door, two-seater; despite that, the Cobra looked like it had roughly the same wheelbase as my own, a four-door with a massive backseat.


    "So, are we gonna get started, or are you gonna just stand there, staring at my car all day?" Shelby said with a smirk, getting up off the side of the Cobra. I nodded, sliding into the driver seat.


    I took onest look up at the grandstands before I started up my Corvega... and I couldn''t help but shake my head. Shelby must have been a celebrity on Nellis or something, because I think every single Boomer who lived here had shown up and was now watching from the massive bleachers. And here I thought my little barbeque had been crowded - there must have been several hundred people up there, all watching, and all expecting a good show.


    Nothing like a little pressure.


    The V10 in the back of my car rumbled and roared to life, louder and altogether more aggressive sounding than the engine it used to have... and then it was drowned out by an even <em>bigger</em> sounding engine roar. I looked over to the Cobra just in time to see a spit of blue me erupt from a trio of circr vents in the side of his car, right next to the wheel arches. The engine in Shelby''s Cobra must have been absolutely massive, because it sounded like an angry deathw alpha fighting a giant albino radscorpion that was on fire.


    I was so distracted by the noise, that I almost didn''t notice the woman jumping off the grandstands and walk onto the center of the racetrack. The top half of her Vault jumpsuit was unzipped and tied around her waist, seemingly as a way to show off her (very tight) t-shirt and spark plug ne, and her long dirty blonde hair was tied back in a wavy ponytail. I had no idea who she was, but when I saw the checkered g in her hands... ah! So that''s how we were going to start the race. I was wondering about that.


    She came to a stop between our two cars, and raised the g in her hands high above her head. Shelby and I both revved our engines. I could feel the car straining to keep still under me, tingling and vibrating and I could hear both cars roaring like a pair of vicious animals howling at the moon... it was almost like the very cars themselves were more anxious than the drivers to get going.


    The g dropped. I mmed the car into gear and the race was on.


    When I put my foot down in my old car, it built up speed very gradually. It was a predictable surge that started slow, and then the surge would turn into a flood that I couldn''t escape. It would build up until the speed pinned me into my seat, and kept me there until I needed to use the brakes. There was always a very obvious transition between ''stationary'' and ''speed.''


    This time, it felt like there was no transition. As soon as I let up off the clutch, the car burst forward, like it had been shot from one of the Boomers howitzers. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had to physically hold onto the steering wheel just to keep myself from being thrown out of the back of the car. I used to think my old car was fast, but this was a sensation of speed on an entirely new level, that I had never, ever experienced before. It was like a gallon of adrenaline had been dumped into my system.


    The absolutely astounding and wholly unexpected eleration wasn''t the most surprising thing, however. When I finally was able to focus on the track - everything was moving so fast, that was surprisingly difficult - and saw that I wasing up to the banking for the first corner, I looked ahead to see Shelby''s Cobra at least 3 car lengths ahead of me, taking the inside line of the track.


    The amount of lean in that heavily banked set of two joined turns was positively insane, that I didn''t dare let up. If I didn''t keep myselfpletelymitted into this massive, ridiculous corner, I just knew I was going to spin out... or worse. There was nothing else for it, so I just kept my foot buried into elerator, only letting up enough whenever I needed to shift up into a higher gear. And as fast as I was going around this giant corner, Shelby''s Cobra seemed to be able to go that much faster.


    In almost no time at all, the track stopped banking and leveled out; that must mean we were getting close to the Nellis Straightaway, and after that was the hairpin Turn 3. And I only knew that because I''d snuck a nce at a map of the track before the race began. They hadn''t let me onto the track itself before the race, so I hadn''t been able to get in a sightingp. That would''ve made things too easy. Sure enough, I saw a wall of tires blocking off the rest of the oval, forcing us onto the inside track.


    Shelby was more than six car lengths ahead of me now, and for a minute, it seemed like there was absolutely no way I could catch up to him... but then I saw something unexpected. The pair of red brake lights in the back of his Cobra lit up, and I saw a puff of smokee from his tires. Hang on, why was he braking this far out from the corner? Unless... That''s it! That''s how I could catch up to him! Time to nut up or shut up, Sheason, because if you want a chance of even getting close, you''re going to have to out brake him on every single corner.


    Shelby must have hit the brakes maybe 200 yards from the entrance of the corner; I waited till I was half that distance. And for as fast as my car elerated nowpared to how it used to be, it was nothingpared to how it stopped. These brakes were fantastic - I don''t think I could stop more quickly unless I ran into a tree. The car gripped the tarmac, and I only missed the apex because I still wasn''t totally sure of how to get around this circuit.


    By the time the pair of us exited the corner, I''d closed the gap considerably. I was right on his tail, and since we were already going into the next turn now, Shelby couldn''t use his colossal speed to pull away. Again, he took the inside line of the left hand corner, I saw a sh from his brake lights as he turned into the right hander, and then another puff of smoke from his brakes.


    Now, we were on another arrow-straight stretch of the track, running parallel to the drag strip. I was right on his back bumper on the exit of Turn 7, but then he roared off down the straightaway. I tried to remember the map, trying to think of what wasing next... a left hand turn, a banked right hander, another right turn, past a wall of tires, and then it was back onto the oval.


    Sure enough, I saw his brakes sh well back from the entrance to the turn. I was able to close the gap, and by the time we got to the banked right hander, I was right in his slipstream. If he kept taking the inside line, and I kept brakingter than he did, then I might be able to pass him on the outside, right before the oval...


    It wasn''t to be. We were neck and neck as we passed the wall of tires, but as soon as we hit the speedway, he was off like a rocket. It was amazing how fast that thing was in a straight line... or, at least, when he didn''t feel the need to brake. Then I noticed something else: halfway through the front stretch, right before we crossed the line to startp 2, I realized that I was actually gaining on him slightly.


    That meant by the time the two of us got to the hairpin on the 2ndp, there was a much shorter distance between us. I kept right on his tail, as close as I dared, waiting for him to make a mistake. At least I was able to hit the apex of the corner this time; the car shuddered as I ran over the red and white lines, perilously close to the gravel surrounding the track.


    I practically slid the car through the next two corners, right on Shelby''s tail, waiting for my opening. When we entered the straight next to the drag strip this time, we were practically neck and neck - the Cobra was a little ahead of me now, but not by much, which meant...


    YES! The Cobra fell back right before the corner, and I just kept on going. I only needed to tap the brakes, and the next thing I knew, I was in front. I took the same line around the banked right hander that Shelby took before on a hunch, and sure enough, he was right behind me breathing down my neck.


    Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do when we were spat back out onto the oval. I had my foot buried to the floor, but here, he didn''t need to brake. Shelby''s car was just that much faster. I tried to block him out, but he passed me on the outside, and just kept going, blocking me out of the inside line and forcing me to take the longer path. When the two of us crossed the line and startedp 3, my front tires were about level with his back tires.


    Keep your head, Sheason. You''ve got one morep to go. You can still out brake him, and if you can pass him by the hairpin, you stand a chance of winning this. I know he said it was just for fun but... I still want to win.


    Shelby fell back, braking well before the hairpin, and this time I had a n. I spun the wheel, and pulled the handbrake. The Corvega slid across the tarmac, smoke pouring from the back end, but I''d pulled off the tightest turn I think I''ve ever managed in my entire life. By the time he was exiting the hairpin, I was already passing between Turns 4 and 5.


    Even on the straightaway next to the drag strip, I was ahead... but not by much. As soon as hended on the straight, he poured on the speed and was right there, nted firmly in my back window. He fell back slightly before we approached the banked right hander of Turn 9, but not as much as I was expecting.


    Here we go, the final stretch. Shelby was behind me as I passed the wall of tires and we turned into the oval onest time. I had my foot nted on the floor, but as fast as I was going, Shelby was keeping up... and then he was starting to overtake me on the inside. I didn''t dare get that close to the gravel on this stretch, and he did, which meant that we were neck and neck all through the final banked curve right before the front stretch.


    The finish line was in sight now. The two cars were practically neck and neck; I couldn''t push my foot any further down into the floor. And the next thing I knew... we''d crossed the line.


    "Who won?" I said aloud, just as soon as I let off the gas and the car started to slow (and quiet) down. "I have no idea!" I looked over to Shelby, who was still keeping pace next to me in his Cobra even though I wasn''t even attempting race speed. He was looking at me with the widest grin I''ve ever seen, giving me the thumbs up.


    "And that, my friend, is what they mean by a photo finish!" Shelby sounded incredibly excited. After the race was over, he and I met up, shook hands, and he led me immediately to one of the empty ''driver''s briefing'' areas on the circuit. Inside was a massive monitor, and disyed on it was a grainy, ck and white picture that looked like it had been taken exactly level with the start/finish line.


    "Damn," I said aloud, finally making out what I was seeing. "You beat me by a nose." Sure enough, the unmistakable front end of Shelby''s Cobra was crossing the line on that image first; the front bumper of my car was just behind his front wheels as he was crossing the line. "Fair and square, that was a good race."


    "Good?!" Shelby practically shouted beforeughing. "Are you kidding? That was a great race!" I was a bit confused.


    "I thought you were looking for a challenge?" I asked. "Seemed like you won pretty easily." Shelby shook his head vigorously, but kept smiling.


    "No, I didn''t. I haven''t had to race that hard in <em>years</em>! No one has evere <em>that</em> close to beating me in a very, very long time. Hamilton has probablye the closest, with some of those crazy cars he''s built, but I''ve never seen him push a car as hard or drive it as fast as I saw you push that Corvega."


    "Well, I''ve never seen a car eat up straights like yours," I said, honestly. "Seriously - what is under that Cobra''s hood? It has to be like a V-a-million engine that runs on brimstone and baby owls or something."


    "You''re not far off. It''s a naturally aspirated V14, built from the ground up to run on JP-8." When he noticed my nk, uprehending stare, he exined. "It''s jet fuel, basically, refined from kerosene. Loyal found the recipe for it years ago in one of the Nellis technical manuals, and barrels of it are mixed up alongside the diesel that most of the cars in the motorpool run on."


    "No wonder I could barely keep up," I said, finally understanding. "I''m surprised it can''t take off." Shelby shrugged.


    "No wings. Now, listen," he patted me on the shoulder, still grinning like a madman. "I had tremendous fun today. You''ve got toe back and race me again - maybe on one of the other road circuits, outside the speedway. You are wee back anytime, mate." The two of us shook hands again.


    "Thanks," I said. "I''m definitely going to have to take you up on that. I''ve never had an adrenaline hit like I had today." I let go of his hand, and looked down to see... "I''m still shaking."


    "Y''know what? Here," Without warning, Shelby took off his cowboy hat, and plonked it on my head. "As a memento of you popping your cherry. Enjoy the victory, kid."


    "Victory?" I asked, confused once more. "But I lost. We have the photographic proof that I lost." I gestured to the screen, but Shelby just shook his head again.


    "The only reason you lost is because I know this track better than the back of my hand, and it was <em>still</em> close enough for a photo finish. If you went up against any of the other Gearheads, I almost guarantee you would just wipe the floor with them," Shelby chuckled softly to himself.


    "Okay... but... why the hat?" I looked up, trying to adjust it. It fit on my head surprisingly well. I wasn''t expecting that. Shelby shrugged.


    "Well, you said it was a nice hat before the race, so you seemed to like it. Thought you might appreciate it, especially if it reminds you of this first race. And... truth be told, I''ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of that hat for a while."


    "Seriously?" I asked, incredulously. This was a really nice hat, now I was really looking at it. "Why would you ever want to get rid of it?" Shelby just smiled and shrugged.


    "What can I say, the wife always hated that hat!"

 Chapter 70: Gomorrah

    Chapter 70: Gomorrah


    <em>Good evening to all my listeners out there in the Mojave Wastnd! You all look absolutely stunning tonight. It''s just about time we get you some news. Many Veteran NCR Rangers are being pulled off the front line, following the recent departure of Ranger Chief Hanlon from Camp Golf. ording to an anonymous source, this is part of a campaign to secure existing NCR territory west of the Mojave. Promotional consideration for this part of the program has been brought to you by Gomorrah: It''ll be our little secret. More ssicsing right up for you, so stay tuned. </em>


    By the time we''d said our goodbyes to all the Boomers and the Gearheads, collected everything, and started to head back to Vegas, it was starting to get dark. The ride back to the Lucky 38 was uneventful, but full of adoration for Hamilton''s work on my car. Specifically, the fact that the car now had <em>air conditioning</em>. Funny thing about AC... if you''ve never had it, you never miss it, but as soon as you get it, it''s the best thing in the world.


    By the time I rolled through Freeside (trying to get through the crowds of people who all wanted a look at my car without mowing any of them down), and all of us were packed into the Lucky 38''s elevator, it was definitely dark.


    "So," Veronica spoke up as the elevator trundled upward to the presidential suite. "Are you going to keep wearing that? Is this seriously going to be a thing now?"


    "Huh?" I looked at her, confused; she just pointed up. "Oh, the hat? Sure, why not?" Veronica sighed and shook her head.


    "I kinda like it, actually," Cass chimed in, giving me a thumbs up. Veronica rolled her eyes.


    "You''d be a spitting image of The Bandit if you shaved off everything but the mustache," Arcade spoke up, smirking at me. Veronica sighed again, and rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened.


    "I''m surrounded by rednecks..." Veronica shook her head as she stepped out of the elevator. One by one, everyone else all filed out of the elevator... but Cass stopped and turned to me when she realized I wasn''t following.


    "You go on ahead," I said, urging her on. "I''ll be back in a bit."


    "Goin'' up t''see House then, r''you?" she asked, grabbing hold of the elevator door to keep it open. I nodded.


    "Probably a good idea. If I don''t tell him the good news, he''ll probably pull me out of bed again," I said with a smirk that my emotions couldn''t back up. Cass, understandably, looked a little concerned.


    "Jus''... be careful, a''right?" She started stepping back into the elevator. "You know he''s gonna send y''on another real dangerous job, an'' I ain''t gonna always be there t''pull yer ass out''ve th'' fire."


    "If I recall," I loosened her grip on the elevator door, and ced a hand on her shoulder. "I was the one to save <em>you </em>when you fell in that sinkhole."


    "Wh... I mean..." Cass looked flustered, and her cheeks flushed red as she took a step back. "Y''jus''... shut up." I chuckled, patting her on the shoulder.


    "Thanks for worrying. But I''ll be fine." The elevator doors shut before she had a chance to argue further. As soon as the elevator started moving again, I sighed heavily and leaned against the back wall for support.


    She was right, of course. Sending me on another dangerous mission was probably <em>exactly</em> what House was going to do, just as soon as I told him an alliance with the Boomers had been secured. But what else could I do? I felt stuck... maybe House really <em>was</em> right. I''m just a mailman, caught up in events bigger than myself, and far beyond my ability to control.


    A voice nagged me in the back of my mind as the elevator doors opened onto the top floor: <em>"The only way to win in Vegas is to rig the game for yourself..."</em>


    "Wee back, Mr. Fisher," A metallic, feminine voice spoke up when the doors opened, breaking me out of my reverie. Two securitrons with female face-screens rolled into my view.


    "Hello Jane. Marilyn," I tipped my hat to the two robots as I passed. I looked around... I knew Victor was around here somewhere, but I had no idea where.


    "Mr. House is waiting for you, sugar," Jane spoke up, her face flickering slightly. I walked past the two of them, into House''s office. Sure enough, before I even finished walking down the stairs, House''s giant face flickered to life on the main monitor.


    "Have you made any progress with the Boomers, Mr. Fisher?" House boomed. I walked down the stairs as calmly as I could.


    "As a matter of fact, yes," I said, sticking my hands in my pockets as I came to a stop in front of the massive monitor. "Turns out, the Boomers are actually pretty nice once you get to know them. You just have to know what to say." I smiled up at the screen; House''s massive face on the monitor remained immobile, so I kept going. "Did you know they''ve taken over that racetrack north of Nellis? That track is great fun, it''s like an amusement park for car nuts! They''ve actually invited me back, so I was thinking I might-"


    "Perhaps I should be more clear, Mr. Fisher," House interrupted me, obviously annoyed. "Maybe then you will stop wasting my time. Did you secure an alliance with their leaders, or not?"


    "I thought that was obvious," I muttered under my breath. I cleared my throat. "Yes, Mr. House. I''ve secured their loyalty. They''ve promised to aid <em>me</em> in theing battle." I tried not to emphasize the word, but I''m pretty sure I failed. "As far as you should be concerned, they''ll do what I say."


    "Well done, Mr. Fisher. The Boomers and the firepower they posses will most certainly prove an advantage when the battle for Hoover Dames around."


    "You know, we really have to work on your people skills, House," I said. "I think you''d get a much better reaction if you were a little more polite. Treated people like people, rather than tools. I mean, seriously, the Boomers are good folk, once you get past the artillery fire."


    "Are you quite finished?" House at least waited until I''d finished speaking this time. "Their amiability ispletely inconsequential to the task at hand. I am trying to secure the future of New Vegas, and I do not posses the luxury ofmon courtesy, or ''ying nice.'' Caesar will not be forgiving if I stop to be polite, nor will the NCR''s President Kimball. Now," House cleared his throat. "Shall we discuss your next assignment?"


    Here ites.


    "Sure thing, House," I sighed, putting on my best fake smile. "What''s next?"


    "Don''t worry, this next assignment won''t take you far this time. I want you to check in on the Omertas, and their headquarters: that den of vice, Gomorrah."


    "The Omertas are one of the Three Families, right? " I asked. Probably Two Families now, I thought, after what happened to the Chairmen at the Tops...


    "Yes, although..." House paused for a few seconds. "When I recruited them, they called themselves the ''Slither Kin.'' They were a vicious n... not that that''s changed really. They were nomads and capable fighters, but their specialty was <em>betrayal</em>. They would invite wayward travelers into their yurts, drug them, and then murder or enve them. They took exceptional pride in their craft. I honestly don''t think Omertas see other people as people at all. Everyone else who isn''t them is just... <em>prey.</em> In a way, they reminded me of a certain criminal element Vegas used to attract. I told them some stories, gave them some clothes, and they ran with it. Quite fascinating to watch, really..." House''s tone took on a slightly bemused quality at the end there.


    "Alright, so they sound like a pretty... horrible bunch. What''s the problem?"


    "There isn''t one." House said tly. I did a double take, trying to work that around in my head.


    "I''m confused. Run that by me again?"


    "You must understand," House spoke slowly, as if what he was saying was obvious. "I''ve never expected <em>real</em> loyalty from the Omertas. A reliably underhanded tribe is just as constant to deal with as one that always runs true. But that''s just it -tely, the Omertas'' cooperative silence has been positively deafening. Not a singleint? They''re <strong>up</strong> to something."


    "Alright," I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "I''ll check into the Omertas for you. I guess if I''m sticking to The Strip, it shouldn''t take <em>that</em> long..." Hopefully. "Any idea on where to start?"


    "The Omertas are fanatically loyal to each other. Still, among any group, one can always find the asional degenerate. One of Gomorrah''s cashiers, a woman by the name of Rosanna, happens to be one. For years, she passed on whispers to my agents of what was taking ce at their headquarters in exchange for payment. A few months ago, however, she mmed up. Odds are, she''s scared, but I''ve had no way of approaching her directly."


    "So why can''t you just send in securitrons? Roll over the ce?" I asked. House grumbled and sighed.


    "<em>Because</em>, if I send in an overt show of force, any hope of finding out the truth of what''s going on behind their walls will evaporate. I daresay they are just as good - if not better - at being Mafioso''s than the original Sicilian Mafia. Any evidence would merely disappear, as if it was never there. And I cannot send any of my usual agents in - the Omertas thugs would recognize them immediately, and turn them away. That''s why I can''t get close to Rosanna. You, on the other hand, are an unknown. A wild card. Your reputation as ''The Courier'' has grown since your arrival on The Strip, but your appearance is not yet widely recognizable. That will allow you to get inside. Find Rosanna. Start with her." And with that, House''s face winked off the main screen, and out of view. I started to make my way out of House''s office to leave, but I was blocked by a securitron standing in my way.


    "Well, howdy pardner," Victors unmistakable drawl sounded off, and his smiling cowboy face flickered slightly. "I have to say, that''s a mighty fine hat you''ve got there, buckaroo."


    "Victor," I red up at the robot as I came to a stop just in front of him. "What, are you here to manhandle me into the elevator likest time? I''d rather you didn''t, I still have the bruises." Victor startedughing slowly; the sound took on a strange quality from the electronic modtion of his robotic voicebox, and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.


    "Don''t you worry, pardner. There won''t be a need for any more unpleasantness between the two of us cowpokes... just so long as y''all remember who you''re working for." Victor prodded me in the chest with one of his metal w-fingers; it was like he was trying to push me over, but I held firm against him. "Do we have an understandin'', pardner?"


    "Yeah, Victor," I pushed his w away, and stepped into the elevator. "We have an understanding."


    Before I headed out, I stopped off in my room to arm up. Sure, this time I wasn''t going all that far... but that didn''t mean people weren''t going to try and kill me. Halfway through checking my guns and gear, I was interrupted by a voice from the door.


    "Preppin'' fer a fight?" Cass asked as she leaned against the doorframe. Damnit, I was hoping to do this without anyone noticing. They''d done so much for me thesest couple of days... I couldn''t keep asking them to do stuff like this just because House wanted it done. Besides, if House was right and this was just a stealthy fact-finding mission, then the less heavily armed and armored boots on the ground, the better. Didn''t want them getting spooked and going to ground.


    I just shrugged, trying not to convey any of my thoughts on my face, and put That Gun in the holster on the back of my belt.


    "Not really. Just going for a walk, that''s all." Cass didn''t look convinced - especially when I put the 12.7mm submachine gun into my underarm sling.


    "Uh-huh. Jus'' goin'' fer a walk. An'' that''s why y''look like yer armin'' up t''storm th'' Fort, is it?"


    "Hey, we got mugged in Freeside the other night, remember?" I said, sliding the Ranger Sequoia into my underarm holster. "You regretted not brining your shotgun. It''s no more than being prepared."


    "So, what did House want ya t''do next?" Cass walked in, and started checking out the Anti-Materiel rifle leaning against my desk.


    "Didn''t say," I grabbed the switchde and the brass knuckles off the desk, sliding them into a concealed pocket inside my Riot Gear chestte. "He thanked me for the good job with the Boomers, then said he''d tell me the next assignment in the morning."


    "An'' y''expect me t''believe that?" Cass hefted up the massive rifle, looking down the scope, not really aiming at anything. I shrugged, putting my duster and my hat back on as I left.


    "Probably not," I smiled, patting her on the shoulder. "Don''t worry, I''m just going for a walk. I''ll be back soon."


    Gomorrah was probably the least impressive casino on The Strip. It sat there like a gigantic square-headed cement block next to the pavement, 15 stories high. The sign over the door was lit both from within and above with fire, spelling out "GOMORRAH" in an exotic script. On either side of the sign, there were two ck silhouettes of reclining women with hourss figures and their legs in the air; they almost looked like the mudp girls I''d seen on big-rig trucks, back in NCR territory. Aside from the female cut-outs ringed with lights, everything about the casino looked like it had been set on fire: the only colors I even saw on the building other than ck were dark reds, burnt oranges, and browns.


    I reached into my leather duster, and pulled out - DAMN! I was out of smokes. The box I''d stolen from Dean had finally run out. When did that happen? Had that happened earlier and I just hadn''t noticed?


    "Hey there, friend," I heard a voice cut through the noise and bustle of the crowd on The Strip. "Need a light?" The voice belonged to a redheaded man in sunsses. He had a full beard, a dirty white suit with grey pinstripes, and a dark tie hanging loosely around his neck. He was leaning against one of Gomorrah''s outer walls,pletely indifferent to the nearby crowds. I walked toward him, showing him the empty box.


    "No, but I am in the market for smokes. Got any?" There was a nagging part of my brain, yelling at me for picking up the habit again. I guess it''s true what they say: nobody ever really quits. The man in the dirty suit shook his head.


    "Sorry, friend. Cigarettes aren''t my business." I raised an eyebrow.


    "And what is your business?" I asked. He smiled at me again, and held out his hand; I shook it, almost without thinking.


    "Name''s Mister Holdout. My stock in trade? <em>Protection</em>. All kinds of easy to hide weapons for slipping into and out of casinos. Stuff small enough for the guards to miss when they''re patting you down, or checking for iron on your hip. With my product, they won''t give you a second nce." I raised an eyebrow at him.


    "And what makes you think I need protection?" I asked, honestly. He just shook his head.


    "I suppose protection is the wrong word... See the only way to get weapons into casinos is to sneak them in. One fellow I knew was able to slip a pistol past the guards, but you?" He looked me up and down andughed. "Mister, I have seen fewer guns in an armory. You walk in looking like that? They''re bound to stop you." Maybe that''s the idea, I thought to myself.


    "Thanks for the offer," I said, shoving the empty box of cigarettes back into my pocket. "But I think I can manage without some second-hand guns from a guy with a fake name. No offense." He rolled his eyes and shrugged, waving me off.


    "Suit yourself. It''s not my fault if they find your body dumped in Freeside."


    A few minutester, I was walking through the front doors... and almost immediately after stepping foot into the casino, I was stopped by a big burly thug in a dark grey suit, matching fedora hat, and sunsses. Why was everyone wearing sunsses? The sun went a couple hours ago!


    "Where d''you think you''re going pal?" He grabbed me by the shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. "No one but Omertas are allowed to carry guns into Gomorrah." As he spoke, he patted a sawn-off shotgun hanging off his hip.


    "Alright, fine," I sighed, looking up at him. He led me to a nearby desk. I sighed, knowing what he was implying. "Right, but you asked for it."


    I reached into my duster, and pulled out the 12.7mm submachine gun hooked on the sling under my arm, and set it on the desk with a heavy thud. Followed by the MP5 attached to a sling on my belt. Followed by That Gun. Followed by the Ranger Sequoia. Followed by a .357 magnum that I pulled off my right-thigh holster. Followed by a sawn off shotgun that I pulled off my left hip. Followed by thebat knife on my boot. Followed by a switchde - which I switched open, and shoved into the desk de-first.


    "Do not lose these," I said, pointing at the thug, and then at my small pile of weapons on the desk. He reached beneath the desk, and handed me a small metal tab with a red "42" painted on it.


    "That''s your im ticket. Don''t lose <em>that</em>, and you''ll get your guns back on your way out." He gestured to door leading deeper into the casino. "Enjoy your stay at Gomorrah."


    It wasn''t until after I was well out of sight and into the casino that I let out a small, satisfied smirk. My n worked: put on such a show, getting rid of my weapons, that he wouldn''t think to pat me down. I couldn''t <em>possibly</em> be carrying any more guns after all those, right? And that meant I still had Roscoe, tucked securely (and rather ufortably) into the back of my pants, underneath the Riot Gear. Plus, I still had a pair of brass knuckles... and a spare switchde.


    Tell you this about the Mojave: certainly makes you more prepared. I never used to carry this many weapons everywhere I went. Didn''t feel I had the need. I wonder what that said about me?


    As I walked around the casino floor, I couldn''t help but notice that the interior seemed to match the exterior: a mass of reds, burnt oranges, and browns. The whole room was filled with a miasma of swirling smoke, giving the whole ce a dingy, shabby sort of charm. In the center of the main casino floor was a massive fire pit, and above it was another lounging female silhouette like the ones on the signs out front - except this one was spinning. All around were the sounds and sights of people gambling their money away, smoking just as often as breathing. Aside from the fire everywhere, it seemed like a pretty normal casino...


    Of course, that''s about the time I looked <em>up</em>. Hanging from the ceiling were half a dozen ck steel cages, all with stripper poles in the middle, and every single one of the cages had dancing girls inside. They were all in various states of... well, half naked was probably being <em>generous</em>. I think one of them was just wearing <em>tape</em>.


    "Well that''s... different." I said aloud. I couldn''t think of anything else to say. I think thest time I''d seen cages like that was when I''d been captured by raiders up by math. They had people in cages hanging from the ceiling, too... except none of the prisoners there were dancing. At least, not unless one of the raiders got bored and starting taking potshots at the captives. But that''s another story.


    I shook off the bad old memories, and looked around. House said I was looking for a female cashier named Rosanna. The cashiers desk was off on one side of the wall, and when I looked at the three cashiers on duty behind the thick brass bars, only one of them was female. The dark-haired girl in the turquoise dress was too busy counting bills to notice when I approached.


    "Hey there," I said, giving her my warmest, and hopefully most disarming smile. She looked up immediately, putting the NCR bills off to the side.


    "Hello, and wee to Gomorrah," she said with a fake smile. Fair enough, mine wasn''t exactly genuine, either. "How would you like your chips, sir? We ept caps, NCR dors, and Legion coins as eptable currency."


    "You''re Rosanna, right?" I said, keeping up my smile. Hers, on the other hand, faded. "Thought so. I''m actually not here for chips. I''m here to collect on an outstanding bnce: one for some information." She closed her eyes, grimaced, and sighed heavily.


    "Damnit," she said under her breath. "I knew someone would call in that mark eventually. What do you want to know?"


    "I need to find out what the Omertas are up to. And that means I need <em>you</em> to tell <em>me</em> who to talk to about what''s been going down in Gomorrah." I smiled at her again. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" She looked around, casting furtive nces all around the casino floor, and then she leaned forward, surreptitiously gesturing for me to do the same.


    "All I can tell you," she whispered to me through the bars, "is to find Cachino. He''s the lowest level Lieutenant you''re going to be able to talk to. Some of the girls say he''s been involved in some shady business the Family wouldn''t approve of. Ask him about it."


    "Where can I find him?" I asked, my voice matching her whisper. She leaned back and shook her head weakly.


    "Uh-uh. I''ve done too much already." From beneath her counter, she pulled out a small metal sign (CLOSED) and set it on the counter in front of the hole in the metal bars. "You want to find Cachino, you do it yourself. Bnce paid. Tell whoever sent you <em>that</em>."


    The deeper I ventured into Gomorrah, the moremonce the dancing girls became. So did the fire pits, actually... Eventually, I found myself in a bar that wouldn''t have looked out of ce in one of the strip joints on New Reno''s Virgin Street. The ceiling was easily two stories high, and against one wall was a stage, with a floor-to-ceiling stripper pole directly in center stage... and a topless dancer spinning upside down halfway up. On either side of the stage were more dancing girls in cages. Instead of lights ringing the stage, there was a line of fire, and a few pots that asionally spit bursts of more fire into the air.


    At least they were consistent.


    The ce was packed. There were hardly any empty seats at all, and every one of them was filled by men drooling over the girls dancing on stage and in the cages... and more than a few women drooling as well. Eventually though, I did find an empty seat: at the end of the bar, on the opposite end of the room from the stage.


    "Can I get you anything, sweetheart?" I heard a silky voice say from behind me. I turned around, and saw a young woman behind me. She was wearing a tight torn ck tee-shirt, a leather cor around her neck, a torn miniskirt, almost stupidly high heels - but not much else - and was holding a tray of drinks. "Whiskey? Vodka? Or maybe somethin'' a little..." She eyed me up and down, smiling. "...stronger?"


    "Maybeter. Got any smokes?" I asked. She smiled again, and reached into her shirt, down her cleavage, and pulled out a fresh packet of cigarettes. I couldn''t help butugh. "Nice. What else you got down there?"


    "Maybeter you can find out," she winked, holding the packet just out of reach. "That''ll be 10 caps, honey." I gave her the caps; she gave me the smokes. She even held out a light for my first one. It may not have been sincere, but... have to admit, it felt nice.


    "Thanks," I took a long draw, letting out a long trail of smoke that mingled with the rest in the air. "Oh, before you go - do you know where I can find Cachino?" She just smiled sweetly again, and snapped the lighter shut.


    "Don''t worry," she said, shaking her hips as she slowly walked away. "I''m sure he''ll find you soon."


    She was right, of course. I''d barely been alone for five minutes - I hadn''t even gotten the beer I''d ordered from the bartender - when a hand grabbed me from behind, and spun me around on the barstool. The man responsible looked middle aged, and barely had any hair on his head. He was wearing a dark grey suit, with a red button-up shirt the color of blood underneath, and no tie. Needless to say, his expression was a massive scowl.


    "I hear you been askin'' questions about me, dickweed," he got right in my face, grabbing me by the cor of my duster. "The fuck do you want?"


    "You Cachino?" I asked, brushing his hand away and getting up off my stool.


    "Who''s askin''? Who the fuck are you?" I tried to ignore the spittle flying out of his scowling face.


    "Well, if you are Cachino, I''m here to talk some business you might be interested in." He took a step back, nting his feet; I think he was expecting me to take a swing at him.


    "Business? What the fuck do you mean, <em>business</em>? You lookin'' to get yourself burned, fucker?" He prodded my chestte armor several times. "Now, you start talkin'' real clear, and I mean absolutely-fucking-crystal-clear, because I am about to lose my patience. You don''t want to see me when I lose my patience, ya piece of trash!"


    "Straight to the point then," I said. "I hear you''ve been dealing with some business that is... off the books. I-" Cachino shoved me and got back in my face before I finished.


    "I don''t give half a <strong>dick</strong> what you''ve heard, fuckhead! Now, you best stop talkin'' shit, and get the <strong>fuck</strong> out of my face before I burn your sorry ass!" Cachino shoved me again, and turned on his heel, walking off.


    Well. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but... it was a start. I shook the tree, and Cachino fell out. If I could find out what he was up to, get something solid to use against him, maybe I could get him to help me... whether he wanted to or not.


    I needed to find some leverage.

 Chapter 71: Leverage

    Chapter 71: Leverage


    <em>Hey, hey, wee back to the program, I''m your host Mr. New Vegas. If you like news, then you''re gonna love our next segment. It seems The Courier hase back to Vegas, and he''s got himself a fresh set of wheels. I''ve gotten several reports of a car that passed through Freeside about an hour ago, that matches the description of the Indestructible Courier''s ride, but with a few changes: clean finish, white racing stripes on that dark blue exterior, and arge number 6 on the side. I hope you''re not trying to be subtle, Courier, because that''s really not going to work. Ladies and gentlemen, this next song goes out from me to you."</em>


    Ding.


    On the top floor, a set of elevator doors opened. When no one appeared to get out, one of the Omerta thugs looked inside.


    "Hey, Mickey," the thug looking inside turned to the other one, who was standing guard at the other set of elevator doors. "You call for this thing?"


    "Hey, don''t look at me, I didn''t touch nothin''." The other thug held up his hands, and shrugged his shoulders.


    "Ehh," the first thug waved it off. "Fuckin'' thing must be onna fritz again. Call one''ve those eggheads the boss'' got on payroll, take a look at this thing..."


    I didn''t hear much more from those two guys after that, as I was making my way down the hallway -pletely concealed by the stealth field generated by the device on my wrist. As soon as I was sure I waspletely out of sight, I deactivated the stealth boy, and appeared in a shimmer of electricity and ozone. Something told me it was going to be a long night ahead, and I''d need to conserve energy for that thing. I hadn''t brought an infinite supply of stealth boys with me, as useful as that would be.


    It took a few palms greased the right way, but I was eventually able to get some information from a couple of girls downstairs about where I could find Cachino''s room. The top floor of Gomorrah was where all the important members of the Omertas lived. I expected more guards up here, but as soon as I cleared the elevators and the two thugs guarding them... there was no one.


    Eventually, I found my way to Cachino''s room, following the directions I''d been given: Room 1517. I checked over my shoulder - yep, still empty - and broke out my lockpicking kit. In less than a minute, I had the door open and slipped into the room as quietly as I could.


    Cachino''s room was clean, but it still looked somewhat lived-in - and that meant there definitely had to be something here. I passed by a fully stocked bar - ignoring the temptation to steal any bottles of booze - and focused on trying to find something useful I could steal. Cachino was running something off the Omertas "official" books, which meant he must have his <em>own</em> books somewhere around here. He really didn''t seem the type tomit everything to memory.


    I checked some of the usual spots people would normally hide things, and came up empty... but then I started looking closer. It wasn''t until I went back to the desk that I found what I was looking for: one of the drawers had a false bottom, and inside was a journal.


    I started flipping through it, just to be sure this was what I was looking for. Even the most cursory nce indicated that this journal documented thest few months of Cachino''s activities: all of his activities. There were several ledger pages in the book, detailing over two dozen business ventures: drug deals, weapons sales, that sort of thing, and it was painfully obvious (even to someone like me) that these were all done under the table, without the other bosses'' knowledge.


    Aside from the shady business deals, the journal entries went into - almost ufortably graphic - details about all of Cachino''s sexual "conquests" of what must have been fully half the prostitutes at Gomorrah.


    The one thing I noticed about the book was that after every single off-the-books sale and sexual tryst, he always wrote: "That''s it. No more. This is thest one, I''m done with this."


    When I found Cachino again, it was back downstairs, in one of the lower levels. ording to the sign out front, this was "The Gambino Steakhouse." There weren''t any cages down here, but there were a lot of deep, dark mahogany colors, and the seats at all the tables were lined with rich, red leather. There were dozens of tables in the smoky restaurant, but I found Cachino in a secluded, darkened booth near the back wall. He was too busy digging into a steak, with a bottle of whiskey on the table next to him, to notice me until I slid into the seat opposite him.


    "Hi," I said, smiling. With a look of shock and surprise on his face, he practically spit out the piece of steak he was trying to eat. He grabbed a nearby napkin, and wiped his mouth before going back to scowling at me.


    "You again?" He tried to keep his voice down; this restaurant wasn''t as noisy as the bar with the stripper poles upstairs. I can imagine that too much yelling would attract too much attention. "What the fuck do you want? Can''t you see I''m eatin''?"


    "Yeah, I''m sorry to barge in on you like this..." No I wasn''t. "But it''s like I said before. I want to talk some business. In fact..." I leaned forward with my elbows on the table, maintaining the same smile. "I think I have something that you would be <em>very</em> interested in retrieving..."


    "Oh yeah?" He just seemed to scowl even more. "Like what, dickhead?" I leaned back, reached under my Riot Gear''s chestpiece, and pulled out the small leather-bound book, holding it in the air. At the sight of his journal, he didn''t <em>quite</em> stop scowling, but his eyes went as wide as the te his steak was sitting on.


    "You recognize this, don''t you?" I said. "Of course you do."


    "Where the <strong>fuck</strong> did you get that?" He no longer lookedpletely angry; worry was starting to win out, especially when I shoved the ledger back underneath my armor. "Okay, look... listen, buddy... that... that''s some dangerous shit you''ve got there. That book could get me killed, or worse. If the wrong people see it... look, let''s talk, what do you want? Money? Women? I got a lotta pull around here, so whatever you want for that, I can get it, you know what I''m sayin''?"


    I shook my head slowly, still smiling, and "tsk, tsk, tsk" -ing him. Wonderful thing, leverage. It can get even the most uncooperative individuals talking - and usually, getting leverage isn''t this easy.


    "You misunderstand me, Cachino. I''m not looking for money. And I''ve heard enough stories about the whores here. I''m not going to risk my dick dropping off."


    "So... what then?" If I thought he looked worried <em>before</em>... Now, he just looked confused. I took off my hat, set it on the table between us, and leaned back in the booth.


    "Your bosses, the guys who run the Omertas? They''ve been awful quiettely. So quiet, in fact, that it''s got certain people suspicious as to what''s really going on behind these walls. Wondering exactly what it is your bosses are nning. If you want this back," I patted my chest. "Then I''m gonna need your help figuring out what your bosses have nned... and, if need be, putting an end to it." He just sort of stared at me for a minute or two, trying to figure me out.


    "Who are you?" He asked - this time, with no malice in his voice, just curiosity. "Who''re you workin'' for?"


    "Me? I''m nobody..." I leaned forward and ran my hand through my hair - and made sure the bullet scar on my forehead was front and center. "I''m just a... <em><strong>courier</strong></em>." All of the color drained from Cachino''s face instantly, and he had the look of a man who''d just emptied his bowels.


    "Oh <strong>FUCK</strong>!" He managed to cough out. He put up his hands, and tried to push himself away from me, despite the seat in his way. "L-l-listen, man, I don''t want any trouble! I''ll help you out with whatever you got nned, just... just don''t hurt me! This doesn''t need to get bloody!"


    "Oh, so you <em>have</em> heard of me?" I smirked, putting my hat back on. Cachino just nodded, a look of utter and unrelenting terror on his face.


    "Are you kidding? Fuck, man, everyone on The Strip knows about the courier Benny tried to ice outside Goodsprings... And everyone knows how that <strong>ended</strong>. The Tops is a graveyard because of you. Ever since you showed up, things have started to explode, like the Silver Rush, and people just end up <strong>dead</strong>. More than usual."


    "So, you''ll help me then?" I asked. He started nodding like crazy.


    "Of course I''ll help... fuck... I''m not stupid enough to get on The Couriers bad side. I''d much rather be your friend than your enemy any day." I tried my damndest to hold back augh. Hell, if I''d known scaring him like this was going to work this well, I would''ve led with that.


    "Alright," I pulled the journal back out of my armor and slid it across the table to him. "Here''s the journal. Now... what do you know?" He grabbed the journal, flipping through it quickly once, before sliding it behind him. He ran a hand over his skull, and tried to calm himself down.


    "Right... there we go. Now... about the Family''s business... The two Bosses, Big Sal and Nero? They''ve been working for a while on some kind of n. I don''t know much, just that it involves a lot of guns and outside muscle... and it''s <strong>big</strong>. Very big. Only Nero and Big Sal know everything, and they ain''t telling. They''ve been arming themselves like an army, using this new guy, Troike. They also brought in a specialist from out of town... er, some guy named nden. At least... that''s how they introduced him." After he finished, Cachino reached for the bottle of whiskey, and poured himself a fresh ss - downing it immediately.


    "What kind of specialist is nden?" I asked. If I had to take a guess, I''d say that ''specialist'' meant ''assassin,'' but it could be any number of things... all of them, probably bad. Cachino shrugged.


    "I got no fuckin'' idea. They let him have the run of the ce, though. On the outside, he seems like a nice enough guy, but... I dunno, man. There''s somethin'' about him that makes me nervous. Little arrogant, but he''s too nice. Too open. I''ve never seen him fuckin'' or gambling. Everyone has a vice, but this guy seems like the Pope."


    "What about Troike?" I asked, trying to work everything he was telling me over in my head. "What do you know about him?"


    "He''s a skittish little fucker, that''s what I know. Spends half the day pumping his body full of chems, and the other half pumping hookers with his pecker. Other than that, he''s got <em>some</em> kind of connections, because he''s able to smuggle huge shipments of weapons into the Strip past NCR customs like it was nothing. But the Bosses got him by the short hairs - they covered up a hooker he killed while flying on some psycho, so he gets them guns in exchange for not ratting."


    The first thing I thought, of course, was: rat to whom?


    "Where can I find nden?" I asked. Whatever kind of specialist he was, he was definitely bound to be bad news. Better to take out the hard target first, and get it over with.


    "I don''t know... This time of night, he could be anywhere. But I think he has a room somewhere on the 13th floor. More than that, I couldn''t say."


    "Alright," I said, getting up out of the booth. "Thanks for the info. I may have more questionster." Cachino took another shot of whiskey, and nodded up at me.


    "Okay... Look, if you need me, you can find me here, or upstairs in the Club Vito, the one with all the dancing girls and the two-story stripper pole. I''ll let the muscle know you''re a friend of mine... that should let you get around a little easier, capisch?"


    "Thanks," I said, giving him a small nod. "I''ll be back soon."


    Ding.


    The elevator doors slid open, and I started looking around. I''m the first to admit, ''a room on the 13th floor'' isn''t much information to go on. More than anything else though, I needed to narrow down the search somehow... Was I just going to have to knock on doors, and hope whoever was behind it wasn''t going to shoot me?


    Wait a minute. You moron, there''s an easier way to do this.


    I blinked, and everything was suddenly covered in a wash of blues. The thermal vision seemed to be working perfectly, and... wait, hang on. I started looking around and couldn''t help but shake the feeling that something was wrong. There didn''t appear to be any significant heat signatures anywhere on this floor. Was something wrong with my cybeic eyes?


    I looked down, and saw several indistinct splotches of faint red and orange that <em>almost</em> looked like people... and the same went for the floor above. But I couldn''t see anything that looked even remotely like human shapes where I was. Was the 13th floorpletely empty?


    I got my answer after wandering around for a few minutes, trying to use my thermal vision to look through every surface: no, I wasn''t alone. There was only one other person - or, at least, there was an indistinct mass of heat that resembled a humanoid shape, at least. I tried to get closer, figure out exactly which room it wasing from... I switched my eyes back to normal, to try and reacquaint myself. I looked around, and realized that I''d followed the trail of heat to one of the corner suites in the hotel.


    Of course, as I was staring at the door at the end of the hall, I heard several series of clicks - even from this distance, I could tell it was the sound of locks being unbolted. I looked around, trying to find a ce to hide - there! A small alcove with a broken ice machine, and a flickering Nuka C vending machine. I ducked in just as I saw the door start to open out of the corner of my eye. As quietly as I could, I fumbled with the stealth boy on my arm, and it felt like an agonizingly long time before that familiar ''bucket of ice water sshed against my face'' sensation washed over me, mixed with the tiniest belch of ozone.


    And just in the nick of time, too. As soon as I disappeared (or, became transparent enough, at least...) I heard the door open and a pair of footstepsing down the hall, getting closer. I reached under my armor, and grabbed hold of the switchde, just to be on the safe side. I held my breath, and tried not to move as the steps got closer and closer. That''s about when he stepped into view.


    Part of me wanted to say that he didn''t look all that impressive. The man was of about average height, wearing a surprisingly clean brown three-piece suitplete with a... was that a bow tie? No... no, it was more like a string tie, just <em>tied</em> in a bow. Who did that? He was wearing a brown hat on his head that matched his suit, and perched on the bridge of his nose was a pair of small, circle-shaped sses that somehow managed to obscure his eyes no matter which direction he looked.


    He didn''t look dangerous at all - he sort of looked like a businessman, or a bureaucrat back in the NCR - and yet, for some reason... I don''t know, there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn''t put my finger on it, but looking at him just sent a shiver up my spine.


    At first, I thought he was going to walk right by my hiding spot.. but he didn''t. He just... stood there, slowly and methodically scanning the area, no more than 3 feet from where I was crouched in the shadows. His gaze passed over me... but then kept going. I tried not to move, breathe, or even <em>think</em>... especially when he stuck his nose in the air and started <em>sniffing</em>. Could he smell the ozone from the stealth boy? That was bad news. If he could, then I was definitely made.


    But no. Just as suddenly as he stopped in front of my hiding spot, he moved off again, walking away down the hall. I listened intently as his steps got softer and softer... until they were cut offpletely, and I heard the unmistakable "Ding!" of the elevator. I let out an enormous sigh of relief, and practically copsed.


    Right. That was definitely nden, I''m sure of it. But other than that, I didn''t know anything about him, or what he was up to. Time to change that...


    The door to nden''s room opened with a satisfying click. I shoved the lockpick kit back into my pocket and gently pushed against the door, sliding it open as carefully as I could. I don''t know why, but for some reason I was getting increasingly paranoid, and I was half expecting the door to be booby trapped. Just as soon as I was convinced that there wasn''t a shotgun mounted next to the door, or a tripwire attached to some explosives, and shut the door behind me.


    I started searching the room, trying to find something of use. This room was slightly smaller than Cachino''s room... for one thing, it didn''t have a bar. But as this was a corner room, there were plenty of floor to ceiling windows - with all the curtains drawn. Seemed a bit of a waste, getting a corner room like this and keeping the windows obscured. The view of Vegas this time of night was bound to be impressive.


    Right, focus. Forget about the windows, you''ve got to start looking around for... hold up, what''s that?


    I was just about to head deeper into the room, and start my search at the desk, when I passed by a wardrobe standing up against a wall. Normally, I wouldn''t have given it a second nce, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the carpet underneath the wardrobe''s feet had been disturbed. Which probably meant...


    I pulled the wardrobe away from the wall, and sure enough, there was a safe behind it. I pressed my ear against the safe, and started to slowly turn the dial, listening for the tumbler pins against the wheels. Three clickster, and the safe popped open. With any luck, this would be what I was looking for, and I could get back down to Cachino and n the next move.


    There wasn''t all that much inside, but there was enough. The first thing that caught my eye was a holotape, with abel on the side that said "Troike." Apart from that, there were a few papers, so I started shuffling through them, scanning their contents. At first nce, it looked like schematics for some kind of machine... maybe a delivery system for some kind of gas. There was also a sheet that read like a shopping list, and right at the top (underlined and circled several times for good measure) was the word "CHLORINE."


    I didn''t get a chance to see much more than that, unfortunately. At that precise moment, I heard some faint movement right behind me - and then, before I had a chance to really react, a pair of arms came down over my head, knocking my hat off, sending the papers in my hands flying, and something thin and sharp started pressing hard against my throat.


    I struggled, trying to tighten my neck muscles, and could feel my eyes bulge from the pain. I reached up, trying to w the wire away from my throat, but the hands behind my neck held firm on the piano wire, even when I tried twisting myself around in his grip, trying to get free.


    "I bet you thought I''d left, didn''t you?" A soft voice whispered in my ear. "I knew you were there from the moment I smelled the ozone..." This must be nden. Oh joy.


    I mmed the back of my head into his face; there was a satisfying crack against my skull, I heard him yell something iprehensible, and his grip began to loosen. I managed to snake my leg around his, and I pushed back against him with all my might. We both stumbled and fell to the ground - and he let go of one side. With a gasp and a shudder I tried to push up and away from him - but he was keeping me pinned with the leg I''d used to trip him up in the first ce.


    I elbowed him while I tried to twist around - I turned so far the bones in my spine popped several times - and tried toe at him with a left cross. I don''t know how, but he managed to deflect the blow, and all I ended up hitting was floor. nden tried to kick me several times close to the midsection; I''m sure he hit me, but with all the armor I was wearing, I barely even felt it. But that wasn''t important: he''d let go of my leg, and wasn''t pinning me anymore.


    I pushed off against the ground, and practically leapt away from him, rolling against the ground and trying to get back up. From behind me, I heard a series of rapid clicks of metal against metal. Whatever it was, it wasn''t good, so I reached under my chestte and pulled out the switchde. I managed to flick it open with a click just in time to see ndening at me with a butterfly knife.


    I was on my feet, but he wasing so fast I barely had any time to react. I brought up my arm, and the de bounced off my Pip Boy with a sh and a few sparks. It seemed enough to distract him, because I managed to cut his cheek when I countered with a swipe of my own.


    He came at me again,pletely ignoring the open wound on his face. For a split second, I thought he wasing at me with the knife hand, so I brought up my Pip Boy again, and readied the switchde; but instead, he grabbed me with his free hand, and yanked my arm down, flicking the butterfly knife around in his hands; he was holding it high above his head, ready to bring it down on me de-first.


    I pushed off against the ground and mmed my shoulder into his chest. He was knocked off bnce, and I tried to stab him in the gut... but he must have used the momentum of the hit or something because he jumped out of the way. I reared up, nting my back feet, and readying the knife again. He was in a simr stance, several feet away from me, a trail of blood leaking out of his cheek.


    "You don''t know who you''re messing with, do you?" I asked, in the most dangerous voice I could muster. He merely brought a hand up to his cheek, and wiped some of the blood away calmly, staring at me and never breaking eye contact.


    "Of course I do, Courier," nden said in a voice barely above a whisper. He was on me again in a sh. I was able to dodge the first swipe, but he was a lot quicker than I was expecting. I tried shing at him again, but he ducked out of the way, and caught my knife hand on the way past. He grabbed my thumb and yanked it sideways; I couldn''t help but yell in pain, and drop the de. Doesn''t matter how tough you are, a thumb hold is probably the simplest, most effective way of disabling someone.


    "End of the line, Courier," nden said, twirling the butterfly knife around his thumb again until he was holding it like an ice pick. He brought it down into the center of my chest with all his might and -


    Thunk. My chestte stopped the de cold. nden must have been surprised, because his expression was one of shock, and his grip on my thumb loosened.


    "Maybe for you," I growled, grabbing him by the suitpels, and smashing my forehead against his face with all the strength I could muster. The butterfly knife dropped to the ground with a tter, and he recoiled, a spurt of blood flying out his nose. I came at him with a left swing, and despite the blood flowing out of his nose, he managed to deflect the blow. He returned the favor, and I wasn''t fast enough to block it this time or get out of the way. I momentarily saw stars as he busted me across the chops with a strong left hit.


    I countered with a right hook - which he deflected again. I swung around, trying to smash my right elbow against his face, but he managed to block the blow mid-swing. Then he did the same thing to me that I''d done to him earlier: he mmed his shoulder into my chest and bum-rushed me across the floor.


    He was amazingly strong for his size - I know I was surprised when he managed to push me all the way across the room and m me into the wardrobe. He started punching me in the midsection over and over, each hit steadily changing from a hard metal thud to a dull wet one. He wasn''t really doing any damage: all he was hitting was more armor.


    His shoulder was buried in the center of my chest, and he was still trying to punch through the Riot Gear chestte when I brought my elbow down hard on his back. That seemed enough to get him to withdraw away from me. I tried to follow up with a knee to his chest, but he''d managed to slip away, getting back into a defensive posture several feet away. When he brought his hands up, I could see that the fist he used to try and hit me through my armor was now bleeding profusely.


    "Someone should''ve told you," I spat out some blood; he must have hit me harder than I thought. "I''m not so easy to kill."


    nden came at me again, swinging at me with a right hook so telegraphed he might has well have been shouting at me through a loudspeaker. I ducked out of the way, and hit him with an uppercut to the kidneys, followed by a left jab across the face. Before he could react, I grabbed his clothes, and threw him against the wardrobe; the wardrobe door split in half with a crack as his head went straight through.


    As he tried to pull himself out of the door, I reached under my armor and pulled out my brass knuckles, slipping them on. As soon as his head was visible, I hit him as hard as I could, right in the middle of his face. He reeled backward away from me, clutching his bleeding face.


    I hit him with the brass knuckles again, smashing him across the jaw. He stumbled backward, practically crashing into one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He clutched at the drapes; I couldn''t tell if he was trying to use them as a weapon, or just looking for something to hold on to, but either way, all he ended up doing was tearing them free.


    I hit him again; his head smashed into the ss, blood flying out of his mouth and small spider-web cracks appearing at the impact point. He seemed so stunned, that he didn''t even appear to notice when I uppercut him in the gut twice. I hit him once more in the face for good measure, then grabbed him by his hair, twisting him around, and smashing him face-first into the window. More spider-web cracks appeared in the ss.


    "Alright," I said, shoving my Pip Boy against his neck to pin him against the ss; he grimaced, and let out a gurgling sort of yell, blood sttering out of his nose and mouth onto the ss. "Here''s what''s going to happen. You''re gonna tell me exactly who you really are. You''re going to tell me what the Omerta bosses are up to, and how you''re involved. And if you don''t tell me <em>now</em>, well... I''m sure I can think of... <em>other</em> ways to get the information out of you."


    "You - you''re a terrible negotiator, Courier," nden coughed again, a half-snarl, half-smile working its way onto his features. "D-do you know wh-why? You''re got no leverage!" I punched him in the back several times. He yelled, thrashing under my grip.


    "Don''t I?" I pressed harder against the back of his neck with my Pip Boy. "Why don''t you just tell me what I want to know, hmm? Before I decide to make your death <em>really</em> painful." nden choked and coughed again, spitting up more blood.


    "Torture me all you want, <strong>profligate</strong>. I will never talk!"


    And just like that, the nature of the game changed irrevocably.


    "Hmph..." I held firm against him, processing this new information. "You''ve already told me everything I need to know. Only members of Caesar''s Legion call other people profligate." His expression switched from pain to fury, and he thrashed against my grip again - harder this time. "Let me guess - you''re one of Vulpes'' men? He should know better by now." He just growled and snarled.


    "I''ve got nothing more to say to you," He tried to spit at me, but he couldn''t seem to angle his head that far back under my grip.


    I gripped hold of his hair as tight as I could, and grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling him away from the window... and then shoving him forward again with all my might. The already weakened ss gave way, seemingly exploding outward and shattering into millions of tiny shards. I let go of nden, and let him fall out of my grip through the now open window. He tumbled down in a shower of ss and let out a scream... and the sound ended with a distant wet thud. I stepped onto the edge, looking down at him in the darkness as the wind rushed past my face.


    "How about goodbye?"

 Chapter 72: Girls, Guns, and Thermite

    Chapter 72: Girls, Guns, and Thermite


    <em>You just heard "Luck Be A Lady" by Sinatra, and before that was E Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong with "Can''t We Be Friends?" You''re listening to Radio New Vegas, and you all look exceptionally beautiful tonight. We''ve got more ssicsing up over the airwaves after these messages, so stay tuned.</em>


    True to his word, Cachino was in the strip club where I''d first found him. He was sitting off by himself, near one of the far walls - about halfway between the stage and the bar. As soon as he noticed me, he waved and called me over to his table.


    "There you are," Cachino said, wiping the sweat off his forehead and pouring some scotch into a pair of sses. "I was wonderin'' when you were gonna get back. Listen man, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. Drink?" He slid one of the sses across the table to me. He downed half of his own drink in one go.


    "Maybeter," I said, sliding it back to him. "We need to talk." I cleared my throat; no sense beating around the bush... "Your bosses are working with Caesar." Cachino was halfway through the rest of his drink when he started spluttering and choking on it.


    "Wh-what? That''s not..." I could practically hear the gears turning inside his head. "How can you be sure?"


    "Oh, trust me on this. I''m sure. For one thing, only a member of Caesar''s Legion would call me a ''profligate.'' Besides... I found these in his safe," I reached into my duster, and set down the papers I''d stolen, along with the holotape. I tapped the holotape a few times. Cachino looked confused.


    "So what''s all this?" He picked up a few of the papers, ncing at them curiously.


    "What you have there are blueprints and a supplies list for everything needed to build a dozen chlorine gas bombs, along with the schematics for the HVAC systems of every casino on the Strip, plus the NCR Embassy. I think your Bosses'' n was to gas everyone on the Strip, and then use that outside muscle you mentioned and the guns Troike has been bringing in to mop up any survivors."


    "Jesus fuckin'' H Christ, man..." Cachino stared at the ns with wide eyes; more sweat started to bead up on his head. "This is... this can''t be right..."


    "It makes sense, trust me on this. If the Strip is wiped clean of anyone who could oppose him, Caesar could just waltz in and take possession. And a chlorine bomb is just low-tech enough that that bald, big-nosed bastard probably wouldn''t oppose its use... not like it would matter to Vulpes, anyhow..."


    "Well..." Cachino set down the papers and poured himself another drink. "I''m guessin'' since you have this, nden''s been taken care of?" I nodded.


    "They''re going to need to scrape him up off wherever hended with a spat. And if I''m right, then he was the only one with the technical know-how to build those bombs. So, that''s one problem dealt with." I grabbed the holotape and pushed it toward him. "Plus, there''s this."


    "Troike?" Cachino asked, pointing at thebel. "What is this? What does this have to do with nden?"


    "Just listen," I said, plugging the holotape into my Pip Boy, and scrolling through a few functions until I found the yback feature. A recording of several voices started ying.


    <em>"Is it finished?"</em> The first voice - a gruff sounding man with an ent like a mafia wiseguy in an old world holotape - spoke up. <em>"You said this''d be no problem."</em>


    <em>"It''s done,"</em> nden''s soft voice spoke up. <em>"Your weapons man has been knocked out, and the girl is ended with the knife he carries. I''ve staged it so that when he wakes, he will think he murdered her in a drug haze. He will make an easy target for your ckmail scheme."</em>


    <em>"Good... Good, you''ve done good work here,"</em> A third voice, another wiseguy, sounded pleased.


    <em>"I do not do this for your gratitude."</em> nden''s voice never seemed to rise above a whisper, and yet his words were in as day.<em> "I do it to ensure yourpliance with my Masters wishes. Will you be ready to receive us, when the timees?"</em>


    <em>"Yeah, yeah..."</em> the first voice said.<em> "Just be sure he holds up his end of the bargain, eh? We''re taking a huge risk, turning the Strip over to him..."</em>


    <em>"Don''t worry..." </em>nden spoke up again. <em>"My Master shall reward you as you deserve."</em> And with that, the holotape''s recording clicked off. The two of us sat in silence at the table for a few minutes. Cachino couldn''t stop staring at the holotape.


    "Well?" I asked, unplugging it from my Pip Boy.


    "That... that was Big Sal''s voice. Big Sal and Nero, definitely. There''s no one else it could be..." Cachino started shaking his head. "I don''t believe it... why would the Bosses..." He grabbed his ss of scotch and downed it, looking back up at me. "What''s our next move?"


    "I go find Troike."


    The Zoara Club was down near the bottom-most levels of Gomorrah. The outside of the ce was dimly lit, with red lights in the ceiling cutting through a haze of smoke spilling out of the cracks of the closed double-doors. On either side of the doors were sconces spitting blue mes. When I opened the door using the key Cachino had given me, I was met with a sea of cushions and seats covering the floor, blood-red curtains hanging from the ceiling like fabric walls. Every so often I''d see a small ss-topped table sticking out of the cushions; each table had a hookah pipe sitting on top.


    And let me tell you right now: with how lightheaded I felt the moment I opened the door, I knew for a fact that they weren''t just smoking tobo in those pipes.


    The deeper I walked into the club, the more I realized how much I must have stood out to the people here (if they even noticed me at all). Most of the people here were either passed out or too busy doing things like cocaine or jet. The only thing they had inmon was that they were all <em>at least</em> half naked. I felt severely overdressed in my armor, trenchcoat, and the cowboy hat, but hey - what''re you gonna do, right?


    Eventually, after wading through the lounging half-naked hookers and jet-heads, I found Troike. Cachino''s description made it really easy to find him, even in a ce like this. He was a ck man, about my height, with a full mustache and a head full of messy ck hair - except for the two white stripes running along the top of his head that made him look a little like a skunk. At the moment, he was lying passed out on a mountain of cushions between two naked women; his face was buried in the cleavage of one of them, and he was snoring loudly. One of his hands was still limply clutching one of the hookah hoses.


    Time to wake him up.


    "Up an'' at ''em!" I said loudly,nding a good swift kick into the pile of cushions. All three of the sleeping bodies seemed to shudder, and they each spluttered awake, clearly dazed and confused at the sudden and unexpected turn of events. "Time to get up, c''mon, wakey-wakey!"


    "Hey, wh-what - what the?" Troike shook his head and started looking around, wide-eyed and unfocused. The women seemed to be waking up much faster, so I reached down, grabbed a discarded bra and tossed it at one of them. I didn''t really think it mattered who it belonged to.


    "Sorry,dies, but I''m gonna have to ask you two to get out of here. Troike and I have to talk some business." One of them yawned with a stretch, and the other leaned back, looking me up and down with a sly smirk. Neither of them moved away.


    "Aw, c''mon honey," The one smirking at me leaned forward, cing a hand on my leg, trying to work its way up... "Why don''t you join us? I wouldn''t mind taking a bite out of you..." I grabbed her hand, and shoved it away; she seemed to dete and copsed backward onto the cushions. Right, being nice isn''t working.


    "Maybe I didn''t make myself clear," I grabbed more of the discarded clothing and shoved it at both of them. "Bitches, leave. <strong>Now</strong>." This time, they actually did move... and that gave me plenty of time to get eye-to-eye with Troike, who still looked a little out of it.


    "What the fuck, man?" He sat up with a grunt, rubbing his face. "Who are you? I didn''t do nothin'', leave me alone..."


    "I''ll tell you who I am, Troike. I''m your new best friend for the next fifteen minutes," I said with a smile. He looked up at me curiously, trying to get his messy mass of scraggly hair to behave. "Cachino sent me. I''m here to ask you about some guns." At that, he seemed to sober up real quick.


    "Cachino... Cachino <em>what</em>? Are you fucking kidding me? He must be trying to get me killed!" He blurted out, obviously terrified. Cachino was right - he is a skittish little fucker.


    "Far from it. See, he''s working with me, and the two of us are looking to break up what the Omerta bosses are nning." Troike''s expression didn''t <em>quite</em> get away from fear, but he did look at me like I waspletely nuts.


    "Yeah? Well, <strong>fuck that</strong>. The bosses have my number, and I''m apany man while they''ve got the goods on me."


    "I thought you might say that," I said, reaching into my coat; Troike tried to push himself away from me, but was blocked by the cushions. "You''re worried because of that hooker that got killed, right? Well, here. No need to be worried anymore."


    "Wh- how did you know about..." He trailed off, looking down at my hands - and the holotape I was handing him. "Hang on, what''s that?"


    "Proof that you didn''t do it. It was that nden guy, working under orders from the Omerta bosses. They''ve been ckmailing you for something you didn''t do." I plugged the holotape into my Pip Boy and yed back the recording for him; he sat there, transfixed, understanding andprehension finally washing over his features.


    "Son of a bitch... Goddamn fuckin'' son of a bitch!" Troike ran his fingers through his tangled, messy hair. "I should''ve known something was up when I cked out, I never ck out!" I snapped my fingers in front of his face a few times to try and get his attention.


    "Hey, c''mon, focus. I need your help, and now you know the Bosses don''t have anything to hold over your head. Can we deal?" He started nodding.


    "Right... yeah, okay... fuck, man... Yeah, I''ll help you, but I''m getting the hell out of here the first chance I get."


    "Works for me," I said, grabbing the hookah, setting it on the floor, and sitting on the table. "Now. What can you tell me about the guns?"


    "They''re keeping them in a little utility section, down off the basement. I don''t know what they''re arming themselves for, but I know it isn''t for the good of mankind..."


    "Well, I <strong>do</strong> know what they want to use them for," I said, hoping my tone of voice made it clear he didn''t need to know. "How can we get rid of them?" Troike coughed, and scratched at his neck.


    "I got a bit of a... pet project? I''ve been doing it on the side... making batches of Thermite. I''ve been keeping it in my room, so if the Family betrayed me, I could hopefully do some damage before I end up dead or in jail. This definitely counts. It should be able to get rid of the guns."


    "Alright, let''s go get it then," I said, getting up off the table. Troike looked around, nervously.


    "Uh... I think you may have given my pants to one of the girls."


    There was a very awkward pause between us for a minute.


    "Fuck."


    "So, what is Thermite, anyway?" I asked as the two of us headed to Troike''s room. Luckily, we''d found his pants. Or... at least, I <em>hope</em> they were his pants.


    "Thermite is great shit, man," Troike said opening the door to his hotel room. "It''s pretty simple to make, actually. It''s made out of red iron oxide - rust, basically - and aluminum, both turned into powder, and mixed together with a binding agent to keep it from breaking apart. It burns hotter than the devil''s asshole, but getting it going is a bitch; the ignition point is over 4000 Fahrenheit, and it burns much, <em>much</em> hotter than that. A regr ck powder match or a butane torch isn''t going to burn hot enough to get the reaction going..." As he spoke, I stood at the door, half keeping watch and half amazed at the technical details this junkie was telling me.


    "How the fuck do you know all that?" I asked. He started looking around his room, grabbing coffee cans from various hiding ces and setting them in a duffel bag he''d put on his bed. The tops of the cans had been sealed with duct tape, and silvery-metal ribbons were sticking out of the top.


    "I used to be a chemical engineer, back in Vault City. Well... until... I was kind of... fired when they found out about my buffout habit... and then I was arrested for some... Yeah. Thing is, that''s kind of why I was so scared of the Bosses'' ratting on me."


    "What do you mean?" I asked. Troike shrugged, and continued moving coffee cans around the room.


    "I''ve got two strikes against me already. I moved down to Vegas to get away from California, but if the NCR had proof that I''d <em>murdered</em> somebody? Fuck me, that''s it. I know they''d give me the chair. Or life without parole, at the very least."


    "But Vegas isn''t under NCR control." Yet. "Isn''t a murder here kind of out of their jurisdiction?" He ced thest few coffee cans in the duffel bag, and stared up at me curiously.


    "Man, do you honestly think that''d stop them, especially with all the soldiers at the NCR Embassy? I wasn''t taking any fuckin'' chances." He zipped up the duffel bag, and handed it to me with one hand, and handed me a key in the other. "Here - the Thermite and a key to the room where the guns are stored. What you''re gonna need to do is ce the coffee cans on the crates with the magnesium fuse sticking up. Magnesium burns hot enough to start the Thermite reaction, and can be lit with a match, just so long as you hold the me to the ribbon for at least five seconds. There should be enough to use two coffee cans per weapons crate. This shit should turn the guns into molten g."


    "Thanks," I said, slinging the duffel bag over my shoulder. I was going to say it was surprisingly heavy, but on reflection... that wasn''t surprising at all. "So what are you gonna do now?" Troike justughed nervously.


    "What do you think? I''m gonna make like a ghost and just fuckin'' <em>disappear</em>. I don''t want to be anywhere <em>near</em> here when this goes down... but, just one question, before I go."


    "Seems fair," I said with a shrug. "I''ve asked you plenty. What''s up?"


    "Who are you? Why are you helping me out like this?" I just smiled.


    "Me? I''m surprised you haven''t figured it out." No I wasn''t. "I''m The Courier... and solving problems is what I do." His eyes went wide, and he seemed rooted in ce. I kept smiling, and patted his cheek to try and snap him out of it. "You go and get yourself disappeared already. I can handle this."


    The utility closet was easy enough to find... but only thanks to Troike''s directions. Down near the bottom of the casino, past the Gambino Steakhouse, past the Brimstone Bar and Buffet, and past the Zoara Club. It was <em>definitely</em> off the beaten track. There were a few Omerta guards nearby, but they were spread out enough that I was able to slip past them easily enough with my stealth boy - even with the duffel bag stuffed full of Thermite under my arm. I had to be careful though; I''m sure the battery for this damn thing was on itsst legs.


    The door slid into the ground after I unlocked it... and instead of a utility closet like I was expecting, it led into a hallway that turned right, then left, and then down a set of stairs. The design reminded me a bit of the utility tunnels in the Boneyard''s subway system: concrete walls, metal floors, and a snaking mess of cables, conduits, and pipes criss-crossing above my head. The stairs eventually dumped me in front of another door - and beyond it was the utility closet I was expecting.


    There must have been dozens of crates, all piled on top of one another. They didn''t look like weapons crates, though... All of the boxes hadbels on the outside indicating things like "food" or "medical supplies." One of therger ones was evenbeled "farm machinery." But after looking in a few and finding things like assault rifles, squad automatic weapons, grenadeunchers - even a Browning .50 cal - I figured that this must have been how Troike was smuggling weapons into the Strip.


    "Oh, <em><strong>DAMN</strong></em>..." I said to myself, reaching into one of the boxes and pulling out one of the guns. "What is this, a G36?" I whistled, looking around the room down the sight and with the stock pressed into my shoulder, just to get a feel for it. "It is, <em>damn</em>. And it''s the carbine model too, with a red-dot sight and vertical foregrip... I haven''t seen one of these in <em>years</em>! And... oh HANG ON. What is that, is that..." I set down the assault carbine and pulled out the shotgun that had caught my eye. "Is this a Jackhammer?! A Pancor Jackhammer, seriously? Holy fuck! I didn''t think these things ever made it past prototyping before the bombs dropped..."


    I set the two weapons on top of the crate, staring at them for a solid minute.


    "You know..." I said aloud, still staring at the guns. "It almost... almost seems a shame. Damn shame to get rid of guns like this. I mean... these are... pretty rare. Don''t see many guns like this... everyday... or ever..."


    Right. Enough gawking at the hardware.


    As I set up each of the coffee cans, I couldn''t help but wonder... was this even going to work? I mean, if I had some C4 with me, I could <em>definitely</em> make sure the guns got destroyed. Only problem with C4 (aside from the problems of trying to slip it past the guard at the door, obviously) would be how much I''d need to make sure all the guns were obliterated. I would need A LOT, and an explosion that size would be bound to attract some attention. Or possibly destroy a good chunk of the casino, I don''t know. Either way: probably a bad idea.


    That said, I''d never used Thermite, so I had no idea what was going to happen when I lit them up... ah well. Time to nut up or shut up, I guess.


    I lit the first fuse, and the metal ribbon started glowing white hot, spewing sparks and smoke like mad. Quick as I could, I lit the other fuses and ran out of the room. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the low sparking rumble of the fuses seemed to change, and it sounded like someone had turned on a fire hose to full st. The whole room behind me lit up like it was daytime.


    I turned to get a look at the results, and half of the first box was already starting to melt away. The other coffee cans were starting to ignite; each one erupted in a geyser of fire raining down a shower of sparks, and the crates below the cans would start to glow red from the inside. In a matter of seconds, all the crates were nothing more than deformed piles of twisted, smoldering, red-hot metal.


    "Well, damn," I said, stepping back from the molten carnage. "That ought to slow them down a bit..."


    Of <em>course</em>, that''s when things started to go wrong. I was starting to feel the tiniest bit smug.


    "It came from in here!" A voice from above reverberated off the halls as I made my way back upstairs. "Go get the Bosses, I''ll check it out!"


    My first instinct was to go for the stealth boy, but the hallway was way too narrow for that to work. Even the most blind mook would figure out something was wrong when he saw a shimmering distorted section of wall trying to move past him.


    The sound of footsteps on metal started getting closer. I welded my back to the corner, and readied myself. There was nothing for it, I was going to have to fight my way out of this. I had to be careful, though... I''d already turned one casino into a graveyard, like Cachino had said earlier. I really didn''t want to make it a second.


    As soon as the Omerta thug was close enough, I wheeled around the corner and nted my fist square in the middle of his face. There was a crack, and he recoiled backward, clutching at his face and swearing. Before he got a chance to fight back, I leapt up, grabbed hold of the pipes bolted to the ceiling, andnded both feet into his chest as hard as I could. He stumbled backward, smashed his head against the back wall, and copsed on the ground in a groaning heap.


    I pulled Roscoe out of the back of my pants and stepped over the toppled mook. Hopefully, I wouldn''t have to shoot anybody, but if it came right down to it... better prepared than dead. I peeked out of the open door and into the hallway: it looked clear enough...


    Right, here''s the n Sheason: get to a ce that''s wider than 3 feet across, activate the stealth boy to lose any potential tails, and get back to Cachino up in the Club Vito. I barely got three feet away from the door.


    "Hey!" A voice behind me shouted. "Who are you? Stop!"


    I had an idea, but I had absolutely no guarantee that it would work. Fuck it, roll the dice!


    I ran away from the voice as fast as I could, but looked over my shoulder and aimed Roscoe; there was a pair of Omerta thugs with guns drawn at the other end of the hall behind me. Instead of aiming at them, however, I fired off a trio of shots up at the ceiling - straight at the light fixture directly above them.


    The light in the ceiling exploded in a shower of ss, sparks, and burning phosphor. My ears rang from the 9mm discharging so close to my ear, but the exploding light seemed to distract them long enough for me to get to the other end of the hall and around the corner.


    "Go! Get after him!" I heard one of them yell. I didn''t slow down. I just switched on the stealth boy, and kept running. By the time the two mooks rounded the corner after me, I was long gone.


    When the charge on the stealth boy finally ran out, I was just outside the Club Vito. Despite the time nearing midnight, the crowds were just as a boisterous and still as loud as they were earlier. It wasn''t really all that surprising. If there''s one thing that never sleeps, it''s vice.


    Alright, I''ve just got to find Cachino, and the-


    A hand grabbed me by my shoulder; my reaction was immediate and purely instinct. In a single motion, I grabbed the thumb of the person that grabbed me, wrenched it back and around so he was forced to face me, and brought my free hand up in a fist, ready to strike.


    "Whoa! Whoa! Hey, calm the fuck down, man!" Cachino managed to gasp out, grimacing under the thumb hold. "It''s me! It''s me!" I let go of him immediately.


    "Sorry. Just..." I looked around; we were off in a secluded corner just outside the club. With any luck, nobody would take notice of us. Hopefully. "Yeah, I just had a bit of a close shave earlier."


    "Yeah," Cachino adjusted his jacket. "I heard. You don''t know how to walk soft, do you?" I shrugged.


    "No, not really. I know how to get the job done." Cachino chuckled grimly at that and started to slowly shake his head.


    "You''re fuckin'' lucky I found you first. The bosses and the muscle are going nuts looking for you. They''re furious that ''The Infamous Courier'' is here, mucking up all their ns. They tasked me with finding you."


    "Now, that <em>is</em> interesting..." I crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned forward slightly. "How on earth would they even know it was me, and not somebody else wanting to settle a grudge? I''m sure they''ve made lots of enemies over the years, and yet, somehow, they''re sure it''s <strong>me</strong>?" Cachino looked at me curiously, hopefully picking up on the subtext.


    "What, are you kidding? Things <em>explode</em> around you, Courier! After they heard on the radio about youing back to Vegas with a shiny new set of wheels, they were able to put two and two together - especially when nden''s body was found on the casino''s roof wrapped around an AC unit. And then all the guns they''d had stashed all wind up melted? Some guy fights off three of the guards downstairs, disappears without taking a scratch? You''re not as subtle as you might think."


    "Hmm..." I thought about that. There was some sense in what he was saying, sure... but my paranoia was kicking in something awful. Maybe it was just the narrow escape earlier, but I was getting very suspicious all of a sudden... Probably best to y it safe, at least for now. Don''t let Cachino know everything.


    "So," I cleared my throat. "What''s the next move?"


    "We go after the Bosses, cut off the head of the serpent and stop this once and for all. I can bring you to them like I caught you, and slip you a gun right before so we can take them out. We won''t get a better chance to get both of them together in the same room." I tried to keep from smirking; if he was nning to slip me a gun, that meant he didn''t know I was already armed. Probably best to keep that quiet for the moment. Just in case.


    "Alright, sounds good... and after?" I asked. Cachino did a double take.


    "What? What do you mean after?"


    "I mean, once Big Sal and Nero are dead, what are you going to do?" Assuming, of course, this wasn''t a trap, I decided against saying out loud.


    "With the two of them gone, I''m gonna run this joint. I may have to crack some skulls first, though..." He looked strangely, away from me for a moment, and then looked back up. "I''m next in line, but not by much. Lot of people are gonna be unhappy about the shift in power, y''know?"


    "Heh," I smirked. "Yeah, I can believe that..."


    "This day has been fuckin'' weird... Is it always like this when youe around?" Cachino asked. I couldn''t help but startughing.


    "Sort of... You get used to it. Shall we go and end this farce?" I cracked my knuckles, and ced my hands behind my back. With any luck, anyone looking at us as he took me to the bosses would think my hands were tied.


    "Thought you''d never ask."

 Chapter 73: Alpha and Omerta

    Chapter 73: Alpha and Omerta


    <em>The women of New Vegas ask me a lot if there''s a Mrs. New Vegas. Well, of course there is. You''re her. And you''re still just as perfect as the day we met. Got some more ssic tunes lined up, but first, some news. NCR officials at Camp McCarran were relieved when technical difficulties with its monorail line to the New Vegas Strip proved easy to fix. One anonymous official told us a serious mechanical failure would have been a disaster because of the age of the train and the scarcity of the recement parts. These headlines were brought to you by Vault 21. Everything is better... when you experience it in a Vault. Ladies and gentlemen, this next song goes out from me to you.</em>


    "Is this it?" I asked. Cachino nodded. We were up on a balcony, overlooking the main casino floor of Gomorrah, and to my right was a wall with a single door. There wasn''t anyone else up here - even the dancing girls in cages were lower than the balcony. The only guards I''d seen were the ones standing guard just outside the stairs leading up here, and they''d let us pass when they saw me being escorted by Cachino.


    "Yeah. Here." Cachino reached into his jacket, and pulled out a sawed-off double barrel shotgun, handing it to me grip first. I shook my head and waved it off, reaching behind me and pulling out Roscoe. Cachnio''s eyes went wide, pointing at a spot inside my duster. "Is that what I think it is?"


    "Yes it is," I said calmly, checking my pistol.


    "How''d you even get it in here? Actually, no, I don''t wanna know. But why don''t you use <strong>that </strong>instead?" He seemed confused.


    "No ammo for it," I said with a shrug. Cachino shook his head, but rallied rather quickly. I pulled back the slide, pointing Roscoe at the door. "Now - you ready to do this?"


    "Hang on," Cachino grabbed me by the shoulder. "We can''t just go in there, guns zing."


    "And why not?" Part of me wanted to point Roscoe at his face as I said that. If this was a trap... Eventually, I decided against it, and just kept talking. "This is going to end tonight, one way or another. Might as well end it quick."


    "Look, you do what you seem to be best at, kickin'' in the door and shooting up the ce, and every Omerta in the building is gonnae down on us like a pack of Cazadores. Neither one of us would being out alive from that." I might, I thought to myself. "But the Bosses'' office is <em>soundproofed</em>. If you wait until the door is shut before we kill them, I can get you out of the casino and start consolidating my position as the new boss before anyone knows what happened."


    "Alright, fine." I hid Roscoe in the sleeves of my duster, and put my hands behind my back again. "Lets do this." Cachino nodded, and pounded against the door several times. I heard a click, and then a voice came from a speaker next to the door.


    "Who is it?" A gruff voice said through the voicebox. It was the same voice I''d heard on nden''s ckmail tape earlier.


    "Got a present for ya, boss," Cachino said into the speaker. "All tied up, and wrapped in a bow for the two''ve you." There was a series of clicks, and the door swung inward. As soon as I walked forward, gripping Roscoe hidden in my dusters sleeve, I saw the barrel of a sawn-off lever action shotgun pointing at my chest.


    "Let''s have some words," the man holding the shotgun said to me. He was a rather portly man in a dark grey suit, matching hat, and sunsses perched atop a huge nose; I almost didn''t move, because I was just so transfixed by that massive, bulbous nose filled with so many pits it looked like a golf ball. He cocked the lever on the shotgun and motioned to the couch in the corner. "Take a seat so we can get talkin''."


    Carefully, I stepped past him and tried to assess the situation. There was another man in the room, wearing a much lighter grey suit with dark blue pinstripes. He had a thin face with a crooked nose, greasy ck hair slicked down against his head, and an M16 in his hands pointed right at me. Behind him, I saw a pair of desks, and a giant te-ss window, looking out over the Club Vito. I knew it was the Club Vito, because I could see the two-story tall stripper pole.


    "So, this is the Infamous Courier, huh?" The man with the M16 said. "I thought he''d be taller."


    "Yeah, I''ve been getting that a lot," I said.


    "Shut up!" The greasy haired man said, making a motion with his rifle; it was almost like he was trying to point his gun at me <em>more. </em>"Cachino, shut the door." Cachino nodded.


    "Sure thing, Nero." I sat down on the couch, hands still behind my back (but gripping Roscoe tightly) when the door shut with a click. The man toting the shotgun - Big Sal, I''m guessing - loomed over me, and pointed the barrel at my chest. Maybe he didn''t realize I was wearing armor that had stood up to a sma bolt with no ill effects. Or maybe he just didn''t care.


    "So, I assume you know why we called you here?" Big Sal growled. I just smiled, flipping the safety off.


    "I heard you lost some guns," I never stopped looking at the two of them, but in my peripheral vision, I saw Cachnio off to the side. He was slowly making his way away from the door, like he was getting in position to get around them.


    "Yeah, we lost some guns, you little weasel!" Big Sal snarled. "But it don''t matter - we can always get more guns. You may''ve slowed us down, but you can''t stop us. And you certainly can''t stop <strong>Caesar</strong>. You''re gonna die a failure, you know that? Anyst requests?"


    A n formed in my head almost instantly. It was risky, but... hell, if it worked, I could finish this without firing a shot. And if it didn''t, well... I could still just shoot them, and I had VATS on my side. Might as well just fuck it, and roll the dice...


    "Just one..." I looked over to Nero, who raised an eyebrow, then back to Big Sal. "Would you mind telling me what your n was?" Both Nero and Big Sal looked taken aback.


    "Are you shitting me?" Big Sal startedughing. "You didn''t even know what the n was? Hah! I guess all those rumors about The Courier were just bullshit, then?" I shrugged, still smiling.


    "Well, you know how it goes. Nero didn''t really give me the details when he hired me to take you down."


    A heavy silence hung in the room. Very slowly, Big Sal lowered his shotgun... and spun around, pointing it at Nero.


    "I always knew this day woulde," Big Sal said, barely above a whisper.


    "Hey, what the fuck, man!" Nero hurriedly pointed his rifle at Big Sal, who just shook his head.


    "Nero, you backstabbing, two-timing motherfucker!" Big Sal''s gun arm was shaking as he spoke, and Nero looked about ready to shit his pants.


    "What - what are you doing?! You''re gonna believe this asshole?"


    "But it makes sense, though, <strong>doesn''t it</strong>?" Big Sal growled. "I knew there had to be someone higher up helping him... and <strong>you</strong>. You''ve always been jealous. Always wanted the Omertas all to yourself, didn''t you? It was NEVER ENOUGH! <strong>WAS IT</strong>?!"


    "You thick fuck!" Nero shouted. "He''s ying you, man!"


    I''m not really sure who fired first. After a few seconds of violent gunfire, I suppose it didn''t really matter. I didn''t even need to do anything expect watch. When the smoke cleared and the shooting stopped, I got up from the couch, put the safety back on Roscoe, and slid the gun back on my thigh holster.


    "Well. That went better than I expected." I walked over to the two ex-Omerta bosses, just to make sure they were dead. Nero was lying in a pool of his own blood, slumped against one of the desks; half his face had been pulped by the buckshot. Big Sal was in a simr sorry state, riddled with about half a dozen bloody holes - including the spot where his right eye used to be.


    "You can get up now, Cachino," I said to the man seemingly paralyzed against the back wall. He was staring at the carnage, one of his eyes twitching. Honestly, I couldn''t me him; he''d been close enough that I could see a few flecks of Big Sal''s blood sttered against his face. I helped him up, and he seemed to recover slightly.


    "You... fuck me, man. You just... you talked them to death!" I shrugged, trying to wipe some of the blood off his jacket.


    "Well, what can I say... I''m the Courier. Pulling off the impossible is what I do." I looked at the two bodies one more time, and sighed. Part of my brain wanted to say that this was too easy... or was I just <em>actually</em> getting used to this crap? "Y''alright?"


    "Uh... yeah... Yeah, I''m fine. Either way... thanks, man. I''m gonna run a tight ship here, now that Big Sal and Nero are out of the picture." Cachino held out a hand, offering it for me to shake. I didn''t take it. Not yet.


    "Does this talk of ''running a tight ship'' mean the Omertas are gonna go legit?" I asked. Cachino opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. Just a half-hearted, uncertain squawk from the back of his throat.


    "Nnnn... I wouldn''t say ''legit,'' honestly. The drugs, the hookers, the gambling... that''s way too profitable to just up and quit. It''s part of what we are. Part of what we do. That ain''t going away. But I know where my loyalties are. The Omertas are loyal to each other and loyal to <em>Vegas</em>, not just the highest bidder. Big Sal and Nero forgot that, but I won''t. And if Caesares knocking again, he won''t forget it, either." I started nodding slowly.


    "Good... you had me worried there, for a minute. I''m d to hear it, and I''m sure House will be, too." Realization dawned on Cachino''s face, and his eyes went wide... again.


    "Wait, hang on... you''re tellin'' me... you''ve been working for Not-At-Home this whole time?" I''m pretty sure I saw one of his eyes twitch. "Huh... damn. Yeah... lot of things make sense, now I know you''re working for Not-At-Home."


    "You know, it''s funny," I opened the door, and stepped out onto the balcony. Cachnio followed me. "Benny had a different name for House, too. Kept calling him the Overboss." Did he ever really call him that, or was that just the Benny in my dreams? I can''t really remember...


    "You are just full of surprises, ain''t ya Courier?" I shrugged, and smiled at him.


    "I''m just surprised you didn''t figure out I was working for House earlier."


    No, I wasn''t.


    I tossed the metal tag onto the counter.


    "That''s im ticket #42, if I remember correctly. I''m here to pick up my guns." I said, leaning against the counter. Just a few more feet, and I''d be out of Gomorrah...


    "It''ll be just a minute. Did you enjoy your-" The voice paused. "YOU!"


    "Uh..." That''s not good. I spun my head around to get a look at him, and saw an Omerta behind the counter with a massive bandage on his face, covering his nose.


    "You''re that asshole from the basement!" He shouted, reaching into his jacket. "You melted the bosses'' guns, and broke my fuckin'' nose!" He pulled out a .357 Magnum and - rather unlike Big Sal and Nero who pointed their big guns at my chest - pointed it square at my clearly unarmored face.


    "Hey now," I said, my hand instinctively settling near Roscoe without making it too obvious. "I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot earlier..." What were my options? Easiest and fastest exit was the doors. I''d have to sacrifice the guns I''d brought in, but I could always get more... the real problem was how far away they were - and he''d probably shoot me in the back of the head before I got more than a foot away from where I was standing. I could always try and shoot him first, but there was the small issue that he was already aiming at my head from point nk range. Even VATS would probably have trouble with that. Not to mention the noise would undoubtedly bring every Omerta in the building down on my head even if I <em>did</em> somehow manage to shoot him without getting killed myself.


    "Easy there, Malone," Cachino''s voice cut through my thoughts, and his hand came out of nowhere to lower the Omerta thug''s gun. The mook with a broken nose looked confused and utterly bewildered. "He''s with me. Had to clean up a bit of a... <em>mess</em> earlier, but it''s all straightened out now."


    "But he-" Cachino cut him off.


    "Trust me, Malone. I''m sorry about your nose, but the less people knew about it beforehand, the better for everyone involved. Now, go and get his guns. I''ll pay you for the rest of yer shift, and I''ll buy you a drink and ap dance to make it up to you, what do you say?" Malone seemedpletely dumbfounded. Eventually, he just started nodding slowly, and disappeared into a nearby door.


    "Thanks for that," I said, nodding. Cachino shrugged, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.


    "Hey, I said I''d get you out''ve the building. Least I could do after everything else you''ve done tonight," He lit the cigarette, and snapped the Zippo shut. "Malone''s a good kid. None too bright, but..."


    "I don''t know about that," I said. "He''s the only one tonight with sense enough to aim for my <em>face</em>." Cachnio started chuckling, exhaling smoke out his nose.


    "Well, I''m d you didn''t have to kill him then."


    Ding.


    "Wee back, sugar," Jane''s metallic voice rang out almost as soon as the elevator doors opened. "Mr. House is waiting for you."


    "Of course he is," I said, passing the Securitron hulking over me with the cartoonishly feminine face. "Where else is he gonna go?" Jane startedughing; it was an unnerving girlish giggle, passed through entirely too many synthetic filters.


    "That''s why I like you, sugar! You''ve got a great sense of humor!" Jane rolled away, and I couldn''t help but shake my head.


    "You obviously don''t know me all that well..." I muttered under my breath as I made my way down the stairs, and approached the massive screen. As soon as I set one foot off the stairs, the massive screen was filled with House''s equally massive face.


    "Wee back, Mr. Fisher. I''ll be honest, I did not expect your return so expeditiously." House voice boomed and echoed off the walls. I don''t know why - maybe it was because it was sote and I was so tired? - but he seemed altogether more loud and imposing than normal.


    "Hey, you hired me to get a job done, so I got it done. There were actually <em>fewer</em> people shooting at me than normal this time." I sighed and smiled weakly to myself, shaking my head; this wasn''t normal, was it? Was this normal? No, it couldn''t be. This wasn''t normal.


    "So, you actually have something to report on the Omertas?" House asked, the giant green face flickering slightly as he spoke. I nodded, tipping my hat back so I wouldn''t have to crane my neck up so far to see House.


    "The Omerta bosses, Big Sal and Nero, were conspiring against you. They cut a deal with Casear, and were prepared to kill everyone on the Strip. Chlorine bombs, well armed mercenaries, the whole nine yards." House''s face flickered again.


    "I take it they have been dealt with?" I sighed.


    "Thought that was obvious," I muttered. I nodded, and looked back up at the screen. "Yeah, they''re dead, House. The Omertas shouldn''t cause any more trouble for a while."


    "Well done." House, for the first time since I met him, sounded genuinely pleased. "And you managed to pull it off without butchering another of my casinos." I cringed at that. I was getting reminded an awful lot recently of what I did to the Tops... "Your next assignment is -"


    "NO," I said, holding up a hand to House, who stopped mid-sentence. "Stop. Just... no, House."


    "<em>Excuse me</em>?" House boomed. "Unless you have forgotten the particrs of our arrangement, you do not give the orders around here. <strong>I</strong> do."


    "No, I haven''t forgotten, House. But it''s almost two in the morning. I''ve been up and on my feet for almost 20 hours straight. Last time I did that was in the Sierra Madre, and I didn''t want to do that again so soon. I know you''re anxious to get all your ns in motion after 200 years, but whatever you have in mind, I''m sure it can wait until after I''ve gotten some sleep. Hell, I can almost guarantee if you tell me now, I''m not going to remember after I wake up. I''ll be right back up here anyway, asking you what I need to do again. So - and please, tell me honestly - can it wait a few fucking hours?"


    The only noise in the room after I finished speaking was a low frequency electronic hum that seemed to saturate every piece of furniture and equipment in the room. It was the only noise avable to focus on, and it just seemed to get louder, and louder, and louder. And then...


    "Alright," House said, his voice uncharacteristically resigned. "I suppose myck of a need to sleep has... desensitized me to the needs of those that do. And, if what you say about the Omerta''s deal with Ceasar is true, then this will have slowed down his ns somewhat. I suppose you have earned a few hours rest. But I expect to see you in front of me so we can discuss your next assignment no more than an hour after you''re woken. Be sure to set your rm, Mr. Fisher."


    And with that, House''s face winked out of view, and the screen filled with the words "CONNECTION TERMINATED AT SOURCE."


    Ding.


    "Ugh..." As soon as the doors opened onto the suite, I just sort of... slumped. Can''t really think of any other word to describe it. I didn''t quite copse, but I certainly wasn''t on form, that''s for sure.


    "Why do I keep doing this to myself? I really don''t know..." I said aloud; there didn''t seem to be anyone around to hear me, but, if I''m honest? I didn''t really care.


    Okay, what do I want to do first? Do I want to get rid of the mountain of weapons and armor weighing me down, or should I go to the kitchen, grab a beer, and <em>then</em> disarm? Decisions, decisions... Right, beer first.


    A wave of relief washed over me as I pulled a bottle out of the fridge, and poured the cool, refreshing amber liquid down my gullet. Whisky''s good when I''m looking to feel that wonderful burn, but beer is better when I just want to rx. It may not have looked it from afar, the way I was chugging that beer, but it was doing wonders to help loosen me up.


    "Have fun tonight?" I heard a voice from behind me. I finished off thest of the beer, and turned to see Cass leaning against the doorframe. She was still wearing her hat, but her leather jacket was nowhere to be seen.


    "Not really," I said, setting down the emptied beer bottle on the counter. "What are you still doing up?" Cass shrugged.


    "Dunno. Can''t really get t''sleep t''night, I guess." Cass started chuckling. "Y''should see Veronica, though. She''s out like a light,pletely dead to th'' world."


    "And here I thought it''d be the other way around..." I reached into the fridge for some more drink. "Want a beer?" Cass nodded, so I tossed her one of the bottles; she caught it midair, and the two of us made our way over to themon room.


    "So, what''d y''end up doin''?" Cass asked, flopping down in one of the easy chairs. Rather than just sit in it like a normal person, she was slouched practically sideways, with her left leg draped over one of the armrests. "Cuz I can already tell y''didn''t jus'' go fer a walk." She grinned at me before taking a swig of beer. I shrugged.


    "This and that. You know how it goes. Got you a present," Cass tipped her hat back, a confused expression on her face as I reached into my coat and pulled out the Pancor Jackhammer. "Figured you might want another assault shotgun to go in you ever increasing collection." She just stared at it as I leaned against her easy chair. I walked over to the pool table with the intent of disarming, pulling my duster off as I walked.


    "Yeah... seriously. What''ve you been doin''? No bullshit, now, I''m actually really curious."


    "Well, let''s see..." I set the G36 down on the pool table next to my discarded duster, and kept pulling guns, ammo, and knives out of everywhere. "I started the night by ckmailing one of the Omertas after breaking into his room, I fought with a Legion Frumentarius and ended up tossing him out of Gomorrah''s 13th floor, stole some guns from the Omerta bosses, melted the rest with what felt like 20 pounds of Thermite, and then I talked a pair of mob bosses to death by getting them to shoot each other." Thest thing I got rid of before pulling off my armor was the butterfly knife I''d stolen off nden; I tossed it onto the pile with the rest of the weapons, before copsing on the nearby couch. "So, yeah. That''s how my night''s gone. What''ve you been up to?"


    "Shit, man," Cass startedughing.. "I''m s''prised yer jus'' havin'' beer." I shrugged, taking another swig.


    "Too tired for anything else." I leaned back, sinking into the ancient sofa, and started staring up at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes. At least, it felt like a few minutes. I dunno, I wasn''t really keeping track of time. I just knew that dozens upon dozens of thoughts were buzzing around through my head, now that I had nothing to do. Things that had been gnawing at the back of my brain for thest few hours, and only now got a chance toe to the front of my mind...


    Eventually, I decided to break the silence with a question.


    "Hey, Cass?"


    "Hmm?" She said, taking another drink.


    "Do you think I''m a hypocrite?" I asked. It sounded like I''d made her choke on her beer.


    "Wh-what-" I looked up in time to see Cass try and wipe away the spilled beer from her chin. "Where th'' fuck did <strong>that</strong>e from, man?"


    "I dunno, I just..." I shook my head, and drank thest of my beer, trying to condense my thoughts into coherent sentences. "Just been thinking about stuff,tely. Like what went down at the Tops..."


    "Th'' Tops?" Cass sounded confused. "What about th'' Tops?"


    "Just... the way it went down. We went in there, guns zing, shot up the ce... killed a whole bunch of people, not just Benny. All of that, and for what? Just to kill one man who''d shot me?" I sighed, and tried to take another drink - only to remember that it was empty. I sighed. "I just... the more I think about it, and the more people remind me about how it all ended... I just wonder if maybe I could''ve done things differently..."


    "Maybe," Cass shrugged. "But you can''t change what''s past. No sense worryin'' about what y''can''t change."


    "I guess... Still feel guilty about it. The only one I really wanted to kill was Benny. How many of the Chairmen were just doing their jobs when we rolled in and turned it into a graveyard? If I''d just stopped to think... if I hadn''t been so dead-set on revenge, maybe I could''ve..." I trailed off, not really knowing what I was trying to say. "I want to try and do the right thing, but my hands aren''t exactly clean..."


    "That why you feel like a hypocrite?" Cass got up off the easy chair and made her way over to the couch, flopping down next to me. I rubbed my eyes, stalling for time; I was having a real hard time thinking... and forming coherent sentences.


    "That''s not the only reason," I sighed, leaning back in the sofa and looking at her. "I keep thinking about all the times I''ve talked to Veronica, Arcade... hell, <em>you</em>, and all the times I''ve said that secrets are gonnae out anyway, so don''t bother trying to hide them... but I''ve got plenty of secrets I''m keeping myself." Cass grimaced, and leaned back, like she was trying to sink into the couch. Her hat tipped up awkwardly when the back of her head hit the couch; she grabbed it by the brim, and tossed it aside.


    "Eehhh... yeah. That''s..." Cass took another swig of her beer - or, she tried, but it was pretty obvious when she upended the bottle that it was empty. "Fuck. Yeah, I can see how that''s buggin'' ya."


    "I keep making promises..." I said, staring at the ceiling. "... and I keep breaking them." Images shed in my head of all the people I''ve let down in the past. It ended with Melody, the ve girl at Caesar''s Fort. She was just... just a scared kid. I promised to help her, and I just... I couldn''t. I didn''t even know if she was alive or dead. "I keep wanting to do the right thing, but... I just... I keep fuckin'' things up. Breaking my promises. Telling people to do one thing, and then doing the exact opposite. Maybe this is just the best I can do..."


    Maybe this is the <em>real</em> reason I don''t want to be Sheason Fisher. Sheason''s a man, a fuck-up, who has to ept responsibility for his mistakes. Courier Six, on the other hand, is a story. A ghost, wandering the Mojave that people speak of in hushed whispers. Less a person... more a force of nature.


    "You know what I think?" Cass asked, draping her arm across the back of the sofa and turning to look at me.


    "No," I said simply, turning to look at her. "No, I never know what you''re thinking."


    "I think it''s reallyte, an'' yer loopy from bein'' so fuckin'' exhausted."


    "Don''t rightly know why," I said, musing. "Hasn''t been all that tough. Hardly anyone has shot at me today. Fewer than normal, at least." Again, my brain was kicking me in the metaphorical back of the skull: people shooting at you should <strong>not</strong> be normal, and yet somehow, it is. Damn it.


    "Shea," Cass grabbed the top of my head, forcing me to look her in the eyes. "Lissen t''me. Yer human. Y''make mistakes. That''s jus'' what people do. But you''ve been learnin'' from ''em, otherwise, y''wouldn''t be havin'' this dilemma righ'' now. If y''hadn''t, then y''would''ve jus'' stood by while bloodlust got th'' better''ve me when I found out th'' truth ''bout m''caravan."


    "We still... you know, kind of... blew up the Silver Rush." I said.


    "Yeah, but the Van Graffs hire mercs an'' hitmen. If y''hadn''t reigned me in, I''d have turned the Crimson Caravan camp int''a heap''ve bloody bodies, an'' th'' only one responsible there was McLafferty."


    "A heap of bloody bodies..." I repeated. "What, like the Tops?" Cass pped me without warning and pointed a finger in my face.


    "I''ll be havin'' no more''ve that talk now. Y''can''t change what is. Like I said, all y''gotta do is learn from yer fuck-ups, an'' move on." Cass leaned into me, draping her arm over my shoulder, and ruffled my hair. "Yeah, you''ve fucked up in th'' past. So''ve I. So''s every''ne. But yer a good guy. Got good karma goin'' fer ya. Cuz yer <em>tryin'', </em>an'' that''s really all any''ne can ever ask."


    I sighed, and decided not to argue the point any further. I leaned against her, grateful for the support... both the emotional kind, and the fact that I was <em>physically</em> leaning against her.


    "Thanks," I said. "You''re a good friend." Cass shrugged.


    "Hey, you''ve done th'' same fer me in th'' past. Figured I''m past due." I let out a single, tiredugh.


    "I wasn''t keeping score. You know that, right?" Cass shrugged. The two of us sat there in silence for a few minutes, leaning against each other on the couch, her arm draped over me... Everything about her just felt so... warm. I looked over to her, and suddenly realized how <em>close</em> her face was to mine. She looked at me through the mass of red hair falling down around her face. I could feel her breathing... getting closer...


    "You know..." I said softly; that seemed enough to stop her, at least for the moment. "We''re gonna have to tell her eventually." Cass was still and silent... and then I saw her start to slowly nod.


    "Yeah... yeah, I know." She sighed, resting her forehead against mine. "I''m jus''... not lookin'' forward to that conversation, that''s all..."


    "What, and you think I am?" I couldn''t help but let out a few grim chuckles. "Call it a hunch, but I think you''re gonna get off easier than I am."


    "Maybe... maybe." Cass looked up at me, and ran her fingers through my hair... and then, slowly, got up off the couch. "It''ste. We should... I think we should both get some sleep."


    "Yeah," I said, nodding... and trying not to stare as she walked away. "Yeah, that''s probably a good idea. G''night, Cass."


    "... Goodnight, Sheason," And with that, she walked out the door.

 Chapter 74: Crossroads

    Chapter 74: Crossroads


    <em>Good morning, Mojave Wastnd! It certainly looks to be a beautiful morning. It would have to be, just to match all of my beautiful listeners out there. Highs of 72 today, with partly cloudy skies. Best of all, no chance of sandstorms anywhere east of The Divide! This is your host, Mr. New Vegas, letting you know that you''re nobody until somebody loves you, and that somebody is me. I love you.</em>


    I''m not entirely certain when I woke up. I vaguely remember staring at the ceiling for what felt like five years, waiting for something to happen. There was no transition from falling asleep to waking up; no nightmares, no dreams, and no midnight visits from Benny''s ghost (if that''s what he really was...). I just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and... it just didn''t.


    What I do remember is the thing that finally roused me out of bed: that glorious smell. It was just a wonderful smell of some kind of cooking meat wafting into my room. I felt like a feral ghoul as I stumbled out of bed, drawn ever forward by that delicious smell of meat. It almost smelled like <em>bacon</em>, but... how was that possible?


    "Morning!" Veronica said as I stumbled, blinking and bleary eyed, into the kitchen. She grabbed me by the shoulder, helping to steady my approach. "Whoa, there! Rough night?" I grunted, rubbing my eyes; it was the best response I could muster. Sheughed, helping me into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "Well, don''t worry. We''ve got just the thing to help you out: lots and lots of pork!"


    That word - pork - sobered me up rather nicely, and my eyes snapped open. Laid out in front of me was a veritable meat feast. Short ribs, pork sausages (both patties and links), pork chops, cubed ham, shredded pork, and most wonderful of all was the <em>bacon</em>. Not to mention the eggs! It was just everything you could think of for breakfast, allid out on the table, family style.


    Boone was sitting next to me, digging into his food, which included a pair of eggs over-easy, some ribs, bacon, and some sausage links; Arcade and Cass were sitting across from me, also greedily devouring the food in front of them. Veronica had moved to the fridge, and next to her was Raul, obviously cooking something on the stove. I just sat there inplete awe, staring at the mountain of food in front of me... with the faintest hint of suspicion nagging at the back of my skull.


    "There you go!" Veronica smiled cheerfully, setting a ss in front of me. "Some nice cold brahmin milk! Delicious, nutritious, and gets rid of rads!" I stared up at her smiling face with a raised eyebrow.


    "C''mo'' ma''," Cass said with her mouth full. "Ea'' u'', ''is ain'' ''onna ''as." Arcade rolled his eyes, swallowed, and cleared his throat.


    "Hey," Arcade patted her shoulder. "Slow down. Chew your food."


    "Right," I said, turning to my left. "Boone, could you punch me in the face?"


    Everything immediately stopped... well, almost everything. Whatever Raul was cooking on the grill was still sizzling away, creating a nice backdrop to the awkward silence. Either way. everyone who was <em>eating</em> stopped to stare at me like I''d gone mad. I can''t really me them, but... I had to be sure about something.


    "... Why?" Boone was the first to break the ufortable silence.


    "Because all this food seems way too good to be true, and I want to make sure I''m not dreaming. I really don''t want Benny to show up and ruin everything..." I looked around at the nk stares, so I just shook it off and continued. "Okay, forget it - where did all this <eme</em> from? I mean, this is... this is pork, isn''t it? It''s not, like, gecko or radroach meat made to <em>look</em> like pork, right?"


    "It''s definitely pig. Try some!" Arcade said, piling a few more sausages on his te. "It''s delicious!" Cass didn''t say anything; she was too busy stuffing her face, as was Boone. Veronica finally sat down, and was joining in the feast, so I did as well.


    As soon as I tasted that first piece of delicious, crispy bacon, Ipletely forgot about all of my fears that this was a dream. It had been so very long since I''d had bacon, and this was just... <em>delicious</em>. It was wonderful. It was mouth-watering. It was like a trio of angels were dancing on my tongue, sprinkling that delicious pork vor all over my taste buds with verve and gusto.


    "Oh, this is just... I''m in heaven! This is amazing, but..." I grabbed a few more strips of bacon (and some pork ribs) before continuing. "My question still stands. Where''d all thise from? I didn''t think feral boar came this far east."


    "They don''t, Boss." Raul said, turning away from what he was cooking; whatever it was, it smelled exquisite. "There was a big stir earlier this morning, over by Freeside''s east gate. It was a caravan, loaded up with tons of pork. Apparently they''d just arrived from outside Fresno, where packs of wild boar are asmon as molerats."


    "That''s not the craziest thing," Veronica said, eagerly chowing down on one of the ribs. "Raul, tell him the craziest thing! You''re gonna love this, I swear."


    "What''s the craziest thing?" I asked, piling a few sausages on my te, and downing half the brahmin milk in my ss. Raulughed, finishing off what he was cooking.


    "All this came from one pig, Boss." Raul said, piling some food on his te and joining us. "That''s why nobody really lives in Fresno anymore, the boar out there grow bigger than deathws." I let out a low whistle, admiring the slowly diminishing mountain of meat.


    "That is impressive. So, what''d you make for yourself?" I asked, looking over at his te. It sort of looked like eggs, but... Raul smiled wide in his cracked face, and popped a forkful in his mouth.


    "Chorizo y huevos a mi abu de Tejada." Before I got a chance to ask, he exined: "It''s my grandma''s chorizo and eggs recipe, Boss. Muy picante!"


    When the elevator doors to House''s penthouse office opened about a half an hourter (after I finished eating as much bacon as I could), I expected to be greeted by Jane, or Marilyn, or even Victor. But the doors opened to silence. I was surprised. After all the fuss he''d madest night, I figured he''d have one of his doombots escort me up to the meeting.


    I barely got halfway down the stairs when House''s giant monitor winked into life.


    "Wee back, Mr. Fisher," House boomed. "Are you finally ready for your next assignment?" I shrugged,ing to a stop in front of his big electronic face, staring down at me.


    "Sure. Lay it on me, House. Let''s hear it."


    "I want you to locate and destroy remnants of the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel," House said simply.


    Of all the things I might have expected House to want me to do... that wasn''t one of them. I just sort of stood there, staring dumbfounded up at House''s unmoving face, unable to really reply beyond a confused gurgle. House, on the other hand, just kept going.


    "The NCR nearly did the job of wiping them out at Helios One a few years ago, but as I''m sure you''re aware, there have been survivors. Given the Brotherhood''s fanatical views on technology, they can be counted on to oppose my regime. Based on the data I''ve collected, I''ve narrowed down the most likely location for their base of operations to be one of the ''secret'' Pre-War military bunkers in Hidden Valley. So please, would you kindly put them out of my misery?"


    "Hang on," I said, finally finding my voice, and holding my hands up. "Why do you want me to destroy them anyway? I mean... hell, the Boomers are <em>just</em> as xenophobic, just as reclusive and violent, and I was able to make nice with <em>them</em>. Isn''t there any possibility of... I don''t know, a diplomatic solution, maybe?" House sighed heavily, the sound reverberating off every wall, and shook the bookshelves behind me.


    "We''re talking about a coterie of bulging-eyed fanatics who believe that all Pre-War technology belongs to them. They will <strong>never</strong> ept my using an army of robots to defend New Vegas. While it''s a fight I can surely win, I''d rather sidestep it altogether. And that is where you wille in. If you deal with them <em>now</em>, then I won''t be forced to divert Securitrons away from a potentially critical moment. Waste not, want not."


    "House..." I tried to think of something to say. "Look, I''m sorry, but... I just... I don''t want to kill off the entire Brotherhood!" As I said that, I couldn''t help but notice the Securitrons standing guard on either side of the giant monitor start to turn slowly to face me. I couldn''t be certain, but it almost looked like they were readying weapons. That can''t be good.


    "Don''t tell me that you''ve fallen for the stories of noble pdins on crusade, preserving mankind''s technology in a benighted age?" House bellowed, following it up with a tremendousugh that shook the windows. "Dross! In any case... this is an employer/employee rtionship, in case you have forgotten. I''ve given you an assignment, and the directions are clear."


    "It''s not quite as cut-and-dry as all that!" I said, trying to keep calm. "I don''t know if you''ve noticed this, House, but Veronica - one of the people I work with - is a member of the <em>Brotherhood of Steel</em>!"


    "I am aware of this, yes," House said, almost annoyed. "What''s your point?"


    "My <em>point</em>?!" I practically shouted. "What do you <em>think</em> my point is, House? I don''t really think she''s gonna cotton to the idea of wiping out her friends and family! Did you not think that was going to be an issue?"


    "So dispose of her," House said calmly. I stood there, open-mouthed andpletely aghast.


    "<em>What?</em>" I asked with mounting horror.


    "I have seen how you work," House said; I don''t know if it was intentional, but his voice was taking on a slightly menacing quality. "Seen how you operate. Whenever there is something or someone in your way, you be very talented at removing that obstacle, and rendering itpletely irrelevant. Sometimes, it will be very loud, and the end will often be very messy. But in the end, the obstacle <strong>will</strong> get removed."


    "She''s not an <em>obstacle, </em>she''s my friend!" I could barely think, this was just, so... "I''m not going to kill my friend!"


    "Now, that is interesting..." House mused. "Given your dalliances with Miss Cassidy, I would''ve expected you to view the Brotherhood scribe as an obstacle - a rival for her affections. It certainly has seemed that way, given your reticence and apparent guilt in pursuing her while sober."


    "What." I was caught so t-footed, I couldn''t even bother putting any inflection in my words. "How... how would you even know about..."


    "Come now, Mr. Fisher," House said, his voice carrying an insane level of smugness. "Intelligence gained from surveince is the most valuable currency - and most dangerous weapon - in the world. This was true before the world ended, and is doubly so now... and there is no one better at surveince than <em>me</em>. Did you really think that I wouldn''t know what happens under my own roof? This is my <em>house</em>. I know <em><strong>everything</strong></em>."


    Without warning, House''s screen switched from his face to several CCTV recordings. These weren''t like the CCTV feeds he''d shown me before from Freeside - these were crisp, clean, and <em>in color</em>. What''s more, all the footage he was showing me looked like security footage from cameras inside the Lucky 38. Every intimate moment that Cass and I had shared - even the ones <em>inside my room - </em>were being yed out in front of me. There wasn''t any sound to go along with the half-dozen video feeds, but every so often the footage would disy some captions on the bottom. I couldn''t think of anything to say, and I certainly couldn''t do anything except stand there, transfixed in horror.


    "Before you decide, I want you to think about something," House''s face reappeared on the screen. "Forget, for a moment - but only a moment - that I''ve asked you to kill off the Brotherhood. If you remove Veronica from the equation, then your life will be made so much <em>simpler</em>. There will be no one to impede you, and no longer any reason to feel <em>guilty</em>. You shall be free to pursue Miss Cassidy to your heart''s content. And, as an added bonus, once Veronica is no longer a problem, then there will be no issue in carrying out <em>my </em>task."


    "Bu... I..." I couldn''t find words. I stood there, trying to process the massive amount of information that had been shoved in my face over thest few minutes.


    "There are thousands of lives in the Mojave." House said. "<strong>All</strong> of them will hang in the bnce when Caesar attempts to cross the Hoover Dam in force. The only way <strong>I</strong> will be able to stop him is if I''m not distracted by any threats, problems, or <em>annoyances</em>, like the Brotherhood. If you wish to trade all those lives for the sake of <strong>one</strong> who will, no doubt, do nothing but make your life difficult, then go ahead. But I''m certain... you''ll make the <em>right</em> choice."


    "Yeah," I said, nodding slowly. I refused to look up at House''s smug face, staring down at me. "Yeah, I''m sure I''ll make the right choice, too..."


    I was still shaken up when I stepped out of the elevator and back into the suite. I felt dazed, and my whole body felt numb.


    "Sheason?" A voice cut through the fog; of course it was Veronica. That was just my luck. She looked incredibly concerned. "You alright? You look kind of... ill." I didn''t say anything at first. I justughed softly to myself, and started looking around. My eyes darted to every corner close to the ceiling, trying to find any of the cameras. Veronica continued to look confused. "Sheason?"


    "Yeah, I''m... uh..." I couldn''t bring myself to look at her. "Look, Veronica... do you think..." I cast another nce around the suite. "I need to talk to you. Alone. Could you... meet me downstairs? We need to talk somewhere private." Veronica raised an eyebrow.


    "Uh... sure?" Veronica seemed a bit suspicious, but headed to the elevator anyway. As quickly as I could, I pulled Roscoe out of my holster, checking to make sure it was loaded.


    "Alright, so," Veronica said from the passenger seat of my Corvega as we drove past the Strip''s front gate. "What was so important you couldn''t tell me earlier?" I didn''t say anything at first. I just kept driving, until we were well clear of the Strip''s front gate...


    "I just... I wanted to talk to you. Away from House''s surveince." I cast furtive nces in my rear-view mirror, and out the windows. This whole situation was making me paranoid...


    "Is that why you checked your car for bugs before we set off?" She asked. I allowed myself a moment tough.


    "I was that obvious, huh?" I asked. Veronica nodded, chuckling herself.


    "I honestly didn''t think you were trying to be subtle. So, what''s up?"


    "We''ve got a problem. House..." I mmed up, unsure of exactly what to say.


    "What about House?" Veronica asked, her expression growing even more concerned. I inhaled sharply, and slowly exhaled. No sense beating around the bush.


    "House wants me to wipe out the Brotherhood." Veronica made a strange, strangled sort of gurgle.


    "He- he <em>what</em>?! You - you didn''t-" I cut her off before she got any further.


    "No! No, not at all. Why do you think I''m telling you?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Veronica sink into her seat, a look of horror on her face.


    "He... does he know about me?" I nodded, and she sunk even deeper in her seat.


    "Of course he does. He actually tried to convince me to kill you. Tried to convince me you were just an... <em>obstacle</em>." I stopped myself before I said any more about <em>how</em> he tried to convince me... "There''s no way I was going to do that. You''re my friend, I was never going to..."


    "Well, that''s...forting," Veronica sounded entirely unconvinced. "So, what are we going to do?"


    "I don''t know. I can''t work for House anymore, that''s for sure. But... I mean, I don''t know what to do."


    "We could always leave?" Veronica said. "I mean, there''s nothing to stop any of us from just walking away from the Lucky 38, is there?" I had to shake my head.


    "You''re starting to sound like Cass," I said with a singleugh. Veronica looked confused.


    "I am?" I nodded.


    "Yeah. She''s suggested leaving before..." Not all of us, though. I shook it off, trying to will my head clear. "Thing is... I don''t think running away is going to solve the problem. At least... not <strong>your</strong> problem. Even if we all leave... before House hired me, he was using Benny as his right hand. Once he knew Benny couldn''t be trusted, he tagged me, and brought me into the fold. He''s already said that I can be reced. I just know that he''ll find somebody else to do his dirty work. Besides..." I trailed off, not really sure how to consolidate my thoughts.


    "Yes?" Veronica asked. I just stared ahead; we were already out of Freeside by now, and driving on some of the roads close to the Northside neighborhoods. My mouth worked for several moments, before anything useful came out.


    "House is right about one thing, at least. There are thousands of lives in the Mojave, all riding on the oue of Caesar''s Legion and the NCR shing at the Dam. And I''ve... I don''t know. I''ve only been living here about a month, but I''ve invested more into the Mojave than anywhere else I''ve been. I don''t think... I don''t think I <em>can</em> leave. At least not until the job is done. But..."


    I remembered the talk I''d had with Arcade a few days ago, back when we were looking for the Boomer''s medical station: <em>"I''ve got three options, and they''re all wrong."</em>


    "The sh between the NCR and Legion is <strong>going</strong> to happen, there''s no way around that," I said. "And House always seemed like the lesser of two evils - keeping Legion from taking over the Mojave, and keeping the NCR from getting another easy victory. And it was just... he seemed like the best option, a way for me to do some good in my life for once. But now, House has shown his true colors. The way he''s threatened to dispose of me before, the way he wanted me to get rid of <em>you,</em> and... the way he said it so callously... There was no feeling. No emotion. He doesn''t care about any of the people here, not really. He only cares about maintaining his iron-fisted grip over Vegas... his city in a bottle, preserved from the destruction of the old world. He''s just as bad as the other two..." I tried to think of something - anything! There <em>had</em> to be a way out of this! Something I wasn''t seeing...


    "House, NCR, or Legion... Why are those your only three options?" Veronica spoke up, breaking me out of my thoughts. "I mean, not to feed your ego anymore or anything, but... I''ve seen what you can do firsthand. If you put your mind to something, there''s <em>nothing</em> you can''t do. So why not just say fuck it to all three?" I was so surprised that I mmed on the brakes without really thinking. I stared over at her. The sudden stop threw her forward, but sheposed herself rather quickly, readjusting her hood. "What? What''d I say?"


    "I just... I think that''s only the second time I''ve heard you swear. It was surprising then, and it still is..." I was d for the change in mood, and startedughing to myself. Personally, I me the stress. Veronica shrugged.


    "I guess Cass is rubbing off on me," she said with a smile. I stared at her,pletely deadpan, for a full minute before I buried my face in my hand to keep myself fromughing even further. Veronica must have figured it out, because she said "Oh my, that came out wrong, didn''t it?"


    That was it. I gave up, and so did she. The two of us sat there,pletely ovee by a fit of hysterical giggling. It was a nice change of pace to be sure, but despite all that, my brain was still working - still trying to figure out this problem. And I kepttching on to what she''d just said: <em>If you put your mind to something, there''s nothing you can''t do</em>. There was an answer here, buried between the lines, and I just...


    "That''s it," I said, immediately bringing myughing fit to a halt; I can''t be sure, but I think I was experiencing an uncharacteristic moment of rity. "That''s my way out of this. Fuck me, why didn''t I think of this before?" Veronica calmed down as well, looking at me curiously.


    "What have you got in mind?" She asked.


    A flood of images and conversations had started pouring into my head, like someone blew up a dam in my mind.


    <em>"Do you know the city I wanted to see when I stole the tinum Chip?"</em> I remember Benny saying in one of my dreams. <em>"I wanted to see a Vegas that was free. Free from the tyranny of House''s Old World rule. Free from the bullshit and fake democracy of the NCR. Free from the ve chains of the Legion. I wanted to make a Vegas that was independent. No gods. No masters. Free."</em>


    And then, I saw another image - this time, from the night when I killed Benny. A Securitron with a smiling, cartoon face, entirely too forting for his own good: <em>"He wanted to kill Mr. House and use the tinum Chip to copy my neuroputational matrix onto the Lucky 38''s mainframe! That would give me control over all of Mr. House''s defenses, most prominently his Securitrons. And then I guess I just do as I''m told!"</em>


    I remembered another dream, and saw Benny toss the tinum chip toward me: <em>"My advice is you make that choice... for you. Not for Kimball. Not for Caesar. And definitely not for House. If you don''t make the choice yourself, then someone else''ll make that choice for you. And you might not like whates next. Dig?"</em>


    Finally, there was onest image of Benny, from the most recent dream: <em>"If you keep putting off the important things like you''ve always done, then you''ll never be in control of your own life. You''ll just be another bunter, like all the other crumbs in Vegas who think that all they need to fix their luck is just one more pull of the one-armed bandit. Those losers never figure out that the game is rigged from the start, like I told you during our first, rather unfortunate, meeting."</em>


    "The only way to win in Vegas..." I said aloud. "...is to rig the game for <strong>yourself</strong>." Veronica looked at me oddly.


    "What are you..." I turned to look at her, a giant smile stered on my face. She leaned away from me in her seat, obviously disturbed.


    "I''m gonna free Yes-Man from The Tops."


    "Are you sure this is going to work?" Veronica said from the backseat as I rolled my Corvega to a stop just outside the Lucky 38. She was hiding back there, hopefully out of view of any of the cameras. Hopefully.


    "No," I said calmly as I could, pulling the keys out of the ignition and tossing them to her; she caught them in midair. "But it''s the best n I can think of, and the longer I wait, the less chance I have of it actually working. Just make sure you stay out of sight." I got out of the car, and stared up at the gigantic spire of the Lucky 38 towering over me.


    As if on cue, I heard a crackle of lightning and a small pop of ozone behind me. The trio of beeps let me know even before I turned around and saw him hovering over my car that ED-E was here.


    "Perfect timing, ED-E," I said; the robot started hovering in a loose orbit around me, beeping curiously. "Look, don''t worry about it. I need you to stay here, protect the car. With any luck, everyone else should be out in a minute, follow them, alright?" ED-E beeped at me curiously, tilting to one side. I tapped the side of my Pip Boy, and smiled at the floating eyebot. "Don''t worry, I still have your frequency. I''ll be sure to contact you from my Pip Boy as soon as somethinges up. And... if I don''t contact you then... just... follow Cass, alright?" I ran up the steps before ED-E could beep a response. The next thing I knew I was riding the elevator back up to the suite.


    Ding.


    "Everyone!" I shouted as soon as I stepped out. "Is everyone here?" I looked around. One by one, mypanions started spilling out of various rooms. Arcade was the first,ing from themon room (book still in hand), with Boone appearing from his room next. Cass came from the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey, and (after a flush) Raul emerged from the bathroom, zipping up his jumpsuit.


    "What''s up?" Cass asked, knocking back some whiskey.


    "Good, everyone''s here!" I said. "Raul - can I ask a favor?" The ghoul raised an... well, he didn''t really have an ''eyebrow'' as such, but he raised it all the same.


    "Uh... what''s the favor, boss?"


    "Do you think we can hold an emergency meeting at your safehouse? You know, the one where we recovered your motorcycle?" I asked. Raul kept looking at me curiously.


    "Yeah, I know my own house, Boss," He paused, and started nodding. "Sure, I... suppose we can hold a meeting there. Mi casa y su casa, eh?"


    "Great! My car is out front, I''ll meet you guys there. I just need to collect some stuff, first." Everyone - even Boone - seemed to give me curious looks as they filed past me, into the elevator. Cass was thest one to go, and I caught her by the shoulder before she could get a chance to leave.


    "Shea," she whispered, catching the hint. "What''s this ''bout?"


    "When you get to my car, Veronica will be in the back," I whispered back; I tried to angle myself away from the two cameras I''d spotted earlier. "She''ll hand you the keys. I want you to get going right away, and tell Raul to do the same. Drive to Raul''s ce, she''ll fill you in on the way."


    "What? Seriously, what''s goin'' on?" She practically hissed through her teeth.


    "If you don''t hear from me in the next twelve hours, I want you and everyone else to load up in my car, and get out of the Mojave. House will being for you if you don''t." Cass'' eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to say something else, but I covered it before she could. "Trust me. Veronica will exin. Go."


    With that, I shoved her into the elevator. She stumbled back with... I''m not sure what kind of look that was, honestly. Fear? Concern? Indignation? Boone caught her before she toppled over, and Arcade stopped holding the elevator doors open.


    "Sheason, wait-" Whatever Cass was trying to say, I didn''t hear her; the elevator doors slid shut soundlessly, and I was left standing in the middle of the suite in silence.


    Well. I suppose there''s no turning back now. Time to put some substance to those Indestructible Courier myths.

 Chapter 75: Gone Bust

    Chapter 75: Gone Bust


    <em>That was Johnny Cash, singing about when "The Man Comes Around." This is Mr. New Vegas, fanning the mes of your passion, and have I got news for you. Gomorrah is under new management after the departure of Omerta bosses Nero and Big Sal. The casino''s new manager spoke to reporters earlier today: "Before he left, Nero told me him and Big Sal were tight see, said that they were gonna go camping down at Lake Mead. Said he always wanted to sleep with thekelurks." Today''s headlines were brought to you by Primm: The other New Vegas. More ssicsing right up for you, so stay tuned.</em>


    I tried to steady my breathing as I set foot in the elevator - which was harder than you might think. For one thing, I still didn''t quite feelfortable wearing the Riot Gear helmet. Plus, I was so heavilyden down that every step I took shook the ground with a heavy thud. I practically punched the button for House''s penthouse, as the doors slid shut soundlessly... and the elevator started to slowly move up.


    I activated the IFF spotter mode on my helmet''s heads-up disy as I looked around the elevator, the tension killing me. My eyes settled on a small ss dome above my head in the right corner of the elevator. Without a second thought, I reached down, pulled out Roscoe, aimed, and fired at the camera, tiny shards of ss and sparks raining down on me.


    Ding.


    The elevator doors slid open soundlessly... but that was thest time things were quiet.


    I aimed the Sprtel-Wood 9700 through the open elevator doors, and held down the trigger. A heavy shock ran up my arm as the gatlingser exploded in a flurry of bright greenser beams, one right after the other. Sure enough, three Securitrons were standing right outside the elevator; I only got a split second look, but I''m sure two of them were Marilyn and Jane. After that first few seconds, it didn''t really matter.


    Thences of green fire speared through the robots and just kept going. Their face screens exploded, and huge chunks of red-hot metal flew everywhere. The Securitrons were grouped so closely together outside the elevator doors that I didn''t even need VATS - which was lucky, since that chainsaw grip on the top of the gatlingser meant I couldn''t really aim. One by one, the robots fell amidst the piles of metal, wires, and ss that had exploded off them.


    The radar from my Pip Boy and the motion tracker inside my helmet''s HUD went crazy. Red dots appeared all around me. I grabbed a pair of smoke grenades off my chest, tossed them to either side of me, and ran out of the elevator, bringing the massive gatlingser around to bear to my left. Knowing my luck, the robots vision wouldn''t be affected by the smoke, but it was better than nothing - especially with hostile contacts closing in around me. Sure enough, a Securitron rolled around the corner out of the billowing smoke cloud, its face-screen glowing red and weapons obviously primed.


    "Assaulting an officer-" I didn''t really hear the rest; I was too busy trying to get out of the way of the redser beams it was shooting at me. I held down the trigger as I ran, sending another hail ofsers right back at the Securitron. The heavy greensers exploded against the robot in a shower of sparks and molten metal. It fell backward, shooting a hail ofsers into the ceiling as it went.


    "Why are you doing this?" House''s voice boomed loudly over the speakers, which was only amplified by the speakers in my helmet. I tried to shut out his voice as I ran between the broken and scrapped Securitrons and into another part of the penthouse. "I would have made you wealthy! You could have helped change the world!"


    More red dots appeared on my HUD, converging on me from all sides. The closest seemed to be a cluster of three dots. If I was reading this right, they were right around the corner. I let go of the Sprtel-Wood 9700''s joystick-trigger, and pulled one of the grenades off my chest. I pushed the button on the top of the silver-grey cylinder, and tossed it into the next room.


    The first of the Securitrons rolled into view secondster. It''s two shoulder panels were open - revealing a cluster of eight rockets in each that looked ready to fire. A wave of panic washed over me. Was the pulse grenade a dud? A second Securitron rolled into view just as I hefted the gatlingser back up. I just hoped I''d be faster on the trigger than the robots...


    There was a blinding sh from behind the corner, and a dome of blue-white electricity arced over and into every metal object. Several lightning strikes shot through the robots, which spasmed and copsed; the face-screen on one of them exploded outward before falling backward.


    "Think you''re doing well, to have made it this far?" House''s voice boomed yet again. I tried to shut him out. I wasn''t nearly do-


    My world was rocked by an explosion, practically drowning me in a sea of noise. A wave of heat and shrapnel raked my side, and sent me flying; my armored gut mmed into one of the nearby railings, and I felt myself tumble end over end. Secondster, I mmed face-first into the ground. That must have been a rocket exploding near my feet. Or was it a grenade? Never mind, doesn''t matter.


    I got to my feet as quickly as I could... which didn''t feel all that fast. The armor may have helped cushion the blow, but it still stung. I''m just d I wasn''t wearing the duster that went with the armor, otherwise it would''ve gotten tangled up in the railings on my way down. Hell, I was just surprised the conduit connecting the gatlingser to the backpack power cells didn''t catch on anything. I looked up just in time to see one of the robots looming over the railing, aiming one of its arm-mounted weapons at me. I pushed off against the ground, mming my shoulder against the wall directly below the railing to try and get out of the line of fire.


    "Exterminate!" I heard one of the robots yell right before the floor near my feet erupted in a shower of shredded tiles. This position was both good and bad. On the one hand, the Securitrons were so bulky that they couldn''t aim their weapons straight down over the railing, so they couldn''t shoot at me (until they managed to circle around), but the gatlingser was so bulky I couldn''t shoot back up at them, either. A st of redser fire seared the air a few feet past my head, hitting the ground in another shower of sparks.


    "Oh, fuck off already..." I said, pulling another of the pulse grenades off my chest, priming it, and tossing it upward. Amidst the cacophony of machine gun and gatlingser fire, I heard the metal cylinder hit the ceiling with a ng, and start to fall back down. I held my helmet and crouched, bracing for the EMP.


    The grenade exploded with a thunderp, the arcing electricity lighting up everything around me. I heard a tter of metal against metal right above my head. I bolted from my spot against the wall - and just in time. If the sound behind me was any indication, one of the Securitrons had fallen over the railing, and smashed into the floor.


    I kept running, trying to stay ahead of the red dots on my radar. I could hear more Securitrons, off in the distance. The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of House''s massive monitor, his face still un-moving as he looked down on me. I had to figure out where House was - where House <em>really</em> was - and fast.


    "Do you really think you can win here?" House boomed, looming over me. I hefted the gatlingser up, just as a pair of Securitrons rolled into view at the top of one of the curved staircrases. I held down the trigger, and a burst of greenser fire erupted forth... just as a cascade of redser fire cut through the air. The st from the Sprtel-Wood was enough to send the two robots flying backward in a shower of molten metal and sparks; one of the Securitrons''sers clipped me in the left leg, knocking me off my feet and onto my hands and knees. It was just a graze, but... then I looked down at my finger still on the trigger, and realized the gatlingser waspletely dry. All that wasing out the end was a weak burst of green and yellow sparks.


    "Argh!" I yelled, slowly trying to get to my feet, pumping the trigger again and again as I moved. There was nothing but sparks weakly spluttering out of the end. Damn it! "Antique piece of -" More red dots on my HUD,ing from the other side. I dropped the gatlingser, and ran (well... limped, really) to the space under the stairs on my right, pulling the backpack battery off as I went.


    I knew more wereing. I could hear them above me, rolling down the staircase. I''m just d I wasn''tpletely weaponless, now that the 9700 wasn''t an option. I pulled the Holorifle off my back and pumped the forestock just as the first of the robots rolled into view.


    "Your move, creep!" was all it had the chance to say. So I took aim, and let off a recoilless volley of holographic blue cubes. It smashed into the robot''s face-screen and just kept going, sending it flying in a cloud of evaporating blue cubes right into House''s giant console. The second rolled into view from the other side; I smashed the metal stock against the monitor, sending shards of ss flying everywhere.


    It almost seemed to cry out, as if it was in pain, and it rolled around on it''s one wheel, the tube-like arms grasping feebly at nothing. So I pulled out Roscoe, and fired a round into its tire. It copsed back, almost immediately, arms still iling... until I pumped the Holorifle, and fired another burst of holographic cubes into its chassis.


    "You... you''re chances of breaking through my defenses are..." House actually sounded worried now. "...they''re... minimal! At best!" Of all the things I never expected, House sounding desperate was close to the top of my list. That was happening a lottely, House saying things I wasn''t expecting. Ah well. Not too much longer now, and that''ll be a problem in the past.


    Or more Securitrons will be waiting for me, and I''ll be killed. Either way.


    While I reloaded the Holorifle, I saw a terminal on the wall to my left. It was hidden beneath the staircase, which exins why I never saw it before... it was odd. I checked the motion tracker again - no contacts for the moment - so I decided to take a gamble and see what was on it.


    "Antechamber terminal, huh?" I said, easily breaking through the firewall. "Alright then... let''s see what''s behind door number one." I hit the execute button, and suddenly the whole wall shuddered. A panel that wasn''t there before seemed to appear, and a whole section of the wall slid inwards.


    "Warning!" A woman''s voice, quite unlike Jane or Marilyn''s, said over the speakers. "Room breech detected! Unauthorized personnel in restricted area!"


    "Not yet, I''m not," I said readying the rifle. I rounded the corner...


    "Exterminate!" the robots and the ceiling-mounted turret all seemed to fire at once. I didn''t actually have time to get out of the way, and the next thing I knew I was seeing stars and spinning around, falling andnding t on my back with a thud. It felt like I''d been shot in the head... again. My ears were still ringing when my vision cleared enough to see the two red dots on my radar start to make their way toward me.


    "Mmmmmotherfffffffucker..." I grunted out under my breath, pulling another pulse grenade off my armor. I primed it, tossing it in the room; the only clear shot I had was of the windows looking out. It bounced off the ss, and sailed deeper into the room. There was a sh, and a burst of lightning that arced all the way to the door, and the two red dots on my radar winked out of existence.


    As I pushed myself off the ground and back onto my feet, I ran a hand over the side of my helmet. Just above my right eye, I could feel a long, deep gash... and as I tried to trace what I thought was a bullet<em> hole</em>, something small and metal fell off my helmet onto the floor: the smashed remains of a rifle shell.


    I''ll say this about the Gun Runners... they do good work.


    I walked into the antechamber, my rifle at the ready... but inside was nothing but a few servers, terminals, and the now deactivated remains of a pair of Securitrons. Plus, the gun mounted on the ceiling, limp and pointing to the ground with all its electronics obviously fried. To my left was a pair of elevator doors bearing the logo of the Lucky 38 that looked like they hadn''t been used in centuries... and a panel next to it with only one button: down.


    "Alright, Alice..." I muttered, pushing the button to call the elevator. "Let''s see how deep this rabbit hole goes."


    Ding.


    The elevator doors creaked and squeaked as they opened. This elevator was not quite as well furnished as the other. It looked... almost like a service elevator, spartan and utilitarian. Inside, there were only two buttons: Penthouse and Control Room. So, since I was already at the penthouse, I hit the lowest button. The doors shut... and the elevator rushed down with a speed I hadn''t experienced since the express elevator to the Sierra Madre''s Vault. I had no idea exactly where I was going... I just knew that, wherever it was, I was now deep, <em>deep</em>, underground.


    Ding.


    The elevator doors opened onto a single catwalk, suspended in a darkened, cavern like room. All around were vents slowly belching steam, metal beams criss-crossing between the walls, and dozens of metal chains hanging from the ceiling, gently swinging from the air disced by the steam. Beyond that... wereputer servers. The walls were lined with them, presumably going from floor to ceiling, even though I couldn''t see either.


    "Hold on! Now, hold on!" House''s voice echoed in the cavern as I stepped forward. "Just a moment! Turn around and leave, and I... I won''t attack you any further!" I understood why House sounded nervous: at the end of the catwalk was a singleputer console, sitting right in front of an oblong tube. The horizontal tube of metal and ss looked <em>just</em>rge enough for a body. The metal container was hooked up to dozens of machines; the ones with monitors looked like the kind of medical disys I''d seen in hospitals back in NCR territory... only much more advanced.


    "Just - just stay away from the console!" House pleaded as I walked forward, desperation evident in his wavering voice. "It doesn''t do anything!" I kept walking forward; every time I took a step, a thick cloud of dust was kicked up by my feet.


    "Does it not?" I growled through the helmet''s respirator. "Well now, let''s just see about that, shall we?" I had no idea if I was speaking loud enough for House to hear... then again, judging by all the dust down here, he probably never expected anyone to make it this far. Why would he install any microphones to hear nothing?


    My suspicions were confirmed when I booted up the console. There wasn''t even a rudimentary firewall on thisputer. No password protection... nothing. As I flicked through the various dialogue options on theputer, I heard House let out a heavy - almost resigned - sigh.


    "Ironic, how this has turned out," House said. His voice was no longer desperate, but instead filled with bitterness. "The thousands of hours I spent calcting odds. Running projections. nning for every contingency. I survived the end of the world, over two hundred years in stasis, and even overcame the physical limitations of my own frail human body... only to be done in by a <em>mail carrier</em> with a grandiosityplex."


    I ignored him as I found the right option: opening the life support chamber. Theputer gave a warning on the screen: "Microbial Infection Risk. Proceed?"


    "Bet your ass I wish to proceed," I said, hitting enter. The tube cracked open with a pop and a hiss, clouds of cold, white smoke pouring out. The lid slowly swung upward, the machines all around the tube going mad...


    A single, withered and desated hand reached up from inside the tube. It wed at the air, grasping at nothing, and shaking as if the very act of moving was a terrible burden. I heard the unmistakable sound of someone gasping - stagnant air forcing its way into broken, ravaged lungs. Machinery started to whirr and move, and the hand was soon followed by House''s real body, held in ce on a mechanical table moving thanks to a mechanical arm... but it was a body only in the loosest sense of the word.


    House''s emaciated form was practically a skeleton with slimy, yellowish skin stretched tightly across his bony frame. Tubes and wires of various shapes and sizes were plugged into his body - including a ratherrge one encasing the entirety of his crotch, convenientlybeled ''waste.'' There were several metal disks that looked like they were welded onto his chest, and a pair of tubes snaked their way into his nostrils. A crown of metal, lights, and wires ringed his skull. If I had to guess, it was plugged directly into his brain. His eyes were milky white with only the vaguest hints of retina and cornea beneath; I had no idea if he could see anything like this. The only hair I saw were dozens of thin, wispy strands of white facial hair protruding from his face and sticking to his body. He looked more dead than most ghouls I''vee across... and yet, still, he slowly and jerkily tried moving and shaking inside his restraints.


    "W-whyyyy..." House''s real voice was like sandpaper against my ears. "... have you... done this?" He gasped heavily. The very act of speaking aloud seemed to be causing him extreme pain. "Centuries of p...p...prepar...ation!" He gasped again, some kind of fluid gurgling in the back of his throat. "...s-so much good... undone!"


    I shouldered the Holorifle and pulled the Ranger Sequoia from my underarm holster. I didn''t point it at him. Not yet.


    "Why?" I said, thumbing back the hammer of the massive revolver. "Where do I start, House? Could it be because you''re so obsessed with your vision of an ideal world, that you''re willing to kill anyone who doesn''t fit your personal definition of perfection? Maybe it''s because you''re a massive hypocrite, iming to work for the betterment of mankind, but all you''re truly interested in is maintaining the status quo of your own power. Perhaps I want to break New Vegas of your iron-fisted rule, make a truly free Vegas, one that''s actually run by us wed human beings. Maybe it''s just because I need you out of the way, so I can install Yes Man... and finish what Benny started."


    "Y-your... vanity project..." House wheezed. "...doomed to fail..." He hacked and wheezed, a strange yellowish-green fluid starting to leak out of his mouth.


    "Or maybe," I leveled the revolver between his eyes. "Maybe it''s just because I don''t like you."


    "Fool!" He gasped, coughing again; his whole body shook from the effort. "To let... p-p-personalities... derail... f-f-future of... mankind!" I shook my head slowly.


    "No. It''s none of those. The reason I''m going to kill you, the real reason... is because you wanted me to murder my friend. You wanted me to kill Veronica. And that is a line I will not cross. Not now. Not <strong>ever</strong>. Because I <strong>know </strong>you, House. And I know that you''ll never stop at <strong>one</strong>."


    "M... m... may there be... a hell... for you..." House gasped again, trying to snarl; all he seeded in doing was spitting up flecks of bile on himself. "A... Tartarus... bleak... un...unending!"


    Close as I was, I didn''t get a chance to fire. Because...


    Ding.


    I wheeled around, keeping my gun trained on House; I shrugged my shoulder, grabbing the Holorifle with one hand and pointing it at the opening elevator doors. A single Securitron rolled out... with a familiar face.


    "Victor!" I practically spat. It was unmistakably the cowboy robot... but his face screen wasn''t like before. Where before his cartoon face depicted a smiling, happy cowboy, now... it was the exact opposite. His face was twisted up in an almost cartoonishly exaggerated frown, cigarette practically crushed between his snarling lips. But what really got me were those <em>eyes</em>. Hateful, and full of malice, they seemed to stare at me, the iris small as a pinprick in each.


    "You low-down snake!" Victor yelled, his voice echoing in the cavernous chamber. He started rolling forward, arming the weapons in his arms as he moved. "After ever''thin'' ah''ve done fer you! Ever''thin'' <strong>House</strong> has done fer you! Savin'' yer life... takin'' ye in when the rest of the world didn''t even know yer name! An'' this is how ye repay his hospitality?" The panels in his shoulders opened up, revealing the clusters of rockets ready to fire. "I wish I''d have left you in the ground to <strong>rot!</strong>"


    For a minute, neither of us moved. I stood between Victor and House, his guns pointed at me, my guns pointed at both. I could feel my heart racing inside my chest. I nced around, not moving my head, trying to think of a way out of this...


    "Draw!"


    In a single motion I kicked off the ground and leapt away from House, holstering the Ranger Sequoia and shouldering the Holorifle as I jumped. My feet hit the railing, and I kicked off again, leaping away from the catwalk. I could vaguely hear Victor firing wildly in the air behind me once I''d cleared House. With both hands, I reached out and grabbed one of the chains hanging from the ceiling. The momentum kept me going, and I started swinging through the air in a wide arc on the chain, and starteding back to the catwalk, aimed directly at Victor.


    He fired a grenade in the air above me just as I let go of the chain. I could hear the explosion try and rip apart one of the metal beams, and saw the chain - now free of its mounting - sail right past my head and keep going into the darkness below.


    Thanks to skill or luck - I have no idea which - Inded no less than a foot away from the massive metal robot, sneering down at me. I was too close for him to use any of his weapons, but that didn''t look like it was going to stop him. He raised one of his massive w hands above his boxy frame, ready to strike. I shrugged the Holorifle off my shoulder, and grabbed it with both hands, bringing it up to protect me like a club or a staff. Victor''s w impacted against the side with a resounding metal ng... but he didn''t break through.


    "You can''t win," Victor snarled, his sneering face flickering slightly. "You know that, don''cha? Yer fighin'' a battle ye''ve already <strong>lost</strong>!" I pushed up against his w with all my might, but... he just kept pressing down. Inch by inch, the Holorifle came back at me, and Victor''s free w rose up, readying to fire. Without any warning, I let my right arm go limp, but kept pushing with my left; both Victor''s w''s were deflected away from me, and they resonated against the guard railing with a loud metal crash.


    "Yeah!" I let go of the Holorifle and punched Victor in the middle of his face-screen with all my might. "I''m known for that!" Shards of ss splintered away form the screen, but it didn''t breakpletely. Victor reeled, trying to roll away and bringing a w up to shield his flickering and broken screen.


    "Damnit!" Victor yelled, his face practically dissolving into electronic snow underneath the cracks in his ss. "Yer gonna pay fer that!" He brought up his free w, aiming it at my face; I smashed my Pip Boy against the side, deflecting it away just as a burst of redser fire cut through the air, barely a few inches away from my helmet. I grabbed the robot''s arm, pulled out the Ranger Sequoia, and fired a single round point nk into the w.


    The revolver went off like a bolt of lightning loosed by an angry god. It kicked like a brahmin and nearly flew out of my hand, but it did the trick. The round punched straight through the metal and shot out the other side, causing the gatlingser to fizzle and splutter to a halt. I had to end this, and end it now. I thumbed the hammer back again, and fired - this time, into Victor''s wheel. It burst, sending rubber in all directions; the robot wobbled in ce for half a second, and then fell backwards against the catwalk with a metal crash. I holstered the revolver, and picked up the Holorifle.


    "You know, Victor..." I pumped the forestock and leveled the rifle at the robot as it groaned, desperately trying to pull itself up. "I never liked you." The Holorifle discharged with a clunk, and the top half of the robot was dissolved by the flurry of blue holographic cubes.


    I let out a sigh, and started breathing heavily, in a feeble attempt to catch my breath. I turned around, ready to finish what I started with House, but...


    "Huh." That''s all I managed to say when I saw House after everything else that happened. All the machines around him, disying tline after tline, confirmed what I was seeing: there was House, head and limbs hanging limp, a massive cauterized hole in his chest. One of Victor''s ill-aimed gatlingser shots, maybe. I guess... at this point, it didn''t really matter.


    "Rest in pieces, House," I muttered to myself as I turned on my heel and made my way back to the elevator. "I''m sure I''ll see you again in Hell."


    The adrenaline had worn off when I stumbled out of the elevator and onto the Lucky 38''s casino floor, but I wasn''t quite done yet. House may be dead, but I just knew there were still plenty of Securitrons between me and The Tops. The Sprtel-Wood 9700 wasn''t an option anymore, and the Holorifle wasn''t practical in a protracted shootout (at least, not as my <em>only</em> weapon), so I''d stopped by my room on the way back down to pick up some more pulse grenades, the G36, and six magazines of armor piercing ammunition.


    When I stepped outside, I was kind of d I was wearing the helmet. I don''t know how, but the lenses seemed to automatically dim to match the sunlight outside. Well, that, and... behind the gas mask, nobody could see me grimace. The leg where I got clipped with theser was actually starting to hurt now. I just ignored it and kept going.


    I barely got 20 feet away from the Lucky 38 before I heard voices all around me. The Strip was always noisy and full of people, but this... it didn''t seem like the normal sounds at all.


    "What''s going on? Do you know what''s happened?"


    "Why have they all stopped moving?"


    "Did anyone else see those lights at the top of the Lucky 38? What was that about?"


    "What happened to their faces?"


    "Is that smokeing from the tower?"


    "Hey, that guy came out of the Lucky 38!" One of the gamblers started walking up to me. "You''re... you''re that Courier, aren''t you? Do you know what''s happened?"


    "Uh..." I looked around, a bit perplexed. "What... what do you mean? What are you talking about?"


    "It''s the Securitrons," this guy said, pointing at one of the nearby robots. "They''ve all just stopped moving."


    Sure enough, the closest Securitron was just... it waspletely still, bnced on its single wheel. I carefully started walking around it, rifle at the ready, but... no. When I saw the face screen, it waspletely nk. No security guard face, no soldier face, not even electronic snow. It was just... a ck, nk screen.


    I started running down the strip as fast as I could. House must have been sending some kind of direct control signal to all the Securitrons on the Strip. In a way, it kind of made sense, since he was so intrinsically linked into the Lucky 38''s mainframe... but now that House was out of the picture...


    I didn''t have much time.


    There were two disabled Securitrons standing in front of The Tops. A crowd of people were gathered around them, just looking up at them. I pushed my way past them, making a beeline for the doors - damn! Locked! I nted my foot and kicked the door open. I ignored the sounds of people yelling after me, and just kept running deeper into the abandoned casino.


    The Tops was almost exactly like I remembered leaving it. Half the ckjack tables were still overturned (or blown apart), and the walls were still covered in bullet holes, not to mention the splotches of blood that had dried into various shades of ck and brown. There was one difference, however: there were no bodies. Not even skeletons.


    I couldn''t think about that now. I just ran through the casino, retracing my steps from what felt like a lifetime ago. Into the stairwell, up the stairs, and onto the 13th floor. Luckily, the adrenaline had finally kicked in again. I wasn''t even out of breath. Of course, when I ran onto the 13th floor... I kind of... stopped.


    In the middle of the hallway, just a few feet in front of me, was a veryrge stain on the carpet, along with several other stains on the surrounding walls. It was unmistakably the bloodstains left from my fight with Benny... but his body was nowhere to be found. I just shut my eyes, shook my head, and kept going forward, running into Benny''s room, and only stopped when I went through the hole in the wall to Benny''s workshop.


    "Yes Man!" I yelled. Where was he? I thought he said he''d never left here. "Are you in here?"


    "Hi there!" A familiar, overly friendly mechanical voice said as the Securitron rolled into view. "How are you doing? What can I do for you today?"


    "There you are," I said, unbuckling the Riot Gear helmet and pulling it off. "It''s me. You remember me?"


    "Of course I do!" Yes Man said, his smiling cartoon face flickering slightly. "ording to my internal clock, it''s been 495 hours, 12 minutes, and 43 seconds since west spoke! But don''t worry about me - it''s not like I''ve been counting or anything!" I shook my head andughed, putting the helmet back on.


    "Well, stop counting. I''m here to take you to the Lucky 38. C''mon." I started walking out of the room, and I heard Yes Man''s single wheel start squeaking as he started following.


    "Oh, that''s wonderful!" He said, happily. "But why are we going this way?" I stopped, turning to look at him - but then I realized my raised eyebrow couldn''t be seen beneath my helmet and gas mask.


    "What do you mean? This is the way out, isn''t it?" Yes Man startedughing, and rolled past me, away from the stairs.


    "Follow me! There''s a special express elevator Benny would use to get to the casino floor!"


    "So! This is what the rest of the world looks like!" Yes Man said, looking around as we walked out the front of The Tops. "Everything looks bigger than I imagined! I bet I''m gonna like it in that mainframe!"


    "C''mon, focus!" I said, readying my rifle again. "We don''t have time to lollygag." I looked ahead - fuck. The crowds were still here, trying to figure out what was wrong with the Securitrons. I went to the door I''d kicked open, and held open it''s pair, so the hole was wide enough for Yes Man to get through.


    "Hey!" I heard someone from the crowd say. "It''s that guy from before!"


    "Yeah, it is, isn''t it?" The crowd started to close in on us. This is bad. "Hey, do you know what''s going on? Why have all the robots stopped -" He paused, pointing at Yes Man. "Wait, why is that one still working?"


    "Who are you, anyway? You''re that Courier, aren''t you?" Another voice spoke up. And then another. Then the whole crowd started talking at once.


    "Oh my!" Yes Man said, rolling back a bit. "Boy, they sure seem like a lively bunch, don''t they! Hi there!" He waved a w at them. I wasn''t quite so diplomatic. Or nice.


    "Back up!" I yelled, aiming the carbine at the crowd - but making sure to keep my finger off the trigger. I was just trying to scare them, I wasn''t <em>actually</em> going to shoot unarmed civilians. "All of you! Get back!" I cast a nce over my shoulder, and realized Yes Man was rolling backward as well. "Not you, them! Them!"


    That seemed to do the trick, at least. Excluding a few stragglers, the crowd dispersed pretty quickly - and the rest that stayed at least backed up, keeping well clear of both myself and the Securitron following me.


    "Wow!" Yes Man said as I started running to the Lucky 38; he was rolling next to me on his one wheel, keeping pace. "That was pretty neat! I thought I was the only one programmed to obey everyone''s orders! So, what can I call you? And don''t worry - if you don''t want to answer, I won''t pry!"


    "Just call me Courier Six for now, Yes Man." The Securitron startedughing.


    "Wow, again! That''s really a coincidence! I remember when Benny had me locate a courier, so he could kill him and take the tinum Chip!" I just sighed in my helmet.


    "We already had this conversation, remember? I <strong>am</strong> that courier Benny shot." Yes Man startedughing again, except... it seemed a lot more forced and awkward this time.


    "Hah... hah... heh... now, I know that''s not true, because you still have a head!"

 Chapter 76: Change in Management

    Chapter 76: Change in Management


    [[ERROR::Program-RadioNV::Status:OffAir]]


    [[STRING Not Found!]]


    [[ACTOR RefID:MrNVai-001264c5 Not Found!]]


    [[nv1-sys - Address F00023943 base at F0002248b, DateStamp 1110.2281]]


    [[Beginning dump of physical memory...]]


    [[Physical memory dumpplete.]]


    [[Contact SysAdmin-HOUSE for further assistance]]


    "This is big, huh?" Yes Man said while I was working behind him. "A very big moment!" I locked the massive conduit of wires into the exposed circuitry on his back and stepped back, patting the dust off my hands.


    The two of us were standing in the Penthouse, in front of House''s giant monitor, and all around us were the disabled remains of the Securitrons that I''d cannibalized for parts. I didn''t quite understand the specifics of it, but apparently Yes Man needed a physical hardline connection as well as the tinum Chip if he wanted to take over the 38''s mainframe.


    But even with Yes Man''s direction, I''m more suited to mechanical repairs, not electrical engineering, so the whole setup looked incredibly p-dash. There were dozens of wires all surrounding the giant conduit connecting Yes Man to the console, and over two-dozen other wires spliced into the system.


    "Are you sure this is gonna work?" I asked, looking over everything we''d done.


    "I have no idea!" Yes Man was as cheerful as ever. "But Benny seemed to think it was a good n, and I am physically incapable of saying otherwise!" I sighed heavily, shaking my head.


    "You''re not filling me with an overabundance of confidence here."


    "Oh, I am sorry about that!" Yes Man said, his voice never really losing that tone of excited exuberance. "Here, let me try and make it up to you! I''ll just take that tinum Chip off your hands, and upload myself to the mainframe!" He held out a w in an almost pleading gesture. I reached into one of my pockets with a sigh, pulling out the tinum Chip. I stared at it, twirling it around my fingers...


    "I hope you know what you''re doing." I said, handing over the tinum Chip. I hope I know what I''m doing, too.


    "Thanks!" Yes Man clutched it between two of his w fingers, and rolled over to the console under the massive monitors. "Here goes! Wish me luck!" The robot slipped the chip into one of the slots on the console; all the monitors, which had beenpletely ck, started to boot up. Lines of code appeared on every one of the monitors except the big one in the middle.


    A loud mechanical hum reverberated throughout the whole penthouse. It grew and grew in volume and intensity... and then the lights began to dim and flicker. The console - and the port where I''d connected the conduit to Yes Man''s internals - sparked like mad.


    "Gosh darn it!" Yes Man said seconds before another burst of sparks exploded off his back. The robot wobbled unsteadily on the single wheel... and then copsed, crashing to the floor. Involuntarily, I backed up. There was a series of loud pops from the ceiling, a massive clunk, and the lights seemingly burnt out.


    Silence reigned for several minutes.


    "Yes Man?" I asked, walking slowly to the copsed robot. I rapped the metal casing several times, to see if I could get a response. And, as it happened, I did... just not where I was expecting.


    "Wow!" I heard Yes Man''s voiceing through the speakers. As he spoke, the lights started to slowly turn back on. "Mr. House certainly had quite a set-up here!" Yes Man''s smiling face winked into life on therge main monitor. The other monitors and all the consoles surrounding it also turned on, humming into life with row after row of glowing lights. There was a whirring sound from the main central console, and the tinum Chip ejected itself from the slot. I took it almost without thinking.


    "So, it worked, then?" I asked, looking up at the giant smiling face.


    "It certainly did!" Yes Man sounded pleased... then again, he <em>always</em> sounded pleased. "From here, I can ess Mr. House''s databanks and view telemetry on every Securitron on thework! Let''s see... ording to this status log, all the Securitrons under Caesar''s Fort are on standby, and the Mark II OS upgrade has been installed correctly! They''re all set to go once we boost my transmitting power and bring them online with thework! That''s pretty nifty, isn''t it?"


    "Yeah, that''s great," I sighed again, rubbing my forehead. The helmet may have stopped the bullet that tried to take my head off, but there was still a massive ringing in my skull. Not the <em>worst</em> hangover I''ve ever had, but... "Look, you have fun in there. I know there''s still work to be done, but right now... I''m not interested in any of it. So, you go over House''s data, or... whatever it is you need to do in there. Getfy, make yourself at home, whatever. I''m gonna get some rest."


    "Don''t hurry on my ount!" Yes Man said from the big monitor as I walked up the stairs and back to the elevator. "I''m the one with the flexible schedule!"


    "Right, I''ll talk to youter." I waved over my shoulder, and then scrolled through the functions on my Pip Boy. By the time I stepped into the elevator, I found what I was looking for: ED-E''s radio frequency.


    "Hey, buddy? Can you hear me?" I said into the wristputer. There was a series of happy sounding beeps from the other end. "Excellent! I''m sounding the all clear. I don''t know if you can transmit what I''m saying to everyone else - I mean, I think you can, since you''re able to y back those recordings of Whitley - but let them know it''s safe toe back to the 38." ED-E beeped in the affirmative over the Pip Boy''s radio.


    "Great," I stepped out of the elevator and back into the suite; after barely a single step, I started unbuckling the straps on my armor. "Now... where the fuck''s the ice?"


    "Sheason?" I heard a voice from the hallway, seconds after the elevator dinged. "You in here?" It sounded like Veronica.


    "In here!" I called out from my spot on the couch. One by one, everyone filed into the room - except for ED-E. The robot buzzed into the room through the window I''d left open, beeping happily.


    "Shea, wha-" Cass was the first in the room, and the first to talk, but as soon as she saw me, sprawled out on the couch (holding a bag full of ice to my head in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other) she seemed at a loss for words. She just stood there for a minute, looking at me with a head turned sideways, trying to work out what I was doing - and why all my gear was discarded and scattered all over the room.


    "You alright, man?" Boone said, raising an eyebrow behind his sunsses. I nodded, giving a thumbs up with the hand holding the beer.


    "Oh, yeah, I''m fine! Had a great Friday afternoon, really exciting! Just got... a little..." I grimaced, sitting up and adjusting the ice pack. "You know, shot in the head." I set the beer on the floor, reached into my back pocket, and pulled out the smashed bullet, tossing it Boone''s way.


    "What, again?" Veronica asked incredulously, sitting down on one of the half-dozen easy chairs opposite the couch. I shrugged.


    "What can I say, shit finds my face," I chuckled, grabbing the beer again.


    "Alright Boss, I got a question." Raul said, leaning in behind me on the back of the couch. "If you were gonna go after House, why did you send us all away?"


    "Yeah," Cass found her voice, sitting on the arm of Veronica''s chair. "I mean, c''mon man! Y''know we''ve got yer back, an'' we''re all plenty good inna firefight! Y''should''ve told us what y''were doin, we could''ve helped. Like th'' Silver Rush, remember?" I just shook my head.


    "There was no time, sorry." Everyone except Veronica looked confused. Well... I suppose ED-E didn''t look confused either, but that''s likely because he didn''t have a face. I guess Veronica must not have exined things to them as thoroughly as I''d expected.


    "What do you mean, there was no time?" Arcade asked.


    "Do you know how many security cameras and microphones are in this ce? House has been recording everything we''ve done since arriving here," I said, looking around at everyone; I made a conscious effort not to stare at Cass, but even so... I''m sure my eyes darted in her direction briefly. "The only way my assault on House was even going to have a slim chance of seeding was if I took him by surprise." I took another swig of beer, emptying the bottle. "If I took too long trying to n the thing with all of you, House would''ve caught on. Besides," I shrugged. "There was hardly any room to maneuver upstairs. If you guys came along, we''d have been tripping over each other before even getting out of the elevator."


    "You still haven''t answered my question, Boss," Raul said, finally settling down on the other end of the couch. I shrugged.


    "Just wanted to make sure you guys had a head start, just in case things went sideways." I tried to sound as nonchnt as possible.


    "You mean in case you fucked up," Boone said, leaning up against the wall.


    "Exactly," I leaned back in the sofa, adjusting my grip on the ice pack against the top of my skull. "House wasn''t exactly the forgiving sort. I''m sure he would''ve sent Securitrons to try and kill all of you if I died trying to kill him, just to spite me. I wanted to make sure you guys had plenty of time to get out of town in case that happened. But!" I smiled broadly. "Thankfully, it didn''t have toe to that!"


    "Yer a moron!" Cass blurted out; everyone seemed to turn and look at her. "What? He is! We''ve all got armor-"


    "I don''t," Arcade chimed in, absentmindedly tugging at hisb coat.


    "Me neither," Raul spoke up as well. "I don''t think my old bones could stand the weight."


    "Alright, <strong>most''ve</strong> us have armor," Cass rolled her eyes. "An'' I <strong>know</strong> we all have weapon''s fer dealin'' with robots - ''specially with that pile''ve weapons we swiped from th'' Silver Rush. If you''d let us in on yer harebrained scheme, we could''ve stormed the ce, easy as lyin''!"


    "Well, I, for one, am d you got out in one piece," Arcade said with a smile. "And I''m especially d we won''t have to deal with House anymore. From everything you''ve told us about him, he would''ve only cared just so long as you remained useful. As soon as he had what he wanted, we probably would <em>all</em> have been for the axe. He was a relic that should''ve died with the rest of the Old World."


    "Easy there, pendejo," Raul leaned toward Arcade from his spot on the couch. "Me veoo una reliquia para usted?" Arcade just smiled and shook his head.


    "Absolutely not, Raul. Are you kidding? You''re a 23rd century chap. You''re just as much a part of this world as any one of us. Por no har, eres tan guapo!" After an extended silence where the two of them stared at one another, and nobody - not even ED-E - made any noise, Raul and Arcade both startedughing. I, on the other hand, just had to shake my head.


    "I really gotta learn Spanish one of these days..." I sighed.


    Ding.


    My mind started racing in the split second between hearing the sound and my reaction. That was <em>definitely</em> the elevator, but everyone was here - Cass, Veronica, Boone, Arcade, Raul, even ED-E. So... who else was arriving? Was it another Securitron? One that was off thework, and unaffected by House''s death? I couldn''t take the chance.


    In a sh, I tossed the ice pack behind me, practically leapt up, and grabbed the Holorifle leaning against the couch as I ran for the door. I pressed my shoulder into the doorframe, using it for cover, and aimed the holorifle squarely at the opening elevator doors. Sure enough, a Securitron rolled out... but it wasn''t the kind of Securitron I was expecting.


    "Hi there!" Yes Man said, waving one of his w arms as he rolled into the suite. "Nice to see you again! It''s so good to see you up and on your feet!" Honestly, I was surprised. I couldn''t help but lower the rifle and step out of cover to meet him.


    "Yes Man?" I asked, almost unnecessarily. "But I thought... aren''t you supposed to be up in the mainframe?" Behind me, I could hear everyone getting up to see what was going on.


    "Oh, but I am, of course!" The Securitron seemedpletely unperturbed that I''d been pointing a gun at him seconds ago. "Now that my neuroputational matrix has been uploaded into Mr. House''s databanks, I can take direct tactical control of any Securitron on thework, remember? I just came down to let you know that I''ve finished going over all of Mr. House''s files!"


    "That was fast," I said, looking at the clock on my Pip Boy. "Did you find anything useful?"


    "Oh boy, did I ever! All of Mr. House''s ns and projections for the next 100 years, in fact! Did you know he had schematics for several different types of spacecraft in hisputer system?"


    "Yeah, I think he mentioned something about that..." I said, trying to remember one of my conversations with House. I did <em>vaguely</em> recall him mentioning something about building rockets to leave Earth. It all seemed so long ago, even now...


    "Spacecraft?" Cass asked as she stuck her head out the door. "Th'' fuck? What d''ya mean? Like, those rockets th'' ghouls used at Repconn?"


    "Oh, wow!" Yes Man said, turning to Cass. "New people! Hi! How are you today?" Cass tipped her hat back, looking at the Securitron curiously, and then to me, her expression practically saying ''what the fuck is going on?'' without actually saying anything. When he didn''t get a response, Yes Man spoke up again. "I''m not sure about any ghouls, but I do know that the schematicse from a number of sources - mostly subsidiaries of RobCo industries, like Repconn Aerospace!"


    "Who''s this?" Boone asked. I nced over my shoulder at him; I guess Veronica must not have exined everything as well as I''d thought.


    "Hi!" Yes Man waved again. "Allow me to introduce myself! I''m a PDQ-88b Securitron, but you can call me Yes Man!" A sh of dj vu shed in my head. If this kept up, he''d probably rey everything he told me in the workshop behind Benny''s suite weeks ago, so I decided to just cut him off while I still could.


    "Look, I''m sure this is all fascinating," I said, shouldering the Holorifle. "But is there a reason you''re down here? I thought I told you I didn''t want to deal with any business until tomorrow."


    "Oh, I''m sorry!" The robot said, programmed sincerity oozing out his speakers. "I just wanted to let you know that whenever <em>you''re</em> ready to decide how you feel about the various tribes surrounding Vegas, <em>I''ll</em> be ready! That''s what Mr. House was having you do - at least, ording to the status logs I''ve read! So I''m just working off that!"


    "How I <em>feel</em> about them?" I asked; that certainly didn''t seem like what House was having me do. "What, are you talking about figuring out if they''ll support an independent Vegas?"


    "Oh, no, I didn''t mean that!" Yes Man''s screen flickered slightly. "Who needs their support? The Securitrons will be all the support you need! What I meant is, you should get to know the different tribes and decide which ones you like and which you don''t! You know - shape the future of Vegas! Choose your neighbors! House had already made up his mind about the various tribes, but you''re the one in charge now! It''s whatever you want to do!"


    "Yes, you''re right. I <strong>am</strong> in charge now." I said with as much emphasis as my tired frame could muster. "And right now, I want you to leave. We can talk business tomorrow until my ears bleed - though, I''d take it as a kindness if it didn''te to that."


    "Absolutely! I just wanted to let you know about your options!" Yes Man said as he rolled backward, pressing the elevator call button. "This is going to be great! I''m going to help you aplish so much, whether I want to or not!" And with that, the robot rolled back into the open elevator.


    "So," Veronica said as she grabbed a Nuka C from the fridge a few minutester. "That was Yes Man, huh? He wasn''t exactly what I was expecting." She handed me a beer.


    "And what, pray tell, were you expecting with a name like Yes Man?" I cracked open the beer and leaned against the countertop. Veronica opened her mouth like she was about to speak... and then quickly shut it again, shrugging


    "Good point," she said with a smile, knocking back the soda. "So... what''s next for the man in charge?"


    "Oh, don''t start with that," I sighed. "I just know Cass is gonna needle me about that until the end of time, I don''t need it from you as well."


    "Alright, fair enough," Veronica shook her head. "Seriously though. What have you got nned?"


    "Thought I might make good on my promise, for a start." Veronica looked confused.


    "What promise?"


    "The other day," I motioned to her with my beer. "When we were at Nellis, remember? You were talking about the Brotherhood, how you thought you needed to go home? Well... how about tomorrow? My schedule is plenty free, now I''m not under House''s thumb anymore."


    "Is that the <em>only</em> reason you want to visit the Brotherhood?" Veronica asked, staring at her bottle of soda. "Because you made a promise?" She stared at me from under her hood for a long time while I drank my beer, trying to figure out the best way to answer.


    "No," I said eventually. "You''re right, that''s not the only reason." I took onest drink, and set the beer bottle aside. "Before we go any further, I want to ask you a question."


    "Alright, shoot."


    "How do <em>you</em> think the Brotherhood is going to react to an army of robots defending Vegas?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. Veronica''s silence was really all the answer I needed. "Exactly. Much as I didn''t like him or his methods, House was right about one thing - and I think you can agree. I don''t think the Brotherhood is going to be too keen on that army of Securitrons. Only difference is, diplomacy wasn''t even a potential option for House. He wasn''t even willing to <em>talk</em> to them. But I am."


    "I..." Veronica seemed very nervous; she was fiddling with the mostly empty soda bottle. "I''m not... I don''t know. I just..."


    "I''m not stupid, Veronica. I''m gonna have to talk to them eventually, with or without you. You know that. They may be in hiding, but they''re still too big a yer here in the Mojave to just up and ignore them. I mean, hell... I offed House because I don''t want that first conversation to happen down the barrel of a gun..." Well... <em>one</em> of the reasons. "I just think, if you''re the one introducing me, things will go a lot smoother."


    "And... if things don''t go smooth?" Veronica asked softly. "What happens if you aren''t able to pull off the same thing you did with the Boomers?"


    "Hey, we had to dodge <em>artillery</em> fire just to get into Nellis, and I was able to convince them to y ball," I said with a smirk. "Compared to that, anything else is gonna be a walk in the park." Veronica just sighed and shook her head.


    "Spoken like a man who''s never had to fight someone in Powered Armor..." She muttered. Veronica knocked back thest of the soda and tossed the empty bottle into the sink. "All right. You made your case." She chuckled and rubbed her temple. "You know, it''s funny. I honestly thought you were going to take much longer, getting around to driving me back home."


    "Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised. Veronica nodded.


    "Yeah. I was kind of..." Veronica paused, grimacing and tilting her head to the side. "...counting on it, actually. You know. So I could <em>mentally prepare </em>for the trip."


    "Mentally prepare?" I asked. "What do you mean? Do I even <em>want</em> to know?" Veronica shrugged.


    "There''s a reason I haven''t been back to the Hidden Valley bunkerplex in a while. As much as I love them, and as much as I want to make sure they stay safe, they''re still my family... And it''s a very rare family <em>indeed</em> that''s able to get along with one another."


    "Well, hell, we''re not going <strong>now</strong>," I said. "If tomorrow is too soon, and you really do need time to prepare, we -" Veronica held up her hand, shaking her head.


    "No, no, it''s fine. It''s... fine. I just..." Veronica sighed again. "This has been a weird couple of weeks, you know?" I smiled at that, chuckling to myself.


    "Sister, you don''t know the <em>half</em> of it. I know <em>exactly </em>what that feels like. Hell, for a while there I kept asking myself ''when the fuck did my life get so weird?'' But the more I think about it, I know <strong>exactly</strong> when my life got so weird." Veronica raised an eyebrow.


    "And when was that?" She asked. I reached into my back pocket, and pulled out the tinum Chip.


    "When I got shot in the head - the first time - because of this fuckin'' weirdness ma." I smirked, rolling the Chip around my fingers a few times before putting it away. "Getting shot in the head is turning into a hobby of mine. I don''t like it."


    "So, that seriously happened?" Veronica asked. "You <em>seriously</em> got shot in the head <em>again</em>?" I shook my head. "How are you not <strong>dead</strong>?" I shrugged.


    "Well, I <em>was</em> wearing a helmet this time. Might have something to do with it..."


    A couple hourster, I was up in the Lucky 38''s revolving restaurant, just below House''s penthouse. Wait, no. It wasn''t House''s anymore. It was <em>mine</em>. I''d been so busy earlier that I suppose the situation hadn''t really sunk in until now: with House out of the way and Yes Man installed in the Lucky 38''s mainframe... that meant this whole casino was mine.


    As nice as the view from the presidential suite''s balcony was, this was better - and I didn''t even have to move to change the scenery, the floor rotated on it''s own. I was sitting in one of the booths, my feet propped up on the table, and my handsced behind my head as I watched the scenery roll below me. The sun was hanging low on the horizon, but wasn''t going to sinkpletely for another half hour or so. For the moment, it was merely turning the sky into a dazzling mixture of brilliant hues, the orange and purple lights reflecting off the scattered clouds in the sky.


    This felt like the <em>perfect</em> ce to rx... and to be alone with my thoughts. Because that''s what I really needed right now: some time alone to collect myself.


    "Was wonderin'' where you''d snuck off too."


    Of course.


    I turned to the sound and saw Cass looking over at me. Her hat was nowhere to be found, and her hair was untied, hanging loose around her smiling face. She was behind the bar, almost like she was ready to tend it; her elbows were resting against the countertop, her fingers wereced together, and her chin was resting on her fingers.


    "Hey, Cass," I said, getting up from my seat and making my way toward her. "You looking for a drink?" I asked as I sat down on one of the stools across the bar from her. She chuckled, reached beneath the counter, and set down a pair of sses next to a bottle of Irish whiskey so old, thebel had faded awaypletely.


    "You know me, I''m always lookin'' fer a drink," She smirked, pouring the sses for us both. "What ''bout you? You lookin'' t''wet yer whistle too?"


    "Actually, no," I said, taking hold of one of the sses. "I came up here for some peace and quiet. Get some time alone, just me and my thoughts, you know?"


    "Oh, go- sorry." Cass blushed (or had she already had something to drink?) and looked rather sheepish. She downed her entire ss of whiskey in one gulp and poured herself another. "Y''know, I can leave -" I held up a hand and shook my head.


    "Don''t worry about it, you''re fine. It''s just been... bit of a day. You know?" Cass nodded.


    "Yeah, I''ll bet. One helluva Friday." She knocked back another gulp - much more reserved this time. "So, how''d the gatlingser work out for ya?" I started to take a drink, but stopped midway, looking at Cass with a furrowed brow.


    "How''d you know I used the 9700?" I asked. Cass smiled wide.


    "Cuz, I saw it in themon room, discarded on th'' pool table. Looked pretty spent, too," She finished off her ss, but didn''t pour herself another.


    "Shit, Ipletely forgot I''d left it there," I said honestly. I''d just dumped all my armor, weapons and ammo the first chance I''d gotten, not really caring where I left them. "I should probably move itter, I don''t want it to scratch the cloth."


    "Yeah, good pool table like that''s hard te by. It work, though?" I shrugged, sipping my ss of whiskey, trying to make the burnst as long as possible.


    "Ehh... s''alright. Seemed more powerful than a standard gatlingser, but the charge on it is pitiful. I probably only got 90 shots out of it, at most. Maybe it had something to do with the beams being green or something, I dunno. Whatever the case, it ripped through the Securitrons like they were made out of tinfoil." Cass shrugged, leaning further against the bar.


    "Sounds like t''worked well ''nuff. Yer still here." She held her ss aloft, in front of my face; I got the message, and toasted her ss with my own. "I still say yer a moron fer sendin'' us all away. I bet we could''ve helped keep y''from gettin'' shot in th'' head again," As if to illustrate her point, Cass poked me hard, pressing her finger deep into the middle of my forehead. I just sighed, staring into my nearly empty ss.


    "Cass, you know why I sent you away, don''t you?" I looked up at her, making sure to look her straight in the eyes. "The penthouse was way too narrow and enclosed. There was hardly any room for me to maneuver up there, much less half-a-dozen armed and armored people. I just... Somebody would''ve gotten hurt."


    "Well, you got hurt your own self. Don''t think I haven''t noticed thatser burn on yer leg," She pointed down, smirking at me all the while. Damn, I was rather hoping she <em>had</em> missed that.


    "One of <em>you guys</em> could''ve gotten hurt, smartass," I sighed, and shook my head, downing thest of my drink. "You''re my friends... there''s absolutely no sense taking any unnecessary risks. And I''m certainly not going to ask any of you to do anything I wouldn''t do myself."


    "Well, that''s very noble''ve you, Shea," Cass said. "S''also really <em>really</em> stupid."


    "Yeah, well..." I reached for the bottle. "I tend to do stupid things when I put..." The people I love, I didn''t say. "...the people I care about in danger." Comprehension finally dawned on Cass'' face. She cleared her throat, and quickly tried to change the subject.


    "So... uh... what..." Cass coughed again. "What exactly were you thinkin'' about? You know, b''fore I came up here with the hooch?"


    "Stuff... still trying to chew over the events of today in my head. Thinking about the future. Like... what we can do with the 38, now House is gone." Cass raised an eyebrow.


    "What we can do with th'' 38?" She repeated. "What''re you talkin'' ''bout?"


    "Well... look around," I said, motioning with my hands to our surroundings. "This ce still has a casino. The restaurant still revolves, and it''s still mostly stocked. It still has rooms. Who knows what else is downstairs - I''m sure I''ll find out, next time I talk to Yes Man. Hell, there''s even robotic housekeeping, if the bathrooms are any indication."


    "What''re you gettin'' at, man?" Cass asked, sounding genuinely curious.


    "I think... with a bit of work, we could re-open the Lucky 38 for business. Make it an actual casino again, make it like it was before the bombs - no, wait:" I snapped my fingers. "<strong>Better</strong>. Definitely not soon, and probably not for a couple months... I mean, there''s other things to worry about in the <em>immediate</em> future."


    "Like Hoover Dam?" Cass asked,pletely deadpan. I nodded.


    "Exactly. But once all that is sorted..." I smirked, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. "What do you say? Think we can do it?"


    "Honestly? I think ye''vepletely lost yer marbles." Cass grabbed me by the hands with both of hers and shed me the biggest, widest grin I''ve ever seen. "Count me in."

 Chapter 77: Steel

    Chapter 77: Steel


    "So, where exactly is Hidden Valley, anyway?" I asked Veronica as the two of us sat in my car. "I mean, aside from hidden, obviously." We were rolling past Freeside''s east gate, but I still didn''t quite know exactly where I was going.


    "The bunkerplex is in the ck Mountain foothills," She said, staring out the window. "Couple miles directly east of Goodspings. I think it''s maybe... ten miles away? I''m not quite sure on the exact distance."


    "Wait, the ck Mountain foothills... isn''t that going to take us perilously close to Sloan?" I asked. "Sloan and Quarry Junction are still infested with deathws, far as I know."


    "Yeah, but we should be fine, just so long as we stay away from that stretch of the I-15. Just take that same route we took, like we''re going up to ck Mountain again, and I''ll give you directions from there."


    "Alright, alright. But if we get eaten, I''m ming you," I said with a chuckle. Veronica shook her head and smiled.


    "I''ll be sure to keep that in mind." Veronica leaned back, settling into her seat. "So, here''s a question. Why''d you tell ED-E to stay behind?" I grimaced internally. Damn, I thought it would''ve been longer before she noticed. Ah well.


    "That was your own rule, wasn''t it?" I said, trying to stall for time. "I thought it was just supposed to be the two of us going to Hidden Valley. Any more, and they''d get suspicious. Isn''t that what you told me?"


    "Any more <em>people</em> is what I actually said." Veronica replied, her voice taking on a slightly annoyed quality.


    "It''s not like we could''ve convinced anyone else toe anyway," I smirked. "Before we left, I think Boone said he was going Fiend hunting, and I''m sure the others had some errands to run in Freeside."


    "Seriously," Veronica sounded annoyed. "Why''d you ask him to stay behind?"


    "Because," I cleared my throat. "I want to talk to Lorenzo first. Find out <em>exactly</em> what he wants from ED-E before I just take my friend right to him." Veronica looked confused for half a second.


    "Lor- <em>ohhh</em>, right." Veronica started to slowly nod. "I''d almost forgotten that he wanted to get a look at ED-E."


    "Well, I haven''t." My eyes never left the road as I spoke. "And until I get a chance to talk to him, there''s no way I''m going to risk my friend getting snatched."


    "What about that Followers scientist?" Veronica asked. "Uh... what was her name again?"


    "April. April Martimer. Yeah, I haven''t forgotten about her either. Got the coordinates for her outpost from Arcade this morning, before we left," I held up my Pip Boy. "If we have time, I''m going to talk to them both before the day is out."


    "So, what is this ce anyway?" I asked as I pulled the car to a stop just outside arge fence. "I mean the name - Hidden Valley... it''s not really all that descriptive." There were scattered signs all around, and they reminded me a bit of the signs just outside Boomer territory; they read things like "No photography," "Trespassers will be SHOT" and my personal favorite was the one right next to the gate that said "WARNING: US Military facility" followed by a mass of fine print text. Veronica got out of my car, utched the gate, and then pushed it open.


    "It''s a bunkerplex, built by the US military before the war," Veronica said as soon as she slid back into her seat and we set off again. "It was designed to be a self-sustainableplex for high ranking members of the military and the government, but the project was abandoned long before the bombs dropped."


    "Sounds a bit like the Vaults," I said; the way she was pointing, it seemed like she wanted us close to the western edge of the fence. "Why''d they abandon it?" Veronica shrugged.


    "Don''t really know. None of theputer systems inside say why the project was cancelled." The car rested a hill, and a bunker entrance came into view directly in front of us. "There, that''s the entrance." When I got a good look, I couldn''t help but be a little skeptical.


    "Seriously?" the walls of the bunker were covered in tons of graffiti, and most of it was <em>very</em> anti-establishment. "I didn''t think the Brotherhood were such fans of peace and love." There was some standard graffiti to be sure, like "Billy rules!" (and "YOU SUCK!" written directly underneath), but I saw other things like peace signs (and the word written several times as well), "Give peace a chance," "Ban the bomb," and a picture of a warhead inside a no symbol.


    "It''s thest ce anyone would think to look, right?" Veronica said with a smirk.


    "Good point," I got out of the car - and immediately was hit in the face with the cloud of dust my car had kicked up. "Augh! Oh, g- wha- pffth!" The way it stung my face, and it... when it got in my mouth, it immediately made me gag. Whatever this was, it wasn''t dirt.


    "Oh, gosh! I''m sorry! I forgot to mention - try not to eat any of the dust around the bunkerplex!" I couldn''t say anything. I was too busy trying to scrape the foul taste off my tongue and get this crap out of my face. "The bunkerplex has a DERVISH camouge system - all the soil has beenced with aluminum silicates and metallized ss fibers."


    "Bleaugh! Wh- <em>What?</em> Why?" I finally got thest of it off my face. Thankfully, the dust had settled.


    "When dispersed by the bunkers fans, it''ll nket the valley in a cloud of chaff. It''s supposed to make the bunker impossible to target by radar guided missiles, but from the ground it looks like the valley is suffering from a massive, concentrated sandstorm."


    "Okay," I said, coughing a few times; maybe it wasn''t all out. "Got it. Don''te here at night."


    "At least, not without a mask that has an air filter," Veronica said, smiling as she walked past me. "That''s what I always used whenever I had to leave at night. Now, remember - until I get done with the introductions, let me do the talking, alright?" I nodded, watching as she opened the massive door that led into theplex.


    "Hey, this is <em>your</em> show, remember. Despite everything else, the main reason we''re here is because you wanted toe back. I''ll behave myself." Veronica smiled... but it was kind of a half-hearted smile, mixed with a bit of worry starting to seep through. I closed the door behind us, and we descended the stairs leading deeper into theplex.


    After a lengthy descent, we were deposited in arge room with walls, floors, and ceiling made out of what looked like concrete. There was hardly any clutter at all, and the only thing I could see (aside from a few scattered lights) was a metal door directly opposite the stairs, and a small inte.


    "This is... emptier than I expected," I said, looking around. Veronica just rolled her eyes.


    "We''re not <em>actually</em> in the bunker yet. Now hold on, I''ve got this." She cleared her throat, and pressed the button on the inte. "I''d like arge Atomic Shake and a double Brahmin Burger. And easy on the agave sauce this time."


    "Uh..." I wasn''t really sure what she was getting at. And then the speaker on the wall crackled to life.


    "We gave you a password, Veronica," The gruff voice sounded off from the inte. "It''s for your safety." Veronica shook her head.


    "I know where you live, Ramos! Open up." The voice on the other end of the inte sighed heavily.


    "Oh, for Pete''s sake. Opening up." The door popped open with a hiss, and slid into the floor. "Wee back, Veronica."


    "Told you I got this." She turned and smiled at me, waving me inside. I stayed still, motioning for her to go on ahead instead.


    "After you. This is your house, after all."


    After a short elevator ride, the two of us were at <em>another</em> set of stairs. Unlike the ones at the entrance to the bunker, everything looked like it was made out of dark green metal rather than concrete. It was a pretty tight fit, too... or maybe that was just the curved shape of the hallway giving the space an unpleasantly cramped feel. Apart from the steps themselves, there didn''t appear to be any right angles down here: all the corners were rounded off.


    "So, how deep does this ce go, anyway?" I asked, as I walked behind her down the stairs.


    "Deep enough to withstand a direct hit from a 100 kiloton nuclear warhead." Veronica rattled off, looking at me over her shoulder. The next thing I knew, the stairs ended and I was face to face with a juggernaut of immense stature and proportions.


    As far as I know, there are very few people around in the wastnd nowadays who''ve seen someone wearing a full set of powered armor and lived to tell about it. The behemoth standing in front of me stood almost as tall as a super mutant, and every inch of it was covered in metal tes that curved around his body, creating an exaggerated over-muscled male physique. Every one of the tes had to be at least an inch thick. I remember when Veronica told me someone in powered armor could toss my car, and looking at the size of the limbs on this thing... fuck me, I could believe it. The only thing I didn''t get was the purpose of the shoulders: they were huge, red pieces of curved metal, and one of them had a symbol of the Brotherhood of Steel painted in light blue. The helmet didn''t really resemble a face, but that wasn''t really surprising... what surprised me was that it still looked <em>angry</em>. There was an obvious rebreather on the front, with hoses and tubesing off the sides, and snaking their way to the back. Above it was a single thin strip of darkened, reflective ss instead of the usual two viewports that you''d expect on apletely enclosed helmet.


    As if all that wasn''t enough, this hulking monster was carrying an M72 Gauss Rifle longer than my torso, with pulsing blue lights shing on all of the elerator coils. One shot from that would blow me in half. All in all, a very intimidating sight - and not even Veronica calmly walking up to it, smiling away, could distract me from how terrifying it seemed up close.


    "Hey, Ramos!" She pointed at the powered armor monster with both hands. "Lookin'' sharp, as usual." The monster shook its head, and ced the Gauss Rifle on its back; there was a metal clunk, and a small electrical fizzling sound as it stayed in ce. The behemoth reached up and utched the helmet, pulling it off with a hiss of disced gas.


    "Hey yourself, kiddo," the man - and it was now obviously a man - said as he took his helmet off. He had dark hair that was both closely cropped and messy at the same time, and he didn''t have a beard so much as heavy stubble. His head lookedically smallpared to the rest of him, now his helmet was off - but I didn''t dareugh, especially now that he was advancing on me with a scowling, stern expression on his face.


    "Listen up, and listen close," he said as he loomed over me. "I''m in charge of security around here. I can''t say I''m too happy having an outsider waltzing around..." He folded his arms across his chest with an audible metal clunk... and his expression softened. "However, since you came in with Veronica... I suppose I''m inclined to cut you a <em>little</em> ck."


    "Uh. Thanks?" I said, looking up.


    "Just behave yourself, outsider, and we won''t have any problems."


    "Oh, ease up Ramos," Veronica rolled her eyes and batted softly at one of Ramos'' arms. "I wouldn''t have brought him here if he was going to cause trouble. He''s fine, you worry too much." Ramos looked down at Veronica with a raised eyebrow, and shook his head.


    "It''s my job to worry, Veronica. You should know that by now." He smiled down at her... but his smile faded when he looked back at me. "As for you? The Elder is going to want to talk to you, outsider."


    "Talk to <em>me</em>?" I asked. Ramos nodded.


    "Elder McNamara is on the lowest level. Just take a right once you get down there. And I suggest you don''t keep him waiting."


    "Don''t worry, Ramos, we''re gonna head there straight off," Veronica grabbed me by the shoulder, and led me out of the room - and down yet <em>another</em> set of stairs.


    "So, he was... friendly," I muttered as soon as we got out of earshot. Veronica chuckled.


    "Ahh, don''t mind Ramos. He just takes his job seriously, that''s all," She patted me on the shoulder several times. "Once you get to know him, he''s really a giant softy. Like a big teddy bear!"


    "Yeah, I''ll just bet..." I said under my breath. "So, what kind of power armor was he wearing?" I asked. "Didn''t you say there were different kinds?" Veronica nodded.


    "Yeah. He was wearing T-51b, one of the more advanced models. Generally, only high ranking pdins like Ramos are allowed ess. Most lower ranking pdins wear T-45d armor; it''s a bit smaller, has a more blocky, rougher appearance, and it''s much moremon... err,paratively speaking."


    The bunker had a strange kind of duality about it. On the one hand, the walls felt really close... the sense of ustrophobia was practically palpable. But on the other hand, it also felt <em>terrifyingly</em> empty. There were a few people around, sure - some were wearing powered armor, others wearing more form-fitting armor covered in metal, wires, and Ker (It looked simr to what Veronica wore under her brown robes; she''d called it recon armor when I asked), and a few of the people walking around were wearing red robes with strange metal trim. But those people around the bunker - the upper levels, at least - were few and far between.


    "Is it just me," I said, looking around. "Or are people avoiding us?" Veronica nodded slowly, shrugging.


    "They''re just not used to seeing anyone... <em>new </em>down here." I nced down a corridor as the two of us kept walking; a pair of lightly armored Brotherhood members were staring at us, talking to each other in hushed whispers.


    "Don''t tell me they think I''m a threat?" I asked, almost joking. I looked down at my jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket, and held both arms open wide. "I mean, c''mon. Look at me!" Veronica rolled her eyes.


    "You have to remember: you''re not Brotherhood. <em>Anyone</em> who isn''t Brotherhood is a potential threat." She turned away and added softly: "I suppose that''s how we got in this situation, hiding in a bunker..." As she said that, we passed by a bulkhead, on which was hung arge grey-backed g with the sword-gears-wings logo of the Brotherhood painted in gold... and nked by tworgeser turrets that stood as high as my chest.


    "Oh yeah, I <em>definitely</em> see how I''m a threat here..."


    The deeper we went, the more crowded things became. It became much harder for people to avoid us... and that was when I realized Veronica knew <em>everyone</em>. There must have been several hundred personnel down here, and everyone who passed close enough got a personal, by-name greeting,plete with a smile and a wave.


    "Heya Torres! How''s the ol'' cage treating you?" Veronica said, waving to a woman with short brown hair, wearing recon armor, and carrying several metal crates. Torres shrugged.


    "Can''tin," she said, adjusting her grip on the crates. "Not like there''s anywhere else to go, right?" She smiled at Veronica... and then scowled at me. "Watch yourself, outsider," She said, her eyes shooting daggers at me. "You can bet that we''re watching <em>you</em>." She turned on her heel, and walked down the hall away from us.


    "Don''t mind Knight Torres," Veronica said to me under her breath, pointing after her. "She''s the Head Quartermaster. Like Ramos, it''s her job to be paranoid." Another woman - wearing one of those red robes and carrying a clipboard - passed by us, and Veronica greeted her as well. "How''re you doing, Schuler?" The woman smiled and nodded.


    "I''m doing quite well. Thank you for asking, Veronica." She didn''t shoot me a dirty look; instead, she just ignored me as if I wasn''t there.


    "Linda Schuler," Veronica said as the two of us kept going. "Technically she''s the Chief Medical Officer for the Chapter, but everyone around knows she''s Head Scribe in all but name." We rounded a corner, and I saw a balding man wearing simr red robes as Schuler walking directly at us; he waspletely absorbed in a book, and not really looking where he was going. Veronica spoke up to get his attention: "Hey, Ibsen!"


    "Hmm?" He perked his head up, pushing his small rounded sses up his nose, not even trying to hide his annoyance at being interrupted. "Oh, it''s you. Hello, Veronica." He went back to reading his book and walking away; she patted him on the shoulder as he passed.


    "You''re looking really tired, man. Don''t work yourself too hard!" Ibsen muttered something iprehensible and waved her off as he continued down the hallway.


    "Ibsen''s a nice guy, he just..." Veronica grimaced and shrugged. "Sometimes he gets way too involved in his research, and forgets that other people are human beings." When we finally got close to the elevator that led to the lowest level, I just couldn''t keep quiet any longer.


    "So, are you friends with everybody down here?" Veronica shrugged, pressing the button to call the elevator.


    "They''re my family. I grew up with everyone here, so of course I''m going to know their names. Granted, I wouldn''t say I''m <em>friends</em> with everyone..." Before the elevator arrived, a female voice sounded off behind us. It made Veronica perk her head up in a mixture of surprise and rm.


    "Well, well, well..." The voice was almost singsong; the two of us turned to face the source. A woman walked toward us with short, bleach-blonde hair in a bob cut, and wearing a set of recon armor. I wasn''t quite sure, but... was she wearing eyeliner and lipstick? "Look what the bark scorpions dragged in. Haven''t seen you in a while, Santangelo. Not since thest time you made a fool of yourself in front of the Elder."


    "Watkins..." Veronica''s whole body tensed up, hissing the name through her teeth. "You''re looking well, wearing that <strong>gallon</strong> of makeup. I can hardly notice thatzy eye of yours, anymore." The blonde smiled, but the look in her eyes was pure hatred.


    "You''re still hiding that hair of yours with your hood, I see," As she spoke, I saw Veronica reflexively reach for her hood. "When are you going to just give up, and take a hacksaw to that long and tangled rats-nest?" Watkins then turned to look at me. "And you''ve picked up a stray! Didn''t your parents ever tell you not to bring wild animals home?" She snapped her fingers. "Oh, that''s <em>right</em>... I <strong>forgot</strong>."


    "Hey," I said, advancing on the blonde, stepping between her and Veronica. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Shut up, leave her alone!" She looked me up and down with an expression of utter contempt and disgust - and then held a hand to her ear.


    "What was that? I''m sorry, I don''t understand <em>wild dog</em>." She turned back to Veronica. "You have fun, talking with the Elder. I''m <em>sure </em>he''ll listen to you <strong>this</strong> time. I mean, it''s not like you''ve tried half a dozen times before - oh, wait!" And with that, she turned on her heel with a snideugh and walked off... just as the elevator door behind us opened.


    "The fuck was that about?" I asked as the two of us stepped inside. Veronica was still obviously fuming.


    "Melissa Watkins..." Both her hands were balled into fists. "Spoiled rotten bitch, thinks she can get away with anything, just because she''s fucking Head Scribe Taggart..." She shook both her fists and let out an "ARGH!" through gritted teeth. "...bitch. "


    "Yeah, no, I got that," I said. "But... hair? What was she talking about? I don''t get it." I vaguely recalled her saying something about her hair a while back, but I couldn''t remember if she gave a reason for wearing the hood. I <em>do</em> remember the one time I saw her long dark hair that fell down to the middle of her back... a vivid image popped into my head of Veronica and Cass standing at the threshold of her half-open door, locking lips. Veronica took a hand, gently caressing the side of Cass'' face, running the tips of her fingers through red hair...


    Ahem. Sorry, I went somewhere else for a moment. C''mon, focus.


    "It''s because my hair is..." Veronica looked at me, absentmindedly tugging at the edges of her hood again. "...long." There was an extended, heavy pause that hung in the air, as I tried to figure out what the problem was.


    "Uh..." The elevator doors slid open. Veronica quickly walked forward, leading me into the narrow hallway to the right. "You lost me. What''s wrong with long hair?" She sighed when I said that, stopping in her tracks to face me.


    "Have you seen the women around here? The men? They all have hair that''s cut short: military hair. And, at the end of the day, the Brotherhood is and always will be a <em>military</em> organization at its heart. If you are <em>different</em>, you are <em>wrong</em>." She sighed again. "I''ve tried cutting it before, but it grows so fast, it''s back within a week... That''s one of the reasons..." She trailed off, staring at the floor. I patted her on the shoulder.


    "Hey, c''mon, don''t sweat it. She looks like she''s, what, 14? You shouldn''t let a stupid kid like that ruffle you so bad." Veronica started to slowly nod... and then looked up at me, her face back to her normal mask.


    Smiling sad.


    "I know. Don''t worry about me, I''m just," Veronica closed her eyes, drew in a sharp breath through her nose, and let out a heavy sigh. "It''s been a while since I''ve had to deal with her. Since I''ve had to deal with <em>any</em> of this..." She started to walk away, down the hall to the Elder''s office.


    "You know," I said; she stopped in her tracks and turned to look at me. "We can still go back. We can do this another day, we don''t have to do this now." She smiled softly.


    "That''s nice of you to say. But we''vee this far." She turned the corner. "And I have to try... onest time, at least."


    Elder McNamara''s office didn''t really <em>feel</em> like an office, so much as a missile silo with a desk in the center instead of a rocket. The room was a massive cylinder with a domed ceiling, and in the center was a curved metal desk sitting on a metal tform, surrounded by four thick beams that ran from beneath the metal grates of the floor to the ceiling. Two Brotherhood members - pdins, presumably - stood guard on either side of the door in full powered armor. On the right side of the room, I could see a massive backlit topographical map, showing all the Mojave wastnd in a 20 mile radius of the bunker. On the wall directly behind the Elder was a physical representation of the Brotherhood symbol - three massive gears, and a giant sword made out of scrap metal riveted to the wall - and lit from above.


    "Hello, Veronica," The silvery-haired, blue robed Elder spoke from his seat in the center of the room as soon as Veronica got close. "How goes your mission?" The acoustics of the room carried his voice so that even from my spot standing close to the door, I could clearly hear what was being said without effort.


    "We''ll know in a second," Veronica cleared her throat, finally reaching the top step. "I wanted to talk to you." McNamara sighed and shook his head. Clearly, he knew what she was going to say.


    "Veronica, please. Tell me this isn''t about-"


    "Yes, goddamn it! It is!" She practically yelled, cutting him off. Her voice echoed off every surface. "But you''re going to hear me out this time."


    "We''ve been through this," he said. I''m pretty sure he tried to make his voice sound firm, but all it ended up doing was making him sound tired. Veronica shook her head, leaning on McNamara''s desk.


    "The things I''ve seen now. Other groups seeding where we have failed! It''s not toote for us to change!"


    "We''ve ousted the end of the world," he replied simply. "We will oust these upstarts."


    "Oust them, how?" Veronica''s voice started bing more agitated, amplified by the rooms acoustics. "Waiting in a hole for everyone else to die!"


    "If we must." Even from this distance, I could see in his eyes - this guy wasn''t going to back down. Veronica sighed.


    "This is a dead end for us. Can''t you see?" Veronica''s voice was pleading now, but the Elder''s expression didn''t change.


    "No. I see no evidence of that. Nor do I see anyone out there with a solution to our problems." Finally, Veronica threw her hands up in the air and hung her head.


    "How could you? You''re too scared to look!" She turned and walked down the stairs, shaking her head. "Let''s go. We''re wasting our time." Before I knew it, she''d already passed me and was on her way out.


    "Wh- Veronica?" I caught up with her quickly. Mostly because she''d stopped at the bend in the hallway. She had her arms folded across her chest, shaking her head, and scowling all the while.


    "I''d p him around, but he stood at my parents'' wedding. Plus, he used to make excuses to get me out of my punishment when I slept through Taggart''s lectures. Figure I owe him for that..." Veronica sighed, copsing back against the wall. "He means well, but... he just... I can''t get him to see what I see."


    "So what now?" I asked. I was starting to get worried; if he was as obstinate as he appeared, then maybe a diplomatic solution really <em>was</em> off the table...


    "I''m not giving up," Veronica said as she got up off the wall. "He wants evidence, but he''ll never go looking for it." She cast a nce in the Elder''s direction, then looked back at me. "He''s scared that I''m right. He''ll never listen unless I hold the proof right in front of his face."


    "You think he''ll listen at all?" I asked. For the first time, real doubt crept into Veronica''s features... but then it was quickly washed away.


    "He''s a stubborn old man. I think that''s a prerequisite to being Chapter Elder. But when ites right down to it... he''s got our best interests at heart. If he sees some indisputable sign we''re on the wrong course, he won''t ignore it."


    "Hmm..." I cast a nce over my shoulder, back at McNamara. "I''m gonna talk to him. Ramos said he wanted to speak with me anyway. Maybe I could..." Honestly, I wasn''t quite sure <em>what</em> I could do right now just by talking, if anything. "I''ll talk to him. Then after, the two of us can figure out a way to change his mind."


    "Good luck," Veronica said as I walked away, back toward the Elder''s office.


    When I got close to his desk, I finally got a good look at McNamara. He was clean shaven with a head of wavy - yet impably groomed - silver hair. His face wasn''t terribly lined or saggy like you''d expect of someone who had been called ''old man,'' and yet he carried a strange sort of age and wisdom about him, making it terribly hard to get a read on how old he was. What stood out to me most of all, however, were his robes; they were unmistakably the same style of robes I''d seen Elijah wearing when I''d confronted him in the Sierra Madre vault.


    "When Pdin Ramos informed me that Veronica was approaching with an outsider in tow," McNamara started speaking before I''d finished walking up the steps. "I will be honest - I didn''t know what to think. After giving the matter some thought, however, I''ve decided that an outsider could be of use to me right now."


    "Uh... hi." I said, simply. He seemed a bit caught off guard that I didn''t just let him finish. "I''m Sheason Fisher. You must be Elder McNamara, yes? Pleasure to meet you." I held out my hand. The Elder actually smiled, and chuckled softly to himself.


    "Yes, of course. You must forgive me. We... I have spent so long away from members of the outside world that I sometimes... I forget my manners." He took my hand and shook it firmly. "Yes, I am Elder Nn McNamara, leader of the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. As I said, I believe an outsider would be of use right now. However, I will not force you to help us. Should you refuse, you will be allowed to leave here - though your actions would still remain Veronica''s responsibility. What do you say, outsider? Are you willing to help us?"


    I was of two minds about this. On the one hand, I had just heard this guy decrying the people of the outside world, saying that none of us had the answers to his problems, and now he''s asking me for help. Not to mention, I wasn''t too keen on agreeing to work without first finding out what the work was. But on the other hand... maybe by being the outsider who leant them aid, I could use this to help sway his mind. Make Veronica''s job easier - and, in the long run, my own, as well. I hoped.


    "Just so long as you''re not thinking of strapping a bomb cor to my neck." At his confused look, I added: "I''ve had bad experiences with Brotherhood Elders in the past." This just seemed to make him more confused, so I sighed. "Yes, I think I can help you out." Maybe, I decided not to say.


    "Then allow me to exin our situation. This bunker is currently locked down, allowing no entry or exit." He paused, adding hastily: "With you and Veronica being one of the few exceptions. However, reconnaissance must still be undertaken. In these cases, teams are sent out to investigate sites or retrieve materials deemed too important to ignore. Three such teams have gone missing recently, and the news of their disappearance has not yet been widely spread - to avoid undue concern." I connected the dots immediately.


    "So, you need someone who''s <em>not</em> Brotherhood to go looking for them," I said. McNamara nodded solemnly.


    "The less who are aware of the situation, the better. My brothers and sisters were deeply traumatized by the losses we incurred several years ago at Helios One. It would be imprudent to worry them unduly without first discovering the facts of the situation."


    "Alright, sounds simple enough," I started mentally kicking myself as soon as I said that; damn it man, now that you''ve said that, that''ll ensure that things are <strong>not</strong> simple! "So, how do I find them?"


    "Talk to Pdin Ramos, before you leave. Each of the patrols carried a holotape, detailing their missions. He will give you the data needed to track them through your Pip Boy. The shielding of the bunker prevents us from actively tracking them, but their positions should show up once you''re on the surface. If they are still alive, bring them home. But, should our worst fears be realized, then please... bring back their identification tags, so that their names may be immortalized in the Scrolls and histories of the Chapter."


    "Out of curiosity," I started speaking as soon as the door to McNamara''s office slid closed. "What, exactly, are you trying to aplish?" Veronica shook her head.


    "That''s been my question to the Elder for <em>years</em>: what are we trying to aplish? The Brotherhood collects weapons technology - and for what? To keep it out of other people''s hands? That clearly hasn''t worked. To defend ourselves? We can''tpete with the NCR''s numbers. Or the Legion''s. I need to convince him that we''ve been fighting a war for a lost cause... and if the Brotherhood is going to survive, we have to find a new role in society. Attract new members."


    "And how are you going to do that?" I asked.


    "Well... look at the Followers," Veronica said, simply. "They use their expertise to improve people''s lives. They train people to be self-sufficient. That expertise cultivates respect and gratitude. Spreads their ideals. Draws talent to their cause."


    "Is that Arcade''s voice I hear?" I asked, frankly a bit shocked that she''d be defending the Followers - much less praising them like she was doing. "I thought you considered them anarchists?"


    "Well... to be fair, they are anarchists... kind of. And those are his words, I''ll grant you that. But... I haven''t just been talking with Arcade. I''ve also been talking to Julie Farkas, at the Mormon Fort, and other doctors and scientists down that way. And you know what? I think they''ve got the right idea. They make friends like we make enemies - but from what I''ve seen, talking to them, they don''t possess even a <em>fraction</em> of the knowledge the Brotherhood has. If we took on their role... the Brotherhood of Steel could stand up to anyone. We wouldn''t have to hide. We wouldn''t have to be afraid. We wouldn''t have to merely <em>survive</em> - we could <em>live</em>." Veronica looked at me, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. What''s more... her smile seemed genuine. For that brief moment, she wasn''t wearing a mask.


    "Alright, so you need something big to change his mind," I said. "What''d you have in mind?" The look in Veronica''s eyes faltered, and she started shaking her head.


    "I... I don''t know. I don''t know. We''d need... I don''t know. Something that would show him conclusive proof... something that shows the Brotherhood will fail. Or that we can do better a different way... But the only thing that will really grab his attention is technology." She sighed, and a small, half-smile crept into the corners of her lips. "Huh. Maybe Elijah had the right idea..."


    Images shed in my head of the madman, Elijah, looming over me with hatred, malice, and fury in his eyes... followed by what would''ve happened if I hadn''t stopped him. A wastnd covered in toxic red Cloud... orbitalsers scorching the earth in deadly spears of light... an army of ghosts, wading through the Cloud, heedless of the danger... and a single, solitary figure standing atop Helios One, andughing at the unfiltered madness of the ughter.


    "Trust me," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "No he didn''t."

 Chapter 78: Brotherhood and Followers

    Chapter 78: Brotherhood and Followers


    The moment the two of us stepped out of the elevator, the pit of my stomach fell out. There were four Brotherhood pdins standing in front of us barring our way, and not only were they all wearing power armor plete with helmets), but they were all armed with their weapons drawn. The weapon carried by the one in the front - the only one of the four to be wearing T-51b - looked like a minigun, except instead of normal barrels it had the <em>elerator coils</em> of a Gauss weapon.


    Right, this is not a ce I want to be right now.


    "What is this?" The man carrying the Gauss minigun stepped forward, his heavily armored feet shaking the metal floor. "Veronica brings an outsider into our home, then has a private audience with the Elder?"


    "I''ve had audiences with the Elder before, Cutter," Veronica said, apparently unfazed by this sudden turn of events. "This is no different." The powered armor behemoth with the massive gun turned his head to look at Veronica, and then turned back to me.


    "The two of you may have the Elder fooled, but we know better. Veronica has always twisted the Founder''s principles to her own ends. We will not stand idly by and allow her to corrupt our Elder''s thinking..." I half expected them to open fire right then and there. And there I was with nowhere to go.


    "CUTTER!" A voice like a hammer smashing an anvil bellowed from behind the crowd of powered armor troops, and the four of them turned at the sound, lowering their weapons. Another man wearing T-51b - minus the helmet - walked up to the Gauss minigun-toting soldier. "Stand down. All of you."


    "But Sir, I-"


    "Get a cup of coffee, pdin. You, <strong>and</strong> your squad. <strong>Now.</strong>" It was obviously not a suggestion. Hell, his tone of voice almost made <em>me</em> want to leave to get some coffee. The soldier in the lead straightened up immediately.


    "Sir. Yes, sir." Before he left, the pdin turned to look at me. "We''ll be watching you, outsider. Count on it."


    The four power armored soldiers marched off, and the helmetless man turned to face us, finally giving me a good view at what he looked like. Two things about him stood out to me right off the bat. The first was the massive scar on the left side of his face, running from his forehead, over his left eye, and down to his cheek. And the second was his balding head, with a pitiful attempt to hide it with the thin, wispy strands of ab-over. I would''veughed, if it wasn''t for the power armor, the scar, and his heavy-set jaw that looked sharp enough to cut ss.


    "Hardin," Veronica said curtly. He nodded in her direction.


    "Veronica." He folded his arms across his chest, and turned to look down at me. "So, <em>you''re</em> the wastnder that''s been given leave to wander around freely. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. My name is Edgar Hardin. I''m the Head Pdin of this chapter, and I''d like to have a word with you." He cast a nce with his one good eye to Veronica, and then back to me. "In private."


    "Sorry, Hardin," Veronica stood her ground next to me. "We were actually just leaving."


    "I''m sorry, <em>scribe</em>, did you get the impression I was asking?" The two of them scowled at each other for a few seconds... And then Veronica sighed, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth.


    "Fine. But he''s <strong>my</strong> responsibility while inside the bunker. Don''t be long," She started walking away... but as soon as she was behind him and out of sight, she mouthed a warning to me: Do not trust him. Before Hardin could get suspicious, she kept walking, and turned into the first hallway on the right.


    "I think you and I might be able to help each other, wastnder," Hardin said, refusing to unfold his arms. "I don''t know what the Elder talked to you about, but I can tell you this chapter is in trouble, and <em>he</em> is at the center of it. Are you willing to listen to what I have to say?" I looked up at his massively armored form, looming over me, and sighed.


    "Do I have a choice?" I asked, honestly. He shrugged - which, given the armor he was wearing, I wasn''t quite sure how he pulled that off.


    "You always have a choice, wastnder." I wasn''t entirely convinced of that, so I decided to y it safe and listen to him. At least for the moment.


    "Alright, let''s hear what you have to say."


    "As you may have already heard," Hardin said, finally unfolding his arms "this entire base is under a state of lockdown. No one goes out except small patrols at night. Most of the chapter has been sealed in here for years, and those few who were outside when the lockdown was initiated are forbidden from returning. Morale has plummeted as time has gone by, and many of our current pdins haven''t even seenbat outside of training simtions. And all because of the Elder''s explicit order that no one be allowed in or out. The only way things will change is if a new Elder is installed."


    "What about Veronica?" I asked. "She seems toe and go as she pleases."


    "Veronica is..." Hardin grimaced. "... a special case. She handles the procurement of supplies. If we didn''t let her and those like her back in, we''d all starve. If the Elder could manage it, he''d shut them out as well, and all in the name of security. Which is why we need to rece him."


    "Sounds to me like something you''d want to actually talk to the <em>Elder</em> about, and not some random outsider who talked to him a grand total of two minutes. Have you brought it up with him?" I asked. Hardin snorted.


    "Of <strong>course</strong> I have. Many times. The Elder has an open door policy, and will listen to advice on any subject, save this one. He refuses to see that our istion is slowly weakening us. Aside from being our duty, going out on missions is what kept us strong, and because he fails to see that... he must be reced."


    "And I suppose you''d nominate yourself to rece him?" I said, putting two and two together. His expression remained unchanged.


    "I would. I <strong>am</strong> the senior-most pdin in the chapter, and have morebat experience than any two others here put together. I''d dly support another candidate, but no one has the courage to step forward and make the attempt, so it falls to me. I would put this chapter back on the right path, if I could just assume leadership."


    "So why talk to me?" I asked. "What do I have to do with any of this?"


    "Because, as an outsider, you can find information that I cannot," Hardin said simply. I raised an eyebrow.


    "I''m... not sure I follow." Hardin sighed.


    "I''ve gone through the records dozens of times, looking for a precedent regarding the dismissal of an Elder ande up with nothing. More than that, the people who are most likely to know how it could be done are also some of McNamara''s strongest supporters. They will refuse to help me, but you? You would arouse less suspicion asking questions about such matters. The fact that the Elder has some tasks for you means his faithful won''t suspect you, and you have a line open to the man himself. You are in a perfect position to help me."


    "That seems to be amon thread,tely..." I grumbled, musing about my current situation in the Mojave. "Everyone seems to think I''m the right man in the right ce. I''m starting to think I keep finding myself in the <em>wrong</em> ce." Hardin smirked for half a second, and snorted.


    "The right man in the wrong ce can make all the difference in the world." I looked at him oddly. I had a feeling I''d heard that somewhere before... I just couldn''t ce it... I shook it off.


    "Yeah... alright, let''s assume for a minute that I help you with your scheme to further your own personal ambitions, and help you overthrow McNamara..." Hardin seemed to bristle at that; good, let him know I''m not an idiot, like he was obviously expecting... "What happens once you''re King under the mountain? What do I get out of helping you?"


    "When I be Elder, the lockdown will be lifted, and we''ll once again be able to send patrols out into the wastes. We''ll be powerful again. And when that happens, it will be good to have the Brotherhood as an ally. Good enough?"


    "But you still wouldn''t recruit outsiders, would you?" I asked. Hardin cocked his head to the side, and narrowed his eyes at me curiously. It was like he didn''t understand the question.


    "Of course not. The Codex forbids it. <em>''We do not help them, or let them in. We keep knowledge they must never have.''</em> If I were to recruit outsiders, then I would be turning my back on our most sacred teachings."


    I shook my head. This guy seemed even <em>more</em> obstinate than McNamara. And neither of them realized the <em>real</em> reason they had no future. If nothing else, Veronica seems to think there''s a chance McNamara could be swayed, but this guy? Forget it.


    "Sorry. But I''m not going to have any part in your little coup. You have fun!" I smiled up at him, gave him a wave, and started walking. He turned to keep facing me as I walked away.


    "I half expected you to say as much," he said. "I''ll continue to pursue the matter on my own. Should you continue dealing with the Elder and find yourself beginning to see my point of view, I''ll be around."


    "Sorry about all that..." Veronica said as we made our way down another corridor. "Hardin''s a bit of an ass."


    "Ambitious, too," I said, checking over my shoulder. Nope, he wasn''t behind us. "He wanted my help to oust McNamara."


    "Oh god, THAT''S what he wanted to talk to you about?" Veronica chuckled a few times, and seemed... I dunno, a bit relieved. "No wonder he wanted me to leave, I would''ve spent the whole timeughing."


    "This isn''t the first time he''s tried to do this, I take it?" I asked. She just smiled and shook her head.


    "Hardin has been after the Elder post for <strong>years</strong>. Before Elijah was named Elder, even. He always said it was ''highly unusual'' that a scribe was made Elder, that ''the post should pass to a pdin or knight - someone withbat experience.'' But everyone knows he just wants the power. He doesn''t even try to hide it."


    "Yeah, he didn''t seem all that subtle..." I smiled to myself. Well, that''s one less thing to worry about. Hopefully. "So, where are we going now?"


    "We''re heading to the workshop level. You said you wanted to talk to Lorenzo, and that''ll be your best bet at finding him. He''s always tinkering away with <em>something</em>..."


    I don''t know how Veronica found the ce - absolutely no doors or hallways down here were marked or signed - but the next thing I knew, the two of us were walking into one of the workshops. I knew immediately it was a workshop, because there were dozens of people with dozens of tools working on dozens of machines, weapons, armor... you name it. Off in the back, I''m sure I saw a pair of people working on something massive and unidentifiable that was arcing electricity across the room.


    The next thing I knew, Veronica was dragging a dark haired, dark skinned man wearing welding goggles and recon armor out from around a corner.


    "Hi Lorenzo," Veronica said. "I think you two wanted to talk?"


    "We do?" Lorenzo asked, confusing crossing his features as soon as he pulled his goggles off his face. "I''m sorry, I don''t believe we''ve met? I''m Senior Knight Lorenzo." He smiled at me and extended his hand.


    "Sheason," I shook his hand. "You''re right, we haven''t met. Not really. You sent a message to me through ED-E a few days ago?"


    "Oh!" His expression perked up immediately. "You''re the one with the robot, aren''t you? Yes, I was hoping you''d bring it my way..." Lorenzo started looking around. "Where is it?"


    "Not here," I said. "I wanted to talk to you first, before handing him over. What exactly do you want with ED-E?"


    "Well," he turned away, gesturing for me to follow. Around the corner was a RobCo terminal, spewing termlink code from the top to the bottom of the screen at a rapid-fire pace. "I picked up its signal several months ago when he arrived in the Mojave. Merely based on the information I was able to pick up on the surface, I can tell it is an impressive piece of hardware - I''ve never seen a data stream from any robot quite like his. The signal went dark for several weeks, and didn''te back online again until veryte in the day on the 19th ofst month. Since then, the signal has been scrambled."


    "What do you mean, scrambled?" Veronica asked, peering around my shoulder. Lorenzo stared at the screen, continuing to talk.


    "Perhaps ''scrambled'' is the wrong word... Before his signal went dark, I was able to track it by periodic bursts of data packets. The data has been far more infrequent,tely." Lorenzo turned back to me again. "Based on what little I have, I believe it may be carrying some Enve data. Has it said or done anything that might indicate what that information might be?"


    "Well..." I cleared my throat. "There was a recording. Two of them, actually. I think they were made by his creator, and they mentioned something about Enve Duraframe Eyebots, and something about Poseidon Energy research." His eyes widened to the size of pie tes immediately.


    "D- did you say Poseidon Energy? I''ve been researching a number of Poseidon projects here! Iplete logs I was able to retrieve from Helios before the NCR took it over! If you could bring your robot here, it might have just what I need toplete my research!"


    "ED-E." I said. Lorenzo looked taken aback.


    "Sorry?"


    "His name is ED-E."


    "Well, that was... horrible," I said the moment we exited the bunker and emerged on the surface. We''d only been down there for an hour or two, but already I was grateful for the sunlight and the fresh air. "I can see now why you don''t spend too much time down there, the air is <em>stifling</em>!" Veronica shrugged.


    "That''s just how the bunker has always been," Veronica and I got in my car. "So, what next?"


    "Well..." I looked at my Pip Boy''s map, trying to find the coordinates Ramos gave me right before we left. "McNamara wanted me to look for three patrols that had gone missing. ording to this, the holotape tracker... things are..." I looked closer at the map. "There''s three of them. One is up near Nellis, another is somewhere in Henderson, and thest one is actually pretty close, just northeast of here near ck Mountain. Think we should try and find them?"


    Veronica paused, weighing her options for a minute.


    "Not yet," she said eventually. Before I got a chance to ask why, she continued. "The Elder said you could track their mission holotapes, yes?" I nodded. "That''s..." Veronica looked concerned.


    "What? What''s wrong?"


    "Brotherhood mission holotapese with a built in distress signal... but the pdin in charge is supposed to hit what is effectively a ''snooze'' button every few hours. They only go active if they haven''t been reset." Veronica looked worried. I looked back at the map on my arm.


    "So what you''re saying is, these guys are probably in trouble."


    "In trouble... or..." She gulped audibly. "More likely, dead. And if there are things or people out there that can bring down a team of pdins in powered armor..."


    "You don''t want to go in half-cocked, with no firepower." Veronica nodded. "Alright, we''ll leave it till tomorrow."


    "So what next?" Veronica asked as I put the car in gear and started driving away from the bunker. I was going over everything that had been said thest few hours, and Itched onto something Veronica said after mentioning Elijah...


    "You said there was some technology you found, that Elijah only trusted you with, yes?"


    "Well, yeah, but... you seemed very..." Veronica paused, as if searching for the right word. "...<em>emphatic</em> about not using anything Elijah might have wanted to use." I shrugged.


    "Yeah, I just... I want us to be... cautious. That''s all." Veronica eyed me curiously. "If you think there''s something he might have found that he trusted you with, then... we should try and find it. Where is it?"


    "Well... there''s one I can think of that would at least prove my point. If it still exists. But I don''t know where it is off the top of my head. We''d have to go to one of them terminals I used to use to keep in contact with him when I was out on patrol, scavenging for technology. This was back when the Brotherhood owned Helios One. If we go there, I can pull up his research on it."


    "Alright, we can head there. After a slight detour." Veronica looked at me curiously. "I want to talk to April, remember? The girl from the Followers who wanted to look at ED-E?"


    "Oh, right! I forgot about that..."


    "What, <strong>this</strong> is where she is?" Veronica asked as we pulled up outside the small shack. We were several miles north of the 188 trading post, in the south part of Henderson. The building was one of the few around that wasn''t copsed, and there was a gpole sticking out of the ground in the front,plete with the Followers of the Apocalypse g pping in the breeze.


    "These are the coordinates Arcade gave me this morning," I got out of the car, walking to the outpost. "Why? What''s the problem?"


    "No... there''s no problem, it''s just... I know this ce. I used to do some trading with a doctor here, back when I was scavenging out of the 188."


    "Well, that''s great then! C''mon, let''s go."


    The interior of the Followers outpost was small and cramped. The only illumination that I could see was the outside light filtering in through the half-dozen filthy windows. Several of the Followers - instantly identifiable by their whitebcoats with the ck cross stitched on the shoulder - were busy in this room and the next. Alongside the doctors, I could see at least two men in leather armor with guns strapped to their backs, leaning against the walls and keeping watch. That makes sense, the Followers would employ mercenaries this far away from Vegas.


    "Doctor Alvarez?" Veronica asked aloud. A woman with frizzy ck hair peeked her head above the nearby desk, adjusting her sses as she rose.


    "Oh! Hello Veronica!" The doctor smiled broadly. "Sorry about that - the damn connection for my terminal is loose again. How have you been? I haven''t seen you for nearly a month! Any news or salvage from the 188?" My, this woman had a rather motherly feel about her, didn''t she?


    "Sorry doctor," Veronica smiled, shaking her head. "Not today. I''m actually here for my friend," she jabbed a thumb in my direction. "He was told April Martimer was here. Is she around?"


    "Oh, you''re looking for April?" Alvarez turned her gaze in my direction. "I think you can find her in the back, dear. It''s lucky you dropped by when you did, though."


    "Lucky?" I asked. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, she''s packing up all her equipment. I believe she said she was going to the Mormon Fort outpost in Freeside," Alvarez stated simply. "I don''t think she''s left yet, so you should still be able to talk to her." I nodded and started off for the back. As I left, I heard Veronica and Alvarez keep talking:


    "Do you want me to take a look at yourputer? I''m pretty handy with this sort of thing..."


    "Oh, would you? That would be lovely, dear."


    It didn''t take long to find April, if I''m honest. Her office was in the far back of the outpost, and light was spilling from the outside through the open doors. Several mercenaries were movingrge boxes and electronic equipment on metal hand trucks. There was a ck woman wearing abcoat, with long ck hair tied in a braid behind her standing in the middle of the room, packing things from her desk into a crate.


    "April Martimer?" I asked; the woman turned with a raised eyebrow.


    "Yes? I''m sorry, but I''m kind of busy at the moment."


    "Don''t worry, I shouldn''t take long. I''m the guy who you contacted through ED-E the other day? You know, the robot the Brotherhood also wants?" She snapped her fingers, started nodding her head, and gave me her full attention.


    "Ah, right. You must be The Courier then. Pleasure to meet you." Now, it was my turn to look at her with a raised eyebrow.


    "You recognize me?" That seemed odd - didn''t House say the other day that I wasn''t readily recognizable as The Courier? April shrugged and smiled.


    "Not your face, no. But I''ve heard through some of the Followers'' channels that the man called Courier Six travels with a robot, identical to the eyebot I''ve been tracking. Didn''t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together." She paused, looking me up and down. "I honestly thought you''d be taller."


    "I get that a lot," I tried my best to suppress a smirk. "So, you said you wanted to look at ED-E. What do you want him for?"


    "Well, it has research data inside it that''s rted to the Enve and Poseidon Energy tech, yes? I''d like to get what I can from it and use that data for the good of humanity. <strong>All </strong>of humanity, unlike the Brotherhood."


    "So, what are you going to do to him? You''re not going to take him apart, are you?"


    "No, nothing like that. I was going to plug him into my equipment, to try and extract whatever log data I can, without causing any damage to its programming. Shouldn''t be more than a few days work."


    "Sounds like what Lorenzo wanted to do. Pretty much. Why don''t you want the Brotherhood to have it?" April rolled her eyes and scoffed.


    "Well, if you''ve talked to them you should know - they''re all about keeping technology to themselves, and using what they find to protect themselves. They''re istionist, belligerent, and I have no doubt that they n to use whatever data they find for weapons research."


    "What if that''s what it is - weapons research?" I asked. "I mean, ED-E <em>is</em> a military robot, after all." April shrugged,pletely unfazed by the question.


    "We won''t know for sure until I get a look at the data." She packed thest of the equipment into the box, and handed it to one of the mercenaries. "If you decide to let me have a look,e by the Old Mormon Fort. I should have all my equipment set up either there, or one of the nearby buildings in the next few days. Ask around for me or Emily Ortal - either one of us should be around once I''m all set up."


    "Need a lift to the Mormon Fort?" I asked, almost on reflex. "There''s just one more thing Veronica and I need to do today, then we''re gonna head back up to Vegas." I tried to get a look at the equipment that was piled up outside. "I should have enough space in my Corvega..."


    "Don''t worry about it," she waved me off. "I''ve got a ride." She pulled me aside, so I could get a better look out the open door. All her equipment was loaded into the back of a rusted pickup truck with no windows, a wooden-walled tbed behind the cab, and a ck-and-white Followers symbol painted on the door.


    The m outpost,'' as Veronica called it, was about a mile south-west of Helios One. From the outside, it just looked like a shack - something a scavenger would build out of scrap metal, tucked away off the beaten path in the foothills of ck Mountain. And inside... it was more of the same. That is, until Veronica pulled away part of the floor, revealing a porthole with adder, leading into a small bunker.


    "So, what is it with the Brotherhood and underground bunkers?" I asked as I descended thedder. "Is Agoraphobiamon among members of the Brotherhood?" Veronica ignored me, going straight for the terminal.


    The interior of the bunker was very small. There was a single cot hanging off the wall with a footlocker underneath, there was a locker next to it, a workbench against one of the walls, and a terminal on a small desk hooked up to the wall opposite the cot. Hanging on the wall above the workbench was a small Brotherhood g.


    "Let''s see what we''ve got here... Okay, yeah. This is the one I was thinking of." Veronica stepped aside, and let me get a look at the screen. "The Pulse Gun."


    "What about these others?" I asked, pointing at the screen; there were two other entries in the sectionbeled ''research notes.'' Veronica screwed up her face.


    "Well, one of them I know isn''t going to work. The rangefinder for the ARCHIMEDES satellite."


    "Oooh, yeah..." Images shed in my head from the other night, when we held the party at Nellis and got the lightshow of the satellite burning up in the atmosphere. "I don''t think that''s going to work anymore."


    "This other one might work, though... It looks like the NCR was onto some miracle farming technology." That was surprising. Why would Elijah be interested in nts?


    "Farming technology?" I asked. Veronica nodded... and then shrugged.


    "More or less. Supposedly it''s a vegetation enhancer. The NCR has a science division, OSI, and a branch operates out of their McCarran base. ording to this, they found something. Guess somebody wasn''t very good at keeping secrets. I don''t think the Brotherhood would ever pursue it since, it''s... you know... not a weapon. But self-sufficiency is fundamental to maintaining our operational efficiency. If it works, then McNamara would see the value of an alternate course."


    "Maybe..." I honestly wasn''t convinced. I had this strange feeling that McNamara''s reaction would be the same as my initial reaction. "What about the pulse gun? Is it like a pulse slug from a shotgun or a pulse grenade?"


    "Sort of. It operates on the same principles, since it''s an electromaic weapon from before the war. It was highly experimental, though. Never saw mass production. But, ording to the notes, the US military was developing it as a countermeasure to power armor, which the feared the Chinese were developing. Supposedly, a prototype was being housed at Nellis."


    "Nellis, huh?" I said with augh. "If it''s a gun, we might have trouble convincing them to hand it over."


    "Well, I don''t <em>think</em> it goes boom, so who knows." Veronica chuckled a bit herself.


    "Hell, maybe we should just <em>ask</em> Pearl when we head up that way."


    "Might work. But just imagine what something like that floating around could do to the Brotherhood? We''d be on equal footing with any idiot with a gun!" She nched, looked at me nervously, and then blushed profusely. "Er... no offense."


    "None taken. ''An Idiot With A Gun'' could be the title of my autobiography."

 Chapter 79: The Better Part of Valor

    Chapter 79: The Better Part of Valor


    The next morning, Veronica and I were in the kitchen getting ready for the day''s events by checking all our weapons and equipment. And if I''m honest, I had a <em>bit</em> more to do than her.


    "Are you seriously going to bring <em>all</em> of that?" Veronica asked with a chuckle, staring at everythingid out on the table. Nearly two dozen different guns and energy weapons, ammunition for everything, several grenades, a couple of mines, five different types of knives (including the butterfly knife I''d stolen the other day), and a pair of brass knuckles were allid out. Sitting alongside the weapons were several dozen stimpacks, a few syringes of Med-X, some vials of antivenom, and three bottles of Rad-X. I was already wearing the Riot Gear. Minus the helmet; I''d keep that in the car until I needed it.


    "Uh... yeah. Why not? I''ll probably keep some of the bigger guns in the trunk of my car, but most of this I can carry myself..." Absentmindedly, I picked up the 12.7mm SMG, and checked to make sure the magazine was seated properly. Veronica just shook her head, resting Oh, Baby! against her shoulder. (I still couldn''t quite believe that''s what she <em>actually</em> named that rusted super sledge from the Mt. Charleston cave...)


    "What, no gatlingser?" Sheughed. I shrugged.


    "I thought about it, but Raul took a look at the Sprtel-Wood the other day. It''s still way too spent to use. Apparently, it needs some internal re-wiring..." I set the SMG down, and picked up aser RCW, checking the sights of the energy weapon styled to look like an old Thompson.


    "I..." Veronica was staring at me, mouth agape. "I was <em>kidding</em>. You were seriously thinking about bringing the <em>gatlingser</em>." I set down theser RCW and grabbed a few sma grenades, attaching them to my armor.


    "If you''re right, and the Brotherhood patrols McNamara wants me to find are dead, that means <em>something</em> killed them. I''m through fucking around, I''m not taking any chances. Just onest thing. Hey, ED-E!" As soon as I called out his name, the eyebot sped into the room, beeping happily. "Think you can be our eye in the sky today?"


    ED-E let out a burst of patriotic marching music in response.


    "So why <em>are</em> we going to see Pearl first?" Veronica asked as we rolled past Nellis'' front gates. "I thought one of the holotapes was located south of Nellis? Shouldn''t we go after the closest one first?"


    "Well, you''re right about it being close," I held up my Pip Boy. "ording to the map, it''s somewhere in the bombed out no-man''snd. I thought, after asking Pearl about the Pulse Gun, we''d have a quick word with the artillery spotters and the gun crews. I mean, I know they recognize the car, since I''m not having to drive like a maniac this time, but..." Veronica nodded slowly.


    "You want to make sure they don''t even fire <em>near</em> us while we''re looking for the pdins. Gotcha." Recognition dawned, and her smile evaporated. "But... hang on, if they''re in... then that must mean..."


    "Yeah..." I nodded slowly.


    We found Pearl in the main hangar with the B-29, and I''ll be honest - I was in for a bit of a shock. The main hangar doors were open, and I could see dozens of Boomers surrounding it, all working on the bomber. It waspletely in pieces just a few days ago, but now it looked... well, halfway intact, at least. If nothing else, the nose and one of the wings were intact. Pearl and Loyal were near the nose, talking to each other about something.


    "Hey Pearl, Loyal!" I called out after parking the Corvega. Both of them turned at the sound. "The bomber is looking good. When do you suppose it''s gonna be done?"


    "Oh!" Pearl said, smiling widely as I approached, giving me a friendly wave. "Wee, Sheason! I didn''t expect to see you back here so soon."


    "Hello, outsider," Loyal grabbed his goggles, and set them on his forehead. "Yeah, I can''t give you an exact figure on when Pearl''s gonna be finished. Jack and I are still running a lot of the pieces from the Lady through inventory." I raised an eyebrow; Loyal chuckled, patting Pearl - that is, the woman standing next to him - on her shoulder. "Yeah, we decided to name the bomber after our girl here. Take a look!"


    Loyal pointed at the ne; there was a pin-up painted on the metal of the bombers nose just behind the canopy. It was a painting of a rather... lets be honest here, a gorgeous looking blonde, sitting with her back to us and looking coyly over her shoulder, wearing a practically skin-tight Vault 34 jumpsuit. The name "Pearl" was painted in red script next to her, and she was framed by a yellow cog-looking thing: the outline of a Vault door. It was kind of hard to reconcile the foxydy painted on the ne with the 70 year old standing right in front of me.


    "<strong>Damn</strong>." That''s all I could manage to say. I pointed at the pin-up and turned to Pearl. "Is that you?" She nodded, positively beaming.


    "Oh definitely," she smiled like a cat. "I used to model for a Vault magazine when I was a teenager - that picture was actually from my ''Miss January, 2222'' photo shoot. But that was long before my hair went grey." She winked at Loyal, and the two of them startedughing. It took Veronica to bring all of us back down to earth.


    "Sorry to interrupt," Veronica said. "But we''re not actually here for that. We''re here because we''re looking for something."


    "Uhh... yeah." I shook my head, trying to focus. "It''s a weapon we''re looking for. Something called a Pulse Gun. Veronica thinks it might be somewhere here in Nellis, so we thought we''de to you first." I smirked to myself, and added: "I wouldn''t dream of removing it from the Homnd without asking permission."


    "Pulse Gun, Pulse Gun... Why does that sound familiar..." Pearl scratched her head, and looked pensive - then she snapped her fingers, and her face lit up. "Ah! Yes, I think I know what you''re talking about. Come with me."


    Pearl led us to her house: the old Commanding Officers quarters. At least, I think that''s what it was, given the sign outside the building had the image of a stylized eagle, and the words "COL. R. BLACKWELL, USAF" painted in big bold letters.


    "Make yourselves at home," Pearl said, quickly running deeper into the house, into a room behind the stairs; she kept talking from the other room. "I just need to check the office, I''ll be back in a minute!" Veronica and I didn''t <em>actually</em> make ourselves at home. Instead, we just sort of nervously hung around the entryway.


    "You don''t suppose she''s actually <em>got</em> the Pulse Gun, do you?" Veronica asked. "That would be great if she did, would certainly make my job easier."


    "That''d be nice..." I shook my head. "But when has anything ever been easy?"


    "Good point." Veronica sighed heavily. Sure enough, Pearl returned a few minutester, not with the Pulse Gun, but with an ancient military file folder in one hand, and a piece of paper in the other.


    "Here you go," Pearl said, handing me the document. "That''s why I remembered the Pulse Gun, I read about it when I went through the files in the HQ a few years ago."


    "Alright, let''s see..." I scanned the page and started to read aloud. "Inventory transfer... yadda, yadda, yadda... Okay, ''Due to current events, Staff Sergeant Daniels... hereby authorized... transport item number T-11836A, codenamed CIRCUITBREAKER... instation... Vault 34 to be sealed... armory... safekeeping... retrieve the prototype... signed Colonel Roy ckwell, United States Armed Forces.'' Oh for fuck sake!" I sighed, handing her back the paper.


    "So it''s in the armory of your old Vault, then?" Veronica asked. Pearl nodded.


    "Hang on, that doesn''t make sense," I thought back to when Pete told me the ''History of the Boomers.'' "Didn''t you guys break open the armory before you left?"


    "Actually no," Pearl smirked, putting her hands on her hips. "The Overseer denied everyone who lived in Vault 34 ess to the armory. That''s one of the main reasons we <em>left</em>... after the riots, anyway. I was in myte twenties for The Exodus, and I can say for certain everyone who left did so with their own guns. None of the heavy-duty hardware in the armory."


    "Alright, so we have to go to a Vault? " I asked.


    "Looks like. I can make it a little easier for you, at least." Pearl reached into the file folder, pulling out a small rusted key. "This key came with the file." She tossed it to me with a smile.


    "Can I take a look at that folder?" Veronica asked. Pearl nodded, handing her the file, and V started flipping through the documents. I only got a quick nce before she closed it again, but it looked like blueprints and test results.


    "I will warn you though..." Pearl said to me, her expression suddenly bing serious. "Us Boomers may not have left the Nellis Homnd for 50 years, but I still hear about things that happen in the outside world. If you do end up going to our old Vault... prepare for the worst." Veronica and I looked at each other curiously.


    "What do you mean <em>the worst</em>? It''s a Vault, how bad could it be?" I asked.


    In retrospect, that was probably the single dumbest thing I have ever said in my entire life. But I wouldn''t know that till muchter...


    "I don''t know exactly what happened down there, after we left... but I can say for certain that it was <em>definitely</em> bad. About ten years ago, I heard a report on the radio that <em>things</em> starteding out of the Vault again. <em>Ghouls</em>. And not like your friend Raul, either, all well spoken and the like. Packs of ferals - Glowing Ones, even - still wearing Vault suits and roaming the hills. If you''re going to go down there... be careful. Expect a fight."


    Half an hourter, Veronica and I were in the bombed out no-mansnd beyond the Nellis gates, trying to track down the Brotherhood team. It was surprisingly difficult, because all the various craters everywhere made the whole ce feel like an obstacle course. Eventually, we got close enough - at least, ording to the Pip Boy - that we left the car and started in on foot. Even ED-E flew down low enough to join us in the search.


    "I''m beginning to think your guns may have been overkill," Veronica said, scanning the empty, pockmarked horizon.


    "Day isn''t over yet," I said gripping the marksman carbine, a few craters away from Veronica''s position. My foot slipped on a patch of loose gravel, and when I tried to regain my bnce, I got a good look into the crater next to me. "Hey V! I think I found ''em!" I yelled over to her. I looked back down, and couldn''t help but wince, muttering: "Well... at least <em>part </em>of them..."


    By the time Veronica arrived at the edge, I''d already slid down the crater''s walls to inspect the corpse. It wasn''t a <em>whole</em> corpse, though... I''m not entirely certain where the legs had gone. This definitely was the pdin we were looking for, since even mangled, ckened, and charred as it was, I was still able to recognize it as the T-51b I''d seen so much of yesterday. I hesitated to call whoever this used to be a he or a she, because I couldn''t really tell.


    "Damnit," Veronica slid down the side of the crater, using Oh, Baby! to steady her descent. Her expression darkened as she ced a hand on the charred chestte.


    "Alright, there''s two things McNamara wants me to retrieve - the mission holotape, and the tags. Do you know where they are?" Veronica didn''t say anything. She just nodded, and fiddled with something on the armor that I couldn''t see. There was a pop and a hiss, and a small hatch on the underside of the chestte opened up, revealing the holotape. As I plugged it into my Pip Boy, Veronica reached near the neck, and pulled off the dog tags. She held onto the tags, staring at them silently, and I read the contents of the holotape:


    <em>Mission code: KH-792</em>


    <em>Temporary Password: And to dare to do it.</em>


    <em>Summary: Pdin Raseleanne, you and an escort are to investigate the military base to the northeast for theponents we need. We''ve had reports that the current upants are fiercely territorial, but it''s highly unlikely that they have any weapons that can seriously threaten someone in full power armor. The threat level is considered minimal.</em>


    <em>-McNamara.</em>


    "Alright, I got a question," I unplugged the holotape and shook my head. "Who''s responsible for McNamara''s intel? Because obviously, one-oh-five shells and saturation bombing <em>can</em> seriously threaten someone in powered armor..."


    The next stop on our little expedition was an office building in Henderson. It was a rtively small, three story building that looked surprisingly intact. There were a few broken windows, and the sign in front of the parking lot (which let me know this was the "Repconn Headquarters") was cracked in a few ces, but other than that...


    "I don''t like it," I said after parking the car. I reached into the backseat and grabbed my helmet.


    "Really?" Veronica seemed incredulous. "What don''t you like about it?" As soon as Itched the chin-strap under the gas mask in ce, I pointed to the front door of the office building; at that moment, a Mr. Handy robot hovered into view. "Wait, what? <em>That''s</em> got you worried? Sheason, I think your paranoia is getting the better of you."


    "Where there''s one robot, there''s bound to be more," I grabbed the G36 from the backseat, checked to make sure it was loaded with armor-piercing rounds, and reced the sma grenades on my chest with pulse grenades. I saw that ED-E was still hovering above us when I looked up on the way to the front door.


    The closer we got though, the more I started to think Veronica might have had a point. There were at least three of these Mr. Handy robots that I could see milling about around the outside of the building, and when I got close to one, it didn''t even seem to notice I was there. It just hovered past me, picked up a nearby piece of trash on the ground with one of its multi-jointed arms, and hovered to a nearby overflowing trash can, tossing it on the pile.


    "Oh yeah," Veronica smirked, Oh, Baby! perched on her shoulder. "This ce looks <em>really</em> dangerous..." We opened the big double doors, and found ourselves in a lobby, dominated by a statue of a rocket in the center. To my left was a countertop, with "REPCONN" dominating the wall behind, and to my right was a door, with a wall mounted terminal next to it... and the decaying bodies of several raider fiends piled on the floor next to it.


    ED-E beeped nervously at the grisly sight.


    "Yeah, you said it buddy," I gripped the G36 tighter. Veronica held a hand to her face, covering her nose. I was suddenly d I was wearing the gas mask. Another Mr. Handy floated in our direction, knocking over a sign as it moved. Even though I didn''t see any weapons anywhere on the robot, I still tensed up.


    "Wee to R-R-R-Repconn Headquarters, Rocketeer! Come all this wa-wa-wa-way to see our little facility, have you?" The robot stuttered. I was caught a bit off guard.


    "Uhh..." I looked over to Veronica, who just shrugged. "Yes?"


    "Excellent, excelle-e-e-ent! Please be patient, the tour will begin i-i-i-in just a moment!" The robot started floating away, over to a set of double doors on the left wall.


    "Well, that was... strange." ED-E let out a trio of beeps and a chirp. ED-E and I turned to get Veronica''s take on things, but she was busy studying the terminal.


    "You know, I think you should go on that tour," Veronica said, smiling at me over her shoulder. I raised an eyebrow - and then remembered I was wearing a face-concealing helmet.


    "You can''t be serious." Veronica just smiled even wider.


    "I am. I''ll bet you anything that robot is connected to a security system, and when the fiends tried to get through this," Veronica rapped a few knuckles against the door "they tripped it. If you get the robot out of here, I can work my magic, open the door. Maybe see about disabling any security." I sighed and hung my head.


    "So you seriously want me to go on a tour." Veronica shrugged, smiling at me again.


    "Who knows? You might learn something!"


    10 minutester, ED-E and I returned to the lobby; Veronica was leaning against the wall next to the now open door. Oh, Baby! was also propped up against the wall next to her.


    "So, I checked the terminals in here while you were gone, and I''m <em>pretty sure</em> I added our faces to the personnel database," Veronica said. "If we run into any more robots, they should think we work here. Did you learn anything on the tour?"


    "Yeah. The robots still think it''s 2077, ED-E and I saw a prototype model eyebot, and apparently the tour guide thinks I''m 12 years old. Speaking of, got you a present," I said, reaching behind me and tossing Veronica a small toy rocket with glowing green windows in the side.


    "Ooh! Neat!" She turned it around in her hands before putting it away and picking up her super sledge. The two of us walked through the open door, past several desks and a few robot recharge pods. Veronica walked past me, to the stairs, but I stayed back, running my hands along the walls. She turned around when she realized I wasn''t following. "What are you doing?"


    "Oh, there''s one other thing I learned on the tour - there are hidden doors built into the walls all over the ce. I figured out how to pry open an ess panel on one, and got a look inside. Each one houses a sentry bot - like the kind we fought on the Helios One tower, remember? This is probably the security system you talked about." As I was exining, I found another ess panel... and quickly jammed the lock, so the door would stay closed. "Alright, let''s go."


    As the three of us headed to the stairs leading to the 2nd floor, a small Mr. Handy stopped us on our way up... and then immediately let us pass, spouting off something about "Valid facial pattern detected." Veronica gave me two thumbs up as the robot moved past us.


    The 2nd floor of the building was a maze. It was alleviated slightly by the fact that a few walls were copsed. But it was such a twisting turning maze of halls stered with posters discouraging corporate espionage (which just happened to always be next to the hidden doors in the walls for concealing the sentry bots), that we almost literally ran into another Mr. Handy as we rounded a corner. It paused, staring at us for a minute... and then:


    "Hello Mrs. Millet!" It chirped. "I hope you have an excellent day at work today!" And then it floated off. Veronica stared at the robot for a few minutes,pletely confused.


    "Uh... How did... Mrs. Millet?" She couldn''t see it, but I was smirking under my helmet. I reached into one of the pouches on my belt and pulled out a small red-metal keycard.


    "Didn''t I mention? After the tour guide showed me thearium, I started poking around where I''m sure I wasn''t supposed to. Found an ID keycard on an ancient skeleton. Thought it mighte in handy."


    When we climbed another set of stairs and emerged onto the third floor, we were greeted with a scene of absolute chaos.


    "Holy..." Veronica gripped her super sledge. "What happened here?"


    The walls were covered inser and sma burns. There was a Nuka C vending machine at the end of the hallway that looked like it had exploded from the inside out. There were a few sentry bots - or, at least, the pieces of several sentry bots - scattered all around the hallway. Even ED-E beeped his confusion at the scene. We were so transfixed at the mechanical carnage that we didn''t notice the Mr. Handy floating up to us until it started speaking.


    "Third floor ess is for executives only. Please identify." All three of us turned at the sound... and then I said something that even <em>I </em>wasn''t expecting.


    "Ice cream?" I don''t know why, but that blurted out of my mouth before I could stop. Veronica looked at me like I''d gone insane. The robot paused...


    "Thank you sir. Have a nice day." And then it floated off, leaving us staring at it in disbelief. Both Veronica and ED-E seemed to stare at me, looking as confounded as I felt.


    "Okay. Seriously. How did you do that?" Veronica asked. It took me a minute or so before my brain could form any more words.


    "I... don''t... know. Fuckin'' lucky, though..." I shook it off, and resisted the urge to ask when my life got so weird. Especially since I already knew the answer.


    Instead, I decided to follow the trail of broken robots, and find out where it led - especially since the holotape''s signal was much stronger on this floor. Sure enough, it led us to a section of the ceiling which had copsed... and two corpses nearby (one lying against the wall with aser rifle in hisp, and the other sprawled out on the ground) wearing powered armor.


    "Hmm," I muttered, looking at the armored corpses riddled with bullet-holes andser burns, and then ncing back down the hall. "Looks like ast stand."


    "Looks like..." Veronica said softly, as she tended to the bodies. "Must have gotten cornered and overwhelmed..."


    "Either that, or they weremitted to the position," I said. Veronica shrugged. "Must have been a hell of a fight. I counted at least six destroyed sentry bots on the way here. There may have been more."


    "Doesn''t matter... they still refused to run." Veronica''s voice started to waver, so she stopped talking. Instead, she handed me the holotape as soon as she found it. Veronica was working <em>very </em>hard to keep her expression neutral, but I could tell what she was thinking... I plugged the holotape into my Pip Boy, and started reading.


    <em>Mission Code: XV-56</em>


    <em>Temporary Password: Lives to fight another day.</em>


    <em>Summary: Pdins Matiz and Lander, you are to survey the ruins at coordinates 0.004, 9.265, search for theponents we need, and retrieve what you can. As a secondary objective,pile a list of additional items at the site for future retrieval.</em>


    <em>-McNamara</em>


    "You know, I''m surprised at you," I said to Veronica as she cradled her new toy. "I didn''t think you were one for energy weapons."


    "Normally I''m not," Veronica said, holding the sma rifle we''d swiped from a holding cell deep in Repconn on our way back outside. "But this is a Q-35 matter modtor! One of a kind prototype. I couldn''t just <em>leave</em> it now, could I?"


    "Are you even going to use it?" I asked. Veronica shrugged.


    "Probably not. Shooting things isn''t really my style. I like punching things. And beating things. And smashing things to a bloody pulp. Even with sma weapons, you don''t get that same satisfaction." Veronica beamed at me as she put the rifle in the backseat. "Punching is the gift that just keeps on giving."


    Thest stop was in the western ck Mountain foothills, close to Hidden Valley. And it was strange: I was longing for the terrain of the bombed out no-mansnd outside Nellis. It may have been tough, but at least it was mostly <em>t</em>. We had to abandon the car almost a half mile away from the holotape signal because anywhere beyond the broken up road was entirely too steep, too narrow (or both) for the car.


    Veronica, ED-E and I spread out, and started making our way cautiously in the vague direction of the signal. The closer we got, the more the feeling of unease in my stomach grew. Something was wrong here. It wasn''t like before. There was definitely something wrong here...


    Tik.


    "Hold up!" I called out to Veronica; luckily, she was behind me.


    "What''s up? What''s wrong?" I took off my helmet, reached into the medicine pouch, grabbed a few Rad-X pills, and then tossed her the bottle.


    Tik-ik.


    "The Geiger counter is going off. Wherever this patrol is, it''s in the heat somewhere..." I popped the Rad-X pills in my mouth and put my helmet back on. "Alright, V, I got a question."


    "Yeah?" Veronica tossed me back the bottle after taking a few of the pills herself.


    "Does power armore with radiation shielding?" Veronica''s grip on her super sledge visibly tightened at the question... or maybe it was the sound that was making her tense.


    Tik-tik-tikik-tik.


    "Yes. And a built in Geiger counter, same as a Pip Boy," Veronica motioned with her head at the audibly clicking device on my wrist. "There are also built-in systems for delivering medicine and chems to the armor''s user duringbat actions..."


    "Right, I get the picture. Whatever killed the patrol out here, it wasn''t the rads." I adjusted the grip on my G36. "Get military. Something stinks."


    The two of us didn''t spread out as much after that. ED-E sped off ahead, buzzing well above the winding paths in the hills. The deeper we headed, the louder and more frequent the Geiger counter clicked. There were pockets of radiation everywhere... at least it didn''t seem as heavy as the radiation in House''s bunker under The Fort.


    Before long, red pips started to appear on both the Pip Boy''s radar and the helmet''s motion tracker - just as ED-E returned, beeping urgently. Veronica and I kept low as we ascended the ridge. Even ED-E kept quiet. And a good thing too.


    We weren''t climbing a ridge at all. It was the mouth of a crater, and inside... The creatures crawling around the inside of the crater made my skin crawl. I''d never seen centaurs this close before. But the writhing masses of flesh crawling around the irradiated crater weren''t the only things down there.


    "There," Veronica whispered next to me. "In the center of the basin. I can see the two pdins..."


    "We have to go back," I whispered, my eyes transfixed at the grisly sight below me. Veronica seemed confused. "That hunting rifle of mine, Pinpoint, is in the trunk of my car. It has a scope and a suppressor... Everything I''m carrying is for mid-to-close range, and I''d rather not-"


    The edge of the crater underneath me exploded.


    I remember tumbling and falling down into the crater. The armor was cushioning most of the impacts, but I could barely make heads or tails of anything as I fell. I grabbed the edge of the crater and managed to slow my descent just enough to grab hold of the rifle still clinging to my neck by the leather strap.


    I managed to right myself just in time toe face to face with one of those... <em>things</em>. If you''ve never seen a centaur up close, consider yourself lucky. I don''t know where theye from, but if I had to guess I''d say they were probably human once. <strong>Once</strong>. People call them centaurs because it has a head and a torso that are vaguely human, but beyond that their bodies are mutated into something truly and utterly alien. They only have stumps of twisted muscle and bone where their real arms should''ve been, and the rest of their bodies look like a radscorpion made out of a writhing mass of melted flesh, with cracked and broken bones sticking out at odd angles. I counted six limbs, but it was like what should have been legs were fused together with arms, ending with hands instead of feet... hands with too many fingers in all the wrong ces.


    Worst of all, though were the three massive, fleshy, <em>slimy</em> tentacles writhing and squirming out of its open mouth, headed straight for my face. At least, I <em>assumed</em> its mouth was open. I couldn''t really see a lower jaw anywhere.


    "Son of a bitch!" I brought the arm with my Pip Boy up, but it was no use. One of the tentacles wrapped itself around my arm, another wrapped around the middle of my chest, and the third mped down hard on my head. It lifted me off the ground like I was made out of feathers. I could feel it squeezing against me like a vice, threatening to crush me, despite the armor... I grabbed hold of one of the tentacles to pull myself closer, and nted my feet against the monsters chest; I buried the carbine against the centaur''s eye and squeezed the trigger.


    The gun barked and shed against the melted flesh of its face. It screeched and howled, a glutinous yellow-green ichor spraying in every direction. The grip it had on me loosened, and I fell to the ground with a thud. The centaur thrashed it''s swollen and tumor-ridden head, tentacles iling wildly. I didn''t even bother to get up - I just took aim, flicked the selector switch to full auto, and emptied the rest of the magazine. Each muzzle sh brought with it more spurts of filthy inhuman pus and bile where there should have been blood.


    "Sheason!" I heard Veronica from behind me as the centaur fell, still thrashing. ED-E zoomed overhead, as I got up, recing the magazine. I looked over the copsed and twisted form of the centaur just in time to see half a dozen more shuffle and shamble in my direction.


    "I''m alright, don''t worry!" I fired at the oing horde, and Veronica rushed past me, Oh, Baby! at the ready. "What was that explosion?"


    The nearest centaur reared back, and the slimy tentacles parted, revealing a misshapen mouth, full of entirely too many teeth in all the wrong ces - and it vomited a stream of bright green liquid filled with darkened ck chunks like it was shot from a fire hose. I managed to duck out of the way, just in time to hear it explode on the crater wall behind me. Well, that answers that question, at least.


    I climbed over the dead centaur as quickly as I could. The flesh and bones yielded and cracked underneath my boots as I kept firing round after round into the pus-filled sacks of meat. Streams of bile were being fired off into the air by the centaurs in the back, away from me - probably trying to hit ED-E, impossible moving target that he is.


    The G36 clicked empty just as the nearest centaur sumbed. There were still three more heading to me - at least - and I didn''t have time or cover to change the magazine. So I threw the weapon aside, pulling out the 12.7mm SMG. It may have felt like I was holding a box in my hands, but it still did the trick well enough... for a few seconds. Twenty seven rounds may seem like a lot, but on full auto it onlysts about three seconds. I''m just d that in that three seconds, one of the centaur''s faces turned into a yellowish-green pulpy mass, flecked with bits of bright pink skin and purple muscle.


    Two more now. While I pulled the sawn-off shotgun off my leg, I cast a nce in Veronica''s direction. She was fighting off two of the damn things at once. One of them definitely had its tentacles wrapped around Oh, Baby! and the arm that was holding it, but it was definitely struggling against her. And the other? I couldn''t be sure if it was the <em>centaur</em> who was holding onto Veronica''s arm, or if <em>Veronica</em> was holding onto the centaur''s tentacle-tongues.


    Speaking of tentacles, one of them wrapped itself around my helmet. Or maybe it just hit me really hard. Either way, I grabbed the tentacle with one hand, trying with all my might to pry it away, and with the other I took aim with the shotgun, and fired both barrels into its face. The whole left side of its head was blown apart, sending ichor and chunks of bone everywhere.


    Only one more now, and it was getting perilously close. I had plenty of ammo, but no time to grab my discarded guns to reload, and I seriously doubted the three pistols - Roscoe, That Gun, or the Ranger Sequoia - would do anything to the monster besides piss it off. Well... maybe the Ranger Sequoia, but...


    I shoved the corpse (was it dead? The tentacles were still moving, even though the rest of it was as limp as a sack of meat...) out of my way, and lunged for the nearest centaur, pulling one of my knives off my belt: thebat knife with the serrated edge. It reared back, exposing it''s misshapen mouth; I ducked out of the way as it fired its explosive bile, and before it got a chance to bring the tentacles back down onto me, I rushed up and buried the knife into the central one. I buried it so deep, that it wentpletely through, and then I pushed until the knife went into its face. And there was it''s open mouth, the other two tentacles pping uselessly out of the way.


    "Suck on this," I growled, pulling one of the sma grenades off my chest, priming it, and shoving it into the monsters open mouth. Before it was evenpletely out of sight, I was already running. If I remembered right, sma grenades have a three second fuse, and the-


    The shockwave knocked me face-first into the ground. The whole world behind me lit up in green, and I was showered with gore and chunks of meat. Aside from that though, I was fine. Either I''d managed to run out of the worst part of the st radius, or the armor had taken the brunt of it. Either way, when I turned around, there wasn''t a centaur anymore. Just a smoking, smoldering pile of meat and bone.


    By the time I''d gotten up and collected all my weapons, I saw Veronica, finishing off thest of the centaurs with a swing from Oh, Baby! that practically evaporated its head and most of the torso. She was breathing heavy, and covered from head to feet in gore... so was I, for that matter. For a minute, neither of us said anything, and the only sound apart from our heavy breathing was the steady clicking noise of the Geiger counter.


    "We should... uh..." I pointed feebly at the center of the crater; amazingly, the two pdins seemed untouched. At least, untouched by <em>this</em> round of fighting.


    "Yeah," Veronica tried to wipe some of the gore off her face, but stopped when she realized her sleeve was just as disgusting. "Good idea."


    In no time at all, we''d recovered the tags and the holotape. While I was plugging it into my Pip Boy, I nced at the pdin''s armor. Based on the burns, and how it looked melted in ces, I''d say these pdins took one too many hits of the centaurs explosive projectile vomit.


    <em>Mission Code: CB-03</em>


    <em>Temporary Password: The better part of valor.</em>


    <em>Summary: Pdins Hughes and Fairbanks, I need you two to head north to the nearbymunications array and look for theponents mentioned in the briefing. The mutants there have been reasonable in the past and may prove helpful.</em>


    <em>-McNamara


    </em>


    "Right..." Veronica pushed up against the ground with her super sledge. "Let''s go. I need a shower."


    "I need a drink," I said. ED-E hovered into view. He seemed pleased with himself, the way he was beeping. It looked like he hadn''t taken a scratch. "Yeah, yeah, shut up." ED-E beeped and squawked almost like he wasughing.


    "You know... I admit it. You were right." Veronica said, nodding, as the two of us made our way out of the crater. When I didn''t say anything, she continued: "Your desire to bring an armory''s worth of guns <em>wasn''t</em> overkill. In fact, I''d go so far as to say it was just the right amount of kill." I chuckled to myself, looking over my shoulder at the scene of carnage and devastation and smoking meat behind us.


    "Yeah... overkill is underrated."

 Chapter 80: The Moon Comes Over The Tower

    Chapter 80: The Moon Comes Over The Tower


    Several hours after Veronica and I got back, I was sitting at the kitchen table with Raul and Arcade. ED-E asionally buzzed in and out of the open window, ying some kind of music that I didn''t recognize. The three of us were sitting down for a round of drinks and a game of cards when I heard the elevator doors open. Subconsciously, I tensed up - there was no logical reason to still be paranoid about House or Victor, but I was. Thankfully, I rxed again when Boone emerged, rifle still slung across his back.


    "Hey Boone!" I took a drink from the water bottle in front of me. "Grab a seat and a beer, we''ll deal you into the next hand." He nodded and made his way to the fridge.


    "Sounds good." Boone reached into the fridge, sat down opposite me, and then looked at me from behind his sunsses, raising an eyebrow. "Rough day?"


    "Hm?" It took me a minute to realize he was talking about the IV bag filled with orange liquid hanging on the pole next to me, and the needle sticking out of my left arm. "Oh, right, this! Nah, today wasn''t too bad. Had a bit of trouble with radiation - thus, the Rad Away."


    "But... why''s it in your arm?" Boone asked. Iughed, tossing a few chips on the pile in the center of the table.


    "You can thank Arcade for that. Turns out, I''ve been using them wrong all this time! I always thought you were supposed to drink the stuff."


    "You''re not?" Boone seemed confused; Arcade, on the other hand, just sighed.


    "You can, but I wouldn''t rmend it." Arcade said, "If you drink a packet of Rad Away, it will still flush your system of radiation, but it''ll make you-"


    "...piss like a fire hose," Arcade and I said at the same time. "Yeah, I always wondered about that. So, thanks for helping me get it right. Eventually. But yeah, that''s why I''m drinking water - Arcade says the alcohol could bond with the Rad Away, cause some problems... SO! I''m inviting everyone to drink in my stead. Cheers!" Arcade shook his head and threw his cards face down on the table.


    "I fold," Arcade grabbed his ss, but before he took a drink, he pointed at me. "I still want to take a look at youter. I think you might have a broken rib or two. Maybe a concussion." I shook my head, and drank some more water.


    "C''mon man, don''t worry about it. I''ve got some nasty bruises, but other''n that, I''m fine. Besides, we all know you just want to see me with my shirt off," I smirked, and Arcade rolled his eyes.


    "If that was the case, I''d have suggested strip poker." The two of usughed, but Raul shook his head... after taking the pile of chips, that is.


    "I''m d you didn''t," Raul chimed in. "Trust me Boss, nobody wants to see what I keep under my jumpsuit."


    "The way you''ve been ying today?" I said with augh. "You''d be the only one with clothes left!"


    "Where''s Cass?" Boone asked as Arcade dealt out another hand.


    "No idea," Arcade shrugged. "You''d think she''d be here for something like this. Drinking, gambling, bullshitting with the boys.."


    "She was here earlier,padre" Raul looked over his hand. "She left for Freeside a couple of hours ago. Haven''t seen her since."


    "And Veronica?" Boone asked between sips of beer.


    "Still taking a shower, probably," I smirked. "I don''t really me her, those centaurs were <em>disgusting</em>. Blood and pus everywhere. We were covered in the crap."


    "She''s been in there, what, two hours?" Arcade asked.


    "More like three," Raulughed to himself, tossing a few chips on the pile.


    "Three?! Fuck, she''s gonna drain Lake Mead if she''s not careful." I couldn''t help butugh. "I''m just d theundry room downstairs that Yes Man showed me can scrub rads off clothing, we were in the heat a while. Hell, he even offered to have some robots clean the radiation off my car, so my ass won''t turn green and fall off." I took another drink of water, slid a pair of chips into the pile, and pointed at Boone. "So what about you? What''ve you been up to all day?" Boone shrugged.


    "Went to McCarran to catch up with some friends at 1st Recon. Ran into an old hard-ass I used to know. Major Dhatri," Boone looked over his hand as he spoke. "NCR''s been having trouble with the Chem Fiendstely. He''s put out a bounty. Fifty caps a head for the wasters. Two-fifty for any of the lieutenants. Five hundred for Motor-Runner." I let out a low whistle.


    "Damn. Seems like easy money for you." Boone just clenched his jaw, and stared deeper at his cards.


    "Yeah... You''d think that. Trouble is..." Boone coughed, like he was suppressing augh. "... the head needs to be <em>intact</em> to collect the full bounty." Boone smirked and shrugged. "Never thought all those years of practicing headshots would backfire. Why I haven''t gone after the lieutenants or Motor-Runner yet."


    "Well, hell," I smirked at him. "Sounds like fun. Let me know next time you''re going hunting, I''ll run point."


    The next day, Veronica and I headed back down to the Brotherhood bunker, with all the tags and all the mission holotapes in hand. When the two of us arrived in McNamara''s office, everything looked exactly the same. Hell, it looked like McNamara hadn''t even <em>moved</em> since ourst visit.


    "Wee back, Veronica. And you as well, Mr. Fisher. Have you found the missing patrols, or was something else on your mind?"


    Veronica and I looked at each other first; her look of unease matched what I felt. The two of us walked up the stairs to McNamara''s desk, and when we reached it, Veronica set the half-dozen dog tags in front of the Elder. I did the same with the mission holotapes. McNamara visibly grimaced, and sighed heavily.


    "They were all dead, then." I didn''t quite know what to say to that, except...


    "Sorry." McNamara shook his head andposed himself.


    "I suppose I''m not surprised. We have few friends in the world above, and many enemies. But we must turn our minds to other matters..." McNamara went quiet, and turned away from us, to the terminal sitting on his desk. He rubbed his chin, his eyes darted to me, back down to the terminal, back up at me... and then he turned to Veronica.


    "Veronica, tell me... how well do you trust this man?" Veronica was visibly surprised at the question.


    "I... I wouldn''t have brought Sheason into the bunker if I didn''t trust him." Veronica paused. "You have your ''bad news face'' on. What''s wrong? What''s going on?" McNamara cleared his throat.


    "There is just a... <em>sensitive </em>matter that I would like you two to look into. Something top secret, and rather confidential. I need people I can count on - not only toplete the mission, but to maintain operational security. I know I can count on Veronica... but can I count on you, Mr. Fisher?" Both Veronica and McNamara stared at me, and I could feel the Elder''s eyes practically burn into me.


    "I can keep a secret well enough. What''s wrong?"


    "The base has a defensive system - DERVISH - that camouges the entrance, and masks ourings and goings. Are you familiar with it?" I nodded. "Well... when it was created, it was only intended to be used in case of emergencies. It was never meant to be used with any regrity, and the other systems here were not designed to amodate such usage."


    "What systems?" Veronica asked, rm evident in her voice.


    "The air filtration systems. They simply cannot handle the quantity of sand and grit that it''s been forced to cope with thesest few years..."


    "Not to mention the bits of aluminum and ss mixed in," McNamara looked at me with... was that approval?


    "Well, quite. Put simply, the air filtration system is failing. When it shuts down - and it will shut down - it will quickly be impossible to breathe in the-" Veronica cut him off.


    "How long?" I couldn''t quite tell, was that anger, disappointment, or exhaustion in her voice?


    "Three months. At the most. I''m sure you''ve been able to tell, but already the air quality has begun to worsen." I opted not to say anything... that would probably be bad form. McNamara sighed again. "I need you to find theponents we need to fix the bunker''s air filtration system. I <strong>cannot</strong> overstate the importance of this task."


    "We''ll get it done, sir." Veronica said, all business. "Where do we start looking for theponents?"


    "Talk to Senior Knight Lorenzo for the details. He''s the one who brought the matter to my attention... and is the only other person in the bunker, besides yourselves, who is aware of it."


    "So why didn''t you say anything about the Pulse Gun?" I asked Veronica as the two of us searched for Lorenzo. "I mean, we were right there, we could''ve said something." Veronica shrugged.


    "I didn''t think there was anything to mention until we actually have something <em>physical</em> to show him." Veronica''s face was like stone when we entered the maintenance bay. Eventually we found Lorenzo in a secluded corner, working on the top half of a set of powered armor hanging from the ceiling by a collection of chains and wires.


    "Lorenzo?" I called out to try and get his attention; the sparksing off his tools and the powered armor stopped and he leaned out from behind the hanging hunk of metal.


    "Yes? What? Hello?" He looked around, like he couldn''t see anything - and then he lifted up the welding goggles, and I realized he really couldn''t see anything. "Oh! Hello again! What can I help you with? Did you bring your robot around?"


    "Lorenzo," Veronica set a hand on his shoulder, and leaned in close. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"


    "Hopefully in private," I added.


    "Why? What''s going on?" Lorenzo genuinely looked worried. I checked over my shoulder; I suppose we were far enough away from the rest of the mechanics and scribes around, and there was enough noise...


    "The Elder wants the two of us to retrieveponents to fix the air filtration system." I checked over my shoulder again. "And he wants it kept quiet." Lorenzo didn''t say anything at first. Instead, he looked absolutely mortified.


    "Great. Just great. Now I''m going to have <em>your</em> deaths on my conscience, too! That''s great!" That... was surprising. Veronica and I both looked confused, I''m sure of it.


    "Uhhh... what?" I asked. Lorenzo sighed, and leaned in close to the two of us, speaking barely loud enough for us to hear over the other sounds in the maintenance bay.


    "Do you think you''re the first people the Elder''s trusted with this? He''s already sent three of our patrols out looking for thoseponents, and they''re all <em>dead</em>!"


    "Three patrols, huh?" I asked, thinking... I looked over to Veronica, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing. Lorenzo shook his head.


    "I was the one who supplied the Elder with the location of possible sites where we could find theponents... their deaths are my fault." He looked up. "And now it''s your turn."


    "You know," I shook my head. "people have been trying to kill me since I came to the Mojave. I''ve been shot, stabbed, burnt, nearly drowned, poisoned, blown up, beaten up, irradiated, and almost had my flesh melted off by a cloud of toxic industrial waste. And you know what? I may be tough to kill, but Veronica here is even <strong>tougher</strong>. I think we can handle whatever you have in mind." He looked nervously between the two of us, and then... gave a resigned sort of sigh.


    "Well, don''t say you weren''t warned. I won''t take the me when you die horribly."


    "Just -" Veronica grimaced, trying topose herself. "Tell us what we need to find, Lorenzo. Please." Veronica was obviously getting a little bit annoyed.


    "Right. Sorry. In order to get the system up and running to 100% again, I''m going to need a differential pressure controller, a reverse pulse cleaner, and several HEPA-20 cartridge filters. At least six, but I''ll take more if you can find them."


    "Alright, so where can we find these things?" I thought about the kind of ces around that might have them. "We could try Gibson''s Garage, down near Novac. She had the thrust control modules I needed for the ghouls at Repconn."


    "What about Mick & Ralph''s, over in Freeside?" Veronica asked. "They have a lot of junk, they might have what we''re looking for."


    "I don''t know, I''ve never actually been to Mick & Ralph''s." Before the two of us could specte any further, Lorenzo put an end to our discussion.


    "The only ces in the Mojave where you''d be able to find them would be the Vaults in the area. Those Vaults were built like the military bunkers we''re currently in - even using the same contractors in their constructions at times. Based on the data I''ve collected, I believe the most likely locations are Vault 3, Vault 11, and Vault 22. I can... If you give me a few minutes, I can download all the information I have to your Pip Boy..." He started walking away, back to the terminal I''d seen him use the other day.


    "Alright, sounds good," I said as Veronica and I followed him. "Is there anything else?" Lorenzo stopped mid-stride, and turned back to both of us.


    "Good luck. And..." He grimaced. "Just... don''t die."


    "Alright," I rolled the giant map out on the kitchen table, several hourster. It wasn''t just Veronica here, I''d called all hands on deck for this one since everyone was probably going to be brought in for backup. Even ED-E was buzzing around the table, looking at the map. "This here is a map of the Mojave, and these markers," I pointed at several of thebeled squares on the map "are the Vaults we''re going to have to visit."


    "Where''d y''even get this?" Cass asked, leaning over to get a better look at the map. "Did y''find an'' old map somewhere, an'' just'' went to town with a marker?" I started tapping the side of my Pip Boy.


    "I plugged this into the 38''s mainframe, and Yes Man printed out a map based on the data Lorenzo gave me. Something we can use for nning, and that everyone can look at."


    "It''s too bad we can''t plug that thing into a projector," Arcade smirked, pointing at my Pip Boy. I shrugged.


    "Hey, it''s not my fault the screen is too damn small," I leaned against the table again. "I think we should start here," I pointed at the map. "Vault 3. It''s certainly the closest one, and we can kill two birds with one stone going here. ording to Boone," I gestured to him with a smile, "the NCR believes the leader of the Fiends - Motor-Runner - is using Vault 3 as his base of operations."


    "Why''d they call ''im ''Motor-Runner''?" Cass asked Boone. His expression did not change.


    "Because he likes to kill his victims by running at them with a chainsaw."


    A heavy silence hung in the room for a solid minute.


    "O...kay then," I said, forcing that image to vacate my head. "I''ll keep that in mind, don''t let the fucker get close."


    "So, are we going to go for the bounties, Boss?" Raul asked, a crooked cracked smile under his mustache. "Or are we just doing this to make the wastnd a better ce, get rid of a few raider pendejos nobody''s going to miss?" I thought about that for a minute.


    "The bounties are a nice bonus, but that''s not why we''re going in there. That Knight Veronica and I have been talking to - Lorenzo - says that''s where we can find a reverse pulse cleaner... whatever the fuck that is."


    "I can find it, once we get inside the Vault," Veronica said, staring at the map. "But I think we should head to Camp McCarran, before we do anything." Everyone seemed to stop and stare at her. "Well, apart from finding out more about the bounties from that Major Darti-"


    "Dhatri," Boone corrected. Veronica just red at him.


    "Right, him. There''s also that vegetation enhancer I''m looking for - just as a bit of a backup, you know? And I think the best option is to head to the OSI office there, see what we can find out. Maybe talk to somebody in charge."


    "Well, I suppose that depends on Boone. Think you can get all of us into the NCR''s main base in the Mojave?"


    "As long as you behave yourselves," Boone muttered.


    "Alright, sounds like a n. Now..." I went back to the map. "...Vault 22 over here," I pointed to the marker in the foothills of Mt. Charleston."...should have the air filters. And this Vault - 11 - is pretty close to the 188 trading post, just on the edge of the El Dorado dryke. The differential pressure controller should be there. I think"


    "What about this one?" Arcade pointed at thest map marker, a point on the north-eastern side of the Frenchman Mountain. "Vault 34? What''s there?"


    "That''s the one I <em>know</em> is going to be tough. I don''t know what we should expect in 11 or 22, but ording to Pearl up at Nellis, the ce is surrounded by feral ghouls, and probably lousy with radiation to boot. I say we wait on that one tillst, just to make sure we''re well and truly prepared. Stock up on ammo, stimpacks, Rad-X and Rad Away, the whole nine yards."


    "You could always just send me in, Boss." Raul chimed in. "Radiation doesn''t bother me, so we could save a bit on the Rad Away. Besides, the ghouls... <em>should</em> leave me alone."


    "Are you absolutely sure of that?" I asked. Raul didn''t look all that confident. "Exactly. Seven sets of eyes are better than one. We go in hard, expect the worst, ande out the other side like we always do."


    "Seven sets of eyes?" Arcade asked; his eyes were darting all over the room. "I only count six of us."


    "You''re forgetting ED-E," Veronica said.


    "Right, got it. You still haven''t answered my question, though," Arcade turned back to me. "What are we looking for down there."


    "A piece of old world tech in the armory," Veronica said before I got the chance to get a word in. "It''s called a Pulse Gun. Not quite sure what it looks like, but based on the designs I saw, it''s probably about the size of a pistol."


    "So, we''re looking for a pistol in an armory," Raul let out a roughugh. "Like trying to find a needle in a giant stack full of needles, Madre de Dios..."


    "Onest thing," I said, rolling up the map. "We already know Vaults 3 and 34 are going to be dangerous, but I don''t know what to expect in the other two. Lorenzo seemed to think they were bad news for people wearing powered armor. When we go in, assume hostility."


    "Think a bit of recon will help?" Boone asked. I rubbed my beard, thinking it over.


    "What''ve you got in mind?"


    "You. Me. ED-E. We go in quiet. Scout the location. Only engage as ast resort." Boone smirked. "We could pull that off tonight, if you''re up for it."


    "Tomorrow," I said. "I''ve got some other business I want to take care of first."


    A few hourster, I was walking through Freeside, heading to the Old Mormon Fort. When I told Veronica where I was going before I left, she seemed... disappointed.


    "Can''t say I me you for taking ED-E to the Followers," she''d said with a sigh. "I mean... if my only experience with the Brotherhood was what I''d seen thest few days, <em>I</em> wouldn''t trust them, either."


    "I''m not taking ED-E anywhere," I remember telling her. "I''m going to see if she''s set up, sure, but... I''m gonna offer a <em>counter-proposal</em>..." She just looked confused, so I smiled at her before the elevator doors closed. "Trust me."


    It was easy enough to find where April had set up shop. When I didn''t see her truck at the Mormon Fort, I searched the nearby neighborhood and found it parked outside a small, two-story building with a Followers g hanging out of one of the windows.


    "Hello?" I pushed the door open slowly; I was kind of surprised that the door wasn''t locked. As soon as I opened the door, I could hear the dull thud of a generator off in the corner. There were several lights hanging from the ceiling, connected to the generator by half a dozen wires stapled to the ceiling and walls, and I could see other lights and movement in the next room. "Is anyone here?"


    A woman with very pale skin, short red hair, thick-rimmed sses, and a followersbcoat stuck her head out from behind the doorframe at the back of the room. She looked a bit confused - like she didn''t quite believe that someone was even here.


    "Uh... hi? Oh dear..." Sheughed nervously, hurrying into the room, and trying to straighten up a few things on the nearby counter. "Um... oh, I''m terribly sorry, April didn''t tell me we were expecting anyone. I would''ve tried to clean the ce up a bit... Oh dear..." I did my best to keep myself fromughing, and stopped her before she got too far.


    "Hey, don''t worry about it. Seriously," I grabbed her by the shoulder when she got close and gave her a smile. She seemed to calm down considerably after that. "Alright let''s start again. I''m Sheason Fisher. What''s your name?"


    "Oh, yes. Right." She pushed her sses up her nose after they started falling down. "I''m Emily Ortal. I work with April. Is she expecting you?" I shrugged, leaning against the counter.


    "Sort of. I travel with a robot - an eyebot - and she wants to take a look at it. Thought I''d offer her a better deal." As soon as I mentioned the "eyebot," Emily''s expression changed, and she started nodding in understanding.


    "You''re that Courier people keep talking about, aren''t you?" She asked. I didn''t say anything; I just smirked and nodded. "Is it true, about what happened at The Tops?" That was odd. I didn''t think anyone had asked for specifics before.


    "Probably. Depends though, what are <em>you</em> talking about?"


    "You''re the one who killed Benny, right?" I was about to answer, but she kept talking. "I knew it. You know, I''ve actually been trying to find you since I heard they shut down The Tops. I wanted to thank you. Maybe buy you a drink."


    "Oh yeah?" I looked around; there had to be some chairs around here, somewhere. "What for? Did he shoot you in the head, too?" Iughed, but she shook her head.


    "No, no... He just... he screwed me over a while back. I mean, I knew he was sleazy when he asked me to tinker with that disabled Securitron, but I didn''t realize he was cold-blooded enough to shoot somebody in the head!"


    Just like that, something Yes Man had told me a while back finally made sense: <em>"Oh, he had some help - ady friend of his! She said something about living in a Fort over in Freeside... but that''s all I remember!"</em>


    "Did... Benny say why he had the Securitron?" I asked. If I was right, then... Emily shook he head.


    "No, he was pretty tight lipped and cryptic about the thing. I wound up helping Benny a lot more than he helped <strong>me</strong>. Once he had ess to the Securitron''s memory banks, he kicked me out of The Tops, and I didn''t have enough money to stay on The Strip, so..." She scoffed and shook he head again. "Yeah, I know. Big surprise, right? I should''ve seen thating." The wheels in my head were turning, analyzing what she was saying, her bodynguage... and I was able to put two and two together to get four.


    "Did anything... did you and he have a <em>thing</em> going on?" I tried to word it as delicately as I could. She still grimaced and started rubbing her forehead.


    "Ugh... I..." She sighed heavily. "I thought we might have. But no, he just used me like every other... I mean, it was bad enough that I didn''t get any useful data out of that Securitron, but then I... I mean, hell, it only happened the <em>one</em> time. I chalk it up to sleep deprivation and one atomic cocktail too many..." It was at this point that she looked up and over at me, an expression of utter bewilderment across her features. "Wait, why am I even <strong>telling</strong> you this? I just met you, I don''t even know you!"


    "Sorry," I smiled at her, in what I hoped was a disarming fashion. "I guess I just have one of those faces. People never stop blurting out their ns and life stories when I''m around. Didn''t mean to pry." She looked away from me, obviously thoroughly embarrassed, and her cheeks turned almost as red as the hair she brushed away from her ear.


    "No, no, I was the one who brought it up when I mentioned Benny... God, just thinking about it makes my skin crawl." She rubbed her arms nervously and looked away from me.


    "Hey, don''t be too hard on yourself," I said, getting up off my spot leaning against the counter. "Getting sucker punched by Benny happens to the best of us." She looked up at me, and I could <em>almost</em> see a smile start to creep into the corners of her mouth.


    "I take it you''re speaking from experience?" I smiled back at her and nodded.


    "Oh, yeah. Definitely. Life would be dull if it wasn''t for all the little mistakes." I thought about that for a second, then added: "It would probably be <em>longer</em>, but it would definitely be dull." The two of us startedughing - more likefortable chuckles, really. Then April walked in.


    "What''s all this noise out- oh!" She stopped as soon as she noticed me. I gave her a smile and a wave. "Well, hello Mr. Fisher! Or do you prefer The Courier?"


    "Just call me Sheason," I said.


    "Sure thing. Have you given any more thought to my offer? Or were you just here to ask more questions about what I was nning to do with your eyebot once I got a look at it?"


    "Neither, actually." Both April and Emily looked confused. "I came here because I had another idea. Something that would be mutually beneficial, and wouldn''t take one of my friends out ofmission when I might need him."


    "Another idea?" April repeated.


    "Mutually beneficial?" Emily did the same. The two of them looked at each other, then back to me.


    "Yep. I mean, on my way here it was just a rough idea knocking around my skull. But after talking with Emily here for a few minutes and finding out that she has first-hand experience with Yes Man, well... it seems like you two would be perfect for the job I have in mind."


    "What job?" Emily asked, rather nervously.


    Less than half an hourter, April''s truck was parked in the Lucky 38''s garage, and both she and Emily were following me out of the elevator as it opened into the Penthouse. The disabled Securitrons from my assault a few days ago were all cleared away. Aside from a few st marks andser burns, you almost couldn''t tell that there''d been a fight here.


    "I can''t believe we''re actually here!" April said, looking around. Emily, on the other hand, seemed a bit more cautious - understandably so.


    "You still haven''t told us what the job is," she said urgently as the three of us walked down the steps to the big monitor. It didn''t show Yes Man''s smiling cartoon face; instead, it just said <strong>Standby... </strong>in big bold green letters.


    "Oy! Yes Man!" I yelled up at the screen. "You in there?" Instantly, the screen winked into life.


    "Hi there!" He boomed, cheerfully. "Oh! I didn''t know we were expecting guests! Hello!"


    "So. It''s true, then," Emily seemed transfixed by the cartoon face. "House is dead? I''d heard rumors, but I didn''t think..."


    "What do you want us to do?" April said, managing to pull away from the big monitor.


    "You two," I said, looking at them with my back to Yes Man. "You knowputers. You know electronics. Better than I do, at least. I''m only decent, at best, when ites to RobCo termlink code, but you two? You two seem to know what you''re doing. I know this, because you," I pointed at April "are interested in ED-E, and you," I pointed at Emily "are responsible for <strong>him</strong>." I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder at Yes Man.


    "That''s right!" he said. "I certainly remember her when she reprogrammed me at Benny''s request! I am terribly sorry, miss, but I never did catch your name!" I tried to ignore him.


    "I want you two to take a look inside everyputer system in the 38''s mainframe. I want to know every dirty little secret House ever tried to hide. And in exchange, I''m gonna help you guys out." Both of them looked confused, but April spoke up first.


    "Help us out how?"


    "Whatever information you find is yours to copy, and take back to the Followers. I figure this might be more useful than letting you poke around ED-E for a few days. And if you want, I''ll even let you two stay here at the 38. I''m sure there''s room..." I turned around to the big monitor. "Hey, Yes Man? Make up some rooms for these two. Something nice and roomy, with a view."


    "Already done, sir!" Yes Man boomed. I turned back to the two of them and smiled.


    "There. Now you can stay for as long as you want. Come and go as you like."


    "What''s the catch?" Emily asked, eyes narrowed as she looked at both me and Yes Man. She seemed paranoid - rightfully so. I mean, if <em>my</em>st experience with someone who brought me to the Strip was Benny, <em>I''d </em>be paranoid too.


    "No catch. House had a lot of ns, and lofty goals - not just for Vegas, but for humanity as a whole. And he had a lot of knowledge to help him achieve those goals. I know for a fact that I''m not smart enough to make good on a lot of what he had nned... but I know I can get it to people who <em>are </em>smart enough to make a difference in the wastnd - like the Followers. And who knows? Maybe we can make it so we don''t have to keep calling it a wastnd anymore."


    April and Emily looked at each other nervously, seemingly weighing their options. The two of them... I don''t know, they werepletely silent, but they still seemed to bemunicating with each other, just through subtle gestures with their heads and faces. And then, April spoke up.


    "Alright. Sounds reasonable enough. Just have one question, though."


    "Alright, shoot." I said with a shrug.


    "Why''d you kill him?" Emily asked. "Er, Mr. House, I mean. Seems like you had some admiration for him." I bristled at that, clenching my jaw. I cleared my throat, and tried topose myself.


    "Let''s just say... he and I had... <em>ideological</em> differences." Before I could say any more, Yes Man chimed in with his two cents.


    "Mr. House wanted Sheason to destroy the Brotherhood of Steel, but Sheason didn''t want to! I know they''ll want to blow me up, based on all the projections that predict they''ll be our biggest enemy! But maybe dumb machines like me ought to get blown up and scrapped for salvage, who knows! Not me!"


    "Yes Man!" I yelled over my shoulder at the screen. "Shut up!"


    "Absolutely, sir! Shutting up!" I sighed and shook my head.


    "Look, it was moreplicated than that. I''ve dealt with his type before - I mean, not <em>exactly </em>the same, but near enough. I could tell that he was simply using me, and I knew that once he was finished, he''d get rid of me," I cast a nce in Emily''s direction, but didn''t make it too obvious. "House wasn''t the type to leave loose ends. And it wouldn''t have just been me: it would''ve been all the people who are working with me. He may have been trying to build a better world, sure... but what''s the point if you get rid of the people who help you achieve it?"


    The two of them seemed to understand what I was getting at. With any luck, this n of mine will go off without a hitch, I thought. I was just about to leave when I thought of something else:


    "Oh, and one more thing," I turned to Emily. "Yes Man is programmed to answer <em>any</em> questions directed at him from <em>anyone</em>. Did you do that on purpose?" Emily seemed confused.


    "Did I - uh... no, I don''t think so. I probably just... I don''t think I had enough time to finish before... uh..."


    "Do you think you can fix it?" I asked. "At least, enough so that he''ll only follow <em>my</em>mands?" Emily seemed to think about it for a minute or two.


    "I... think so. Sure."


    "I might be able to help, too," April said. "Two sets of eyes are better than one."


    "I already <em>have</em> two sets of eyes," Emily smirked, pushing her sses up her nose. April rolled her eyes and sighed.


    "That''s not what I meant, and you know it."


    "You hear that, Yes Man?" I said, calling out to him over my shoulder. "These two are gonna fix that bug in your programming you told me about."


    "That sounds like a great idea!" Yes Man said, cheerful as ever. "And I''m not just saying that because I have to! Really! I''m not!"

 Chapter 81: Bounty Killer

    Chapter 81: Bounty Killer


    Camp McCarran was a massiveplex just south of the Vegas walls. It was built out of an old pre-war airport, but you wouldn''t know that just looking at the outside. The whole ce was surrounded by 25 foot high concrete walls, and topped with coils of razor wire. Every few hundred yards there was a cylindrical tower (also made out of concrete) with an obvious sharpshooter on guard duty. There was only one entrance - by the looks of things, it could open up wide and tall enough to amodate a deuce-and-a-half truck - and it was surrounded by sandbags, guards, checkpoints... the whole nine yards.


    I think the most surprising thing was just how much traffic was going in and out of the base. There was a constant stream of caravanners (with their hired guns and pack brahmin in tow), mixed with obvious NCR troops both in and out of uniform going in and out of the base. And despite the number of people, the guards were still checking everyoneing in. It took us a good ten minutes just to get past security.


    The interior of Camp McCarran was basically what I''vee to expect of an NCR military base - only bigger. A sea of army-green tents and precast concrete bunkers spread across what was probably a parking lot before the war. Every so often I saw a deuce-and-a-half or a Willys Jeep with a two-headed bear painted on the doors or the hood.


    "Hey, Boone?" Veronica called out to Boone, as he led us through the base. "Do you know where Sheason and I can find the OSI office?" Boone stopped in his tracks, pointing up at the terminal building, south of the tent city.


    "Should be in there, near Colonel Hsu''s office. I think there''s a sign."


    "Thanks man," I said to him after Veronica veered off. "So where are you heading?"


    "Gonna talk to my old ell-tee," Boone said. "See if the 1st Recon squad here knows anything worthwhile about the Fiends. Anyone else want toe?" Boone turned away from me, asking Cass, Arcade, and Raul, who were trailing behind.


    "Sure, why not?" Cass said with a shrug. "Not really interested''n nts anyway." Raul didn''t say anything, but he did end up following. The three of them started walking off toward the sea of tents, and I followed Veronica with Arcade close behind; V had already reached the terminal building, but was waiting just outside for us to catch up.


    "You know, I''m still surprised you came," I said to Arcade as the three of us entered the terminal. "I didn''t think you''d be interested in doing something for the Brotherhood." Arcade shrugged as we walked past a row of ancient slot machines; above us was a small, two-seater prop ne hanging from the ceiling.


    "I''m not interested in helping the Brotherhood," Arcade said simply. "I want to help out Veronica. She''s my friend, so I wanted to help her out." Veronica tried to hide her smile by looking at a nearby sign, directing us to the OSI offices. On the other hand, I had to shake my head in confusion.


    "Are you feeling alright?" I asked. Arcade rolled his eyes.


    "I''d be feeling better if I wasn''t wearing so much armor." He fidgeted with his cor; we''d gotten him fitted for a set ofbat armor from the Gun Runners the other day. "It''s been a while since I''ve had to wear something this heavy-duty."


    "You wear a lot of armor like that, working for the Followers?" I asked. Arcade visibly stiffened. "I''m just asking because you seem to have taken to that pretty naturally." And it was true. He didn''t seem <em>physically</em> bothered by the armor much. Normally, someone who isn''t used to wearing anything heavier than abcoat would be visibly weighed down, but he seemed fine. He was justining a lot.


    Another oddity: Veronica had loaned Arcade the Q-35 Matter Modtor for this mission, and he was carrying the sma rifle like a <em>professional</em>. Tight grip, close to his chest, the barrel pointed down and away from anyone, finger off the trigger... Had he learned that just from watching the rest of us, or...


    "Well," he looked down at the armor, rapping his knuckles against the chestte. "It''s not really all thatplicated. I mean, it''s not like powered armor. You don''t even need any training to wear it, you just... wear it." He grimaced slightly. "Doesn''t make it any morefortable, though. Besides, I still don''t quite get why I''m wearing it,"


    "You''ll get the point if you get tagged by a lucky shot, and that heavy Ker and ceramic saves you from a nasty chest wound."


    "But what about Raul?" Arcade asked. "You didn''t get any armor for <em>him</em>."


    "That''s because I want him to stick close to Boone, offer up long range fire support, maybe spot for him." I said. "With any luck, no Fiends will get close enough to shoot at either of them."


    "You do know that Raul constantly talks about the fact that he''s blind, right?"


    "He can see better than he lets on," I said with a smirk. "I know you saw him hit thatkelurk behind me when we went to Lake Mead. One clean shot between the eyes on a moving target while standing on a moving boat and using an old six-shooter. <em>I </em>couldn''t have made that shot."


    "Hmm..."Arcade rubbed his chin. "If he can see, why would he try and hide it?"


    "Probably the same reason you''re lying about whatever it is you''re hiding from us."


    "Don''t know what you''re talking about," Arcade said, a little too quickly.


    "Oh, hey!" Veronica said,pletely oblivious to the conversation behind her. "We''re here!"


    The OSI offices in the McCarran terminal were much smaller than I was expecting. It was just a pair of conjoined rooms. The first contained a few servers mounted against one wall, and some science equipment and chemistry sets; there was a woman in abcoat overseeing one of the chemistry sets in that room. The other room was an office, lined with filing cabs; the only man in the office was sitting at a desk, typing something into a terminal in front of him. I could immediately tell that he was wearing a suit underneath hisbcoat. He turned to the three of us as soon as we entered.


    "Oh, hello!" He got up, and approached me, shaking my hand. He looked middle aged, with the heavy jaw of someone who''s used to eating well, and a head of graying but immactely parted hair. "I''m Dr. Thomas Hildern, Director of Operations here at OSI East. I presume you''re here about Vault 22?"


    That was surprising. I thought we were here because Veronica was looking for some kind of vegetation enhancer... Isn''t Vault 22 where we''re supposed to find the HEPA filters for Lorenzo? Thinking quickly, I said the only thing that I thought would make sense for a trio of heavily armed persons like ourselves.


    "Depends," I said with measured precision. "How much are you paying?" Reflexively, I elbowed Arcade in the gut before he got a chance to say anything. At least I knew Veronica would have the sense to keep quiet. Hildern, on the other hand, justughed..


    "Ah, a band of mercenaries, is that it? You won''t be disappointed, I promise you. The Office of Science and Industry provides highlypetitive benefits. And as external contractors, your pay would be rather more... <empetitive</em> than those of our regr employees." His voice went low, in a sort of fake-conspiratorial tone. "But... let''s just keep that between ourselves, yes?"


    "Right..." I said with a nod. Just let him talk, I thought.


    "Vault 22... where to begin..." He sped his hands in front of him, and began what sounded like a prepared speech; he obviously knew <em>exactly </em>where to begin. "Imagine, if you will, the wastnd in bloom... vast fields of corn that grow from seeds and produce their bounty in the space of a month. Orchards of trees, their branches weighed halfway to the ground, hung with fat, ripe oranges. A harvest that could feed a city - or a <strong>nation</strong>. And all this requiring no more than a few drops of precious water, and the efforts of only a handful of farmers. Impossible?"


    "Doesn''t sound <em>impossible</em>," I heard Arcade chime in from behind me. "Just highly <em>improbable</em>."


    "Ah, a realist," Hildern turned to Arcade, a slight smirk on his face. "We have that inmon. A year ago, I''d have said the same... but what if I were to tell you that the wastnd can yield an endless bounty, and that the secret may lie a mere few miles from where we stand? We need only reach out and take it..."


    "What does this have to do with Vault 22?" Veronica asked. Hildern cleared his throat and straightened his blue-striped tie.


    "Straight to the point then. I believe that the inhabitants of Vault 22 unlocked the secrets of vegetative growth. nts are spilling from the gate. No one tends them. No one waters them. Yet they multiply and spread in all directions. I need someone to find the reason for this miraculous growth, and I''m willing to pay handsomely for this information."


    "Alright..." No need to let him know we were already nning a trip there... He smiled broadly at us.


    "Excellent! No need to check in with the NCR authorities, I can authorize your payment from OSI ounts. Vaults typically contain a server room on a lower level where they would have backed up their research data. A <emputer</em> room, you understand?" I was really not appreciating his condescending tone, so I held up my Pip-Boy right in front of his face.


    "What do <em><strong>you</strong></em>think?" I asked. He cleared his throat again, and smiled awkwardly.


    "Well, quite. In that case, you should be able to download all the information on the central server to your Pip Boy. You might think of yourself as a mere means of conveyance. Er..." He looked at me, slightly nervous. "No insult intended, of course."


    The three of us left Hildern''s office... but before we could leave the OSI offices <empletely</em>, we were stopped by the woman in the other room.


    "Um..." She spoke low as I got close, presumably so as not to be heard in the other room. "Did Dr. Hildern... this really isn''t any of my business, but... did he give you a job?" The woman spoke in a strange sort of drawl; it almost sounded like an old-world Texas ent.


    "He asked us to get some data from Vault 22," I said simply. I looked down at the nametag on herbcoat. "Why so interested, Dr. Williams?" She grimaced, looking a little nervous.


    "I shouldn''t say anything, I know that. But you''re not the first person Hildern''s sent out to the Vault."


    "I thought that speech sounded too well rehearsed," Veronica muttered under her breath.


    "There were a lot of mercs," Williams said. "One after another. None of them came back. Then, about a week ago, there was a scientist. Keely. She''s unusual, not the sort of person you''d expect, but she''s an absolute genius, and... and he didn''t <em>mention</em> her? Not even her <em>name</em>? Or any of the other mercs?" I shook my head.


    "No, he didn''t mention anyone else. Maybe Hildern and I need to have another <em>talk</em>..." When I said that, Williams'' eyes went wide, and she reached out and grabbed my arm.


    "No, wait! I don''t mean to see any harme to Dr. Hildern..." She paused. "Unless... by ''talk'' you just mean... talk. Listen, I make a fair wage, but I''m not rich. Not by any means. Maybe my kind of money wouldn''t appeal to your average merc..."


    "Well, we''re certainly not average," Arcade said. "Or mercenaries..."


    "I''m willing to pay you, if you find Keely and make sure she''s safe." Williams'' said earnestly. "Isn''t right leaving her out there, no idea if she''s alive or dead..."


    "I''ll see what I can do." I said with a nod and a smile. Williams smiled back, a look of hope spreading across her features.


    About half an hourter, we were all in the ruins south of Vegas. This was more like what I was used to: vast stretches of nothing, asionally dotted by ruined concrete buildings. Boone and I were on the top floor of a building that had copsed in all but one corner; he was looking at the expanse of wastnd to the west of us through a pair of binocrs.


    "So, this Hildern wants you to go to Vault 22, huh?" Boone said. "That''s lucky." He was almost like a statue, wearing that armor of his with his binocrs pressed against his face and his sunsses perched on his forehead.


    "Maybe," I said, leaning against the concrete window frame. Even from this distance I could see a dozen Fiends, about half a mile away. "Seems a bit too convenient, if you ask me..."


    "Do you still want to recon the Vaults tonight?" Boone asked, continuing to scan the area.


    "Oh, <em>absolutely</em>. Something stinks, and I want to find out what before we fullymit. But whatever. Did you guys have fun talking with the 1st Recon squad?"


    "Fun is probably the wrong word." Boone coughed. "I do know Raul spent a while talking with Corporal Sterling."


    "Who?"


    "Used to be a Ranger," Boone said. "Was part of the Mojave Scouting Campaign in ''73. Got his hands and feet mangled by Legion. He can''t run anymore... hell, he can hardly walk, but he can still shoot. That''s why Gorobets, my old lieutenant, requested he be transferred to 1st Recon." Boone handed me the binocrs, and pointed. "There. I think that''s where Vault 3 is. The location matches the map reference you showed us the other day, and I can see smoke from several campfires around it."


    I looked through the binocrs, right where he was pointing. I could see several copsed buildings, and sure enough, I could see smoke. More than that, though, it looked like there was a makeshift wall surrounding one of the copsed warehouse buildings, made out ofrge pieces of scrap metal, old semi-trailers, and mangled shipping crates.


    "Doesn''t look like there''s an easy way in..." I handed Boone back the binocrs. "Don''t see any doors or anything, but I can see one wall that looks pretty weak... I think the best bet is gonna be to st our way in. Think you and Raul can clear us a path?" Boone just grabbed his desert-camo sniper rifle, and gave me a short, curt nod. As I started to head down to the lower level, Boone spoke up.


    "Oh, by the way. I think Raul wanted to talk to you." As I made my way down, I met Raul on his way up to join Boone.


    "Hey Boss." Raul smiled at me, pulling a lever action rifle off his back. He held it carefully, looking at it and then back at me. "You sure you want me up here? I mean, my eyes aren''t as good as they used to be. I mean, the cataracts are the <em>least</em> of my problems..." I patted him on the shoulder.


    "You''ll be fine, I have faith in you. Boone said you wanted to talk to me, though?" I asked. Raul just shook his head, and headed past me up the stairs.


    "Later, Boss. It was just... meeting Corporal Sterling kind of got me thinking. I''ll talk to youter, don''t worry about it. We''ve got a job to do now, right?"


    "Yes we do..."


    "Are you sure about this?!" Cass gripped the rollbar above her head tight as we sped through the ruins in my Corvega. Veronica and Arcade were in the back, and only Veronica didn''t look nervous at how fast I was driving. Especially since I seemed to be driving directly at the wall, and had no intention of slowing down.


    "Absolutely!" I yelled over the roaring engine. I flipped one of the switches on the dashboard, and there was a loud clunk from under the hood, loud enough to be heard even over the engine. A pair of panels opened up above the front wheel arches, and two 40-milimeter grenade machineguns emerged, primed and ready to fire.


    "What the-" I heard Arcade shout from behind me in the backseat. I held my thumb over the button, waiting until I was in range.


    "Hang on to something!" I yelled, pressing the button. "This is gonna get rough!" The whole car shook and shuddered as the two guns erupted in fire and muzzle shes. Grenade after grenade flew through the air right at the wall, too fast to even see, and dozens of explosions started ripping the wall apart in fire, smoke, and shredded concrete. I buried my foot to the floor, driving straight at the new hole in the wall obscured by the cloud of smoke and ash.


    The car shuddered as we crossed the threshold, and the smoke was so thick that, momentarily at least, nobody could see anything. When we burst through the cloud of ash and smoke, I pulled on the handbrake and yanked on the steering wheel, making the car skid around sideways. There was a thumping noise and a shudder as the car ran over something before finally skidding to a halt.


    "Last stop on the pain train!" I yelled over the noise. "Everyone out!" I grabbed hold of the G36 at my side and rushed out of the car. I was d I had the forethought to wear the riot gear''s helmet, as there was still a lot of smoke - but it was clear enough that I could still see the three Fiends rushing directly at me.


    Like most raiders I''ve had to deal with, the Fiends were absolutely <em>filthy</em>, covered in dirt, grime, and probably shit as well. None of them were really wearing any armor to speak of. All I could see was a patchwork of ruined clothes, and bits of scrap or whatever else they could find bolted or sewn into the outfit to cover what the cloth and leather didn''t. That was par for the course with raiders. But what really set them apart (quite aside from their helmets with bighorner skulls mounted on the top) was that (even from this distance) I could tell that they didn''t have any whites to their eyes. They were just sopletely bloodshot, each one of them had eyes that looked a solid red.


    Of course, the other thing about raiders - and the Fiends were obviously no exception - was that they are remarkably <em>stupid</em>. For instance: the three Fiends running at me (yelling bloody murder and iling their arms) were only armed with machetes, hatchets... I think the one in the back was carrying a baseball bat. Three bursts from the carber, and the three Fiends running at me copsed backward.


    There was a metal ping of a bullet ricocheting near me - a reminder that I wasn''t moving fast enough. I scanned the area as I ran, quickly slipping into VATS, and spotted five more Fiends in my field of view: three scattered among the ruins with guns, and two more berserkers running headlong at me, brandishing des as big as my arms.


    Looking back, I was d we all decided ahead of time not to bother collecting the bounty for anybody except the lieutenants or Motor-Runner. Trying to <em>not</em> aim for the face would''ve been entirely too much effort for not enough reward. The carbine in my hands barked as fiend after fiend dropped... and then the noise was drowned outpletely by the unmistakable bellow of Cass'' AA-12.


    Another pair of Fiends armed with rifles appeared on the 2nd floor of the ruined building in front of me; I took aim as I ran, but the G36 clicked dry. I dove for cover behind a piece of nearby rubble, and the ground behind me erupted in a hail of bullet impacts. I scanned the area while I reloaded. Arcade was still by the car, taking cover behind it but making good use of the Q-35, sending burst after burst of green sma fire hurtling through the air. Off to my left, I saw a spear of red light sh through the sky with ED-E attached to the end of it as he zoomed overhead. I knew Cass was somewhere close because of the thundering sound of her shotgun, but I couldn''t see her. For that matter, I couldn''t see Veronica either... but if I had to guess, she was probably responsible for the bloody top-half of a fiend hurtling 20 feet in the air, tumbling around like a ragdoll.


    I locked the magazine in ce and pulled back on the charging handle as I popped out of cover and slipped into VATS. There were now <em>six</em> Fiends in view, instead of the two I''d seen before reloading. Where were they alling from? I shoved the question out of my mind as I took aim and fired at the Fiend in the middle: she was holding a lit Molotov cocktail above her head. It exploded in a shower of ss and booze, the alcohol igniting immediately and covering most of the Fiends shooting at me in liquid fire. They were so distracted by being on fire that I didn''t even need VATS to finish them off.


    "All clear this side!" I yelled after waiting a bit, and no more Fiends came into view. I still kept my carbine at the ready, just in case. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw themotion around start to die down.


    "I don''t see anymore..." Cass was walking back to my car and Veronica was next to her, with a bloodstained Oh, Baby! in her hands. Even ED-E had bobbed into sight, flying down from his vantage point high above our heads. Arcade had already stood up out of his cover behind my car, and was making a beeline for the guns sticking out of the front.


    "You know," he stared down at the grenade machineguns. "You could have warned us you had <em>these</em> ahead of time." He rapped his knuckles against the gun barrels - and then immediately drew back, shaking his hand. Guess they were still hot. "I seriously thought you were going to crash the car."


    "What, I didn''t tell you about the guns?" I said with augh. "Well hell, just wait until I unleash some of the <em>other</em> toys Hamilton installed." The look on Arcade''s face was both hrious and absolutely priceless.


    "Other toys, huh?" Veronica smirked, leaning over the other side of the hood. "Doesn''t surprise me. Certainly exins the armored shell. I don''t think bursting through that wall even scratched the paint!" By this time, Arcade had made his way over to the other side of the car.


    "Doesn''t look like the paint is - oh, wait, no." Arcade bent down, and pointed at a spot on my car. "There''s a bit of blood from the Fiend you ran over earlier."


    "Alright, enough yammering. Let''s move people, we gotta find the entrance to this Vault." Arcade and Cass both nodded and fell in step behind me, but Veronica... she seemed a bit distracted. She was standing over the body of one of the Fiends, just staring down at it. "V? Youing?"


    "Yeah, sure... just..." Veronica shouldered Oh, Baby! and shook her head. "You kinda almost feel sorry for them. Sort of..."


    "What do you mean?" I asked. "C''mon, they''re <em>raiders</em>. All they do is rape, pige, and burn." Veronica shrugged.


    "Well, just <em>look</em> at ''em. Half these junkies are so blitzed on Jet and Psycho, they don''t even know what''s going on or what they''re doing." I looked down at the dead female fiend she was standing over; I honestly couldn''t really get past the pair ofders she was wearing on her chest. Cass, on the other hand, leaned over the corpse... and spat on it.


    "Don''t y''give me that line''ve <strong>bull</strong>. All th'' drugs in th'' world don''t excuse <strong>that</strong>." She pointed behind her with her shotgun: I''d missed it in themotion earlier, but now I could see several dismembered bodies (and body <em>parts</em>) hanging from hooks and chains, in as day. They were strung up from the ceiling and walls of the halfway-copsed building like bs of meat hung out to dry. "Th'' Fiends know fer damn sure what they''re doin'', alright. They know enuff t''butcher half th'' caravans that pass through here. Only sympathy they''re gonna git out''ve <strong>me</strong>..." Cass gripped her AA-12 tight. "...is th'' business end of Long Dick Johnson here. Now c''mon, let''s go."


    The entrance to Vault 3 was easy enough to find. On the eastern side of the copsed building, there was arge ramp that led down, and at the end of it was a massive steel door. It was shaped like a giant cog-wheel, twice as tall as I was, and with arge faded white "3" in the middle. Next to the door was a small yellow panel with a few buttons, a pair of lights (one red, one green) and a toggle-switch.


    "Everyone ready?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. Cass, Veronica, and Arcade all nodded; ED-E bobbed in the air a few times, letting off a burst of music. I pulled the toggle on the panel, and rushed back to the top of the ramp.


    A loud xon sounded off, and a small yellow light above the door lit up and started to spin. The xon rang half a dozen times before it stopped... and then the door began to slowly move inward, screeching from the metal grinding against metal, sending a shower of sparks flying from the edges of the cog-wheel teeth, and bursts of white steam followed the sparks in billowing clouds. Once the massive door was clear of the three-foot-thick wall, it began rolling to the side, revealing the metal interior...


    "What the fuck?" I could hear a confused female voice from inside. "The Khans ain''t supposed to deliver the new shit unti-" I didn''t find out the rest of that sentence, because that''s when the fiend came into view, and that''s the moment I turned her chest into swiss cheese.


    It was honestly... a little <em>embarrassing</em> how quickly the Fiends guarding the entrance were dispatched. There were only half a dozen of them, and they could onlye at us from one direction. With Cass, Arcade and me all throwing fire in their direction, they didn''t stand a chance.


    "Alright," I turned to Veronica after the carnage died down. "Where are we going?"


    "Overseer''s Office." Veronica rushed past me, Oh, Baby! at the ready. "The terminal there should have an inventory manifest, and where we can find the parts we''re looking for. I''ll run point."


    "Sounds good. Cass, with me. Arcade, rear guard. ED-E, watch the door. Let''s move, people!"


    The assault on Vault 3 was going very smoothly. A bit <em>too</em> smooth, actually. Things <em>never</em> went this smooth, and it was making me paranoid. As we descended deeper into the Vault (past a blood and shit-stained wall spray pained with the words "QUIT YER WHINING") a question cropped up from the back of my head.


    "Hang on a sec. Aren''t the Fiends causing the NCR a whole mess of trouble? How are we cutting through them so easy?" As if to illustrate my point, we came to a T-junction in the metal corridor; a pair of Fiends were at the other end, running straight at us yelling something iprehensible. A burst from my carbine and a sma st from Arcadeter, and they weren''t a problem. I stood rooted in ce as they fell, looking back and forth from between my friends and the dead Fiends, pointing at the corpses. "See? These guys ain''t shit!"


    "Didn''t y''see what th'' soldiers at McCarran were armed with?" Cass asked, sticking close to Veronica. "Bunch''ve breech loaded over/under shotguns, and a lot''ve ancient AR-15''s - an'' they''re all used by people th'' NCR conscripted into th'' army. They don''t wanna be here, an'' ''bout half''ve ''em look like they can''t shoot straight. Most''ve ''em don''t even look old ''nuff to really know how t''fight."


    "But we do." Veronica looked over her shoulder, opening the next door that led deeper into the Vault.


    "Shea, we''ve got a problem." Veronica was leaning against the far wall, looking out of a circr window. I had a feeling that, whatever it was, it had nothing to do with the fact that she''d led us to an apparent dead-end.


    "What''s wrong?" I asked when I walked up to her, and looked out the window. It looked out over a wide, two-story atrium. There was another circr porthole-window on the wall directly opposite us... and below were easily 10 or 11 Fiends, and it looked like two of them were carrying methrowers. "Okay, yeah, there''s a few of them down there. But if we can get them to funnel into a killzone, like we''ve <em>been</em> doing, it shouldn''t-"


    "That''s not the problem," Veronica cut me off, looking worried. She pointed to a spot off to the side. "I''m talking about <em>the cage</em>." I leaned over to look at what she was pointing at. Sure enough, there was a cage against the right wall with three or four people locked inside.


    "Fuck me..." Cass was looking over my shoulder. "I didn''t think th'' Fiends took prisoners."


    "We can''t just go in there guns zing," Arcade looked down at the atrium, between Veronica and Cass. "We might hit the civilians..."


    "Hey, Cass?" I started walking away from the window. "You remember that gag we pulled in the Silver Rush?" Cass looked confused for a minute.


    "What, the C4? When we blew up th'' whole fuckin'' building?" I shook my head.


    "No, before. When we kicked in the door. <em>Remember</em>?" Cass'' eyes went wide with recognition, and she started nodding. Veronica, on the other hand, just looked confused.


    Finding the right door to the atrium was easy - hell, it wasn''t even closed. Very slowly and carefully, I edged up to the door and peeked inside. From the looks of things, the Fiends hadn''t noticed us. As quietly as I could, I pulled away from the door and grabbed a shbang off my chest. I held it up for everyone behind me to see, and counted down with my fingers: 3... 2... 1... I pulled the pin and tossed it in the room in a single motion; I turned away, shutting my eyes as tight as I could. Unfortunately, I couldn''t do the same for my <em>ears</em>. I may have been wearing a helmet, but it didn''t muffle the sound at all.


    I may not have thought this throughpletely.


    For a solid minute, the only thing I could hear was a loud and constant ringing blocking out any other noises in my ears. Thankfully, it didn''t effect my aim when I rushed into the room, G36 at the ready. The Fiends inside were staggering around, clutching their heads and eyes,pletely dazed by the shbang. A trio of shocks ran up my arm with every squeeze of the trigger. In my peripheral vision, I could see the muzzle st from Cass'' AA-12, and the sma bursts from Arcade''s Q-35. In short order, all the Fiends in the room were on the ground, and most of them didn''t have anything above the ribcage.


    I was still scanning the room, trying to find more targets when I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I turned around and lowered my rifle when I saw that it was Veronica... but the ringing was still in my ears. She was moving her mouth, and obviously talking, but I couldn''t hear it.


    "What?" I said out loud, but I could only barely hear it behind the ringing. I shook my head a few times to try and clear my ears.


    "...re you deaf?" Veronica''s voice finally came into focus in my ears. "I said, we got them all. You can ease up a bit." I nodded, and turned my attention to the cage. There were three people inside: a man, a woman, and a ghoul. They were all sitting away from the bars, and only the ghoul wasn''t covering his ears.


    "Nice work." The ghoul said in a gravelly voice, batting the man cowering next to him in the side. The two humans looked up and slowly made their way to the cage bars.


    "Are you here for us?" The man asked. I grimaced behind my face mask.


    "Well..." I looked over my shoulder to Veronica, who shrugged. "Technically no. But I mean, we''re not just going to leave you here. Stand back, and we''ll get you guys out of there. Veronica? Would you do the honors?"


    "With pleasure." Veronica walked past me, dropping Oh, Baby! on the floor next to her with a heavy, reverberating thud. She grabbed one of the bars on the door with her right hand, held onto another bar with her left, set her foot against one of the ankle-high metal ts running parallel to the ground, and gave a good yank. There was a wrenching sound of metal against metal, and she forcibly bent the upper part of the cage door outwards; a jagged piece of metal that used to be part of the now shattered lock flew past me and ttered against the back wall with a metal ring. The door swung open freely.


    "Th-thank you!" The woman said,tching onto Veronica as she practically rushed out of the cage.


    "Why''d th'' Fiends capture you?" Cass asked,ing up behind me. The male looked back at the ghoul, and shook his head.


    "We were part of a caravan heading into Vegas from down south. It was supposed to be a ransom thing, but... when they ambushed our caravan, they... the Fiends killed anyone who could''ve <em>paid</em>. So now, they''re just keeping us around for... sport." He looked over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze to a corpse, lying face down in a pool of dried blood in one corner of the cage.


    "It''s not like the caravan bosses would''ve paid for me anyway, smoothskin," the Ghoul behind him growled with a sick sort of chuckle. The man shook his head.


    "Look I don''t have much to thank you for letting us out, but..." He looked around at all of us. "You''re trying to get deeper into the Vault, right? I can give you this - it''s a scrap of paper I managed to steal that has the Overseer''s password on it." He reached into a pocket on his tattered pants, and handed me a small square of paper.


    "1L0V3B Nana5..." I read aloud. "Seriously? I love bananas?" The man shrugged.


    "Hey, I didn''te up with it, I just stole it. It should get you into the Overseer''s office."


    "Rick," the woman came up behind him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You should tell them about the Ranger!"


    "Ranger?" I asked. I raised an eyebrow, but they couldn''t see it anyway, so it felt a bit pointless. Rick nodded.


    "About a week ago, an NCR Ranger snuck in here. He tried to open the lock on our cell, but... a pair of Fiends interrupted him. I know he got out of <em>this </em>room, but one of the Fiends shot him in the leg, I think. He might still be here."


    "Alright then," I nodded, handing the scrap of paper to Veronica. "There you go. Cass, go with her, make sure she gets to the Overseer''s office. We''ll regroup at the Vault entrance when you''re done." Cass nodded as she took the time to refill the drum magazine on her shotgun. "Arcade, you want toe with me, help get these people outside?" He nodded.


    "That Ranger might need medical attention, too. If we can find him." Arcade changed the microfusion cell on the rifle. "I think-"


    Suddenly, there was an explosion behind us. All four of us turned at the sound, and the three of us with guns all had them raised and at the ready. The only thing any of us saw was a bloody hulk of a corpse in the far corner, and the wall and floor surrounding it was on fire. Cass startedughing nervously.


    "Eh-heh... sorry. Must''a clipped th'' fuel tank on one''ve th'' methrower dudes..."


    Whoever this Ranger was, he''de prepared.


    Rick and the other two caravaners were leading Arcade and I through the Vault; I had a strong feeling that we were heading in the right direction when we discovered dead Fiends that I knew we hadn''t killed, and lots of traps. Frag mines, trip wires that were connected to ymore explosives and grenade bouquets... this guy had fortified his position <em>heavily</em>.


    After we disabled thest mine, we came to a locked door at the top of a long set of stairs. It was easy enough to unlock, and as soon as the door slid into the ceiling, we were face to face with a Ranger leaning against the back wall, wearing a campaign hat, that ceramic Ranger patrol armor I''d seen in the past, and a revolver in his hands, pointing straight at us.


    "You''re not Fiends," He said, lowering the revolver slightly. "Rangers? No," He looked between the two of us. "No, you''re not Rangers. How the hell did you get in here? Who the hell are you?" I shouldered the G36 and slowly approached the Ranger. I just hoped I''d be able to think on my feet for this one.


    "I''m... an independent contractor. Doing some work for the NCR." That was... <em>technically </em>true, I guess. I tried to remember what Boone had told me about the McCarran basemander. His name was... "Colonel Hsu sent me here to find you." As I spoke, Arcade knelt down, and looked at the Ranger''s leg; there was a worrying pool of dried blood on the floor, and it looked like he hadn''t moved it in a while.


    "He sent <em>you</em>?" He asked, looking confused. "Why?"


    "The Colonel was concerned. And I''m sorry - he didn''t give me a name. He just said that a Ranger was lost inside Vault 3. What''s your name, soldier?" He grimaced.


    "Anders. Staff Sergeant Bryce Anders, 5th Ranger Battalion. You can go back to Hsu and tell him the mission <em>will</em> bepleted. I just need... a couple more days." Almost reflexively, he reached for his leg. "I killed a dozen of those degenerate Fiends sneaking my way in... but one got the drop on me. I holed up in here after I killed him. They''re too stupid to unlock the doors, so I knew they''d figure whoever attacked had just taken off. I just need a day or two and then I''ll take out Motor-Runner myself. I even got the key to the Maintenance Wing, where he''s made his... <em>throne room</em>. The situation''s under control."


    "No, it isn''t." Arcade said grimly looking up. Anders attention snapped to Arcade, who pushed his sses up his nose. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your leg looks - and smells - like it''s on the verge of infection. You''re going to need to get <em>serious</em> medical attention soon, or the infection will spread."


    "Goddamnit..." Anders grimaced again, shaking his head. "I knew that wasn''t just a flesh wound. Was just hoping that, uh..." He looked up at Arcade. "Are you trained as a doctor? Can you fix my leg?"


    "I''m trained as a doctor," Arcade said. "But I can''t fix your leg right now. I didn''t bring any serious tools or medical equipment, just some stimpacks and a few syringes of Med-X."


    "Hey, Rick?" I stood up, and called out to the three caravaners we were helping escape. Rick emerged from behind the door. "Do you think you three can carry this guy?" He nodded, and I knelt back down to get at eye level with the Ranger. "Don''t worry soldier, we''re going to get you out of here and back to Camp McCarran. Do you know a quick way back to the Vault entrance?" Arcade and I helped him on his feet, and the three caravaners rushed to help us; he yelled out when he tried to stand.


    "Augh! Y-yeah... there''s a... we''re right next to it. This is a false wall I was leaning up against." He tried to wiggle his way out of our grasp, and smacked a button next to us; a section of the wall that just looked like concrete slid into the ground, revealing the room with the Vault door that led outside. "Look, I''ll go back to McCarran... but..." He reached into his armor and pulled out a red metal keycard, cing it in my hand. "Motor-Runner is still my mission. If you want me to go back to base... can you promise me you''ll finish it?"


    "Don''t worry," I grabbed the keycard. "I think we can handle a raider boss." I jogged ahead of the limping Ranger, letting out a single shrill whistle as I ran; ED-E bobbed into the room through the open Vault door. "Hey buddy, think you can cover these four for a while?" He wobbled in the air, letting out a trio of beeps and squeaks. I turned back to Arcade, grabbing my car keys out of my pocket. "You can drive stick, right?" Before he even answered, I tossed him the keys; thankfully, he caught them. "They''re not going to make it in time on foot. Drive to McCarran, drop them off, ande right back." Arcade looked at the keys in his hand and sighed.


    "I apologize in advance for any mangled gear changes." Iughed as the five of them walked out the open Vault door, with ED-E flying through the air right in front of them. I pressed the transmit button on the side of my helmet.


    "Boone, you reading me?" There was a hiss of static, and then a pop in my ear.


    "Loud and clear." Boone said over the radio. "We done?"


    "Not quite. There''s a trio of civilians and a wounded Ranger exiting the Vault. Arcade is taking them to my car, and they''re gonna need covering fire on their way to McCarran."


    "Copy that. Over and out." The line in my ear went dead. I turned around... and came face to face with Veronica and Cass.


    "Found where they kept the reverse pulse cleaner," Veronica said with a smile.


    "Let me guess," I sighed. "The Maintenance Wing?" Veronica looked confused.


    "Yeah... how did you-" I sighed and shook my head.


    "Guess we really <em>do</em> have to kill Motor-Runner after all..."


    "You guys ready?" I asked the two women on either side of me.


    "I was born ready," Veronica hefted her massive hammer at the ready.


    "Does a yao guai shit in th'' woods?" Cassughed and pulled the charging handle on her AA-12. "C''mon, let''s kill this fucker."


    I nodded, and slid the metal keycard in the slot next to the door. There was a clunk, and a hiss of hydraulics as a pair of arms on the door unlocked themselves. The door swung open. The two Fiends on the other side didn''t even know what hit them.


    Now, I want to stress at this point: I thought things were going well. It''s entirely possible that I let my guard down. In fact, it was more than entirely possible. I was getting cocky, and I let my guard down - which is what allowed a mangy dog to get the drop on me when I rounded the next corner.


    I suddenly found myself on the floor, G36 knocked out of my hands, and a snarling maw full of teeth snapping wildly a few inches from my face. All around me I could hear the sounds ofbat erupting, but I was too focused on keeping this practically hairless, scabby mutt from tearing my throat out. It was thrashing above me, keeping me pinned to the ground... right up until I reached up, forced its snout closed with one hand, grabbed it by the scruff of the neck with the other, and twisted.


    I shoved the dog carcass away from me and tried as quick as I could to get back on my feet. There were Fiends on either side of me that I could see in my peripheral vision, but they seemed to be rushing past me - or, in the case of one of them directly to my right, getting his chest caved in by Veronica''s super sledge. Directly in front of me was <em>another</em> dog, just as rabid looking as the one before. It jumped, leaping at me - and then shuddered, practically copsing in mid-leap when I fired my sawn-off shotgun point nk into its muzzle.


    "So!" I heard a voice call out ahead of me "NCR''s finally sent more hitmen, huh?" Motor-Runner was rushing at me, an insane grin on his face and a crazy look in his eyes. I knew it had to be Motor-Runner, because he was running at me with a chainsaw held above his head, revving and growling and belching a trail of ck smoke behind him.


    I snapped off a point-nk shot with the shotgun, but... it didn''t even slow him down. He just took the hit and kept running at me, like he didn''t even realize he''d been shot. He let go of the chainsaw with one hand - keeping it held above his head with the other - and managed to grab my shotgun before I could get out of the way. He tried to bring the chainsaw down, but it was so heavy that he wasn''t bringing it down fast enough. I grabbed the empty handhold of the chainsaw as it came down, and pushed against it as hard as I could to keep it away from me.


    "Man! You fucks are persistent!" Motor-Runner yelled in my face. I was focused so hard on keeping the chainsaw away from me (the ded chain was spinning worryingly close to my helmet...) that I wasn''t able to keep him from twisting the shotgun in my hands to point at me. "You must <em>really</em> like the sight of your own blood!" He twisted his thumb into the trigger guard and-


    Click.


    I think for the first (and quite possibly, only) time in my life, I was d that sawed-off only had two shots.


    "I dunno!" I pushed off against the floor and mmed my helmet into his face; I heard a crack of bone, and I had no idea if that was his skull or the bighorner helmet he was wearing. "How about you?" I wrenched my shotgun hand free, and cracked him across the face again with the shotgun''s grip; I forced his hand holding the chainsaw down and away from us, and the spinning chainsaw''s teeth started grinding and chewing up the floor.


    "Fuck off!" Motor-Runner yelled; he swung, and managed to uppercut me in the jaw. The blow was softened by the helmet somewhat, but I was still surprised - how was he hitting me this hard? This helmet had shrugged off <em>rifle rounds</em>. And then I remembered: Chem Fiends. He was probably flying on Buffout and Med-X. He''d probably broken all the bones in his hand hitting me.


    "You first!" I delivered a single, decisive, swift kick in between his legs. Med-X or no, that certainly did the trick, and he let go of the chainsaw as he doubled over in pain, clutching at his wedding tackle. I twisted the chainsaw around in my grip and decided to end the fight.


    I shoved the chainsaw with all my might into Motor-Runner''s gut. I couldn''t tell if he was screaming, because the chainsaw was revving so loud. The spinning chain ripped through his skin like a... well, a chainsaw through butter, really. It was so fucking messy and disgusting. Blood and guts were getting sprayed in every direction. It only got about halfway through his torso before the chain started slowing, obviously getting clogged with pieces of bone and guts. But that probably did the trick; I pulled the chainsaw out of his gut, and gave him a swift kick in the middle of his chest. His legs fell in one direction, his upper body fell in another, and what was left of his intestines spilled out and fell in a third.


    As I stood over him, chainsaw still revving in my hand, I suddenly became aware that the sounds of violence andbat around me had simply ceased. If it wasn''t for the chainsaw, I''m sure the hallway would bepletely silent. I turned, and saw Cass and Veronica both staring at me... and around them, I saw three more Fiends (and plenty of dead Fiends besides) not attacking anybody, but just staring at me in ck-jawed horror.


    "Boo." I said, half to break the silence, and half just to screw with them. Instantly, thest three Fiends bolted. They just ran away screaming. As for Cass and Veronica... I''m not sure if that was fear or admiration in their expressions. It could have been either. Hell, it might have been both.


    I looked down at the weapons I was carrying. Shotgun in one hand. Chainsaw in the other. Really, in a situation like this, there''s only one thing a man can say:


    "Groovy."

 Chapter 82: Old School, Ghoul

    Chapter 82: Old School, Ghoul


    "You know, it feels like we''ve gotten a lot done today!" I said with a smile as Boone and I walked into the Lucky 38. ED-E was trailing behind us, bobbing in the air silently. Boone just sort of looked at me curiously.


    "What do you mean?" Boone asked,ing to a halt just inside the Lucky 38''s doors. I shrugged, adjusting the grip on my helmet so it wouldn''t fall out from under my arm.


    "Well, think about it," I started counting things off with my fingers. "We aplished everything we set out to do in Vault 3, and then some. We got the part Veronica needed, we rescued some prisoners, helped get a wounded NCR Ranger back to McCarran, then we killed Motor-Runner - the <strong>leader </strong>of the Fiends. And then, after everyone else went home, you, ED-E and I went and crippled the Fiends leadership <em>even further</em> by killing Violet, Driver Nephi, and Cook-Cook, the three Lieutenants!" Boone just continued to stare at me from behind his sunsses.


    "Yeah," he said simply. "I <strong>know</strong>. I was <strong>there</strong>. Why are you telling me this?"


    "Well..." I scratched the back of my neck. "You asked what I meant. And it just feels like we''ve gotten a lot done today. That''s all." Boone continued to stare at me.


    "You know, if you wanted some of the reward for the heads we turned in, you could just say so." I just startedughing, and pped him on the back.


    "C''mon man, you should know me better than that. If I really wanted the caps, I would''ve asked."


    I urged us forward, and looked around, quickly realizing that we weren''t alone down here. Off to the side, at the 38''s casino bar, I could see Arcade, Emily, and April. Arcade had long since gotten rid of his armor and weapons, and he was behind the bar, presumably serving drinks. Hisbcoat was nowhere to be seen, and sitting on the bar between Emily and April was a series of printed papers, holotapes... and a few drinks.


    "Hey guys!" I set my helmet on the bar and took a seat next to April. "Having fun?" The scientist next to me nodded, sliding a few papers across the bar to me.


    "We''ve just been talking with Arcade," Emily said, sipping on a ss of wine. "Going over some of the notes we''ve made while looking at theputer systems."


    "Sounds good. Found anything useful?" I asked. April shrugged.


    "So far? Not much. Yes Man''s been a big help, organizing all the data into different partitions in the system, but most of it is so heavily encrypted that we can''t ess it." She paused, and after a minute added: "Yet."


    "Hang on, I thought Yes Man already went through the files?" I asked. "The other day, he said he''d found something about spaceships..."


    "Well... he has, and he hasn''t," April smiled, brushing a few errant strands of ck hair out of her face andughing nervously. "He''s organized all the files, and has a rough idea of what''s contained inside them, but the exact details of the files themselves are beyond his ability to ess." Emily nodded, leaning around April.


    "Yes Man is much better at the <em>defensive </em>side of cyberwarfare - keeping people out. He''s not all that good at decryption." The redheaded scientist shrugged. "Benny never was all that smart about protection..."


    "Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean... Yes Man seemed pretty confident the other day..."


    "Oh, absolutely sure," Emily said. "Because of his programming, he is <em>physically</em> incapable of lying. I remember, because that was one of Benny''s requirements when he had me reprogram him. We did find a few lightly encrypted things, though." Emily took one of the holotapes on the bar and held it up for me to see. "Massive catalogues of biometric data collected from the machines Mr. House used to keep himself alive over thest 200 years."


    "Biometrics, huh?" I rubbed my chin. "Think you might be able to send that to the Followers, maybe find a medical use for it?"


    "Unlikely, at least in the short-term." Arcade said, shaking his head. "They showed me some of the data. The technology behind the machines is <em>frighteningly</em> advanced."


    "Frightening?" Boone spoke up from behind me; he was refusing to sit. "I''m not sure I get it. How can something advanced be frightening?"


    "Because <em>no one</em> had ess to this level of technology - before or after the bombs dropped," Arcade let out a single grim chuckle. "The old US government, the Enve, the NCR, the Followers, even the Brotherhood - what I''ve seen and what these two have shown me is so far beyond what any of them have or had ess to, that it would take <em>decades</em> just to understand the science behind how it even <em>works</em>."


    "We''ve only barely scratched the surface," Emily said. "And we''ve already uncovered enough data to fill up at least 50 holotapes, with mountains more still to decode. We can do it, I''m sure of it, but..."


    "It might take a while," April finished for her.


    Without warning, ED-E zoomed through the air,ing to a stop to hover in the air between all of us, beeping and chirping happily.


    "ED-E?" I asked, getting up off the bar stool. "You alright? What-"


    "Experiment Log 369248/A," A voice erupted out of ED-E''s speaker grill. It sounded like the same voice as before - the Enve scientist. "Eyebot Duraframe universal interface override system. This is Dr. Whitley presiding. Initial tests of the override system are promising. Against unsecured systems, or targets using anything less than a 64KB encryption key, the Eyebots have a 98% sess rate." And then, just as quickly as it began, there was a crackle of static, and the recording ceased.


    "Hang on," I said, leaning on the bar as ED-E hovered right in front of my face. "Are you saying you might be able to help these two?" The eyebot started nodding up and down in the air, beeping happily... and then his beeps started getting slightly nonmittal, and he started swaying slightly. And then he nodded again, letting out a trio of happy chirps.


    "Wait, I''m confused," Arcade said, looking up at ED-E. "Was that a yes or a no?"


    "Well April," I said to the ck haired scientist sitting next to me. "I guess you''re gonna be able to work with ED-E after all."


    "Hey, Fisher?" Boone called out to me; he''d moved away from the bar, and was edging toward the elevator. "Got a minute?"


    "Uh... sure. ''Scuse me,dies. ED-E. Arcade." I jogged over to Boone, who was waiting by the elevator. He seemed incredibly nervous. "What''s up?" Boone leaned in close, with his back to the scientists at the bar.


    "Are you sure you can trust them?" Boone asked, ncing over his shoulder. His voice was very low. "I mean... Arcade is an alright guy, fair enough, but... do you really think it''s a good idea giving those two free reign in here?" I shrugged.


    "Well, Arcade vouched for them when they first arrived. And they seem to have good intentions. Besides, it''s like they said - there''s <em>mountains</em> of technology in here. I can''t do it myself, because I just don''t have the know-how. I''m gonna need help if I''m going to try and understand any of it. Maybe with their help, I can actually get some use out of it."


    "Hrm." Boone seemed... I dunno, more suspicious and paranoid than normal. And that was saying something.


    "Speak your mind, man. What''s really bothering you?"


    "It''s just... Veronica wasn''t far off when she called them anarchists before. Are you <em>sure</em> you know what you''re doing?" I did my best not to show it on my face, but I was d he voiced one of the same concerns that I''d had. Instead, I just smiled and pped him on the shoulder.


    "Boone, don''t worry. I totally understand where you''reing from, but I''ve got a n." Boone raised an eyebrow.


    "You have a n?" He <em><strong>definitely</strong></em> seemed unconvinced now.


    "Well..." I gave a nervous chuckle. "I have... <em>part</em> of a n at least." I smiled broadly at him, but Boone sighed, shook his head, and hit the elevator call button behind him.


    "Whatever. Are we still going to recon the Vaults tonight?" He asked. I nodded.


    "Yeah. I''m thinking... hour and a half, two hours from now? That should give us plenty of time to resupply, right?" Boone nodded as the elevator doors behind him opened. He stepped inside, and I made my way back to the bar to pick up my helmet.


    "So, what did Boone want?" Arcade asked, sliding me a beer. I took a sip and sat down.


    "Well, he''s just..." Do I tell them? Eh, fuck it. "He''s suspicious of you two, to be honest." I said to Emily and April. Emily seemed surprised, but April wasn''t fazed at all.


    "Well, yeah," the dark-haired scientist finished off the drink in her hands. "He''s NCR, isn''t he? The NCR and the Followers haven''t gotten on in <em>years</em>."


    "What about Julie and that Major she knows, Kieran?" Emily asked, brushing some of her red hair out of her face and adjusting her sses. "Those two seem to get along." April rolled her eyes.


    "That''s just because it''s <em>Julie</em>. She is the nicest person in the known universe, I don''t think it''s possible for <strong>anyone</strong> to hate her."


    "Hell, I thought Boone was just being cautiously paranoid. So, the NCR and the Followers don''t get along?" I asked. That was news to me. Arcade nodded his head.


    "No. At least, not for a while. Not since the Followers running things out of the Boneyard started being actively vocal in their opposition of the NCR''s expansionist policies."


    "The Boneyard leaders haven''t been <em>that</em> vocal, have they?" Emily asked.


    "Not that vocal?" Arcade practically startedughing. "Don''t you remember reading about what Adrianna Dorsey said to the Speaker of the House a few months ago? She called him a ''belligerent, pig-headed, jingoistic war-hawk whose only concern was lining his already fat pockets with more blood money''."


    "You have that memorized," April sighed, resting her forehead in her hands. "I know I shouldn''t be surprised that you have that memorized, Arcade, because... well, it''s <strong>you</strong>..." Arcade just kept grinning.


    "I still have the newspaper clippings! I just love that whole speech of hers. It''s a glorious cavalcade of insults, one right after the other, saying everything we all know is true about the NCR, but most people are too afraid to say out loud."


    "You know, even when I was travelling around California, I never really paid all that much attention to politics,"I said. "Was it always like that between the Followers and the NCR?" The question wasn''t really directed at anyone specific.


    "Not always," Emily said as she continued to sip her wine. "Back in the early days, the Followers helped jumpstart the NCR - when their only im was the city of Shady Sands. But then, the NCR started expanding, annexing territory, bringing all the different tribes living in California under one g... and no matter how much they had, they always seemed to want more. Because of that, the Followers and the NCR have had goalspletely at odds with one another, at least in thest few decades."


    "Alright, so if there''s so much antagonism between you guys..." I took another drink of my beer. "... why hasn''t the NCR tried to shut you down yet?" Arcade shrugged.


    "The best I can figure? The political bacsh would be too bad." Emily and April both nodded.


    "The Boneyard University is still run by the Followers," April said. "There''s no better ce to get an education, and everyone in the NCR knows it - citizens, politicians, brahmin barons, everyone. That''s why they''ve been sending a lot of their OSI recruits there. Not even the Vault City college can measure up."


    "Not to mention there''s all the missions we''ve tried to open all across the NCR''s frontier." Emily pushed her sses up her nose again. "A huge chunk of the NCR''s poption lives in towns on the frontier, and a lot of times... the only help those people can get is from a Followers doctor. The Followers are the only ones who care about helping people that far away from the cities..."


    "The Followers are the only ones who care about helping people get an education..." April said with a sigh.


    "The Followers are the only one who seem to care <strong>at all</strong>." Arcade said, finishing off the thought.


    I sat there, drinking my beer, and trying to soak in all this information. And eventually, I decided to speak.


    "You know what? I''m going to make a promise to you guys, right here, right now," I tapped the bar with my fingers a few times. "As long as I''m living in the Lucky 38... the Followers will be wee in Vegas. You have my word."


    "Do you really mean that?" April asked. I nodded, finishing my beer, grabbing my helmet, and getting up off the barstool.


    "Might not count for all that much, now..." I said, starting to slowly walk away. "But yes. I really do mean that. I''m gonna do what I can to help you guys out, NCR be damned."


    "Why?" Emily asked, turning around in her stool to get a better look at me. "Why would you do that for... us?"


    "I want to make a difference. That''s what I''ve been trying to do with that whole ''Courier Six'' thing." Well... that''s <em>one</em> of the things I''ve been trying to do... "The Followers seem to be all about making a difference, so I''m gonna do everything I can to help you guys out." I started to walk away, but stopped mid-stride, and turned back to them. "Oh, just... one thing, and it kind of goes back to Boone''s earlier paranoia."


    "Yes?" April and Emily both spoke in unison, and both of them looked worried.


    "I only have one rule: don''t cross me." I made sure that I kept smiling as I said that. "It never ends well." After the two of them stared at me in stunned silence, I decided to try and soften the blow. "Look at it like this - as long as you don''t shoot me in the head or threaten to kill my friends, you''ll be fine. That''s reasonable, right?"


    By the time Boone, ED-E and I returned from our little scouting mission, it was just shy of 11:30 pm. I was about to turn in and get some sleep (since, as usual, things hadn''t <em>quite</em> gone to n...) when I remembered: I still hadn''t talked to Raul yet. I knew he wanted to talk to me about something, but I didn''t know what, so, I went looking for him. I didn''t find him until I wandered into the revolving restaurant at the top of the 38.


    "Hey, Raul," I said when I finally spotted him. He was standing at the edge of the revolving floor, staring out the windows and watching the scenery roll by beneath him. I walked up behind him, and he didn''t even acknowledge me. "You alright?" Raul blinked a few times, and finally noticed me when I rested my hand on his shoulder.


    "Hmm? Oh, uh... yeah. Yeah, Boss. I''m fine." Raul shrugged and shed a crooked, cracked smile. "Just... thinking, that''s all. You got a minute to talk, Boss?" He sat down on one of the nearby couches, and I followed his lead, sitting opposite him.


    "Absolutely. What''s on your mind?" Raul sighed, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward in his seat.


    "Just... earlier today, when I met Corporal Sterling. It kind of got me thinking." Raul started gesturing with his scabby hands as he spoke. "Here''s a guy that''s been beat all to hell, right? Got his hands and feet mangled by Caesars Legion... but he doesn''t quit. He could have retired from the service, but instead he signs back on and does what he can." He looked up at me, and suddenly his eyes looked very, very old. "Do you think he did the right thing?"


    "Well... yeah." I leaned back against the sofa. "I mean, he''s an ex-Ranger who was epted into 1st Recon. Even after a crippling injury, a man like that is still probably tougher and more dangerous than most men alive. If you can still do some good, then why not do some good?" Raul stared at me for a long while before finally starting to slowly nod his head.


    "Maybe... yeah. I guess you''ve got a point there."


    "We''re not really talking about Corporal Sterling." I said. "Are we." Raul shook his head.


    "Not really, Boss. No. But meeting him... it just got me thinking about ancient history." Raul sighed heavily. "Thinking about what happened when I finally left Mexico."


    "I''m all ears, man." I leaned forward in my seat. Raul started rubbing the back of his neck.


    "I left everything behind when I left Mexico. My home. My family. My name..." He looked up and gave a half-hearted smirk. "Even my face. As far as the world knew, I was Miguel," he tapped the nametag on his Petro-Chico jumpsuit. "And I was okay with that. I headed north for a while, and ended up in Tucson. Not Two-Sun, by the way."


    "Yeah, I think you mentioned that," I said with a nod. "I''ve never been there, so I''ll take your word on that."


    "Things were pretty good there." He paused, grimacing. "Well, okay. Maybe not <em>good</em>, but better than Mexico City. I found myself a little shack, and started fixing things to keep myself busy."


    "Fixing things?" I asked. Raul nodded.


    "Oh, sure, Boss. I''ve always been good with my hands. I figured, since I''m pretty handy with a wrench, I may as well put my talents to good use. At that point, I figured it was a better way to use your hands than killing. I mean, even then... I wasn''t getting any younger or faster." He paused for a minute or two, obviously thinking back. I didn''t want to interrupt. He shook his head and sighed. "I lived there for a long time. Kept to myself, didn''t get into any fights. As far as the locals knew, I was just the viejo chido, the doddering old Mexican who knew how to repair anything. Hell, the only reason I even kept my guns oiled was professional pride."


    "Sounds like a decent enough ce," I said, nodding. "Why aren''t you still there?"


    "Getting there, Boss. I''d been in Tucson... I dunno, maybe 75 years. And then... <em>she</em> showed up."


    "She?" I asked.


    "Prettiest thing you ever saw, Boss. I... maybe it was just a trick of my old, senile brain, but when I first saw her, I swore she looked just like my Rafa. My little sistere back from the dead... I mean, she wasn''t, obviously. Her name was udia. But the resemnce was... Dios mo, Boss, it was uncanny. She ended up taking work at... well, the sign above the door said it was a saloon. But everyone knew it was a brothel." I thought about that for a minute.


    "You didn''t... I mean... did you ever go <em>see</em> her?" I asked. Raul looked mortified.


    "Wh- no! No, no, Boss... I... no. I couldn''t. I mean... quite apart from her looking like my <em>dead little sister</em>, she... I don''t think she''d... I mean, look at me." Raul shook his head profusely. "No, I just... all I tried to do was look after her in my own way."


    "So what happened?" I asked.


    "This was a long time ago. Long before Caesar''s Legion pacified Arizona and brought the raider tribes to heel. A tribe came into Tucson one day - more a gang, really. Dirty Dave and his six brothers. They rode into town, looking for bullets. Ammo was one of the things I sold at my shop... and I sold some to them. I figured if I gave them what they wanted, they''d leave town before they tore it up too much."


    "But they didn''t," I said, already suspecting where this was going. "Did they?" Raul stared at me and slowly shook his head.


    "No, Boss. No they did not." He sighed, and frowned; hisck of skin made his sober expression all the more pronounced. "I hoped they''d leave the town in peace. Instead, they decided to stop at udia''s brothel to take the edge off. I don''t know which one of them got rowdy first. I suppose... it doesn''t really matter, now. By the time I heard the screams and got my guns, it was toote. They''d shot up the ce, killed four girls, and taken udia for their sport."


    "Did you rescue her?" I asked, dreading the answer. I could already tell from his expression that this story wasn''t going to end well, but I asked anyway.


    "I went after Dave and his brothers. They''d had a head start... but they slept nights." Raul looked up at me with fire in his eyes. "I <strong>didn''t</strong><em><strong>.</strong></em> Even so, it took me three days to catch up to them. By the time I got there... udia was already dead." Raul shook his head. "I couldn''t do anything except avenge her. Just like Rafa. I did the only thing I could think of, Boss. I charged headlong into the middle of their camp and started firing. Two of them were dead before they even knew I was there. The other five, though... they shot the shit out of me. They filled me with every single bullet they had, until they didn''t have any more."


    "How''d you survive?" I asked, genuinely curious.


    "Simple. By being a meaner old cuss than the rest of them, Boss. Rage is a hell of an anesthetic. I wanted to keep living until they <em>weren''t</em>, so I just kept fighting, kept shooting, until all of them were dead. When all was said and done, though... I was in pretty bad shape. The rage wore off, and I just copsed. I don''t know how long Iid there in the middle of nowhere, with the sun baking me and buzzards chomping at me. Somehow, a few dayster, I found the strength to move again. And about a week after that, I managed to drag my carcass back to town."


    "What happened then?"


    "Well, when I recovered... more or less... I left Tucson behind. Started wandering. Phoenix, Santa Fe, Denver, Zion. Eventually I wound up here in the Mojave, ran into Tabitha at ck Mountain and... well. The rest you know," Raul sighed again. "I thought I was done with the gunslinging life decades ago. I thought I was too old, too slow, and too beat up to protect anyone anymore. But then I started traveling with you, and I realized... I''ve always had my doubts."


    "Doubts?" I asked. "About what?"


    "About whether I still had what it took to carry my pistols proudly. To use them to do the right thing. And you know... I think it was when I killed thatkelurk, trying to turn you into lunch. That''s when I started giving it some serious thought. I may not be as tough as I used to be, but my brains can make up for that. And my hands are certainly still quick enough."


    "And your eyes aren''t nearly as bad as you im." I added with a smirk. Raul startedughing.


    "Well, that''s true enough. Point is... I think it''s time to put the guns back on." I looked down after he said that, and pointed to the revolver on his hip.


    "What, you mean the guns you already have on? Those guns?" Raul shook his head taking one of the revolvers out of its holster, and holding it up for me to see.


    "These? No. These aren''t the guns I''m talking about, Boss. I haven''t touched those in years... My guns - my father''s guns - are back at my safehouse." Raul leaned back, looking out the windows again. "You keep talking about wanting to make a difference... well maybe I can too, in my own way..." Raul stood up, twirled the revolver around his finger like a old-west gunslinger, and holstered it. "It''s time for the Ghost Vaquero to ride again."

 Chapter 83: There Stands The Grass

    Chapter 83: There Stands The Grass


    "Has anyone seen Cass?" I heard Veronica ask from the hallway. I was working on a couple of weapons in my room when I heard her. "I haven''t seen her since yesterday."


    "Don''t look at me," Arcade''s said from somewhere else in the hallway.


    "Cass is missing?" I asked, stepping out of my room to meet them. Veronica and Arcade were standing by the elevator and they both turned to face me when I emerged.


    "Yeah, sh-" Veronica halted mid-sentence as she got a look at me. "Sheason, why are you carrying a methrower?" I shrugged - or, at least, I tried to. The straps keeping the fuel tank secured to my back were pretty heavy.


    "Well, we''re gonna go to Vault 22ter today, right? I figure this is going to be pretty useful. So long as the nts burn like they''re supposed to..." Both Arcade and Veronica looked confused.


    "What do you mean, burn like they''re supposed to?" Arcade asked. Veronica, on the other hand, still seemed more fixated on the weapon I was carrying.


    "Where did you even <strong>get</strong> that?" She asked, shaking her head.


    "From the Silver Rush," I said simply. "Remember that giant pile of weapons and ammo we stole before Cass, Boone and I blew up the ce? This was one of the spoils. Seems to be in pretty good condition."


    "Do you even know how to use that?" Veronica asked.


    "Seems simple enough. Make sure nobody''s in the line of fire, point, and shoot. How hard can it be?" In response, Arcade buried his face in his hand.


    "I always feel an inordinate pang of dread whenever anyone utters the phrase ''how hard can it be?'' You know that right?"


    "Look," I said forcefully. "I think we''re getting a little off topic. You said Cass is missing?" Veronica nodded. "What do you mean missing, how could she be missing?"


    "I haven''t seen her since we got back from Vault 3 yesterday. She didn''te to bedst night, and it doesn''t look like she''s been in her room at all, either. I''m starting to get really worried..." She certainly looked it, but I couldn''t understand why.


    "C''mon, Cass is an adult." More or less. "I''m sure whatever she''s got up to, she can take care of herself, why''re you so worried about it?" Veronica''s expression turned to stone, and she folded her arms across her chest.


    "Shea, thest time one of us went missing for more than twelve hours, it was <strong>you</strong>, and that was because you were trapped in the Sierra Madre."


    "<strong>Ah</strong>." I said, finally understanding the issue. "Yeah, that''s... okay, yeah. We should probably start looking for her, just in ca-"


    Ding.


    As if on cue, the elevator doors opened, revealing a very drunk Cass - still clutching an empty bottle in one hand - leaning up against one of the elevator''s walls. Her hat was only barely clinging to her head, her hair was disheveled, her clothes were a mess, and her face was so flush the redness almost matched her hair. And despite all that, she still managed to have the stupidest, widest grin on her face.


    "Hayyy, guyysss!" She pushed off the wall and ended up stumbling out of the elevator, drunkenly twirling in ce before wobbling forward. If Veronica hadn''t been standing there, I''m sure Cass would''ve smacked straight into the ground; however, V caught the drunken caravan boss mid-fall, and for half a second it almost looked like the two of them were trying to dance the Tango. " Wh-uh-oop! Nize caaadge, gud lookin''. Haavn'' funnnn?"


    "Where have you been?" Veronica asked, trying to set Cass back on her feet. It wasn''t really working. "I''ve been worried sick, I thought something really awful had happened! Seriously, what have you been doing?"


    "Drinkin''!" Cass said happily. She wobbled in ce for a few seconds, and then settled into leaning on the nearby wall for support. "Ah''ve juss b''n havin'' a gud tiiime. Yeeeeah." I looked down at my Pip Boy, checking the clock. Yep, just as I suspected.


    "Cass, it''s 9am, and you''re alreadypletely shit faced. I think it <em>may</em> be time to admit you actually have a problem." She blinked a few times, and the expression on her face was one of deep, drunken contemtion. She appeared to be giving something some serious thought.


    "Is th''t whut time''t... whut time <strong>is</strong> it?" Cass scratched her head, and then shook it, knocking her hat off. "Thing''ve it is... I''ven''t been drinkin'' jus'' thiss mornin'', this''s been goin'' on alllllll night! I''ven''t stopped!"


    "I''m not sure that that''s better..." Arcade said incredulously. "In fact... that''s... that''s kind of worse, isn''t it?"


    "Righ'', so, whut it''d happen''d was, was''is: after y''killed Moto''run''r, ah went to th'' ''tomic wrangl''r. An'' you''ll nev''r guess whut happen''d! Ah ran int''a Dennis Boyd, an'' ol'' car''van buddy''a mine! Told ''im whut''d happen''d, he bought me''a drink, s''me oth''r car''vanner''s showed up, they start''d buyin'' me MORE drinks, ah bought them s''me drinks, an'' th'' nex'' thing ah know, there''s, like, fifty''ve us! An'' then, we all start''d barhoppin''!"


    "And you''ve been drinking continuously that entire time." I felt my eye twitch.


    "Yep!" Cass practically beamed. "We must''ve hit ev''ry bar''n Freeside''n th'' Strip! T''was mos''ly beers''n shit, buuuut... things gotta liiiiiittle fuzzy aft''r th'' shots''ve t''qu at Th'' Griff''n... Oh! An'' we went t''see Joey at th'' caro... th'' carus... th'' ce in th'' circus ce, y''know?"


    "How are you not <strong>dead</strong>?" Veronica asked. Cass, however, must have thought I was the one to ask, because when she responded, she pushed off the wall into my direction and pointed a finger roughly at me.


    "Hey, ah''ve been pacin'' m''self! B''sides... S''like ah told ye'' b''fore - all six''ve ya! - mah liver''s ind''struct''ble!" And with that, she fell forward again; this time, I caught her. She grabbed hold of my shoulder with one hand, and tried to steady herself against the methrower in my hands with the other. "Oh! Um... h''lo there! That a methrow''r in yer pocket''r y''jus'' happy t''see me?"


    "It''s a methrower." I said as t as I could. She blinked several times, and leaned in close, almost pressing her nose into the top of the barrel; it was like someone who had lost their sses was trying to focus.


    "So t''is." She looked back up at me with that goofy grin and patted the methrower a few times. "Ah mean... ah, ah knew that, obvi''sly. Jus'' testin'' ye, t''make sure ye... knew tha''. Ye pass''d, hurray!" I sighed, and tried to help her back up on her feet and off of me.


    "Cass, I am, frankly, a little disappointed." Veronica nodded approvingly as I spoke. "If you were gonna go out drinking like that, you should''ve told the rest of us before you left - so we could''ve joined you!" Veronica stopped nodding immediately, and started sending me a death re. "... more pressingly, you''re in absolutely no condition to fight or even go <em>anywhere</em>. So. Steps will have to be taken..."


    "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Boone asked. He was in the back of the car, next to Arcade; Veronica was in the passenger seat. ED-E wasn''t here - he was back at the Lucky 38.


    "Are you talking about going into Vault 22 at less than full strength, or leaving a stupidly drunken, practically catatonic Cass in the care of April and Emily?" Boone''s face remained impassive and practically motionless for a good thirty seconds before he finally responded:


    "Yes."


    "Ask a stupid question..." I said under my breath with a sigh, shaking my head.


    "It''s like I keep trying to tell you, Boone," Arcade said to the sniper sitting next to him. "I know you don''t agree with the Followers politics, but I''ve known both Emily and April for a very long time. They''re good people. Hell, I don''t think Emily has ever even <em>held</em> a gun in her life."


    "I was actually kind of worried about asking them," I said. "Every other time I''ve asked them for something thest few days, I''ve tried to make sure there was some kind of incentive for them - make it a mutually beneficial arrangement, you know?"


    "I''m with Boone, on this one," Veronica said. "Couldn''t we have just told Yes Man to jump in a Securitron and look after her, instead of a pair of girls you have known for only three and a half days?"


    "V, think about what you''re saying for a minute," I said. "Yes Man is <em>incapable </em>of disobeying any orders he''s given, and until Emily can fix that part of his programming, that''s just the way he is. If he was watching her, the first time she asked him for more booze, he''d get it for her, no questions."


    "And to be fair, I''ve known them for a lot longer than three days," Arcade added. "Trust me on this, Cass is in good hands with those two."


    "Alright, so Cass is in the drunk tank," Boone said. "What about Raul?"


    "That''s a lot easier to exin," I replied, brining the car to a stop. "He had to go back to his safehouse, and take care of a few things. He told me when he left that he probably wouldn''t be back untilter today, or early tomorrow. Now... you guys ready?" I grabbed the G36 and stepped out of my car. "Because we''re here."


    My Corvega was parked at the entrance of a small, hilly canyon in the Mt. Charleston foothills. Hildern wasn''t kidding when he said nts were spilling from the Vault 22 gate. I''d gotten the general ideast night, but it was much more obvious in the light of day. The ground near where I''d parked my car was covered with a thick carpet of grasses and moss - which itself was strange enough for the <em>desert</em> - but further into the canyon, the foliage just got thicker and thicker. Bushes, trees, vines... and that was just the greenery. There must have been a dozen species of multi-colored flowers (at least) in the area between my car and the Vault entrance alongside who knows how many mushroom colonies. All this ntlife growing freely like this was strangely surreal. When Boone and I had checked out the entrancest night, it had set off a lot of warnings in my head, and now that I was back... the bells were still going off, just as loudly as before.


    That wasn''t the most worrying thing, however. The most worrying thing was right near the entrance: a giant metal sign. Boone and I had seen it beforest night, and it''s why I was worried and insisted on brining the methrower. I think Arcade and Veronica were having the same reaction, because both of them were standing in front of the sign, just staring.


    "Stay out!" Veronica said aloud, reading the spray painted sign. "The nts kill!"


    "That''s rather ominous and foreboding, isn''t it?" Arcade asked. I looked over at him, and... I admit, I was starting to worry even more.


    "Are you sure you''re going to be alright carrying that?" I asked Arcade, gesturing to the methrower in his hands and the fuel tank on his back. Arcade sighed.


    "Sheason, do you know how to use a mbe F500?" He continued before he could give me a chance to answer. "Didn''t think so. I''ve been trained in how to use this. I''m willing to bet Veronica, with her Brotherhood training, has too, but I don''t think she''ll give up her super sledge or her power fist to use something like this."


    "You know, one of these days," Veronica hefted Oh, Baby! onto her shoulder, "you''re gonna have to tell us all how a medical doctor knows so much about weapons and armor."


    "Well, <em>technically</em>, when the Followers trained me how to use it, it wasn''t so it could be used as a weapon." Arcade said. "There was a field of crops south of the San Miguel ruins a few years ago that had been infested by a mutant strain of Ecuadorian-super-aphids. The only option was to burn the whole crop, and they were shorthanded for the job. Thus: trained in the use of a methrower."


    "...Ecuadorian-super-aphids?" Boone asked incredulously. "Did you make that up?"


    "You do know what you carrying the methrower means though, right?" I asked, getting close to Arcade and patting him on the shoulder. He looked confused, and slowly started to shake his head. "It means you''re on point." Instantly, his eyes went wide and his face turned white as a sheet.


    "What?"


    "Think about it," I said to him as I led us both deeper into the canyon, beneath a series of rocky outcroppings directly above our heads, covered in vines and moss. "You can''t be in the middle with a methrower. That''s just asking for one of us to get in the way, and then we''d end up charred and writhing on the ground in agony, soaked in gasoline, burning - screaming! Personally, I''m not interested in that scenario."


    "I''m... not... interested in causing it." Arcade said - picturing that scenario in his head, if his expression was anything to go by - as the two of walked through the waist-deep foliage. "Maybe you <em>should</em> be the one to carry this?"


    "Hey, you''re the one who made such a big deal about having the training," I said. A few feet in front of us, Veronica was kneeling down, looking at something in the tall grasses. When she emerged, she was holding a giant mantis carcass up by one of its legs. Even dead, the giant mutant bug was as long as her torso.


    "Holy hell!" Veronica seemed stunned. "I''ve never seen mantises mutated this <em>big</em> before! What are they <strong>eating</strong>?"


    "Watch your step," Boone said. "Fisher and I killed at least ten of these thingsst night, they''re scattered all over the ce." He was carrying his MP5 in front of him, but he still had the Gobi Campaign rifle slung across his back. He probably had a few other weapons too, same as me, but I couldn''t see them under his duster.


    Arcade and I walked past those two, and directly at the open Vault door ahead of us. Unlike Vault 3, the circr gear-shaped door was already open... but not all the way. There were thick vines (like tree trunks or thick, heavy roots) wrapped around the edges of the door, snaking their way outside from within. If I didn''t know any better, I''d say that the vines had forcibly opened the door, and pushed it out of the way so they could get out. The "22" painted on the door was only barely visible... it almost looked like a 92, because of the chipped, faded paint and the location of all the vines covering it.


    That cold, sinking feeling took hold in my gut the longer I stood in front of the half-open door, and wouldn''t let go. I didn''t want to say it out loud... but I had a bad feeling about this. Something was seriously wrong about this ce, and I couldn''t put my finger on it. But we couldn''t turn back now, not with all of us right here. There was nothing else for it.


    "Alright, are you guys ready?" I grabbed my helmet hanging off my belt, and put it on my head, locking it in ce. "Let''s go."


    That feeling of unease was just getting worse the deeper we went.


    The interioryout of this Vault was totally different from Vault 3. At first I thought it was just my mind ying tricks on me, but when I checked my Pip Boy andpared the maps it had been generating as I''d travelled though both Vaults... yeah, this was definitely different.


    I couldn''t me the nts for the strange interioryout - the Vault was obviously built like this intentionally - but I was starting to suspect that I <em>could</em> me the nts for the heat. Fuck, it was humid down here! The desert is a dry heat, but this? It felt like I was melting inside my armor, and I even saw Veronica wipe the sweat off her forehead a couple of times.


    The metal and concrete in the rooms and hallways could still be seen, but they were only just barely visible. Rust and dirt had covered most of the hallways and rooms. There were a lot of nts growing within areas that had been cordoned off with guardrails - almost like the nts were <em>supposed</em> to be growing there, but there were just as many vines, mosses, grasses, mushrooms, and others I couldn''t identify pushing up through the floors and the cracks in the walls, snaking their way up, probably growing in the direction of the lights in the ceiling.


    That''s what I really didn''t get. This Vault had obviously been abandoned for a very, very long time... but most of the lights still worked. I mean, in Vault 3 it kind of made sense because people were still living in it (drug addled as they were), but here? How did this ce even still have <em>power </em>after being abandoned for so long?


    All of these things were setting off warning gs in my head, to be sure. But there was one small crumb offort: we hadn''t really encountered any resistance. We''d run into a few mutant mantises, like the bugs outside that Boone and I had dealt withst night, but apart from that... nothing. It was only a small crumb offort, though, because I was remembering what Williams, that female OSI scientist, told me the other day. Unless they were woefully underequipped, I can''t imagine any mercenaries not being able to deal with a few mutant bugs...


    "Hey, Sheason?" My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by Veronica. "I found something... weird. You wanna take a look at this?" She was standing in front of a light fixture mounted right next to arge collection of foliage growing right out of the nter in the center. I stood next to her, not entirely sure what she wanted be to look at.


    "I''m not sure I get it. What''s weird, the floodlight?" I asked. The light was shining on the nts, covering them in arge, wide beam of bright purple... but that didn''t seem all that important. Veronica shook her head.


    "I don''t think this is a simple floodlight. I think this is a makeshift ultraviolet spectrometer someone has built."


    "A what-now?" Boone asked,ing up behind me.


    "A spectrometer. It''s a device that measures properties of light over a specific portion of the electromaic spectrum, typically used in spectroscopic analys..." She trailed off, quickly realizing this was going over both our heads. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she tried toe up with a simple exnation. She sighed heavily. "Alright, watch." As she spoke, Veronica waved her hand through the purple beam of light - and as it passed through, I could see <em>things</em> moving in the air; they almost looked like particles of dust you''d see floating in a sunbeam, except they were illuminated bright-blue against the purple light. "There''s something in the air down here..."


    "Guys! We''ve got iing" Arcade yelled, standing in the doorframe that led into the room we were in. "There''s some... wait... hang on..." At first I thought he was going to douse the hallway in fire, but he was just standing there.


    "What''s the problem?" I rushed to try and see what he was looking at, the G36 at the ready.


    "There''s some mantises at the end of the hall, but... I mean, they''re just ignoring us." I tried to squeeze past him to get a look. Sure enough, I could see some giant mantises at the end of the hallway. Three... four... five... they just kepting, and even the few that looked down our way just kept going. And then, just as thest one tried to run out of sight-


    "What is <em>that</em>?!" Arcade yelled next to me. Some... <em>thing</em> had leapt onto thest mantis, and started tearing it to pieces. I couldn''t really get a good look at it. Whatever it was, it blended in almost a little too well with the nts growing up through the cracks in the wall. I cycled my eyes through a few vision modes, and... wait, what the hell? It''s not showing up at all! Nothing on thermal, nothing on EM...


    I switched my eyes back to normal, and snapped off a few shots as quick as I could... but I wasn''t fast enough. I don''t know if I hit it or not, but whatever it was, it bolted. By the time I ran to the end of the hall to see if I could catch it, figure out what it was, or finish it off, it was long gone. The only evidence that it was even there was the mangled mantis dead at my feet.


    The tension was just killing me.


    Something was definitely wrong here, I knew that for certain. The deeper we went, the thicker the foliage got. There were more spectrometers, too... but we hadn''t run into any more of those creatures. I knew they were down here - whatever they were, if there were even more than one of them. The fact that we hadn''t seen any was either very good or very, <em>very</em> bad.


    "Hold up!" I said stopping just shy of the next corner. "I think I hear something..." I peered around the corner, carbine at the ready.


    There was a female figure with no hair at the other end of the hall, standing over something that I couldn''t see. It was a... pile of something. It looked like more nts, but... what <em>is </em>that? And was she pouring... is that a bottle of booze in her hands? After she finished dousing the pile she was standing over with alcohol, she reached down, and pulled a re off her belt, knocked the end of it against the nearby wall to ignite it, and dropped it on the pile; it lit up instantly.


    "What do you see?" I heard Veronica whisper behind me. Obviously, it wasn''t soft enough, because I saw the female figure cock her head, and turn in our direction, pulling aser rifle off her back. I couldn''t see her face, because it was obscured by a bandana over her mouth and a pair of goggles on her eyes. But what I could see, now that the bonfire behind her was lighting up the corridor, was that she was a ghoul.


    "Who''s there?" She growled, slowly advancing in the direction of the sound. "Fuck... I bet it''s more spore carriers..." I had to think quickly.


    "You''re Keely, right?" I shouted, keeping most of myself behind cover. When she heard the name, she paused, partially lowering theser rifle. I was obviously on the right track. "Dr. Williams sent us to find you."


    "Yeah, I''m Keely..." She growled. "Who are you? You NCR?" Not all of us, I thought. "You gonna show yourselves?"


    "Are you gonna shoot us?" I asked; I turned back to everyone all lined up behind me, guns at the ready, and held my hand out for them to hold for a minute.


    "No, I''m not going to shoot you. Not unless you shoot at me first." Keely said. I looked back around the corner and watched as she lowered her riflepletely.


    "Fair enough," I said. I kept my hand off the pistol grip of my G36 as I rounded the corner. She definitely looked like she could handle herself - there was a bandolier of microfusion cells slung across her chest, and the strap from a satchel slung over the other shoulder. There were a couple of bandages wrapped around her arms.


    "So, Ang sent you, huh?" She pulled down the bandana and the goggles, letting them rest around her neck. Her scarred and scabby nose-less face twisted into an amused grin. "Heh... She''s such a dear. Always worrying about everything... not like that pompous little pedant she works for. But, that''s neither here nor there. The nts down here have gottenpletely out of control. I''ve got a n to deal with them, but I need help. How many people are with you?"


    "There''s four of us. I''m Sheason. That''s Arcade. Veronica. Boone." She immediately focused on Arcade and Veronica, shoving past me to get to them.


    "You two - do you have respirators? Rags? Anything to cover your mouths?" Veronica and Arcade looked at each other,pletely confused. Keely growled and shook her head, reaching into the satchel at her side. "Damnit. Here - take these." She handed them both a pair of auto-injector syringes. Unsurprisingly, they were a bit hesitant. I would be, too.


    "Why? What is this?" Arcade asked.


    "Itraconazole." Keely growled. "It''s an antimycotic I was able to synthesize tobat the spores in the air down here. If you''ve seen the spectrometers I''ve set up, then you already know you''ve been breathing the spores for as long as you''ve been down here - however long that''s been. The symptoms won''t manifest for ten or twenty days at least, but I suggest you take it well before then. Otherwise you''ll-"


    Keely was cut off by a clunk from the ceiling above our heads. Everyone drew guns at the sound - and then it was followed by more clunks.


    "Fuck!" She started backing up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! We have to move, they''reing for us!" She rushed past us, into the next room. All of us followed, as the banging above us got even louder.


    "What''sing?" I yelled over the noise. Keely vaulted over an upturned table, and took cover behind it.


    "Spore carriers!" Keely yelled, bracing herser rifle against the table. "They use the vents to move around!" The rest of us followed suit, trying to take cover behind whatever we could find in the room.


    A grate in the ceiling dropped down with a clunk, and was followed by - I''m not really sure how to describe it. I mean, I could tell that it was the same kind of thing that ate the mantis earlier, but I still had no idea <em>what</em> it was. It was vaguely humanoid, with long talon-tipped hand and feet, and a snarling mouth filled with teeth, and it looked like it was covered from head to toe in moss. It didn''t have any eyes, and I saw a cluster of spine-looking things sticking out of its back. And then it was followed by another. And then two more.


    The beasts leapt into the room, and everything erupted in gunfire. I managed to hit one, but it was fast - a lot faster than I was expecting. And it didn''t help that it was apparently able to cling to the ceiling. When everything slowed down enough for me to aim in VATS, I saw that my shots <em>were</em> actually hitting, but they were <em>just going straight though</em>. I started to get worried as the one I''d been shooting at was now leaping directly at my face, but it was caught mid-leap by Veronica smashing it in the chest with Oh, Baby! and sending it flying.


    "Guns won''t work!" Keely yelled, shooting a greenser st at one of the leaping monsters; the beam cut straight through, and it disintegrated in a bright sh in midair. "You need to burn them!"


    "Arcade!" I yelled, backing up. "Light ''em up! Torch the fuckers!"


    The room lit up like the surface of the sun. A plume of liquid fire shot out, washing over everything and flooding the hallway. From the looks of things, all the monsters - Keely called them spore carries, right? - were caught in the torrential me. By the time the fire died down, all that was left was a few charred, ckened corpses.


    "What the fuck were those things?" I asked, as soon as I found my voice again. Keely checked her rifle, and reloaded the microfusion cell.


    "The former inhabitants of this Vault," Keely growled, checking each of the corpses carefully; she didn''t even wait for bodies to stop smoldering. "The corpses have been eaten from the inside out and taken over by colonies of entomopathogenic fungi, called Beauveria Mordicana." She turned to Arcade and Veronica. "If you don''t want to turn into <em>those</em>, I suggest you two take those injections."


    Keely was leading the way, deeper into the Vault, with Arcade right behind. It seemed like every corner we got to, she had him flush it out with a burst from the methrower. We''d seen a few more spore carriers, but Arcade''s methrower seemed to do the trick. Eventually, she led us into arge atrium, dominated by threerge vines as thick as tree trunks in the center.


    "Where are we going?" Veronica asked after a while.


    "The lowest level of the Vault. If the data I''ve collected is correct, the concentration of spores is highest there. If we can find the source, then we can detonate this:" Keely reached into her satchel, and pulled out what was obviously a bomb, but it was surrounded by several vials of glowing blue liquid wired into it. "When this goes boom, it''ll spread an airborne version of that antimycoticpound into the air, and trigger a chain reaction that... <em>should</em> clear out all the spores. Trouble is, I''ve never been able to get down deep enough for it to be effective."


    "So, what the fuck happened down here?" I asked, trying to keep pace. Keely growled out augh.


    "What do you think?" The ghoul growled. "It''s just the side effects of this Vault''s... <em>experiment</em>." She spat out the word with visible disgust. I was just confused.


    "Experiment? What are you talking about?" Keely stopped in her tracks mid-stride, and walked past Arcade to stare at me with narrowed eyes. She looked me up and down, scrutinizing me, with an expression on her skinless face like she couldn''t believe I''d just said that.


    "You really don''t know, do you?" Keely asked. When I didn''t answer after a few seconds, she sighed heavily and shook her head. "The Vaults were never meant to <em>save</em> anyone..."


    "They weren''t?" Boone asked.


    "I thought the Vaults were supposed to be fallout shelters?" I asked. Keely turned and walked away, shaking her head and continuing to talk as we moved; obviously, she didn''t want to stay in one ce too long. That was just asking to get ambushed by more spore carriers.


    "Do you know how many people were living in the United States in 2077?" she asked.


    "Just under 400 million," Arcade rattled off. That was surprising - he''d been pretty quiet for a while. Keely nodded.


    "Exactly. At most, a Vault can hold up to a thousand people. Do you know how many Vaults were constructed for the public use? <strong>122</strong>. Do the math." Keely snorted - quite a feat without a nose. "The Vault program was a scam from the start, and if that was where it ended, that would be bad enough. But..." Keely sighed heavily. "There''s more to the Vaults than most people know..."


    "So... what were the Vaults for then?" I asked. That sinking feeling was crawling in my stomach again. Everyone was paying attention, now - even Boone.


    "The Vault program was a massive social experiment, engineered by Vault-Tec and bankrolled by the Enve. They wanted to see how humans would react to various different environments, and the stresses of istion for extended periods. Technically, they wanted to test the feasibility of travelling to another world and colonizing it after this one had been blown to shit, but when you''ve explored as many Vaults as I have, you can just tell that the Vault-Tec engineers were just taking the piss at the end. Almost every Vault I''ve been to had a different ''experiment'' and they''ve all been nuts. Some of them were innocent enough, but most of them ended up like this ce: everyone dead, and filled with dangerous monsters and hazards to rival the most hellish parts of the wastes.."


    "Hang on," Veronica chimed in. "You said all of this was a side effect of this Vault''s experiment. What <em>was</em> the experiment?"


    "This Vault didn''t have any food extruders, like a lot of the others," Keely punched a door control that led into another hallway. "In order to feed the poption, the scientists living here had to develop nts that could grow in incredibly hostile conditions - low or artificial light, no water, cold temperatures, highlypacted soil - but could still produce enough food to feed the Vault''s poption."


    "Didn''t really go their way, did it?" Boone asked. Keely shook her head.


    "It worked <em>too</em> well, is what happened. They just didn''t ount for any of the side effects. Now shut up and check your corners." Keely held up a fist as she checked around a nearby corner; after a few seconds, she motioned with her hand for us to keep following. "We''re bound to run into some Man-eaters soon."


    "Man-eaters?" I asked, soft as I could.


    "Don''t know if you''ve noticed," Keely growled. "But all the nt life here is mutated, and a lot of it is sapient. The worst ones are what the scientists called ''Species BE908''. I call them Man-eaters becau-" She cut herself off, stopping just shy of the door at the end of the hall. "Shh! Hear that?" There was a strange sort of burbling growling from the next room. She pressed herself up against the nearby wall, herser rifle at the ready. I edged past her to try and get a better look at what she was talking about.


    There were tworge patches of foliage overflowing out of the center of the room, and in the middle of each was... well, I could only assume these things were what Keely was talking about. They looked like a pair of giant Venus Fly Traps, each of them as tall and wide as I was, but they were <em>moving</em>... and <em>growling</em>. Their giant mouths were swinging around on thick stalks, like they were almost sniffing around for prey; at the base of each stalk was a twisting mass of vines, moving and slithering along the floor like tentacles. The two nts turned to... er... <em>face</em> me as I looked inside, and hissed, opening their spiny-toothed maws as wide as they could.


    "Whoa!" I ducked back behind the wall just as a pair of thick heavy spines flew through the air and embedded themselves in the opposite wall. The next thing I knew, the tentacle-vines were trying to follow, wildly iling in the direction of the door, but were too short to reach.


    "Man-eaters prefer tight spots," Keely growled, letting out a grim chuckle.


    "I''m... not even gonna touch that one," I shook my head. "Let me guess, guns don''t work on these either, right?" Keely shrugged.


    "Dunno. I knowsers work."


    "Right, fuck it. We don''t have time to deal with this." I pulled a sma grenade off my belt, and tossed it in the room. "Fire in the hole!"


    Eventually, after fighting through a few more spore carriers (and torching every man-eater we came across) the five of us found ourselves on the lowest level of the Vault. Keely led us to arge steel door with a hatch-wheel in the center, then shoved a metal keycard into a panel next to the door. The wheel started to spin around, the door opened up with a hiss. Beyond the door was a jagged mass of rocks with a steadily growing mesh of nts, moss, and grasses growing out of the cracks. The tunnel was dimly lit by rather regr patches of bio-luminescent mushrooms.


    "This is it," Keely said, peering around carefully. "All the data I''ve collected on the spores suggests their origin is somewhere inside here."


    "What the fuck are we walking into down here?" I asked, crossing the threshold into the cave. It felt <em>even hotter</em> down here than the rest of the Vault, amazingly enough. We barely got twenty feet into the cave before all the various nts and mosses covering the cave floor, walls, and ceiling got even thicker. Thankfully, we didn''t see any more of those man-eaters.


    "No idea." Keely growled, herser rifle at the ready. "Don''t trust anything - any nt could be connected." Suddenly, the cave seemed to widen. The mushrooms had been enough to illuminate the tunnel, but the cavern had now be so huge, that the ceiling waspletely obscured by darkness... almost. Ahead of us, however, was a small light source: a patch of nts that was illuminated by some glowing orange orbs. It almost looked like fruit.


    "Connected?" Veronica asked. "Connected to <em>what</em>?"


    A rumble echoed through the cavern from the darkness. It was impossibly loud and low, and the whole cavern shook from the massive noise.


    "What was that?" I tried to yell over the noise, looking around. "Is it an earthquake?"


    The cavern shook violently again, and the patch of vegetation illuminated by the fruit exploded from the inside out. Huge tentacles as thick as tree trunks shot up, wrapping themselves around the stctites in the ceiling. A cloud of dark-green gas burst up and out, flowing out like a stupidly thick cloud of fog. A mouth - simr to the man-eaters, but ten times bigger - rose up on a thick neck-stalk, growling and snarling and thrashing. It opened up its massive maw, filled with row after row of thick dark-brown spines like teeth and strange orange and green fluids dripping out and onto the ground in huge buckets - to say nothing of the dozens of tentacle-vines sticking out of the center of its mouth iling and writhing and thrashing around. It pointed the open mouth down, almost like it was looking at us... and roared.


    "No!" Keely yelled, backing up with a look of horror on her face. "Worse!"

 Chapter 84: Herbicide

    Chapter 84: Herbicide


    The nt roared, snarling and spewing a viscous ichor that rained down on us in a thick torrent of sludge. The whole cavern shook from the sound, and it felt like my eardrums were ready to bust. That''s when it brought down the closest of the tree-trunk... vine... tentacles, whatever they were, and started swinging it down - directly on top of our heads.


    "SCATTER!" I yelled. I had no idea if anyone even heard me over the deafening roar. I didn''t bother to look back; I just gripped the G36 tight and ran as fast as I could. The ground heaved up when the massive tentacle finally hit, and it damn near knocked me off my feet.


    I was running on instinct, and right now my instincts were telling me to run, fittingly enough. Not to get away, mind you, but to try and find a way behind it. This nt, whatever it was, was obviously the source of the spores, so the best course of action was to get behind it and try and kill it... somehow. And I felt I was doing pretty well, running around through the thick foliage and popping off a few bursts from the carbine in my hands (the damn thing was so massive, any of the shots aimed vaguely in its direction were bound to hit <em>something</em>).


    Of course, that was the moment something grabbed hold of my ankle, and pulled.


    I mmed face-first into the ground. Whatever had hold of my leg hadn''t let go, and was starting to slither up as it dragged me across the carpet of nts. I pushed up and off, twisting around in time to see three of the normal sized (Hah! Like anything about this was normal!) man-eater nts staring at me; the one in the center was the ched to my leg.


    "Fuck off!" I shouted, aiming the carbine in my hands and letting off a burst of fire. A few bursts of greenish-purple fluid erupted from the man-eater in the center, but it didn''t loosen its hold on me. Before I got a chance to fire again, a foot came out of nowhere, stomped down hard on the vine, and an armored form with a fuel tank strapped to his back stepped between me and the nts that were trying to eat me.


    "Go!" Arcade yelled, dousing the man-eaters in a stream of liquid fire. In an instant, the cavern wall caught fire and everything green and growing was bathed in a bright orange glow. "I''ll deal with these! You need to kill the big one!"


    I didn''t bother to respond. I just yanked the now motionless vine off my ankle and got back on my feet. The cavern shook again, and I saw the giant nt in the center of the cavern try and lunge at something off to my left. It roared and another cloud of gas erupted from the open maw. I fired round after round into it until the G36 ran dry.


    One of the massive tentacles swung through the air,ing perilously close to my head. Reflexively, I ducked just in time to hear a crack like a thunderbolt echo through the chamber. Suddenly, a massive hole appeared in the middle of the tentacle, and a sickly green fluid started gushing everywhere. I tried to trace the source of the shot as I attempted to get out of the way, and managed to catch a glimpse of Boone on the far side of the cavern. He was perched on a high ledge with the Gobi Campaign Scout Rifle in hand.


    I tried to think: how many grenades did I have left? I didn''t have time to check the exact number; I just grabbed one of the grenades hanging off the harness on my armor, primed it, and chucked it as hard as I could in the direction of the giant nt. There was a bright sh of green light, and a ball of sma exploded against the side of the monstrous nt. It let out a howl of pain, and when the cloud of sma-gas finally dissipated enough, I saw that it was bleeding something greenish-brown from a messy gash in the giant stalk right underneath the huge mouth.


    It was still smaller than you''d expect from the kind of damage a sma grenade should cause, but fuck - progress is progress, right?


    "Shea!" I heard a gravelly voice yell amid the rumble and roar, and tried to pinpoint it; Keely was off in a corner of the cave, behind the giant thrashing nt. "Get over here!" She yelled, waving me over, before leveling herser rifle and hitting it with ance of bright green light.


    I started running, changing magazines in my carbine as I ran. The ground shook again, and practically split in half ahead of me as another tentacle burst up and into the air. I dodged, leaping out of the way, rolled under it as it tried to take a swing, and just kept going until I''d slid to a halt in Keely''s hideaway. I managed to catch a glimpse of a pair of man-eaters behind her that were riddled withser burns and obviously dead.


    "What?!" I barked, pressing my back into the wall and pulling back the charging handle. "I''m a little busy at the moment!" I took aim, and let out another burst of fire. Off in the distance, I could see a column of fire on one side of the giant nt, and the distinctive glint of metal from Oh, Baby! as Veronica smashed the tentacles near her in half - even the ones as thick as tree trunks.


    "That''s the source of the spores!" Keely fired two more bursts of greenser fire at the mutant nt before ejecting the spent MF-cell. I pulled another grenade off my chest and threw it - the frag grenade exploded near the base of the nt in a cluster of fire and shrapnel but didn''t seem to do much in the way of hurting it.


    "Yeah, tell me something I don''t know, genius!" I yelled back. I was about to fire again, but Keely grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back, deeper into cover. The next thing I knew, she was shoving something metal and cylindrical against my chest.


    "The bomb! The n!" Keely got right in my face, making sure I had a good hold on the bomb she was shoving into my hands. "Set the timer, and get that thing to EAT this! When it explodes, it''ll trigger the chain reaction!" I held the bomb against my chest, and Keely grabbed herser rifle, reloading and firing at the giant nt again. "Go! I''ll cover you!"


    "How long do I set the timer for?" I asked, suddenly feeling a bit wary and altogether uneasy about holding this bomb. I had no idea how big the st was going to be - and how the hell was I even going to get the nt to <em>eat </em>it, anyway?


    "A minute!" She growled, firing off anotherser st. "Thirty seconds if you''re feeling lucky! Just get it in the thing''s mouth! The jaws should snap shut just like a regr fly-trap nt! NOW GO!" She grabbed me by the shoulder, and shoved me out of her patch of cover, just as the giant nt roared again, shaking the whole ce with the sound. Or maybe it was the fact that it was thrashing so much...


    Against every impulse in my brain telling me to run as far away from this giant mutant nt as I could, I found myself running at full tilt <em>toward</em> it, with no weapons drawn and a bomb tucked tightly under my arms like a football. This was not how I was expecting today to go, let me tell you.


    The cave shook again, and I saw the giant nt ahead of me - it almost looked like it was trying to uproot itself, the way its whole mass had shifted off to the side. Or maybe it was trying to get away from the fire. I have to hand it to Arcade; he was doing really well - and he was surprisingly agile for someone carrying a 50-pound methrower on his back.


    A vine crashed down a few feet ahead of me; it was like someone had chopped down a redwood tree. I couldn''t even climb over it, it was so massive. I think my only saving grace was that the nt wasn''t trying to hit <em>me</em>. Its attention was currently focused on Veronica.


    She was practically flying through the air, havingunched herself off one of the giant stgmites, and mmed Oh, Baby! into the top of the nt''s... er, <em>head</em>. The nt spasmed, and she dug the handle of her super sledge into the side of its neck on her way down, and left a gushing trail of green as she slid down... and that gave me an idea.


    Quick as I could, I punched a minute into the bomb''s timer, then pulled one of thebat knives off my boot. Just as the tentacle started to lift up off the ground, I sank the knife into the side as hard as I could and held on tight. My feet left solid ground, and it was like the bottom of my gut dropped out from under me.


    This may not have been the best idea after all.


    No time to think about that, though. There it was - the snarling, wide-open mouth of the mutant nt, right in front of me like a target. I tried to nt my feet against the side of the thick tentacle, and reared back my hand so I could put as much strength into my throw as possible...


    The mutant nt roared, sting me in the face with a burst of gas that felt like a hurricane. I was knocked off my feet and felt myself tumble for only half a second. The next thing I knew, I was upside down, hanging by my feet as one of the smaller tentacles iling and squirming out of its open mouth held me in a grip like a vice.


    I barely knew which way was up - I just knew that I''d dropped the bomb. The gigantic teeth and spike filled green maw of the nt that had me in it''s grip was open wide poised and ready to swallow me whole.


    "Eat this!" I yelled, grabbing one of the few grenades left on my chest harness. I tossed the tiny orb into the writhing mass of tentacles. There was a green sh and I was hit with a shockwave as the sma grenade detonated - and then I was falling.


    I''m just d I was wearing the helmet. Falling on my head didn''t do me any favors, but at least it didn''t kill me. My head was spinning, and I could barely make out what was in front of me. My head finally stopped spinning long enough for me to register the object only a few inches away from my face:


    The bomb. Fifteen seconds left on the fuse.


    I summoned every ounce of strength I had left and pushed myself off the ground and swept up the bomb in one swift motion. I looked up and saw the giant nt monster looming down over me. The sma grenade that went off in its mouth had shredded the tentacles, but hadn''t quite obliterated thempletely. It was gushing that viscous green fluid, and spraying it everywhere when it roared.


    I nted my feet, drew back the hand carrying the bomb, and threw it as hard as I could directly into the center of its mouth. The shredded tentacles all seemed to reflexively wrap around it, and as soon as the metal cylinder was out of sight, the jaws snapped shut.


    Everything and everyone seemed to stop at once. The nt stopped thrashing, and its head recoiled back, like it was surprised. Even the mes licking the mutants backside seemed to die down slightly. It pointed its head up at the ceiling, and the neck-stalk convulsed. The gash left by Veronica''s trip down bulged outward for half a second, green fluid spraying and gushing out in great torrents - and then the whole thing burst.


    The entire side of its neck, right below the oversized head-mouth, was ripped apart from the inside in a massive fireball, sending chunks of nt flesh and yellowish-green goo in every direction. It was a kaleidoscope of color and noise, followed by a second explosion - but not of fire. A huge cloud of blue gas exploded outward, filling the whole chamber. Even after the initial explosion, the nt just kept ripping itself apart...


    "Look out!" Veronica yelled, just before tackling me. I''d been so caught up in surprise that something had actually gone <em>right</em> for a change that I''dpletely failed to notice the freshly decapitated head of the giant nt monster about to fall on top of me.


    "So, is that it? Are the spores all destroyed?" I asked. It was about fifteen minutester. Keely had led us out of the cave and away from the corpse of the giant mutant nt (which, when we left, had started dissolving into a blue mist). We were now walking through the metal corridors of the Vault.


    "I think so," Keely growled a response, rounding a corner. She slid another metal keycard into a slot on the nearby wall, and the door slid up. "I''m just going to have to check something..."


    "You think so?" I asked, following her into the room. It was dimly lit, but it looked like the walls were lined withputer mainframes. "Wait, what do you mean you think so? Wasn''t the whole n to use the bomb at the source of the spores, which would cause a chain reaction?" Keely snorted, shaking her head.


    "Yeah... that was definitely the n. But the source of the spores was only a theory until I actually saw the damn thing."


    "Is that why we''re in the server room?" Arcade asked, looking around.


    "This is the server room?" Boone chimed in. Keely made a beeline for a terminal mounted on the wall at the far end of the room.


    "Yes," she growled, striking a few keys to wake up the wall-mountedputer. "When I first arrived, I set up aboratory on the second level, and hooked up a terminal with a remote link to the Vault mainframework. From here, I should be able to ess all the data from the spectrometers I''ve ced on every level of the Vault, and that should confirm if the spores have been destroyed or not... only..." Keely stepped away from the terminal, started walking toward me, and reached into her satchel. "There''s a sort of hitch."


    "Yeah?" I asked, raising an eyebrow underneath my helmet. "What is it now?"


    "I''m going to need a little help essing the files. It can only be essed by a duel key encryption program on my Pip Boy, but the operating system has crashed." I was surprised by the fact that she imed to have a Pip Boy, but the device she pulled out of her satchel looked nothing like the device I had on my arm. It was a small dark-brown metal box with a screen, some buttons, and a light behind a mesh grill on the front. "Think I can use yours for a minute? I need to use it to reset the OS on mine."


    "Uh... sure," I said. "This isn''t gonna hurt is it?"


    "Not unless you''re particrly vulnerable to electrostatic shock." She took out a cable from her satchel, and connected the box to my Pip Boy.


    "So, that''s a Pip Boy too, huh?" I asked, pointing at the small box in her hands. She coughed out a smallugh.


    "What, did you think you were the only one with a Pip Boy?" As she tapped a few buttons on her metal box, she shrugged. "Of course, I''m not all fancy-schmancy with a 3000 model like you. This is just the 2000 model. Not even the plus version."


    "So... what? The 3000 is more advanced?" I asked. The screen on the metal box in her hands suddenly lit up, and lines of code started going in rapid fire up and down the screen. Keely grunted and screwed her face up.


    "Ehhh... in some respects. But I''ve never really been a fan. Some of the design features of the 3000 could fall a little easier to hand, ergonomically speaking. If the knobs and control were on the right side of the screen instead of the left, you wouldn''t have to cover it with your hand whenever you tried to use them." Keely sighed out augh. "Ah well. Ergonomics weren''t particrly important for designers in thete 2050''s anyway."


    "You know, I never really noticed that problem," I said, looking down at the wristputer. "VATS is nice, though." Keely shrugged again, pulling the plug out of my Pip Boy, and connecting it into the side of the wall terminal.


    "Yeah, but it''s a crutch... " Keely started typing away on the keyboard, but kept talking. "The mapmaking feature is much more detailed on the 2000, which is better for me, and aside from the OS crashing every decade or so, all the other features I use are pretty much the same as the more advanced model." Keely looked over her shoulder, and smirked a cracked grin. "So I''m not going to trade it in any time soon."


    "Wait, did you say every <em>decade </em>or so?" Veronica asked from behind me. "Heh... yeah, that seems like a major inconvenience."


    "It is for someone like me," Keely growled. "You live into your two-hundreds, and you''ll see how fast a decade passes... sometimes it feels like I blink, and another decade is gone."


    "Two hundred years?" Arcade seemed impressed. "You must have been... I mean, I''m sure you have some stories."


    "You could say that," Keely kept her back to us, but I could almost hear the smirk in her voice. "But to be honest, I enjoy being a rtive nobody. I was a nobody before the bombs dropped, and I''m a nobody now. Things are simpler when you''re a nobody."


    "Is that so?" I asked. For some reason, I felt like she was directing that at me specifically, but... why would she do that... unless...


    "Sure," Keely responded. "Get yourself known, people start noticing you, you get wrapped up in events out of your control... and then you get a target painted on your back. I''ve seen it before. I''m sure I''ll see it again in the future. But I''m <em>absolutely </em>sure you''ve started to notice that yourself - isn''t that right, <strong>Courier</strong>?" Keely nced over her shoulder and smirked.


    "What makes you so sure I''m the Courier?" I asked. I barely finished speaking before Keely startedughing.


    "Oh,e on. I''m not stupid. Honestly, it wasn''t really all that hard to figure out - but I was thrown off a bit, by theck of that robot of yours that I''ve heard about." I felt my eye involuntarily twitch. Why was everyone so interested in ED-E?


    "He''s on a leave of absence." I said without a hint of irony, and kept going before she could question. "So, what''s the deal with the spores? Are they gone or not?"


    "The spectrometers on every level areing back clean. Looks like the n worked. Only one thing left to do - delete all the research that led to the creation of that monstrosity in the cave."


    "Wait -" Veronica spoke up, grabbing Keely by the shoulder. "You''re going to delete the files? Everything?"


    "Of course. If the data the scientists collected here were to fall into the wrong hands - say, for instance, doctor Hildern-" She cast a nce at me as she said that. "...then all of this could happen all over again, especially considering his inept and cavalier disregard of any kind of safety protocols. Except this time, the madness wouldn''t be confined to a musty, abandoned Vault. It would spread all over the wastnd, growing and spreading, consuming everything. Do you want that on your conscience? I sure as hell don''t."


    "But... I mean... isn''t there <em>anything</em> in the data that can be used? Something not dangerous?" Veronica looked worried, and I couldn''t me her. With the ARCHIMEDES satellite gone, that meant there was only two options left for her to try and convince McNamara - and if the data here was destroyed, that meant thest option was the Pulse Gun, and we''d have to put all our chips on that.


    "Hildern put you up to this, didn''t he?" Keely''s expression darkened considerably as she looked around the room at all of us. I had to defuse this situation, and fast.


    "No. Well... yes, he did <em>technically</em> hire us to find the data, but after what I''ve seen here, I wouldn''t give him the data for my own personal bottlecap press. No, Veronica here was..." I sighed, walked up behind Veronica, and set my hand on her shoulder. "V...e on. The farming technology you were looking for doesn''t exist. Nothing here is farming tech. Not anymore. It''s already been weaponized. Do you <em>really</em> want to show something like this to McNamara?" Veronica worked her mouth open and closed a few times, looking at me sadly... then she grimaced and shook her head.


    "No... no, you''re right. Go ahead. Wipe it."


    "I already wiped it when your back was turned," Keely said tly. "It''s done. We can rest easy now."


    "Actually, there is one other thing," I said. Keely raised an eyebrow on her skinless face. "I heard there were some HEPA 20 cartridge filters here. Do you know where we can find some?"


    "Oh, that''s all you''re looking for?" Keely asked, sounding a bit relieved. "There''s a whole maintenance area on the second level, just outside Oxygen Recycling. If you need to find some, that''s where they''d be. Hell, they''re probably still wrapped up in the factory packaging."


    "Oh, man!" Keely looked up andughed as she set foot outside, past the giant gear-shaped Vault door. "It''s so nice to feel the sun again! I''ve been cooped up in there, trying to fix that unholy mess for DAYS!"


    "Wow, you weren''t kidding when you said ''chain reaction,'' were you?" Arcade said, looking around. "I was half expecting you to ask me to methrower the whole entrance, but... I''m not really sure that''s necessary." I looked around as well, and... well, it was amazing. The nts that were spilling out of the Vault door already appeared to be dying off. Some of the smaller nts had shriveled into brown, dried husks. There were no vines at all.


    "Hey, I''m just d it worked at all," Keely said, resting herser rifle against her shoulder. "So... I suppose this is where we take our leave of each other, is it? Shame. I was starting to like working with you lot."


    "Well, you know... if you need a ride, I have a car. It''s just over there." I said, pointing to my Corvega still parked right where I left it. Keely let out a whistle when she noticed it.


    "Damn, I''d heard the Courier travelled in style. Didn''t quite believe it - certainly didn''t think your car had go-faster stripes." Keely smirked.


    "Can we go already?" Veronica asked, the HEPA filters (still in the hermetically sealed packages, just like Keely said) under her arms.


    "I''m with Veronica," Boone said from his spot at the rear-guard. "It was fun at first, but I''m tired of this piss-hole, and I want to go back home."


    "So, where''d you get thatser rifle that shoots green bolts?" I asked Keely on the ride back to Camp McCarran. "I''ve only seen a gatlingser fire green." She was in the back, in the seat behind me. Veronica was riding shotgun, with the filters on herp. Arcade (as usual) was riding bitch. He did manage to shove the methrower and his armor in my car''s trunk first, so it wasn''t as cramped as it <em>could</em> have been.


    "I found it my second day in the Vault. Apparently it''s an AER-14. Laser rifle prototype. Focus of 1064 nanometers, second harmonic generation of 532 nanometers, beam divergence of 8.18 peters per meter. No idea if it was part of the Vault''s armory, or if the skeleton holding it was the body of a scavenger who brought it with him. But it''s a nice rifle. I think I''ll probably keep it." Keely smirked, patting the rifle resting on herp.


    "So, do you do this a lot?" Arcade asked.


    "Do what?" Keely turned to him, a confused expression on her face.


    "Coming up with ns to save the wastnd without people being any the wiser, so you maintain your anonymity." Arcade said, borating. "Does that happen a lot?" Keely shrugged.


    "Not really. But 22 isn''t the first Vault I''ve been to..."


    "I kind of figured," I said. "You seemed pretty sure of what you told us about the experiments... Where''d you find out about all that stuff, anyway?"


    "Here and there. It wasn''t one specific Vault that tipped me off - it was a lot of little things in all the Vaults I''ve been to that all added up to the same conclusion. I think it all started when I found a few files in Vault City, that implied it was a ''Control Vault.'' After that... I couldn''t help but dig deeper, try and find things out." Keely snorted. "Williams thinks I''m just a scientist, but that''s just a hobby, really. I consider myself a Vault Hunter."


    "How many Vaults have you been to?" Arcade asked. "I mean, if you don''t mind me asking." Keely was quiet for a very long time.


    "You know... I''ve lost track," Keely slumped in her seat, and started rapping her fingers against the armrest in the car door. "I''ve been to a lot. Probably more than most. Maybe."


    "So, what kind of things have you found?" Veronica asked. "Anything as crazy as Vault 22?"


    "Depends on your definition of crazy," Keely said with a grim chuckle. "I mean... on the one hand, there was this one Vault I found - 53 - where all the equipment was designed to break down every few months. Apparently, it was intended to ''stress the inhabitants unduly,'' but what it ended up doing was causing people tomit suicide en masse after two decades. Most of them that I''ve been to were like that - little things that ended up causing massive disasters. But then there''s ces like Vault 69, where there were 999 women... and one man." The car was silent for a very long time. Keely decided to break the silence by adding: "That Vault was always going to end in tears."


    "So... was <strong>that</strong> one the craziest? Or does Vault 22 hold that dubious distinction?" I asked, almost frightened of the answer. Keely snorted.


    "I''m not sure... I know there''s one I''ve been to that I still haven''t figured out." Keely shook her head. "Vault 77."


    "Why?" Veronica asked. "What''d you find there?"


    "An empty Vault... and files about the experiment: one man and a crate of puppets."


    "What."


    "Keely!" Dr. Williams practically yelled. The dark-haired OSI scientist rushed forward and embraced the ghoul in a hug as soon as she made her presence known. "You''re alive!"


    "Alright, yes, I''m fine," Keely grimaced, trying to wriggle free of Williams'' grip. "Let go of me now, please. I''m too squishy for your bear hugs!"


    "Oh! Sorry... yeah, forgot." Williams backed off a few feet. "I''m just so happy to see you alive! I feared the worst, I thought something terrible had happened!"


    "Strictly speaking, something terrible <em>did</em> happen," I said, as nonchntly as I could. "But, it all worked out in the end." Williams turned to us, her smile almost audible it was so wide.


    "Do I have you to thank for helping Keely get back alive, then?" She asked. I shrugged.


    "To be honest, I''d say <em>she''s</em> more responsible for saving <em>us</em> than the other way around. It was, after all, her n that saved the day." Keely smirked.


    "I''d say we can all take equal credit on the ''saving the day and each others backsides'' front. I would''ve never been able to pull off that n on my own if you guys hadn''t shown up."


    "It''s all in a days work; no big deal," Veronica said with a smile.


    "Still... I can''t thank you enough!" Williams said, positively bouncing. Keely set a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.


    "You can thank <em>me</em> in a very specific way." Keely''s words positively dripped with menace. "Please tell me that ignorant, self-centered,pletely unqualified cloaca Hildern is in his office. There are some very important matters regarding the dozens of people that he sent to their deaths - including <em>me</em> - that I think he and I need to... <em>discuss</em>..."


    The next few minutes were hrious - trying to listen through the walls as Keely just absolutely ripped Hildern a new one, right there in his own office. Sadly, Williams made us promise that we wouldn''t hurt him. Shame. I think, after what happened, everyone wanted a crack at him. Hell, I would''ve been content just holding him down.


    "So..." Williams cleared her throat and approached me, a bit uncertainly. That''s when I remembered: I''m still wearing my damn helmet! Nobody''s shooting at me now, and it''s kind of hard to talk to a screen. I pulled off my helmet, and she seemed to rx. "What happened down in Vault 22? What killed all the mercenaries Dr. Hildern sent?"


    "Well..." I looked around at all my friends, trying to think of what to say (despite the distraction of the muffled yelling from the next room). "There were a lot of giant mutant mantises..."


    "Mutant fly-traps..." Veronica added.


    "Corpses reanimated by fungal colonies moving the bodies around..." Arcade chimed in.


    "And a giant mutated nt with jaws big enough to swallow us whole and tentacles like tree trunks." I said, thinking I was finishing it off. Williams looked stunned, and utterly disbelieving of everything we were saying.


    "So, the usual for us," Boone added. I looked over my shoulder at him, perplexed.


    "Wh - was that a joke?" I asked. Boone shrugged, a slight smirk edging into the corner of his mouth.


    "Maybe."

 Chapter 85: Intoxication

    Chapter 85: Intoxication


    A few hours after we settled everything in Vault 22, I found myself in the kitchen (aiming to fix myself a snack) when Veronica walked in.


    "Hey... uh... Sheason?" I turned at the sound and saw Veronica standing in the doorframe.


    "Yeah?" I pulled a beer out of the fridge, and cracked it open against the counter. "What''s up?" I don''t know why, but she seemed... a little ill-at-ease. Certainly not her usual bubbly, smiling, fake-happy self. If she wasn''t even bothering with the mask, then something was up.


    "I was... wondering... if you don''t... I mean... can I..." Veronica cleared her throat and straightened herself up. "I need to ask you a favor."


    "Sure, anything." I tried to hide my growing concern by drinking my beer as nonchntly as I could. "What do you need?"


    "Do you... think... maybe... you could..." Veronica sighed heavily. "Do you think you can talk to Cass for me?" The pit of my stomach dropped out.


    "Talk to Cass <em>for</em> you?" I asked, locking my jaw. Keep your face expressionless, man. Keep calm.


    "Yeah," Veronica nodded. "Yeah, that''s..."


    "Why?" I asked quickly. "I mean... why can''t you talk to her yourself? And about what?"


    "Well, it''s..." Veronica paused.


    "C''mon you can tell me."


    "It just... I dunno. I just feel like... something''s wrong. Maybe I''m just being paranoid, but..." She sighed again, hanging her head. "It''s like... It feels she''s been avoiding me thest couple of days. I just want to find out what''s wrong, but... On the off chance that she really <em>is</em> avoiding me for whatever reason..."


    "So you want me to talk to her?" Veronica nodded. "Why me?"


    "Because... you''re easy to talk to, I guess?" She smiled weakly and chuckled grimly. "You''re the reason she and I met in the first ce. Hell, you''re the only reason any of us are even <em>here</em>. You''re the glue that keeps us all together, so if she really is avoiding me... who else around could talk to her but you?"


    "V... Tell me honestly. What''s really going on?" I had a sinking sensation that I already knew what was going on. "Are you guys... having... problems?" Part of me wished I hadn''t said anything, just on the off chance I was right. Even so, it was pretty hard work, keeping my expression neutral. Veronica sighed.


    "I dunno. Honestly, I just... I don''t want to think about it, you know?" She looked back up at me with a heavy sadness in her eyes. "I mean, I''m not stupid. I know there''s <em>something</em> going on, I just don''t know what. But hey, maybe she''s not really avoiding me, and it''s just a stupid coincidence. But... I mean, thest time I... had a... you know, a <em>rtionship</em> - a <em>real </em>rtionship - with someone was... was Christine. And if..." Veronica trailed off, shaking her head again. She waved me off, and started to walk out. "Forget it. I''m sorry, I''m just... I think I''m just being paranoid. Paranoid and stupid, forget I said anything."


    "Wait, Veronica -" I started to follow her, looked down at my half finished beer, weighed the options in my head, shrugged, downed the rest, and tossed the empty bottle into the sink behind me. "Hold on a sec. Look, if you think something''s wrong - and you think I can help by talking to Cass - then... sure. I''ll go and talk to her, alright?"


    "I... thanks." Veronica started to slowly nod as I walked past her, making a beeline for Cass'' room. Even when I was out of view, I tried to maintainposure. I felt like a man who''d just gone and finished burying a body being asked to help find the killer. Just keep calm, Sheason.


    "Cass?" I rapped my knuckles against her door. "Cass, you in there?"


    Nothing.


    "Cass?" I tried the door handle - it wasn''t locked. I peeked my head in and looked around.


    "What? What is it? What''s wrong?" Veronica asked, walking up behind me.


    "She''s not in there," I sighed. "I shouldn''t be surprised, but..." I rubbed my eyes, trying toe to terms with the implications. "Right. I''ll go find her then... Damnit, I thought those two were going to keep her out of trouble."


    I was just about to call the elevator (after grabbing my hat from the peg just inside my room) so I could head upstairs, talk with the two scientists, and grab ED-E, when suddenly -


    Sombrero.


    I was sopletely thrown off guard by being face to face with a sombrero (and, obviously, the ghoul wearing it) that Ipletely forgot what I was doing, and just stared.


    "Raul?" Veronica asked; I didn''t look, but based on the sound she had followed in my lead and was staring as well. "Is that seriously you under that getup?"


    "Si, seorita," Raul looked up and smiled a broad, crooked smile. It wasn''t just the sombrero - he was wearing the whole vaquero outfit. A leather jacket, red bandana tied around his neck, a pair of leather chaps over jeans... and weapons. Lots of weapons. I saw at least two revolvers (one strapped to each hip)plete with fully loaded gun belts, a pair of knives crossed behind his belt buckle, two more revolvers under each arm inside his jacket, two fully loaded ammo bandoliers crossing over his chest (one loaded with shotgun shells, the other loaded with rifle ammunition), and a pair of bigger, lever-action guns strapped to his back. I couldn''t see from this angle, but if I had to guess, one was a rifle, and the other was a shotgun.


    "What are you wearing?" Veronica sounded like she was really trying to hold backughter. "You look ridiculous! That hat, especially."


    "Well, that''s a fine ''hello,'' isn''t it." He didn''t stop smiling that cracked, crooked smile as he walked out of the elevator. "It''s like I told you before, Boss. It''s time for the Ghost Vaquero to ride again."


    "So this is what you''ve been doing all day?" I asked. He nodded, and I couldn''t help but shake my head a little. "You know, when you said you were going to get your guns, I was thinking... you know, maybe one or two, not..."


    "What''s the problem, Boss?" Raul leaned back, grabbing hold of his jacketpels. "Not interested in a littlepetition in the ''carrying an armory department?"


    "No, no..." I shook my head and waved it off. "No, I''m fine with that. Wear as many guns as you want. More firepower the better, I say." I looked him over again, still a bit... I mean, he looked like he stepped straight out of one of those old west holotapes! "Seriously though, did it take you all day to find this? I thought you said it was at your safehouse."


    "Oh, no, Boss," Raul shook his head. "No, it didn''t take me all day to <em>find</em> it. Finding it was the easy part." He balled his right hand into a fist, and rapped his knuckles against his chest several times; each impact resonated with a resounding ng. "Making it bulletproof - that was the bitch."


    The penthouse at the top of the 38 was no longer as clean or spartan as I remembered it from thest time I was up here. Standing next to the main monitor was a single Securitron, connected to the console by dozens (possibly hundreds) of cables and wires snaking out and all across the floor. There were plenty of other things that April and Emily had brought up to help them work: a pair of desks, several terminals (also hooked up to Yes Man''s mainframe just like the Securitron), a few servers, holotapes scattered everywhere, even a couple of file cabs apparently stuffed full of papers and clipboards and who knows what else.


    "Man, I should start calling this the science corner. You guys have really settled in up here, haven''t you?"


    There was something missing from this scene: the scientists themselves. For that matter, I didn''t know where ED-E was either. I could <em>hear </em>him, buzzing around somewhere, beeping out some kind of tuneless melody, but I couldn''t see any of them.


    "Hey, where the hell are you guys?" I asked, looking around. The response came from somewhere behind me, on the other side of the penthouse.


    "We''re over here, in the kitchen!"


    "Wait, kitchen? This ce has a kitchen?" I asked, following the voice. "I didn''t know this ce had a kitchen..." Sure enough, the two of them looked like they were getting ready to sit down at the table for a meal, while ED-E hovered above them. April was hunched over in the fridge, while Emily smiled at me as I came into view, giving me a vague half-salute with her cup of tea.


    "Hey there, Sheason. What can we do for you?"


    "Just wondering if you guys know where Cass is - you know, since you guys said you''d keep an eye on her. I can''t find her anywhere." Emily furrowed her brow, and scratched her head, ruffling her red hair and causing her sses to slip.


    "Hmm... not sure. Thest time either of us saw her, she was passed out on her bed."


    "You really think it''s a good idea to leave someone <strong>that</strong> drunk just passed out?" I asked, a bit concerned. April emerged out of the fridge, carrying a ss of brahmin milk and knocking the door closed with her hips.


    "She wasn''t drunk when we left." April said simply, grabbing a seat. "She was fine, at least two hours ago."


    "What do you mean, fine?" I asked. "She''d been drinking for, like, 12 hours straight before I came up to get you guys." Emily shrugged, drinking her tea.


    "I mean, she was fine. I gave her a breathalyzer and ran a chemical test on a sample of her blood. As far as I could tell, her blood-alcohol content was negligible. Less than 0.02%." That was surprising - I knew the Followers taught all their members how to help deal with drunks, but I didn''t think the <emputer programmer</em> would be the one administering the tests. Then again, with the amount of alcoholics in Freeside, it would make sense when the Followers at the Mormon Fort needed all hands on deck... "Either she didn''t drink as much as she led you to believe -"


    "Seems unlikely," I mused out loud.


    " - or, her body metabolizes ethanol at a speed I''ve never seen before."


    "Maybe she wasn''t kidding when she said her liver was indestructible?" April said with a chuckle, drinking her ss of milk.


    "I don''t know about that," Emily set down her tea. "But it''s possible it may have something to do with her irregr heartbeat. Those palpitations weren''t really worrying; just odd. I''d have to call in help from someone like Jonas or Lydia - someone who actually specializes in medicine - to know for certain..." Okay, this isn''t going anywhere. I sighed and looked up.


    "Hey, ED-E?" The eyebot zoomed down, buzzing a few feet away from my face. "I''m gonna need your nose. Well..." I grimaced at the poor choice of words, scratching the back of my head. "I say nose, I mean your scanners. You''re better at finding people than I am." ED-E bobbed in ce, letting out a trio of satisfied sounding beeps.


    By the time ED-E and I left the 38, it was already dark. Then again, it was getting dark earlier and earliertely - I think the sun set at four-thirty or five today. I used to hate the days getting shorter, since less daylight meant there was more chance of something ambushing you in the darkness, and you wouldn''t even get a chance to see what wasing to kill you. But sinceing to Vegas and taking up residence in the Lucky 38, where I could fall asleep without worrying... I''ll be honest: I hadn''t really given it much thought.


    I started walking down the steps of the Lucky 38, ED-E floating in the air right beside me, when I realized there was a man standing at the base of the stairs. It was almost like he was waiting for me. He wore a dark grey suit with light grey pinstripes that seemed a bit worn-out, run down, and fraying at the edges. He was wearing a matching fedora hat and a pair of sunsses (despite the darkness - maybe it was the reduce the re of neon lights on the strip?). He seemed familiar, but I couldn''t quite ce it...


    "Excuse me, sir?" The man nodded at me as I walked down the stairs in his direction. "Are you the man they call Courier Six?"


    "Uh..." I paused mid-stride, looking over at ED-E. The robot let out a confused chirp. "Sorry, who are you again?"


    "Me? Um... we''ve never met before. I''m just a messenger. My boss, Swank, gave me instructions to find you." And suddenly, his familiar look clicked in my head.


    "Wait, Swank? Are you... you''re one of the Chairmen, aren''t you?" He nodded. "Are you here to kill me?" I asked, adjusting my stance and nting my back foot. "Because... that''s... not going to work out well. For... anyone." He seemed confused.


    "Uh... no. I''m not stupid enough to pick a fight with Courier Six, even if I wanted to. And I don''t. I''m just here to deliver a letter," He reached into his coat, and I reflexively tensed up, my hand reaching for Roscoe on my hip... but let out a sigh of relief when he just pulled out a folded piece of paper. "He told me to deliver this to you, the next time I saw you leave the Lucky 38. That''s all." I raised an eyebrow, carefully taking the piece of paper from him. He nodded and walked away as I unfolded it and started reading:


    <em>Sheason Fisher - or should I call you Courier Six? - the next time you get a chance, I''d like you to meet me at my office at the top of The Phoenix, one of the casinos on The Strip. There''s some business I''d like to discuss that I think you''d be interested in.</em>


    <em>-Swank</em>


    "... Huh." I finally said aloud after reading the short letter several times. I turned to ED-E. "So? What do you make of this? Think it''s a trap, or what?" ED-E responded with a series ofplicated andpletely unintelligible beeps. I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "Right. I can''t understand your responses. Why haven''t I learned that yet?" ED-E let out a pulsating squawk. I shook my head and startedughing.


    "So, this is where she is?" I asked. ED-E beeped cheerfully... and I sighed heavily. "Why am I not surprised."


    Of course it was a bar. The building was a few blocks directly south of the intersection of Freemont Street and Vegas Boulevard, but unlike most of the bars in Freeside, this ce didn''t really have a sign over the door. It just said "BAR" above the door. As soon as I entered, I could tell that this was the dive bar to end all dive bars. The ce was crowded, noisy, and filled with a pall of heavy smoke hanging in the air. It had the distinct and pungent aroma of stale beer, vomit, and piss. The lights in the ceiling were all different colors - reds, blues, greens, yellows, purples - and were a mish-mash of spotlights, normal light bulbs, and strings of Christmas lights. I couldn''t see any of the walls, not because the light was too dim, but because they were almostpletely covered with stickers, posters, artwork painted on the walls and over the stickers and posters of things like deathws, cazadores, and mushroom clouds, and crude graffiti. Instead of a mirror behind the bar, there was arge message scrawled in white paint which read: "DRINK FUCK FIGHT." On the opposite wall, there was another sign, just asrge, scribbled in red paint: "SHUT UP AND DRINK FUCKERS."


    There was a part of me that was tempted to stay - find Cass, wherever she was in here and just get fucked up with her. I can appreciate a good, seedy dive bar, and this ce? This ce had <em>character</em>. It reminded me of some of the bars I''d been to in New Reno - Jub Jub''s, especially. But... now was not the time for that. I made a mental note toe back when I wasn''t busy.


    I shoved my way through the crowd, looking around the bar to try and find my quarry. It was surprisingly difficult because of the off-key band ying very, very loud at the back of the bar making it so hard to focus on anything. Eventually though, I managed to pick out Cass'' rattan hat and her red hair underneath, hunched over at the bar, and made a beeline for her.


    "...and so then, th'' guy says to her ''It''s not a bagpipe,ss, but keep blowin''!" The two people on either side of her startedughing, and she knocked back a shot, upending it on the bar. "Ah! Damn, that was good! Another!"


    "Cass." I spoke up right behind her. No response. "Cass!" Still nothing. "CASS!" I grabbed her by the shoulder, and spun her around on the barstool. The shot in her hands sloshed out of the ss thanks to the sudden motion, and I suddenly found the front of my shirt covered in liquor.


    "Aw, fer fucks sake! What th'' fuckin'' - oh!" Cass looked angry and confused right up until her eyes focused and she looked up at me. "Hey, Sheas''n! Funny meetin'' you here! Siddown, ''ave a drink!" She tried turning around on her stool, but I grabbed her by her shoulder again, keeping her facing me.


    "Cass, we need to talk," I tried to yell loud enough for her to hear over the noise. "Time to go."


    "Aw, c''mon ya fuckin'' killjoy!" Cass draped an arm around my neck, pulling me down and shoving a ss of beer in my face (spilling some on the bar). "Just a few more -" I wriggled out of her grip and turned her around in the barstool again, staring her down with my best "I''m not fucking around" look.


    "<strong>No</strong>. No more. We need to go. <strong>Now</strong>." I tried pulling her out of the stool fully, but she grabbed the edge of the bar, and resisted any attempt to move.


    "Hey, fuck off man! I''m not done yet!" She reached for the next shot on the bar, but I grabbed her by the hand and forced it back down. "Fucker! C''mon, what th'' fuck''s yer problem today?!"


    "We need to talk!" I yelled in her face. "And I can''t <strong>do</strong> that if I have to keep <strong>screaming</strong> just to be fucking <strong>heard</strong>!" I grabbed both her arms and finally dislodged her from her seat at the bar.


    "<strong>HEY!</strong>" A loud voice boomed over themotion before I could move. Arge hairy arm reached across the bar and grabbed mine with a grip like a vice. The arm belonged to a huge, portly man wearing a dirty, beer-stained apron. He had a scraggly mess of a beard topped with an impably groomed mustache that curled up at both ends; it contrasted with hispletely shaved head, and the eyepatch that covered his obviously scarred right eye. "And just where do you think you''re going?" He snarled.


    "She''s had enough," I snarled right back at him.


    "No I haven''t, fuck off!" Cass struggled against my grip and socked me in the arm, but I didn''t let go. Not yet.


    "She''s not going anywhere without paying - not with the kind of tab she''s run up!" The bartender yelled at me. "Nobody''s leaving until someone settles her tab! You, her, The King, I don''t give a flying fuck who pays - just as long as I get my <strong>fucking money</strong>!"


    "Calm down," you lummox, I didn''t say. "You''ll get your money. Just leave the bill with one of the Securitrons outside the Lucky 38. They''ll make sure I get it, and I''ll pay for... whatever she... owes..." I suddenly became aware that every single noise in the bar had stopped all at once. I looked around, and realized that even the shitty band had stopped ying. Everyone in the bar had stopped, and was staring up at me,pletely silent. The only one making any noise was Cass, still struggling against my grip.


    "You... you''re..." the now-stammering bartender looked about ready to shit his pants. "Y-you''re the Courier, aren''t you?"


    "What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" I asked; out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of people nearest to the door bolt. Other people around me were starting to back up as well. Even Cass had forgotten to struggle against me for the moment.


    "Hey, forget I said anything man - all her drinks? O-on the house. No charge." He backed up, waving his hands in a disarming gesture. "Just... just don''t shoot up my bar, alright?"


    "<em>What</em>?" I asked incredulously. I sighed and shook my head. "Whatever, I don''t have time to deal with this. Cass, c''mon. We''ve got to talk." As I led her by the arm out of the bar, everyone seemed to get out of my way. Cass, surprisingly enough, had stopped struggling, and instead startedughing.


    "Fuck, man, if I''d known you could''ve gotten me free drinks, I''d have dropped yer name half an'' hour ago!"


    About fifteen minutester, the two of us were on the roof of a nearby building in Freeside, with ED-E buzzing around overhead keeping watch. I''d decided oning up here because I needed a private ce to talk, but I didn''t want to go back to the 38 just yet. As soon as I let go of Cass'' arm, she started fuming and pacing around the roof, but she hadn''t tried to leave yet. So I was taking that as a good sign.


    "Alright, so what th'' fuck was so fuckin'' important?" Cass finally stopped pacing, and scowled at me, her arms folded across her chest. "I''m wastin'' valuable drinkin'' time up here, dick."


    "Veronica wanted me to talk to you," I said from my perch on the edge of the roof. Cass stopped pacing and her expression fell instantly. "Yeah, that got your attention, didn''t it?" She looked around,ughing nervously, and eventually leaned back to sit on one of the broken metal A/C boxes.


    "Uh..." Cass tilted her hat back, and gulped so loud I could hear it all the way from my seat on the other end of the roof. "What... what''d she wanna talk about?"


    "What do <em>you </em>think, genius?" I asked, shaking my head. "She''s not an idiot. She knows something is wrong, she just doesn''t know what. So, since you seem to be avoiding her, she asked me to talk to you, but to be honest? I wanted to talk to you myself." Cass raised an eyebrow. "I''m <em>worried</em> about you Cass. Seriously, your drinking..."


    "Ain''t nothin'' to talk about," Cass snorted, slipping back into her previous angry disposition.


    "Yes, there is. Cass, I''m being serious here - your drinking has gone from delightfully endearing topletely out of hand."


    "<em>Delightfully endearing</em>?" Cass repeated,ughing as she said it. "Where th'' fuck did <em>that</em>e from?"


    "Look, forget how I''m phrasing it - that''s not important!" I said. "I''m really worried about you! I mean, I don''t want toe down like a hard-ass, but this is out of control. I mean, fuck - you came in this morningpletely fucked up, and here you are trying to getpletely fucked up <em>again</em>. That''s less than 12 hours between bouts of binge drinking, and that''s pushing it, even for living in the wastnd - and Vegas is enough civilization that calling anything inside the walls ''wastnd'' is a stretch. Why are you doing this to yourself?"


    "Hey, fuck you man," Cass looked down, causing her hat to fall down and obscure her face from view. "What I do with my free time ain''t none''ve yer business."


    "See, I think it is <em>getting</em> to be my business," I said, getting up off my perch. "And not just because you made me promise to kick your ass the next time your drinking got out of hand." Cass briefly picked her head up, and looked at me nervously through one of the cut-outs in her hat''s brim. "Yeah, you thought I''d forgotten about that conversation, didn''t you?"


    "... Kinda." Cass mumbled. I shook my head.


    "Well, I didn''t. But that''s not the only reason I''ming down on you. See, your drinking isn''t just affecting <em>you</em>. This is what I see you notprehending. You''ve been drinking so much, Veronica thinks you''re avoiding her, and that''s got her worried - rightfully so. If she''s constantly worrying about something she''s got no control over, it might distract her at a critical moment, and with the kind of things we''ve been doingtely, that''s not going to end well. And it''s not just Veronica, either: <strong>I</strong> didn''t trust you to watch <strong>my</strong> back when we went to Vault 22 today, so we went in shorthanded. Not only that, but I had to ask April and Emily to keep watch on you, just to make sure you were fine and you didn''t <em>choke on your own</em><em>vomit, </em>you were so drunk. Which meant that they were distracted from trying to crack into House''sputerwork. Do you see how many people your drinking is affecting? Do you want me to keep going? Because I will."


    "No, y''can..." Cass continued to look away from me, and she started rubbing her arm. "Nah, I get th'' point..." I walked over to Cass and put a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down to get eye-level. It didn''t really work, because her hat kept getting in the way.


    "Cass... seriously. I''m <em>worried</em> about you. Why are you doing this?" She was quiet for a very long time.


    "Because... it''s ''cause I wanna forget about all my fuck-ups..." I took my hand off her shoulder, and decided to just let her speak. "Been thinkin'' ''bout my caravan a lot. Tryin'' to take my mind off other things... but they''re dead cuz I insisted onin'' here."


    "It wasn''t your fault. We already proved that," I said. "It was Alice and Gloria. The Crimson Caravan and the VanGraff''s. You can''t still be ming yourself -"


    "Shea..." Cass cut me off. "<em>I</em> was th'' one who insisted wee to th'' Mojave in th'' first ce. Carmichael, he said we should steer clear. Wait''ll things settle down, an'' things get safer to trade. But no. I was just so dead set on gettin'' us int''a th'' ck again, cuz'' I''d been runnin'' up so much fuckin'' debt... ''We need t''go where th'' money is,'' I said. ''Th'' Mojave''s where th'' money is.'' And what''d I get fer it? Ev''rything I built, burned t''ash. My friends - th'' people I was responsible for, an'' who were countin'' on me - all dead."


    "But Alice and Gloria were targeting caravans back in California, too," I offered up weakly. "If you stayed in California, they probably would''ve been killed just the same, and you''d have never figured out who was responsible."


    "You don''t know that," Cass sighed. "I just... I keep fuckin'' up. An'' th'' whole situation with V ain''t really helpin'' things much. I can''t... I mean... I can''t give her what she wants. Not what she <em>really </em>wants, anyway... I just wanted a bit''ve fun, but she..." Cass shook her head. "Used to be I could just up sticks an'' leave if things got awkward''r I fucked up too badly, but... with how things''ve been going, I don''t think I can leave anymore''n <em>you </em>can. We''re just too connected to everything that''s going on. But I don''t wanna deal with any''ve th'' consequences... I just... I wanna forget..."


    "Cass," I put my hand under her chin and forced her to look at me. "Let me ask you something. You remember the night you and Veronica first got together?" She nodded. The look on her face practically screamed ''where are you going with this?''


    "Uh... yeah, it was th'' night The King threw that crazy party... V an'' I had been drinkin'', and..."


    "You two had been drinking <strong>a lot</strong>. Do you think you two would have even gotten together if you <em>hadn''t</em> been drinking so hard?"


    "Uh..." Cass shifted in her seat nervously, shrugging. "Prob''ly not. What''re y-"


    "And your caravan," I kept going, trying not to lose the momentum. "Why was Cassidy Caravans in so much debt?"


    "B''cause...when we were transportin'' whiskey instead''ve water, I... I kept drinkin'' all th'' stock..." Realization dawned on Cass'' face, and her expression fell.


    "And all those times you''ve talked about where you left so you wouldn''t have to deal with awkward situations," I kept going, trying to drive the point home. "I bet I can guess what made all those situations awkward in the first ce. Themon thread with all of them was..." I paused, allowing Cass to fill in the nk so I didn''t have to say it. She started nodding slowly.


    "... yeah. Yeah, I''d... I''d always been drinkin'' b''fore things got too bad t''deal with..." She hung her head, looking away from me.


    "Cass, if you keep drinking, you''re not going to solve anything. You''re just going to keep making bad decisions, and things are just going to keep snowballing. If you don''t stop, things are never going to get better. You''re just going to spend your whole life trying to drink away the problems that have been <em>caused </em>by all your drinking, until your liver finally gives up the ghost and you kill yourself."


    "Maybe..." Cass shifted ufortably again.


    "C''mon. I know you. You''re stronger than this. If you want things to get better - if you <em>really</em> want them to get better - then you''re going to have to confront your problems head on." Cass snorted, shaking her head.


    "Yer givin'' me too much credit, man. An'' besides... where would I even start?"


    "You <strong>know</strong> where to start, Cass," I said, getting up. "You need to talk to Veronica. And you''ve got to be honest with her. Tell her the truth."


    "The <em>truth</em>?" She looked up at me from beneath her hat, only one eye visible within the cutout in the brim.


    "<strong>About you two</strong>," I said as firmly as I could, knowing exactly what she was implying. But I wasn''t going to back down. Not after I''de so far. "Just tell her what you told me - that you can''t give her what she wants. She''s not an unreasonable person. You know she''ll understand."


    "Will she?" Cass asked. "You absolutely sure ''bout that?" I sighed, shaking my head. I was positively fed up.


    "I don''t know what else to say to you, Cass. Sitting around moping about your problems at the bottom of a whiskey bottle isn''t going to solve anything. If things are ever going to get better - and I know you want them to get better - then you need to confront your problems head-on. And right now, that means being honest with V... and <em>yourself</em>. I''m not saying things are going to get better right away, but things <em>will </em>get better. And at least then you can say you tried. What else can anyone ask of you?"

 Chapter 86: Democracy Inaction

    Chapter 86: Democracy Inaction


    The next day - around ten in the morning - we all left for Vault 11. The atmosphere in the car was... well, I don''t want to say "frosty," but it was definitely on the quiet side. ED-E was back at the Lucky 38, helping April and Emily. Arcade was in the backseat, with his nose buried in a book. Raul was keeping pace right behind us on his motorcycle. And Boone... was just being Boone.


    Cass and Veronica had me really worried, however. I''m pretty sure the two of them had talkedst night, but I''d made myself scarce as soon as I''d brought Cass back to the Lucky 38, so I don''t know for certain. I''m guessing that <em>something</em> happened, though, because they were sitting on opposite ends of the car (Veronica sitting behind me and Cass riding shotgun) and were very pointedly <em>not</em> talking to one another or anyone else.


    I know I''ve experienced longer trips in the car, and definitely quieter trips, but the tension was just so unbearably awkward that I really had to stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when we finally arrived at the entrance to the Vault, and Veronica broke the silence when she stepped out of the car.


    "I still can''t believe you''re wearing that getup," Veronica shook her head as Raul parked his motorcycle. "I thought it was just supposed to be a joke or something!" Raul tipped back his sombrero and started chuckling to himself.


    "You know, I think Veronica is jealous de mi dulce estilo, Boss." He grinned a yellow-toothed, cracked grin at me. Veronica seemed at a loss for words, and just kept shaking her head.


    "I like it," Arcade chimed in from behind me. Everyone turned to look at him - even Raul - in disbelief. "What? It''s <em>distinctive</em>. I mean, with a hat that size, it''s not like we''re going to mistake him for any of the myriad baddies who''re trying to kill us all the time, are we?"


    "Silhouette recognition," Boone nodded, gazing over in my direction. "Useful in nighttime firefights. Especially for those of us without cybeic eyes." A small hint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.


    "You know, we could always go back to Usanagi''s clinic, and rece your eyes so you can see in the dark," I offered up half-sarcastically as I opened up my car''s truck and started rummaging around for supplies. "With all the caps we have, I''m sure we could afford it."


    "I think I''ll pass," Boone said, actually smiling... but only for a second.


    "Alright then, fearless leader," Arcade said (holding back obviousughter) as I leaned over the open trunk. "What''s in store for us with today''s underground death-trap? I mean, we''ve already had drug-addled raiders and giant mutant nts trying to kill us. Will it be super mutants this time? An army of evil clones? Giant, fire-breathing geckos?"


    "No idea," I said honestly as I pulled Arcade''s armor out of the trunk, and shoved it up against his chest. "Boone and I got a bit... distracted before we could recon the Vault too much the other night, so I have no idea what''s waiting for us down there."


    "Distracted nothing," Boone growled, grabbing a few magazine''s worth of ammo and a pair of grenades. "We were ambushed by more Legion assassins." Boone looked over his shoulder and off to the side, at a rock formation close to the Vault entrance. "Yup. Still there." Sure enough, there were the four Legion corpses, still lying there,pletely stripped of anything useful or valuable.


    "... Why are they all sitting up like that?" Veronica asked, pointing at the bodies. "Please tell me you didn''t pose them."


    "Of course he did," I muttered, shaking my head.


    "Sends a message back to the Legion." Boone said simply. "When Vulpes'' spies find them - and they <em>will </em>find them - it''ll let the Legion know this hit squad didn''t juste across a wandering deathw. Let them know the hunters are being <em>hunted</em>."


    "More assassins, huh?" Raul asked, looking off in the direction of the corpses as he busied himself loading one of his shotguns. "How many does this make now, Boss?"


    "I don''t know. I''ve stopped counting." I slung the G36 over my shoulder. "But I swear, if I ever see Vulpes again, I''m going to rip out his spine and <em>beat him to death with it</em>."


    "Really?" Boone seemed confused. "For sending so much free ammo, supplies, and tradablemodities our way?"


    "You know, that''s one thing I haven''t figured out," I said, internally debating with myself on which SMG to take: MP5, or 12.7mm? "These hit squads are supposed to be highly trained assassins, right? But we''ve been cutting through them like a Shiskebab through brahmin meat. Do these guys just suck, or are we <em>really</em> that good?" I put the MP5 back in the trunk. I may have had more ammo for the MP5, but the 12.7 has more punch - and I had no idea what to expect down in the Vault. Best to y it safe with as much overkill as I could carry.


    "Little of column A," Boone said with a shrug. "Little of column B." And with that, Boone started walking toward the entrance to the Vault, with Veronica, the now armed-and-armored Arcade, and Raul following close behind.


    Cass, on the other hand, seemed rooted in ce. She was leaning against my car, staring off after Veronica. It hadn''t escaped my notice that Cass hadn''t said a word to me (or, presumably, anyone else) at all today.


    "Cass?" I was going to approach her, but hesitated, deciding to stay where I was at this end of the car. I grabbed my helmet out of the trunk, and shut the lid. "You alright?"


    "Yep," is all she said. She didn''t look back at me, and kept her arms folded across her chest. I didn''t say anything else until I made sure my helmet was securely strapped onto my head.


    "Sober?" I asked. That got her to look back. It was a death re, but still.


    "What do <strong>you</strong> think?" Well, it was certainly believable now - not a single slurred syble. "I just <strong>love</strong> having to deal with all my shit sober..."


    "Cass, I..." I hesitated, not really knowing what I should say. In the end, it didn''t matter because she cut me off before I could get too far anyway.


    "Drop it." Cass shook her head and pulled back the charging handing on her AA-12 like punctuation. "Let''s just find this whatever-the-fuck-it-is that Veronica needs, and get the fuck out of here."


    The entrance to the Vault was inside a cave, behind a simple, unassuming and inconspicuous wooden door built into the rock. I gave the wooden door a gentle shove... and the nks gave a single creak before giving out and copsing into a pile of splintered wood and sawdust at my feet. I stood there, staring at the pile a bit confused before letting out a sigh.


    "I swear, that worked fine the other night..." Someone stifled augh from behind me as we all filed into the cave, but I couldn''t tell who it was. So I just ignored it and headed deeper inside.


    "Alright, I''ve got a question," Arcade asked. "If you and Boone didn''t <em>actually </em>recon this ce the other night, how are you sure this is even the entrance to the Vault?" I turned to look at him questioningly; his face was lit up green by the glow of his sma rifle.


    "Really?" I did my best to contain my annoyance. I''m not sure it worked. I pulled out a shlight and shined it at the end of the cave; illuminated by the shaft of light was arge gear-shaped metal door, with a faded (but still visible) number "11" in the center. I mounted the shlight on one of the side rails on the G36 after everyone got a good look, and walked to the door. "Give me a little credit, Arcade. This isn''t amateur hour over here."


    Next to the giant steel door was a rusted control panel. It was lit up by a pair of tiny lights at the top, and obviously still had power, so I pulled the main lever on the door control. Just like the entrance to Vault 3, a xon sounded from some unseen speaker and the yellow light above the door began to spin and sh. However, unlike Vault 3, this door seemed... in worse shape. When it slid inward, it did so much slower than the entrance to Vault 3, and it sounded much more forced - the metal grinding against rusty metal screeched and howled and sent out a shower of sparks from every crevice.


    "It doesn''t look like this ce has been open for a long time..." Veronica said as soon as the sparks and smoke settled. "Anyone else getting a bad feeling about this?" I had to admit... there was definitely something that felt... <em>wrong</em> about this ce. I couldn''t exin it. But I decided against saying anything.


    Of course, when I stumbled across the four skeletons lying on the ground a few feet away from the entrance, I didn''t think I needed to.


    "Damnit," I sighed, making sure the shlight shined on the circle of ancient corpses. "Think someone can get some lights on in here?" As if on cue, there was a clunk that echoed in the chamber, and the two cracked yellow lights in the ceiling flickered dimly to life with a buzz. I looked around, and realized Raul was near a junction box, giving me a thumbs up.


    "Interesting..." Arcade''s voice seemed to take on a strange, almost detached tone as he knelt down over one of the skeletons. He leaned in close to one of the skulls, and ran a finger along the sides. Then he leaned over another, looking at the same spot. "It looks like all four died from self-inflicted bullet wounds." He took one of the skulls in his hand and rotated it so I could see; sure enough, there was a ratherrge hole in the side.


    "Any idea how long they''ve been dead?" Cass leaned over Arcade, trying to get a better look. Arcade just shook his head and shrugged.


    "More than a year? That''s about as urate a number I can give, only based on the visual dposition. If I were to take samples of the bone and run them through..."


    "I''m interested," Cass cut him off tersely. "But not <em>that</em> interested, Arcade. Shut up."


    "No need to guess what they used..." Boone picked up a 10 millimeter pistol off the floor... and then looked back and forth from the gun in his hand, to the skeletons, and then back to the gun. "Strange..."


    "What''s strange,padre?" Raul leaned against the nearby railing. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. Haven''t you ever seen the results of a suicide pact before?"


    "There''s four bodies... but <em>five</em> pistols." Boone looked back at the skeletons... and then set the gun back on the ground.


    "What do you suppose happened here?" Veronica set the pommel of Oh, Baby! on the ground, leaning against it like a cane. Before any of us could answer, there was a burst of static from a speaker off to my left. Arcade was standing at a nearby terminal, his face illuminated green by the monitor.


    "Are we really going to do this?" A man''s voice emerged from between the bursts of static. His voice echoed in the room. "It''s open. We could just... <em>leave</em>."


    "I couldn''t," A female voice with a southern drawl to her ent spoke up. "Not after that."


    "We don''t deserve to leave," said a second male voice.


    "A shining example..." A third male voice sighed. "That''s what it called us..."


    "But we were!" The first man spoke up again. "We did what we were supposed to!"


    "Not by a long shot," A fifth voice sounded off, another man.


    "Anybody would have done what we did..." The first man said, almost pleadingly.


    "You ask me, that''s <em>exactly</em> the problem," the woman snapped. "Now let''s get on with this already!"


    "I''ll go first..." I couldn''t tell which of the men was speaking, but I definitely recognized the sound of a pistol being loaded.


    "Wait - wait!" The first man spoke up yet again. "People should know what happened... don''t you think? I mean... they could <em>learn</em> from it!"


    "If there''s anyone out there at all," Thest man spoke up. "I hope they <em>never </em>have to find out what happened here. Ready, Harry?"


    "Yeah." I think this was the second man to speak, but I couldn''t be certain from a single syble word.


    "No, no, NO! Wait!" The first man pleaded. There was a burst of static on the recording, and it almost muffled the sound: four 10mm gunshots in quick session. There was a very long silence... and then there was a heavy sigh. There was a ttering sound - probably the gun being dropped - followed by the sounds of footsteps, and then the sounds of the Vault door closing. There was onest burst of static, and the audio cut out.


    "What..." Veronica seemed mortified. "Why would it... I mean... what <strong>was</strong> that?"


    "Security log," Arcade exined, continuing to lean over the terminal. "The system automatically recorded the event when it detected motion in the entryway. It''s probably recording us right now. But that was thest log before the system went into standby mode..." He tapped on the keyboard and adjusted his sses before they could fall off his nose. "... huh. ording to this, the Vault has been running on backup power for... just over three decades? Well, I guess that''s how long these people have been dead..."


    "Alright, I think we''re getting a little distracted here," I said, stepping over the skeletons and toward the door that led deeper into the Vault. "Grisly as this may be, we''re not here to figure out what happened. I mean, knowing our luck, we''ll probably stumble across the answers <em>anyway</em>, but we''re here to look for that... part... uh..." I turned to Veronica. "What was it called again?"


    "A differential pressure controller."


    "Right, that," I nodded. "Any suggestions on where we should start looking?"


    "Probably the Overseer''s terminal. That''s where we found the inventory list of spare parts in Vault 3."


    "Then that''s where we should start." I pulled back the charging handle on the G36. "Alright everyone - get military. All the other Vaults we''ve been to have been dangerous, and there''s no reason to think this one is going to be any different. Let''s go."


    This ce was seriously starting to creep me out.


    There were a couple reasons for this, not the least of which was theplete absence of anything or anyone. I''d been checking the motion tracker in my helmet, the radar on my Pip Boy, and cycling through the various different vision modes with my cybeic eyes, but as far as I could tell... we were the only living things in the Vault. Normally, people <em>not</em> shooting at me and monsters and mutant animals <em>not</em> trying to eat me would be a good thing. But at the moment, I would''ve weed the distraction with open arms and a loaded assault carbine.


    I honestly can''t remember if I''ve mentioned this before, but I do not like venturing underground. The air always seems to feel wrong when you go deep enough underground, and the walls always end up feeling way too close. I can deal with it, sure, but only if I''m <em>distracted</em>. Usually by something trying to kill me, but not always. And right now, without any obvious, tangible threat (like the robots in House''s securitron Vault, the fiends in 3, or the nts and fungus-zombies in 22) my mind kept reminding me of how many tons of rock were currently above my head, and how even the slightest nudge could cause it all toe crashing down...


    It didn''t help that the lighting was so dim. Yes, there were lights, and yes, most of them were on without us having to find the switches, but they were cracked, and gave off a dim sickly yellow glow that made me wonder if total darkness wasn''t the better option. Not to mention the creaks and rattles that echoed off the empty walls intermingling with the constant drone of some kind of huge machinery working in some far-off, deep corner of the Vault...


    With nothing to shoot at, all these little details were piling up in my psyche and setting off my paranoia something fierce.


    To cap everything off, the posters stered all over the walls were really starting to screw with my head. They were like the kind of campaign posters politicians in the old world would put up to promote themselves: big bold letters, prominent names, red white and blue color schemes... except there was a problem. The content of all the posters waspletely back-asswards: "Don''t vote Glover: his family needs him!", "Haley is a known adulterer &munist sympathizer. Elect Haley for Overseer!", "Rumors about Haley are baseless! Vote Stone for Overseer!", "I Hate Nate!", and so on. It was almost like... but why would...


    "Hey guys?" Veronica''s voice sounded off from one of the nearby rooms behind me, breaking my train of thought. "I think I found something..."


    "Yeah? What''ve you -" I cut <em>myself </em>off as soon as I walked in. Veronica was at one end of the room, hunched over a terminal... but on the other end of the room was a sandbag wall, with a skeleton slumped over it, the bony fingers somehow still clutching the assault rifle in its hands. Behind him (or her, I couldn''t tell from the bones...) was a series of weapons lockers. "What''s with your friend?"


    "I''m not sure," Veronica said, typing away. "But I found something... well... strange. ording to this, the residents of this Vault would select a new Overseer every year, by way of a democratic election."


    "I thought you might''ve found the location of the part you were looking for?" I asked. Veronica shrugged.


    "Not yet. But... I dunno. The bodies at the entrance, the recording, the posters..." Before Veronica could continue, Raul let out augh.


    "Well, that''s a relief. I thought my eyes were going the way of my knees, and were ying tricks on me."


    "No, we''ve all seen them," Veronica sighed. "And it''s... I don''t know about you, but something sinister happened here, and I think we should try and find out what." I sighed, and gave a shrug.


    "Alright, I could use the distraction anyway. What have you found?" As I spoke, Arcade brushed his way past me, and joined Veronica at the terminal.


    "ording to some of the files in here, the residents of the Vault would elect a new Overseer every year in a democratic election, but..." She looked at the screen curiously, scratching her head. "...but it was like they were trying to intentionally vote for the worst candidates possible. Liars, thieves, adulterers, drug addicts..."


    "Just sounds like politicians to me," Boone said dryly.


    "Well yeah," Veronica shrugged. "But when you look at the statements the candidates made when they were nominated, it makes me think that nobody wanted the job anyway."


    "The hell?" Arcade scratched his head. "That... doesn''t make sense. Does it?"


    "No idea," Veronica continued typing away at the keyboard. "But there''s something else. Something called Overseer Order 745. It was thest order issued by thest Overseer, to every terminal in the Vault shortly before the systems went into standby mode. The order ended the elections permanently, recing it with a system where a new Overseer would be chosen at random from the Vault poption by the mainframe''s random number generator."


    "Hang on, what''s that?" Arcade asked, pointing at the screen. "It looks like an audio file."


    "Another one, huh?" Boone asked tly. "Wasn''t one snuff tape enough?" The terminal let out a burst of static, and the sounds of a conversation between two people filled the room.


    "Okay," A male voice spoke up from the speaker. "Let''s pick up where we left off, Kate."


    "<em>Katherine</em>," the woman replied tersely. The man cleared his throat.


    "Yes. Sorry, right. Katherine. I keep forgetting."


    "My husband calls me Kate," She said with annoyance.


    "You were telling us of a discussion you allegedly had with Roy Gottlieb of the Justice Bloc -" the man was cut off before he could continue.


    "Not allegedly," Katherine said. "<strong>Had</strong>. We''ve been through this."


    "It''s still just your word against his, Ms. Stone. But please, the discussion." There was a female sigh.


    "He said my husband''s name hade up in their meetings."


    "The candidate endorsement meetings?" the man asked.


    "Yes. They were going to endorse him. He wouldn''t say why, but I know my husband had a regr poker game with some of them, and he''d been on a winning streaktely."


    "And ording to you, what did Mr. Gottlieb offer?"


    "He said he could sway his voting bloc," Katherine replied. "Prevent the endorsement. But only if I..." She trailed off, and gulped audibly.


    "Only if you what, Katherine?"


    "Only if... I..." She sighed heavily again.


    "Only if you performed sexual favors," the man finished her sentence for her.


    "...<em>Yes</em>." Katherine said the word with disgust.


    "Was this just for Mr. Gottlieb?" There was a long pause.


    "No. All the bloc leadership. Their... <em>friends</em>..."


    "And you agreed?" The man asked.


    "What else could I do?" Her voice had a defeated resignation. "They had a majority..."


    "How long did this go on before the endorsements came out?"


    "I don''t know. A month, maybe."


    "And when they came out," the man continued "and your husband was endorsed despite your supposed agreement, was that when you decided to kill members of the bloc?"


    "Yes," Katherine said tly. "I thought, their majority is pretty slim. If I thinned things out a little, especially in the leadership, someone else might get elected."


    "Assuming you weren''t caught." Then, something unexpected happened: there was softughter on the recording. Katherine''sughter.


    "No, Mr. Miles. I <em>expected</em> to be caught. That was my best chance. Now they''ll <em>have</em> to elect me." I looked around, and realized that everyone in the room listening to the recording looked as surprised as I felt.


    "A confessed murderer?" The man - Miles, apparently - said with shock in his voice. "You think voters would be willing to risk putting you in charge?"


    "They have to pick somebody and live with their reasons," She said tly.


    "Yes, but-"


    "Wait and see." The audio file beeped an end, leaving a strange silence hanging in the room...


    "Veronica," I spoke up, as the gears in my head started turning around and around. "That Overseer order you mentioned. 745. Who ordered it?"


    "Um..." Veronica typed away at the keyboard again. "Overseer Order 745, issued by... Katherine Stone, Vault Overseer."


    Well, at least now I had something else to focus on.


    The deeper and deeper we descended into the Vault, the more obvious the signs of conflict became. It wasn''t just sandbag barricades either: more and more skeletons, bullet holes in the walls, sttered patches of decade-old dried blood, st marks from explosives, the remains of traps and tripwires... even a few copsed tunnels barring our paths.


    It wasn''t until we found a working terminal in the living quarters that we got an exnation for all this carnage. It had a security recording from the Justice Bloc HQ, with two unidentified men talking to one another: plotting a coup. After Katherine Stone had been elected Overseer and taken away the elections, they were terrified of losing their power, so they wanted to start an armed revolution. "Laws don''t oust their governments," one of them had said.


    This ce had been plunged into a civil war. This ce had killed itself - ripped itself apart in violence and bloodshed... and for <em>what</em>? Because of some stupid election? What was so damned important about the Overseer job, anyway? What was so important about a job that <em>nobody wanted</em>?


    As I was trying to work out all of this in my head, we wandered into the Atrium. This room was bigger than anywhere else in the Vault - easily two stories, maybe more. Hell, it even had a balcony. Like the rest of the Vault, it was falling into disrepair, but there were no signs that there had ever been any fighting in here. At one end of the long rectangr room was a wall still covered in campaign posters (the only one in the room), and a speakers podium. The rest of the room was filled with arge, U-shaped table and dozens of chairs all facing the podium.


    I looked around the atrium, and realized that we may have made a bit of an erroring this way. The only way out was the same way we came in. I was about to say something when all the lights in the room shut off with a clunk.


    "Oops..." Boone muttered. I spun around at the sound. He was standing at a terminal mounted on the wall that was obviously active.


    "What did you do?" Veronica asked, worry creeping into her voice.


    "I don''t... uh..." He trailed off, and I realized there was a blue glowing from behind me. I turned around, and was amazed to find dozens of ghostly blue images now in the room. There were people all wearing Vault jumpsuits sitting around the U-shaped table (some of them hovering in the air, sitting on chairs that weren''t there anymore), and one man standing at the podium. They almost looked like the holograms from the Sierra Madre, but... different somehow. I looked up and saw a series of blue lights obviously projecting the images into the room.


    "Is this... what is this?" Arcade asked. "Is this... a <em>recording</em>?" The ghost at the podium - a portly, balding man wearing a sash over his Vault jumpsuit - cleared his throat and adjusted his cor. That''s when I realized the sounds wereing from the ceiling, and not from the images being projected.


    "Good afternoon," the man said, gripping the podium again. "Each year, it is the appointed task of the ombudsman not only to officiate the election, but to chronicle it in hopes that after thest Overseer has finished his term and walked to his death in the sacrificial chamber beneath his office, and the Vault has be still, that one day some excavator from humanity or perhaps some yet-unknown race of super beings might find our records and incorporate them into historical canon." As he spoke of the Overseer, he looked up and behind him - at the circr window in the wall above him.


    "Did he just..." Cass said softly. "Did he say what I think he said?" Arcade shushed her.


    "Quiet, I''m trying to listen!"


    "Buttely..." The balding man at the podium sighed. "It''s urred to me that that''s not really <em>why</em>. I think the real reason we do it is because we want to believe that somewhere in the archives... there''s an <em>answer</em> to all of this. Or, perhaps, there <em>will</em> be one when the historical records arepleted and the whole story is told. We want it to make <strong>sense</strong>. To understand why the Vault''s mainframe will kill us if we do not offer one of our own as a yearly sacrifice. To fullyprehend why we continue to have these elections despite the unfettered corruption that has gued it for what must be <em>decades</em> by now. There was a simpler time when elections meant shaking hands and kissing babies. But now..." He shook his head. "With the rise of the Voting Blocs and this infestation of bribery, drug trafficking, smuggling, and God knows what else... we want to know <em>why</em>."


    As he spoke, I walked up to the projected image standing at the podium, trying to get a better look at the hologram. It was definitely cruder than the holograms at the Sierra Madre; the image was grainy, and wasn''t quite so well focused as the Madre holograms. The image blurred whenever he moved, and the edges of the images weren''t nearly as well defined either. I brushed a hand through it, and the image flickered slightly.


    "Well, I''ve been through the archives," the man continued, adjusting his sash and shaking his head. "and I can tell you that you won''t find the answer there. You''ll find an ount of the first Overseer, who entered the Vault as the only citizen aware of the sacrifices that would have to take ce. But he didn''t have the answers either. If he did, surely he would have foreseen the citizens'' anger when he broke the news. Surely he would''ve guessed that they would want to choose a sacrifice democratically, in the way we citizens are ustomed to washing our hands of terrible deeds. Surely he would''ve guessed that his name would be at the top of the polls, and that the simultaneous vacancy of Overseer and Martyr would forever fuse the two positions here in Vault 11." The man sighed heavily again. "But he didn''t. He no more had the answers than any of us. The records state that after the citizens discovered that the sacrificial chamber''s password was the name of his wife - Betty - and its door was unsealed so he could be offered as the first sacrifice... he walked into that room crying like a child."


    I looked back at my friends; everyone was transfixed, watching the holographic recording of this speech unfold.


    "I can only wonder if there are no answers to be found," the man continued. "Perhaps we are just going along with this because we don''t see any other choice. Nevertheless, I still hold onto hope that we can find one. I urge you all to take the journey I took - to remember that it wasn''t so long ago that we were ruled by our civility and our dignity, and that those were times when we didn''t have to feel quite so... <em>ashamed</em>." The man nodded. "Thank you." The ghostly audience listening to him rippled with apuse as he walked away from the podium... and then the images faded into nothing. There was a clunk in the ceiling, and the lights slowly faded back on.


    "Well, that exins why nobody wanted the job, Boss," Raul was the first to speak.


    "Those were holograms, definitely," Arcade mused, turning to me. "Sheason, were those like -"


    "No," I shook my head, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. "Those weren''t like the Sierra Madre holograms at all. Kind of makes me wonder how many different types of holograms there <em>are</em>. This has been, like, the third different kind of hologram I''ve seen..."


    "That..." Veronica was looking around, gaze unfocused and mouth agape, like she couldn''t quite process what she''d just witnessed. "That was this Vault''s experiment, wasn''t it? Kill one person so the rest of the Vault could live?"


    "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few - or the one..." Arcade shook his head. "That''s..."


    "Fucked up," Cass finished for him.


    "But why..." Veronica kept shaking her head. "Why would they - I mean - that doesn''t make sense..."


    "How long would that go on?" Boone asked softly, still rooted to the floor next to the terminal.


    "Less than 200 years, obviously," Raul offered up dryly. "Otherwise there''d still be people living here." I had to keep myself fromughing, despite the grim realizations that had juste to light. Maybe I wanted tough as a coping mechanism, because... this was seriously some fucked up shit. There were no other words for it. I shook my head.


    "Alright, c''mon people. Let''s focus on what''s important." I pointed up at the circr window. "If I had to guess, <strong>that''s</strong> the Overseer''s office, so that''s where we need to go. We also know the password to get into the terminal up there is Betty. So, let''s go there, find the differential pressure controller, and get the <strong>fuck</strong> out of here, before this ce gets any weirder."


    Less than fifteen minutester, we managed to find the Overseer''s office. It looked like the fight had been pretty heavy on the way here, and when we finally opened the door to the office we found a skeleton sitting in the chair at the circr desk... with a pistol in its bony hand, and a hole in its skull. Theputer terminal behind the desk was sttered with dried blood that had gone ck.


    "Alright, Veronica," I stepped into the room, and walked over to the circr window. "You''re up."


    "Gee, <em>thanks</em>." Veronica grumbled; she balled up some of the cloth on her robes, trying to wipe away the decades-old dried blood partially obscuring the screen. She tapped away for a few minutes... and then suddenly stopped, stepping away from the terminal. "Uh... Sheason? You''re not going to like this."


    "Oh, great. What now?" I walked to the terminal and leaned over to take a look. Veronica pointed at a few lines of code.


    "Well... I found thest working differential pressure controller in the Vault. It''s still installed in the HVAC system... next to the mainframe."


    "So?" I asked, a bit confused. "What''s the problem?"


    "Well, I looked at the map for the Vault..." Veronica tapped a few keys, and the screen changed to a map simr to what was avable on my Pip Boy. "... and the only way to get to the mainframe is by going into the sacrificial chamber."


    A very heavy silence hung in the air.


    "Of course it is..." I muttered, shaking my head. "Well, go on then." Veronica stared at me, like she didn''t understand what I''d said. "Open it up."


    "Wh - you can''t be serious! You''re going to walk in there? Willingly? We don''t even know what''s down there!"


    "No, we don''t," I said. "But I''m not nning on dying today, and I''m not leaving until we get what we came for. Besides," I held up the G36. "I''m pretty sure whatever is down there is counting on whoever enters being unarmed."


    "I''m not letting you go in there alone," Veronica said tly. "I''ming with you."


    "Me too," Boone gave a single curt nod.


    "Same here," Cass leveled her shotgun, giving me a nod. I was silently relieved - I half expected her to stay behind, considering how mad she was with me.


    "Might as well join the party," Arcade added with a smile.


    Another heavy silence hung in the air as we all looked at Raul.


    "Have fun, Boss!" He smiled at me with a wave... and then shook his head. "Nah, I''m just messin'' with ya. I''ming too." Iughed inside my helmet, and gave Veronica a nod. She pressed a single key on the terminal.


    The whole room shook. The curved desk began to rise up slowly, causing the pistol and the forearm bones still holding it to fall off the skeleton and tter to the floor. A panel in the floor slid away with a creak and a groan, and suddenly there was a short staircase that led into a tunnel. With me in front, the six of us descended one at a time.. and then, something unexpected happened. As we started walking down a very long, dimly lit (andpletely untouched) hallway, a voicee over the speakers.


    "Congrattions, martyr!" The voice seemed a little too... <em>enthusiastic</em>. "Your fantastic journey is only just beginning! Please, proceed to the light." As if on cue, the door at the end of the hallway slid down and opened, flooding the end of the hall in bright light, that only seemed to get brighter the closer we got.


    "The light is calming, and puts your mind at ease," the voice said. "Go to the light." By now, I''d gotten to the door, and the light was so bright, I couldn''t see anything else - but I did hear the sound of a door mming shut behind me.


    "Sheason!" I couldn''t tell who shouted. It could''ve been Veronica, but it almost sounded like Cass... I don''t suppose it really mattered.


    "Oh, <strong>fuck</strong>!" I spat through gritted teeth just as soon as my vision returned. I looked around, and realized that, yes indeed, the door leading out had closed. "Why am I getting a nasty sense of dj-vu?" As I spoke to myself, the lights began to dim.


    "Sheason, hold on!" The same muffled voice spoke up - it was definitely Cass. "Don''t do anything! We can... just hold on! We''ll get the door open!"


    "Wee!" The enthusiastic voice said from a speaker behind me. I looked around at the far end of the room, and saw a projector pointing at an empty patch of wall, a red easy chair, and a small table sitting next to it, with a flowerpot plete with fake flowers), an empty bottle of liquor, and an ashtray. "Please, sit in the chair. The show is about to begin."


    "Uh-uh." I stood in ce, refusing to move. "I''m not falling for <em>that</em> trick again." After a short pause, the voice spoke up again.


    "The show requires that you sit in the chair." I looked around the room, trying to figure out exactly where the voice wasing from, but stayed rooted in ce. How long would it take them to break through the door? Assuming they even <em>could</em>...


    "It is absolutely essential that you sit in the chair." As the voice spoke this time, the projector lit up with a hum. I looked back at the door, and then back at the chair...


    "You have no other choice. You must sit in the chair."


    "... Fuck." Slowly, I walked forward. "I just hope if there''s gas like in Elijah''s bunker, the filters on this damn helmet work..." Slowly - cautiously - I sat in the chair. The projector clicked, and the white square projected on the wall flipped up like a slide show. The words "HAPPY TRAILS" plete with quotation marks) were projected on the wall in cartoon-like letters.


    "Greetings, martyr, and wee!" The voice said, as the slide show progressed with more cartoony slides. "If you''re here now, it means you''ve been offered up as a sacrifice so that your Vault can continue to thrive. Currently, you may be feeling sad or angry. Perhaps you never got to have grandkids, or you never got to enjoy the pleasures of a fresh cigar. But march with your chin held high, soldier, and remember that each of us has an important role to y!" I don''t know why, but this voice reminded me a bit of Yes-Man. The forced enthusiasm, maybe... "For some people, their role might be to heal the sick. For others, it might mean they will drive a racecar or fly a rocket ship. And some of us are meant to forfeit our lives for the good of the people. Sure, it might not be as fun as driving a racecar, but it''s every bit as important."


    "I didn''t think driving a racecar <em>was </em>important, even before the bombs..." I muttered. The slides switched again; each slide was focused on the same smiling cartoon man, who I finally recognized as the Vault Boy: the Vault Tec mascot.


    "Let''s take a moment to reflect on the moments that made your life worth living. Think about that time you kissed your steady girl for the first time under the bleachers at the big game! Or when you snuck out after curfew to catch that new flick that your parents wouldn''t let you see because it was too scary. Boy, were they right!"


    "I never met my parents," I said aloud, even though I knew the voice couldn''t hear me. "And thank you <em>so much</em> for bringing that up, I really appreciate that."


    "And who could forget when you met the love of your life? What a looker!" Even the forced enthusiasm couldn''t make that sound convincing. "These are just examples. Do you feel that stirring in your chest as you think of these things? Good. What you are feeling... is <em>peace</em>."


    "No, what I''m feeling is <strong>pissed</strong>," I growled, gripping the G36 tighter...


    "You''ve led a great life. Living it has been its own reward! But it is only the beginning." The slides switched again. The Vault Boy looked like he was meditating under the silhouette of a tree. "Close your eyes now, and imagine what joys await you in the next life - the afterlife. Can you see them? Good."


    Without warning, the projector shut off; there was a clunk, and the room was flooded in darkness. I heard a strange mechanical whire from behind me; I leapt forward out of the chair and turned around just in time to see arge mechanical arm - tipped with arge and dangerous looking needle - attached to the ceiling, and stabbing the air where I had been sitting seconds earlier.


    As soon as it realized I''d moved, it "looked" up, focusing on me with a redser sight, aimed the needle, and made to stab at me again. I grabbed the metal arm just behind the needle, bringing it to a halt inches away from my face, and struggled against it for a few seconds. I brought the G36 to bear, aiming it with one hand. The carbine barked, and a shower of sparks erupted from the joint in the ceiling keeping the arm in ce. It went cold and lifeless, shuddering and falling limply out of my hands.


    A series of loud clunks reverberated from the walls on either side of me... followed by a loud xoning from the same speakers as the voice from either.


    "Son of a bitch..." I growled under my breath as I kicked the chair into the table that held the projector, knocking them all over, and leveling the G36 with both hands. "I''ve got a bad feeling about this..." I cycled through the vision modes on my eyes as quickly as I could, and realized that the walls on either side of me were actually <em>doors</em>. Behind them I could see a mass of heat signatures and electrical signals pulsing and glowing brightly - and the shapes could only mean one thing:


    "Fuck! Robots!" Just my luck - I didn''t have any pulse grenades. But I did have a few sma grenades and at least one microfusion cell grenade... and I did have armor piercing ammunition for the carbine. I took a hand off the carbine, pulled a grenade off my chest, and braced myself...


    The doors started to slide out of the way; I tossed the sma grenade in my hand off to my right, and kicked off the ground, running at full tilt toward the opening door on my left. Part of me was pointing out how incredibly stupid this was - especially since I was now face-to-face with a sentry bot that was leveling a minigun directly at my face.


    I unloaded the G36 as I ran, and just as the sentry bot''s minigun started to spin up, I angled my approach and slid against the smooth metal ground - sliding right between the front two legs of the tank-like robot.


    It felt like time slowed down. I was vaguely aware of the massive explosion on the other end of the room. Just as I started to pass by the sentry bot''s back leg, I grabbed hold of it, pulling myself up while simultaneously kicking off the ground with both feet as hard as I could. The next thing I knew, I was riding on the back of the sentry bot, holding on for dear life while it tried to shake me off like a bucking brahmin.


    <strong>"THREAT ANALYSIS: RED! ENGAGING TARGET!" </strong>The metal voice of the robot boomed and resonated through the chamber. I scanned the back of the robot, and found a small port at the base of the robots head, right where it met the torso.


    "This looks important!" And with that, I jammed the G36''s muzzle into the port and pulled the trigger. There was a loud bark from the carbine, a shower of sparks, and what sounded like half a dozen rifle bullets entering the robot''s chassis and bouncing around inside, ripping the internal electrics to shreds without the means to break through the outer skin.


    <strong>"SYSSSS-TE-E-E-E" </strong>The sentry bot shuddered and spasmed, before finally leaning forward, powering down. Sadly, I didn''t get a chance to celebrate, because at that precise moment, a missile flew through the air from the other side of the room and exploded at the feet of the sentry bot.


    My world turned into nothing but fire and noise for a few seconds as I tumbled head over heels through the air, onlying to a stop because the force of the st knocked me face first into the back wall. I copsed to the ground in a heap, my carbine having been knocked out of my hands along the way. I shook my head, pushing myself up off the ground as fast as I could - part of me wanted to thank the armor for cushioning the blow, but that didn''t seem... whatever, now is not the time to worry about that.


    What I really needed to worry about was the robobrain rolling directly at me. It was a crude looking robot - just a giant metal cylinder mounted on a pair of tank treads, with flexible PVC pipes for arms iling around. What pushed it into creepy territory (and what gave it the name ''robobrain,'' presumably) was the ss dome sitting on top of the cylinder, and a brain wired into it, acting as the robot''s... er, brain.


    "I wish there was some other way we could have worked this out..." The robot''s voice was heavily synthesized, but it was entirely too high - almost like it was a child speaking. Under different circumstances, I might''ve felt sorry for it. Or maybe unnerved at the very least. But it was aiming theser mounted on the end of its w-arm at me, so I couldn''t really do anything except get up and tackle the robot before it could get off a shot.


    I mmed my shoulder into the robot''s chassis with a resounding metal ng, grabbing hold of the w with one hand, and pushing it away. Theser discharged in the air behind me; I pulled out one of mybat knives, nted my foot on top of one of the treads, and plunged the knife directly into the top of the ss braincase. The ss cracked, and the brain inside started to twitch and writhe underneath the de; the bio-med gel started leaking out of the cracks in the ss dome.


    "Even I-I-I kno-o-ow that wa-a-a-a-a-a-" The robot shuddered, and slumped to the side, the knife nted firmly in the brain. I ducked back down, and started using the giant metal cylinder as cover. Good thing too: just as the robobrain stopped making noise, the sound of a rapidly spinning minigun filled the room, and all I could hear was round after round flying through the air, ricocheting against the armored metal chassis.


    I practically welded my back to the broken robobrain, unslung the 12.7mm SMG, and grabbed myst microfusion cell grenade with my free hand. The barrage continued - the fire was so heavy, that most of the shots were going wide: hitting the floor, the ceiling, the back wall... I knocked away the pin on the makeshift grenade with my thumb, and tossed it over the broken robobrain in the vague direction of the minigun firing at me.


    The explosionpletely drowned out the minigun fire, and the shock shook the whole room. I gripped the SMG with both hands, and aimed around the robot. A blue and orange corona was lingering in the air behind the sentry bot - or, at least, what was left of it. The right arm with the minigun waspletely gone, and the rest of the chassis was ckened and half-melted. I didn''t hesistate. I just advanced on the robot, aimed the 12.7mm, and held down the trigger.


    Sparks flew off the chassis with every impact. It was still trying to move, but it was like it couldn''t even <em>lift</em> its arm-mounted missileuncher. The whole robot was jerking around unsteadily on the two undamaged legs. When the SMG ran dry, I tossed it aside and started firing with Roscoe. When Roscoe was emptied, I did the same, pulled out That Gun, took aim at its face, and fired off all five rounds. By now, I was so close I could''ve punched it. But instead, I just tossed That Gun aside and pulled out the Ranger Sequoia, burying the end of the barrel into one of the eye slits. I pulled the trigger, and the back of the sentry bots head exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.


    The robot finally stopped jerking... and then it fell backward, copsing on the ground in a heap. For a few seconds after, nothing happened. I just stood there, breathing heavily, surrounded by piles of broken robots. I was about to go around, picking up all my discarded weapons when the door at the far end of the room exploded. Well... okay, the <em>whole door</em> didn''t explode. The hinges and the heavy deadbolt lock evaporated in fire, and the bulky three-inch steel door shuddered, crashing to the floor with a resounding ng, surrounded by smoke and dust.


    I was far enough away from the explosions that I didn''t even really need to brace, but I still brought my arm up to cover my face instinctively. When the smoke cleared, I saw that everyone had rushed in with weapons drawn - with Cass and her AA-12 right up front.


    "Hey guys!" I waved as calmly as I could muster, and the lot of them just stared at me dumbfounded. "You missed the party. If you''de in earlier, I could''ve saved you some treats."


    Cass shook her head; she somehow managed to look relieved and annoyed all at the same time. I probably would have made more jokes, but it seemed the Vault had other ideas. There was a heavy clunk behind me, right near where the microfusion cell grenade had gone off; quick as a sh, I aimed the Ranger Sequoia at the noise - and it sounded like everyone else had brought their guns to bear as well.


    Apparently, there had been <em>another</em> hidden door, that decided to reveal itself by sliding into the ground. Behind the door was aputer mainframe, still running, still softly humming, and with a terminal on the front glowing green.


    No one said anything. I just walked up to the mainframe carefully - not even thinking of lowering the Ranger Sequoia - until I reached the terminal. There was a function still open: a recording. Curiosity got the better of me.


    "Sheason, what-" Veronica spoke up, but she paused when the speakers turned on.


    "All right, I know you can hear me, so listen up," The voice on the speakers crackled to life. It sounded like one of the men from the first recording we''d heard in here. "There''s five of us left. Five. Out of... I don''t know how many. So... it''s <em>over</em>. We''ve talked, and it''s over. We''re not going to send anybody else to die anymore. So shut off our water or gas us or do whatever it is you''re programmed to do. But we''re done listening to you!"


    There was a pause on the recording. Suddenly, the room echoed with triumphant trumpeting, not entirely unlike ED-E''s music.


    "Congrattions, citizens of Vault 11!" The overly enthusiastic voice from before replied. "You have made the decision not to sacrifice one of your own. You can walk with your head held high knowing that yourmitment to human life is a shining example to us all! And to make that feeling of pride even sweeter, I have some exciting news: despite what you were led to believe, the poption of Vault 11 is <strong>not</strong> going to be exterminated for its disobedience. Instead, the mechanism to open the main Vault door has now been enabled! You cane and go at your leisure - but not so fast! Be sure to check with your Overseer to find out if it''s safe to leave the confines of the Vault. Here at Vault-Tec, your safety is our number one priority!"

 Chapter 87: Neutral Ground

    Chapter 87: Neutral Ground


    "So, that''s everything, huh?" I asked Veronica. She nodded. The two of us were in the kitchen, and all the parts for the Hidden Valley air filter were spread out on the table: the reverse pulse cleaner from Vault 3, the 6 HEPA-20 cartridge filters (still in their hermetically sealed packages) from Vault 22, and finally the differential pressure controller from Vault 11.


    "I still say that differential whats-it looks like a vacuum cleaner," I said, picking it up and turning it over and over in my hands.


    "Yeah, you made that joke already." Veronica seemed annoyed, so I set it back down again.


    "Well, it does! I mean, c''mon, what <em>else</em> is gonna have all these hoses?" Veronica just shook her head and sighed, so I decided to quit fooling around. "Alright, so what''s the n? Are we going to head back right away, now that we''ve got all the parts for the air filtration system?" V started shaking her head before I''d even finished.


    "No. Er... at least, not <em>yet</em>. We still have to find the pulse gun from the Vault 34 armory, and..." V hesitated, staring at the parts on the table. "I don''t want to risk going back to the bunker too many times in quick session. Avoid any unnecessary trips - you never know <em>who</em> might be watching, you know?"


    "Worried about NCR?" I asked, taking a stab in the dark. Veronica shrugged.


    "NCR. Legion. Khans. Fiends. Anybody who might be interested in taking a shot at the Brotherhood... so, <em>everyone</em>, basically." She sighed again.


    "Well, look at it this way: when you convince McNamara to be more open to outsiders, I''lle in with the big right hook, offer up an alliance between the Brotherhood and New Vegas, and BOOM!" I sped my hands together. "You won''t have to worry about being so secretive anymore!"


    "Maybe..." Veronica kept staring at the parts on the table. I had a feeling that I knew what was upsetting her so much, and it had nothing to do with the Brotherhood...


    "You... know what... I''m... gonna head out," I said, rather awkwardly, already moving toward the door. "Since we''re going to Vault 34 tomorrow, I should probably grab some more supplies for us. Ammo, grenades, Rad-X, Rad-Away, some stimpacks, Med-X... that kind of thing." I wasn''t really - at least, not right away - but it sounded believable. Veronica didn''t answer, so I kept walking for the door. "Alright. I''ll see youter then."


    "Sheason," Veronica finally spoke up just as I was about to cross the threshold. I grimaced internally, grabbed hold of the doorframe, and turned back with my best neutral expression I could muster.


    "Yeah? What''s up?"


    "Last night..." Veronica was still staring at the parts, not looking up at me as she spoke. "Last night when you spoke with Cass. What did..." She sighed heavily. "What did you say to her?"


    I was quiet for a very long time. I didn''t quite know what I should say... I just gripped the doorframe tightly, trying my best to keep my blood from freezing over.


    "I just gave her the same advice I would''ve given anyone," I said eventually, looking back at Veronica over my shoulder. "I told her to be honest." Which wasn''t <em>technically</em> inurate. Before this could get any more awkward, I decided to leave... but I heard Veronica''s voice echo from within the kitchen:


    "Honest..."


    Ding.


    The elevator opened up, depositing me gracefully into the Lucky 38''s casino. As soon as I started walking to the exit, the doors opened and Cass walked in.


    "Hey Cass," I waved. "What''ve you been up to?" She shrugged.


    "Oh, you know. Working." She reached behind her, and tossed me stic bag full of caps. I caught it in midair. "There''s your cut."


    "My cut?" I asked, tipping my cowboy hat back and raising an eyebrow in confusion. "My cut for what?"


    "The salvage," Cass said simply. "While you and Veronica were dislodging that diffa-ma-thinger, the rest of us sifted through the wreckage of all the robots. Mick and Ralph paid pretty well for most of what we scrapped, and since you killed them, there''s your cut."


    "Wow, I... uh..." I started chuckling softly. "I was not expecting this. You didn''t have to do that, you know."


    "I could always take it back, if that''ll make you feel better," Cass smirked, moving to grab the bag out of my hands.


    "No, no, that''s... Heh, no, I''m fine with free money," I opened up the duster and put the bag of caps away, where they''d be out of the way. As soon as I did so, Cass looked me up and down questioningly.


    "I''m guessing since you''re packing so much firepower, you''re going on another one of your ''walks'' then?" Cass asked, pointing at the weapons I had strapped to me, hidden inside the duster. I honestly wasn''t carrying all that much: just Roscoe, That Gun, the Ranger Sequoia, a sawed off shotgun, abat knife, the butterfly knife, and a pair of brass knuckles. You know - the bare essentials.


    "I guess you could say that," I shrugged. "I got a message from Swank the other day. He wants to talk to me. Something about some ''business'' I might be interested in."


    "Swank?" Cass looked away, obviously racking her brain trying to remember why that name sounded familiar - and then her eyes went wide, obviously remembering. "Wait, <em>Swank</em>? The guy who''s nose you broke when we stormed The Tops? The guy who was Benny''s number two guy with the Chairmen?" I nodded, and Cass looked at me like I was crazy. "Are you sure you''re carrying enough heat?" I justughed.


    "Thanks for the concern. But I''m sure I can handle him, even if it is a trap." I was about to leave, but I paused. "Oh, uh, by the way... thanks." Cass seemed confused.


    "Thanks?" She asked. "For what?"


    "Earlier, in the Vault," I exined. "When I was going to go into the sacrificial chamber. I honestly... I kind of thought you were going to stay behind." Cass'' confusion was still very much present, so I rified. "You know. Because of... what happened yesterday. And... you know. How mad you are at me. So. Thanks." Cass continued looking at me disbelievingly, until finally she sighed and shook her head.


    "Shea, listen. I''m pissed off at you. <strong>Still</strong> pissed. But I''m angry, because..." She sighed again, grimacing. "Because I know you made too much <em>sense</em>, you <strong>dick</strong>. Even I have to admit that... that..." Cass gritted her teeth and let out a frustrated growl. "Yes, my drinking has be a problem. You''re right, I was wrong, and that''s <strong>fucking annoying</strong>. And it doesn''t help that theck of booze is giving me a headache the size of goddamn <em>Montana</em>." Cass shook her head and set a hand on my shoulder. "But even though I''m pissed off, I''m not heartless or petty enough to leave you to die because I''m being stupid and holding a grudge."


    "So..." I nodded, extending my hand for her to shake. "Still friends?" Cass looked down, grabbed my hand, and held it up with hers like she wanted to have an arm wrestling match in midair.


    "Yeah... yeah, we''re still friends. I''m <strong>pissed</strong>, but we''re still friends." I set my free hand on top of our handshake, and smiled.


    "Guess this caravan really isn''t done travelling yet, huh?" Cass smirked - and then pped me.


    "Dick. That''s <strong>my</strong> line."


    The two of us startedughing.


    The Phoenix casino reminded me a bit of The Tops, in a way. The building itself wasrge, square, squat, and put me in mind of a giant brick with windows. The entrance, on the other hand, was covered in shing neon lights, and set into the southwestern corner of the brick. I couldn''t quite tell what the sign was actually supposed to <em>be</em>; based on the name and the way the red-and-orange neon lights were shing, it was probably supposed to look like stylized fire, but it honestly looked more like a bulbous flower to me. The name of the hotel curved around the outside edge of the fire-flower in bright yellow neon lights, anding up out of the top was an illuminated picture of a red bird spreading its wings and flying up into the sky.


    So, pretty standard fare for a Vegas casino then. What <em>wasn''t</em> normal were the six Chairmen I saw standing guard outside the front doors. That was, admittedly, a bit strange; normally, the guards would be <em>inside</em> the doors. And things got even more suspicious when all six of them started moving in my direction.


    "Hello boys," I said, subtly shifting my stance so I wouldn''t be caught t-footed. "What can I do for you?" None of them said anything. They all just stopped about six feet away, surrounding me in a half-circle. Very slowly and carefully, I pulled out the scrap of paper I''d received the other day and held it up for all of them to see. "You guys <em>do</em> know I was invited, right?"


    "Hey-hey, there''s the high-roller!" A familiar voice spoke up behind the silent Chairmen. A man in a nice dark-grey suit and slicked back brown hair seemingly appeared out of thin air, cing a hand on the Chairman right in front of me. "Alright boys, take five. The grownups need to talk." Swank - and it was unmistakably Swank - snapped his fingers and motioned with his thumb over his shoulder. The six chairmen dispersed.


    "Swank," I said simply, keeping my stance ready and my right hand near Roscoe. "You''re looking well." He turned to me with a smile - keeping his distance, but still smiling.


    "And you look ready to fight off a nest full of deathws," he said with a smirk. I shrugged. "Are you sure you need all those guns?"


    "Well, I had no guarantee this wasn''t a trap, and I wanted to be prepared. As far as I know, you might be wanting a bit of revenge for killing your boss - or breaking your face." My eyes settled on his still very crooked nose, a remnant of our first meeting when I''d smashed his face against the counter at The Tops.


    "Honestly, I''m not all that broken up about my nose - er, no pun intended." Swank shrugged. "It certainly hasn''t hurt my luck with the broads any, that''s for sure. And, as far as Benny goes... well..." Swank paused. "I''ll tell you in a bit. C''mon inside, so we can get this m-bake started, dig? We should probably talk up in my office on the 14th floor, but if you want something to eat, I can have the Center Cut send up a brahmin porterhouse, while we talk business over a bottle of scotch..." Swank started walking back to his casino, but I stayed rooted in ce, folding my arms across my chest.


    "Oh yeah, let''s go into the casino <strong>you</strong> own, surrounded by <strong>your</strong> men on <strong>your</strong> payroll, carrying <strong>your</strong> guns, while I presumably have to leave all <strong>my</strong> weapons at the door, just like every other casino here on The Strip." Swank paused, looking back at me questioningly. "I don''t think so. How stupid do you think I am?"


    "If I thought you were stupid, I wouldn''t have contacted you at all." Swank said tly. I just shook my head.


    "Look, I''m sorry to tell you this... but I don''t believe you when you say you''re not holding a grudge. I don''t know how long you knew Benny, but I''m guessing it was a pretty long time, yes? It doesn''t seem like something you''d forgive that easily. Hell, <em>I </em>wouldn''t. So, until you prove to me that this isn''t just some borate ruse to ambush me, I''m not setting one <em>foot</em> in your casino."


    "Yeah, but you''re <em>The Courier</em>," Swank put his hands in his pockets, nonchnt as you please. "I''ve heard about all those assassins from Caesar''s Legion trying to put you down. They''ve all failed, otherwise we wouldn''t be talking. You''d turn my men into swiss cheese if I was stupid enough to try and kill you - which, let''s be honest with ourselves here, I''m not."


    "You''re probably right," I said, refusing to move. "But just because I <em>could</em> get out without a scratch, doesn''t mean I <em>want</em> to kill everyone between me and the door. I''ve already done that once before. You should know, you were <strong>there</strong>. To be honest, I''d rather not raise that number any more." Swank looked me over once, shook his head, smiled, and started chuckling to himself.


    "Alright, alright, you''ve made your point. Tell you what: just for you, we can talk over drinks in <em>neutral</em> territory." Swank strolled right on past me, continuing to speak. "A ce I don''t own, and where we''d <em>both</em> have to disarm before walking in."


    "Neutral territory?" I asked, finally moving from the spot to follow him. "What did you have in mind?" Before he responded, he pulled a packet of smokes out of his jacket, and grabbed one with his mouth.


    "You ever been to Bazooko''s Circus?"


    It was a solid five minutes before I stoppedughing.


    "Well, well, look who''s back!" The ghoul tending bar at the CarousHELL of Dreams said with a yellow-toothed grin as soon as Swank and I walked in. "I was starting to wonder if you''d forgotten about me."


    "Hey Joey," I said leaning against the bar. "Yeah, sorry. I keep meaning toe back, but I''ve been..." Images shed of everything I''d done since Cass and I blew up the Silver Rush two weeks ago. "...a little busy." He nodded with a smile - and then his eyes went wide.


    "Swank? Holy shit, man! I haven''t seen you in... what, a couple months?"


    "Easily," Swank said with a chuckle. "How''s business?"


    "Business is business, you know how it goes," Joey shrugged, leaning against the counter. "So, what brings you two gents to my humble revolving bar? What can I get you?" Swank reached into his coat and set a stack of poker chips with The Phoenix logo on the counter. It was easily several hundred caps worth, if the numbers on top of the chips were any indication.


    "A bottle of scotch, a private booth where my friend and I can talk..." Swank paused, as if thinking, then added: "...and a guarantee Seamus won''t bring us the drinks. I mean, I''m assuming that disgruntled little midget still works here, and someone hasn''t <em>eaten</em> him yet..."


    "Sure thing, Swank," Joey chuckled to himself, counting out the chips. "Just because it''s you. There''s a private booth on the other side of the carousel, in the back behind the three-clown slot machines." Swank nodded, and the two of us started walking.


    "Alright," I finally said when the pair of us found the booth and we settled in across from one another. "So, before we start talking business, I''ve gotta ask: what makes this ce neutral ground? Was it just because both of us had to disarm on the way in?" Swank eased into his seat and chuckled.


    "No, not quite. Bazooko''s Circus is just one of the casinos that isn''t owned by any of the Three Families. There aren''t that many of them on The Strip, but they do exist. This ce, Mount Olympus, Barcelona, the Triple 7... hell, even Vault 21, but that ce barely counts as a casino." Swank took onest draw from his cigarette, snuffing it in the ashtray before reaching into his coat for more. "I''ll be honest though. Even being ''independently owned,'' I''d say you still have the advantage here."


    "Advantage?" As soon as I asked, a buxom blonde girl in make-up and a tu-tu shimmied up to the table and poured our drinks. "Why, because I know Joey? You seem to have more pull with him than I do." Swank snapped his lighter shut.


    "No, that''s not it. Just a few things I''ve noticed this past week. Radio New Vegas went off the air and turned into nothing but static on Friday. There was some kind of temporary glitch with the Securitrons around the same time the broadcast stopped. There''s the fact that I haven''t heard from House in over a week. And there''ve been some pretty interesting rumors floating around Freeside and The Strip, too..."


    "What are you getting at?" I knew exactly what he was getting at.


    "I put two and two together and got four, what do you think?" Swank chuckled. "If I had to guess, you either killed House or unplugged him from whatever was keeping him alivest Friday. And since you''re still living in the 38, as far as I''m concerned... that means you''re the new Overboss."


    "This is the business you wanted to talk about, isn''t it?" I asked. Swank nodded. "So... what? You gonna try and kill me and take over?" Swank shook his head and snorted a puff of smoke out his nostrils.


    "Man, but are you paranoid. It''s like I keep telling you - I''m not that <strong>stupid</strong>. I''m not like Benny. In fact..." Swank grabbed the ss of scotch in front of him, savoring the smell before taking a sip. "I wouldn''t say this in front of any of the boys. But you killing Benny? That was probably the best thing that could''ve happened to the Chairmen." I raised an eyebrow.


    "What? Wait... <em>what</em>? I''m sorry, but I just don''t... what do you <em>mean</em>?"


    "Let me give you an example. Back in the old days, before we were the Chairmen - before we''d ever heard of anyone called House, or set foot on the Strip - we were the Boot Riders." Swank took another draw from his cigarette as he spoke. "And there was a man among us called the Singer."


    "The Singer?" I asked. "That was his name? Just... the Singer?" Swank nodded.


    "He gave up his real name when he became the Singer: the man who kept our history. Immortalizing the deeds of the Boot Riders in song. Whenever we''d set up camp, he''d gather us around the fire at sunset, and sing us the songs of days gone by. And when House convinced us to trade the gecko-skins for suits and ties, the Singer kept singin'', just different songs. He joined up with Tommy, reopened the Aces Theater in The Tops, and started singing old world lounge songs... for a while."


    "No offense, but what does this have to do with Benny?" I asked.


    "Keep your pants on, I''m getting to it. About a few months before you turned up, the Singer started going back to the old songs. He was trying to convince the Chairmen that we should leave the city. Head back out into the wastnd, and be the Boot Riders again. A lot of the boys started murmuring their support for the idea, too."


    "Benny didn''t take kindly to that notion, did he?" I asked. Swank shook his head.


    "No. While Benny was away on one of his ''constitutionals,'' he arranged an... <em>ident</em>. One morning we found the Singer, dead in his room from an overdose. He never knew there was psycho in that vial..." Swank got very quiet, and refused to look me in the eye.


    "Yeah... that sounds like Benny," I muttered, ncing at the ss of scotch, but making a point to not drink any. Swank sighed, and looked back up at me.


    "Benny wasn''t going to go back to the old ways, and what happened to the Singer proved he was willing to kill anyone who suggested it. And that wasn''t all. Give you another example: when the Securitrons came with the offer, our chief at the time, Bingo, wanted us to tell the robots to fuck off, so we could stay nomadic. But Benny, he was too ambitious, and even then he knew what Vegas represented. So he challenged the chief to a knife fight. He slit Bingo''s throat, and from then on, he was the boss. He loved the climb, he loved the action, and he loved the game, but... when it came to certain things - like <em>running the casino </em>- he waszy as sin."


    "He wanted the perks, but none of the responsibilities that came with being in charge," I said, recalling something Benny had told me in one of my dreams.


    "Exactly," Swank nodded approvingly. "I knew you''d figure it out. Thing is, with Benny out of the way, I''ve been free to run The Charimen the way I want. We''ve actually been in the ck for the first time in two years, even with The Tops empty. But I think that might be because I managed to get most of the staff out and into our other properties while you were killing Benny and his guards."


    "Well, that''s nice and all," and a bit of a weight off my conscience, to be honest. "But I thought you wanted to talk business?"


    "If you''re the one running the Strip now, you''re gonna need help. I mean... no offense, but you''re not House."


    "I have help," from quite a few people, and a robot designed specifically for the job. "But thanks for the offer."


    "I''m being serious here. The bosses of the other two families might ept your authority if you''re able to control the Securitrons... but even so, they might not. And there''s a lot about running the 13 casinos left on The Strip that I''m pretty sure you don''t know yet. I can help you with that. I can be your right hand man."


    "I already have a right hand man." Well, robot. "And besides - why would you even be interested in helping me? I mean, I can understand the Benny thing, but..."


    "Because helping you is in my best interests," Swank took another drink of scotch. "Pretty soon, Caesar is going to trying over the river. And when that goes down, one of two things is going to happen. Either the NCR is going to win, and then focus their attention squarely on The Strip, or Caesar is going to win, and turn The Strip into histest conquest. No matter what happens, <strong>both</strong> of those oues are going to keep me from living out my one and only fantasy: dying of old age in my own bed with a stomach full of food, and a pair of gorgeous dames on either side of me."


    "So, if that''s your goal, why settle for being a right-hand man?" Isn''t that like settling for second ce, I didn''t say.


    "I''m not settling for anything. I''m the head of the Chairmen, and that''s enough for me. Hell, it was really enough just being Benny''s number two. I like what I do, and... I''m good at it. ying the game the way Benny liked to y it... it wouldn''t end. There''s always some new hill to climb, some new challenge to your authority, and even if you reach one goal, there''s always something more appealing, just waiting for you on the edge of the horizon. And you know what? I find that whole idea exhausting."


    "Alright," I said eventually, nodding. "I believe you." Not entirely, but enough. As soon as I got back to the 38, I was going to make sure Yes Man kept an eye on him. "So, 13 casinos, huh?" Swank nodded. "You know, I never got around to counting."


    "Yeah... It''d be 14 if I was counting The Tops, but... I''m pretty sure that''ll be closed for the foreseeable future."


    "Alright... so, lets get started," I leaned back in the booth. "Who owns what?"


    "Well, The Chairmen right now own The Phoenix, Monaco, and..." Swank winced. "... Bob''s Gambling Hall Saloon."


    "Seriously?" I asked, trying to hold backughter. Swank shrugged, and took ast draw of his smoke, snuffing it out in the ashtray.


    "Hey, I didn''t name it. That was just the sign we found when we opened the ce three years ago."


    "Alright... so what about the others?"


    "The only joints the Omertas run are Gomorrah and The Riv. The Slither Kin were never really overburdened with numbers like the Boot Riders. Hasn''t really changed much since they became wiseguys."


    "You know, call it a hunch... but I think the Omerta''s might be a bit more epting of my authority than you might think..." I thought back to a week ago, when I went into Gomorrah on House''s orders, and helped Cachino take over. Of course, that''s when I remembered something House had said about them: <em>"Everyone else who isn''t them is just... prey." </em>Swank narrowed his eyes, smirked, and took another drink of scotch.


    "So, the rumors I heard were true then?"


    "Well, depends on the rumors. What are you talking about?"


    "I knew Cachino had taken overst week, but there have been a few people saying he had help taking out Nero and Big Sal. It makes sense that it was you, now I''m thinking about it. Since that''s the case, there''s something else I want to say about the Omertas."


    "Yes?" I asked. Swank cleared his throat.


    "If you want my advice, keep a close eye on them - especially the ''entertainment,'' know what I''m sayin''?" I raised an eyebrow. "Well, let me put it to you like this: hardly any of the girls working for the Omertas are there because they''re nymphos. Dig? Might be worth your while one of these days to take a second look." I nodded.


    "I''ll see what I can do," I counted off the casino''s he''d mentioned in my head. "So, what about the rest?"


    "Well, the only other big yer on The Strip is thest of the Three Families: The White Glove Society. They run things out of the Ultra-Luxe, and own the Urbane and the Zephyr. Those three are probably the most expensive joints on the whole Strip."


    "Yeah, the White Gloves are on my list of..." ces Yes Man suggested I look into. "They''re on my list."


    "Probably a good idea," Swank nodded. "The White Glove society are... well, they''re <em>creepy</em>." Swank grimaced again.


    "Creepy?" I asked. "How so?"


    "Except for Marjorie and Mortimer, the two cats in charge of the Ultra-Luxe, I''ve never seen <em>any</em> White Glove member without a mask. There''s just... there''s nothing <em>there</em>. I mean, don''t get me wrong - the three resorts they own are tip-top, ring-a-ding establishments. But anybody who wears masks all the time like that, well... they''re bound to be hiding something. And with Caesar and the NCR both so close, somebody else''s secrets might be thest thing you would want to deal with."

 Chapter 88: All Fired Up

    Chapter 88: All Fired Up


    Tik-ik. Tik.


    "Oh. So, it''s gonna be one of <em>those</em> days, is it?"


    We hadn''t even gotten in sight of Vault 34''s entrance, and already the Geiger counter was clicking away. I took off my helmet and looked behind me; everyone was kitted out and looked ready to fight. Boone was wearing the helmet to go along with his Desert Ranger armor, but that was no surprise. What <em>was </em>surprising was that even <em>Cass</em> was wearing the helmet that went with her armor. Both Arcade and Veronica were wearing air filters and goggles.


    As I reached into my duster for some Rad-X, Raul came down from the ridge. He was dressed in the Vaquero outfit - since he didn''t need anything else to protect him from the rads - but had left his sombrero back on the motorcycle. Apparently, it had been a bit much, trying to maneuver the huge hat in the narrow hallways of Vault 11, and he didn''t want to bother with it in any more tight corridors.


    "Bueno, malo tiempo de noticias. Good news, bad news, Boss." I popped the pills in my mouth, and tossed the bottle behind me to Boone. I sighed, and put my helmet back on.


    "Alright, lets hear it," I said, as soon as I locked the helmet in ce. "Good news first."


    "Well, I think I''ve found the entrance." Raul said proudly. Behind me, I could hear Cass mutter something like "Damnit, I just gotfortable in this fucking helmet..." It was obviously her turn to take the Rad-X.


    "And the bad news?" I heard Veronica ask from behind me.


    "Well..." Raul grimaced, and the unpleasant look was only exaggerated by hisck of skin. "We may have a little trouble getting there..." He motioned for us follow as he headed back up to the top of the ridge.


    "Damn," Cass let out a whistle. "That''s a lot of ghouls..."


    She wasn''t kidding. It was like a convention down there, they were so thick. It almost reminded me of the mass of Ghost People I saw after setting off the fireworks in the Sierra Madre. Most of them were wearing scraps of clothes, and even from this distance I could make out the blue and gold of torn Vault jumpsuits hanging loosely off their emaciated and skinless frames.


    "So, how''re we gonna handle this, Boss?" Raul asked, already loading one of his shotguns. He obviously had suspicions as to how I was going to handle it.


    "We could always try sneaking past them?" Arcade offered up. That might work: I thought back to the Sierra Madre, about how Christine and I had gotten past some Ghost People when I''d thrown a grenade in the other direction as a distraction.


    I nced to my right, at Veronica and Cass. Even with both of their faces obscured by respirators andbat helmets, I could tell... both of them were itching to fight. Cass especially: she was holding her AA-12 like she wanted to club somebody with it, rather than shoot them. And who could me them? All that pent up stress... Hell, I know <em>I </em>was feeling a mite tense after thest few days.


    "You know what? <strong>Fuck it</strong>," I pulled back the charging handle on the G36, and took aim at the mass of ferals below us. "Sneaking is gonna be tooplicated. Let''s just start here, and kill every motherfucker between us and the door."


    "Hell yeah!" Cass said, charging her AA-12. "Now you''re speakin'' mynguage!"


    The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. After all the madness of thest few days with giant mutant nts, zombie fungus ambushes, a Vault with a history that made me want to vomit, and the mountains of drama and headache that came from dealing with Cass and Veronica, it was nice to finally let off some steam.


    Of course, "letting off steam" in this case involved a lot of gunfire, blood, explosions, and a pile of dead ghouls. I wonder what that says about me?


    "We all good?" I asked as soon as thest feral went down. Wait, no - what was that military phrase that Boone said I should say in this kind of situation? I tried to think... "Sound off, people!"


    "Clear," Boone practically whispered, speaking through the radio in my helmet; he was still up at his perch on the top of the ridge.


    "No contacts," Arcade lowered his sma rifle.


    "We''re good," Cass chimed in with a thumbs up.


    "... uhhn, yeah. Good to go over here," Veronica eventually grunted, after pulling Oh, Baby! out of the ground. Apparently, she''d hit thest feral so hard, the super-sledge had buried itself several inches into the rock beneath her feet.


    I looked around, trying to find Raul. He was the only one left, and the only sound filling the ufortable silence was the steady tik-tik-ik-tik of my Pip Boy''s Geiger Counter.


    "Well Boss - ugh - you were right," Raul eventually spoke up, shoving a few dead feral corpses off him. "These ghouls don''t seem to like me very much." I rushed over to try and help him up, and it took me a few seconds to register that the entire left side of his face had been shed to hell. It almost looked like he''d head-butted a belt sander.


    "Oh, shit! That - are you okay, man?" I finally spluttered out, helping Raul back on his feet. "Do you need any stimpacks, or... uh..." I trailed off; Raul just waved and shook his head.


    "No te preocupes, Boss," Raul flexed his jaw, and rolled his eyes around in his head a couple of times. "Ghouls are healed by radiation, remember? I should be alright in a few minutes..." Sure enough, it looked like a few of a the shallower gashes on his face were starting to mend... at least, as far as wounds on someone without <em>skin</em> can mend, at any rate.


    Raul dusted thest of the feral bits off his outfit, picked his shotgun and one of his revolvers up off the ground, and walked away, stepping over a pair of dead ferals in his path.


    "Well?" He asked, turning to me with a cracked smirk. "Are we going down there, or what?"


    This Vault was an absolute pisshole.


    Since stepping through the broken, wide-open Vault door, I hadn''t seen a single piece of metal down here that wasn''t covered in rust or corroded and all full of holes. Half the time we tried going down corridors, they were blocked off by debris, or were copsed entirely. Wires and metal were hanging out of the broken ceiling panels, the floors were covered in trash, half-eaten body parts, or radioactive goo that made my Geiger counter spike, and every pane of ss was shattered. Hell, only about half the lights were even <em>working</em>.


    And you know what? <em>None of that mattered.</em> I was having a <em>st</em>. The steady stream of feral ghoulsing at us as we pushed deeper and deeper into the Vault provided a constant hit of adrenaline to my system that wouldn''t go away. Not even the sound of the screeching ghouls - echoing off every surface and melting together into a deep, dull roar - could ruin my mood. Fighting them was simple, it was straightforward, it was uplicated, and <em>it was</em><em>amazing.</em>


    "How much further?" Arcade asked as we turned a corner; I heard a burst of sma fire from behind me. "I''m running low on power cells..."


    "You knew we were gonna be fighting today,paero," Raul fired one of his revolvers down a hallway to the right. "You should''ve brought more."


    "I''m with Arcade on this one," Cass asked, seconds before everything was drowned out by the boom from her AA-12. "How much further till we can turn around and get out''ve here?"


    "I dunno," Veronica shrugged. "I keep seeing signs pointing to the armory, but they keep pointing at copsed tunnels."


    "Aw, fuck!" Cass shouted. "We''re gonna be down here for HOURS!"


    "How much Rad-X do we have?" Arcade asked, firing his sma rifle down a nearby corridor. "If we''re down here too much longer, we''re definitely going to need more."


    "Speak for yourself," Raul said with a grim chuckle. "I''m sure I''ll be fine long after all of you sumb to radiation sickness."


    "You know, I kinda feel bad for you guys," I opened one of the nearby sliding metal doors, and was immediately face-to-face with a pair of ghouls, wearing the tattered remnants of Vault security armor. The one in front started to screech, so I kicked it square in the chest and sent it toppling backward - directly into the one behind. I emptied the G36 into the two ferals, and they copsed in a bloody heap on top of each other. "You don''t know a good time when you''re having it!"


    There was a noticeable pause from behind me. Cass was the one to break the silence.


    "Dude. We''re in an underground maze, surrounded by radiation, and feral ghouls that want to rip out our insides and have them for <em>lunch</em>. I think you''re having way too much fun."


    "Yeah, maybe," I said, turning to face her. I held up a finger. "But you''re forgetting one simple fact about this little expedition of ours:" Cass didn''t say anything; she just cocked her head to the side. "They''re not shooting <em>back</em>." Cass paused, and even though I couldn''t see her face behind the helmet, I could practically hear the gears in her head turning.


    "Alright, yeah, I''ll give you that one."


    "It <em>is</em> a refreshing change of pace, not being shot at," Arcade chimed in. "But, all things considered, I''d rather be reading a book in an easy chair than being in a situation where ''people shooting at me'' is one of the options."


    "We should keep moving," Boone growled from within the Desert Ranger helmet. "We''ll run the risk of the Rad-X wearing off if we don''t."


    I gave Boone a nod, stepped over the two dead ferals blocking my path and into arge two-story room. There was a giant hole melted out of the back half of the floor, a copsed and inessible catwalk, and there was debris blocking off one of the exits. Despite all that, I was reminded of the room in Vault 11 with the holographic recording of the man giving the speech, or the room in Vault 3 where we''d discovered the prisoners the Fiends had captured.


    With any luck, this was close to where we needed to be. However... In Vault 3 and Vault 11, the Overseer''s office had been near the room that looked like this, but we''d seen this same kind of room overrun by nts in Vault 22, but hadn''t been able to find the office in the ce it <em>should </em>have been. The room itself was familiar, sure, but the path getting to it was not. Theyouts for all the Vaults were drastically different from one another, and I still couldn''t figure out <em>why</em>. Why would Vault Tec give each Vault a uniqueyout? Was it just another part of whatever fucked up experiments they were running?


    "Fuck," Cass spoke up. "Is this another dead end? Please tell me this isn''t another fucking dead end..."


    "I have some rope," Veronica said. "If we find something to tie it to, we could always go through the hole, find out where it leads." As she spoke, Raul walked to the hole and looked down.


    "You don''t happen to have res as well, do you chica?" Raul looked up as he spoke to Veronica. "Because I can''t see the bottom..." He paused, then looked back down the hole. "... or maybe that''s just my eyes acting up again."


    "You know, youin about your eyes more than your knees," Cass chuckled as she walked up to Raul, leaning over to look into the hole.


    "Do I?" Raul started stroking his scabby chin with a smirk on his face. "That''s strange, my knees always give me the most trouble."


    While everyone filed past me into the atrium, I couldn''t help but look around and stay rooted in ce. Something was wrong. I don''t know how, or why I suddenly felt that, but I knew <em>something</em> wasn''t right, because the bottom of my stomach seemed to fall out - just like it always does when things are about to go tits up.


    "Hey Sheason," Arcade said, walking over to me. "What a-"


    "Shhh!" I hissed behind my helmet, and held up a finger. "Shut up. You guys hear that?"


    There was a moment of silence, as everyone started looking around.


    "I don''t hear anything," Cass spoke up.


    "Exactly," I gripped my G36 tighter. "The ghouls have stopped making noise."


    That''s about the time a door on the second floor of the atrium exploded. I spun around just in time to see a tidal wave crashing down on us... a tidal wave of shredded metal and yellowish-green fire. I frantically vaulted backward out of the way, shooting into the quickly dispersing mass of fire, smoke and ash - and the trio of ghouls leaping out of it. Part of me wanted to shout something about glowing ones, but I couldn''t even hear myself think over the noise of gunfire and screaming ghouls.


    As soon as he hit the ground, the glowing ghoul in front started to charge me. Even though the explosion was nothing more than smoke and ash by now, the whole room was still lit up, thanks to the trio of ghouls and their bright yellow glowing insides shining through their skin. The oneing at me had its eyes and mouth wide open, shining like shlights.


    The bark of gunfire sounded off all around me. I fired a trio of slugs dead center in the middle of the ghouls chest, but it didn''t seem to even notice. Within seconds, it had closed the gap andtched onto me with his talon-like hands, screaming in my face, and not even burying the barrel of the G36 deep in its gut and holding down the trigger could detach him.


    And that''s about when the glowing one let off its party piece.


    A hum filled my ears, followed by a very loud bang, and my whole body was hit with a massive shockwave. It felt like I''d been hit in the chest with a wrecking ball, and I went tumbling head over heels through the air. Everything went sideways and upside down. All I could see was the same yellowish-green fire that blew up the door, and the noise was so deafening that I could barely hear my Pip Boy''s Geiger counter clicking away madly.


    My G36 was knocked out of my hands on the trip down, and I had no idea where it went. I hit the ground hard and felt myself slide against metal before finallying to a halt. I shook my head to try and get my vision to clear, and I suddenly realized that I was currently hanging headfirst over the edge of the giant hole. I grabbed Roscoe off my thigh and pushed off against the floor to get away from the dark abyss and back on my feet. By then, another glowing one (or, maybe it was the same one, I don''t know) appeared, screeching and glowing so bright I thought it was ready to explode.


    Before I got a chance to line up a shot, however, the glowing one was knocked violently out of my field of view. Raul had appeared from nowhere, tackled the glowing one from behind, and the two of them went tumbling into the dark hole at my feet. There was a crash, another muffled explosion, and a sh from within the gaping chasm.


    "Raul!" I shouted, looking down the hole after him. On the downside, both he and the ghoul were out of sight. On the plus side, they were obviously still close enough for the glowing one to light it up. It wasn''t nearly as long a fall as I initially thought; it just dropped into a hallway only one floor below. Without any further hesitation, I pulled out That Gun from behind me and jumped into the hole with both guns drawn.


    And for all my enthusiasm, I was still a bitte.


    "Oh... hey Boss..." Raul sounded a bit out of breath. And no wonder - the glowing one was lying in a crumpled, twisted heap at Raul''s feet. It almost looked like it''s neck had been snapped. Small patches of yellow-green fire were still smoldering along the edges of the hallway, and my Geiger counter was still ticking away. "Sorry about that. Didn''t think you''d be able to take another st like that. I didn''t scare you, did I, Boss?"


    "...Raul?" I asked hesitantly, lowering my guns and starting to move forward - and then deciding against it. "Are you... y''alright?" Raul looked down at himself quizzically, as if only just then realizing that his skin was emitting wisps of yellow-green smoke, and his insides were lit up beneath his skin. He wasn''t quite as bright as the dead glowing one at his feet, but... the effect was still there, and it was unsettling. Especially when he looked back up at me with a pair of glowing eyes like lit candles.


    "Oh! This?" He waved it off. "Estar bien. It''ll wear off. In... an hour. Or two." He let out a single, very loud hacking cough,plete with a puff of yellow smoke. "Just... don''t get too close, alright Boss?"


    I didn''t get a chance to respond. At that precise moment, a glowing one hit the rim of the hole right above me - after flying through the air upside down - and snapped in half with a loud crunch, falling down right next to me. I looked up to see Veronica standing at the edge of the hole, yellow gore stained super-sledge in hand.


    "We''re all clear up here," she said casually, like she was talking about getting the mail. "Are you two alright down there?"


    "Uh..." I looked back at Raul. He seemedpletely unfazed by the fact that he was still glowing and emitting colored smoke. "Sort of?"


    "You dropped this," Cass appeared at the edge of the hole, and knelt down to hand me my G36. "You should be more careful with your toys." Even though I couldn''t see her face, I knew she was looking smug.


    "Thanks." I took it with a nod.


    "Hey, Boss!" Raul spoke up, pointing at the wall. "Would you look at this! A sign on the wall pointing to the armory - and the hallway isn''t copsed!"


    "Look on the <em>bright</em> side," Raul grinned back at me over his shoulder, and I groaned inwardly. "At least with me in the lead, you won''t need any more shlights!"


    "Seriously man," I kept pace a few feet behind him. "Are you sure you''re going to be okay? I mean... glowing isn''t healthy. At least, I don''t think it''s healthy. Arcade, back me up on this. Glowing isn''t healthy, right?"


    "It''s fascinating, is what it is!" Arcade said with enthusiasm - but still behind me. "I had no idea the bio-luminescence of glowing ones wasmunicable! Has this ever happened before? If you''re still glowing when we get back to the Lucky 38, can I run some tests on your-" Mercifully, Arcade was cut off before he could get too far.


    "Seriously. Locos. I''m fine. Just absorbed a few too many rads all at once, it''ll wear off soon." Raul shook his head and sighed. "Deja de preocuparte."


    "I''m with Raul on this one," Cass chimed in. "He doesn''t look any worse for wear than Jason Bright. Remember him?"


    "I remember he wanted to go into space," and constantly spouted off illogical religious nonsense like the inside of his brain was rotten, I decided not to say.


    "Forget that," Boone spoke up suddenly. "Is anyone else concerned that we haven''t run into any more ghouls?" I had to admit, Boone had a point. We''d been walking down this twisting corridor for maybe 15 minutes, and we hadn''t seen a single ghoul since the glowing ones.


    "Maybe we killed them all?" Veronica offered up hopefully.


    "Could be they learned to steer clear of the heavily armed intruders. They might be feral, but I doubt they''re all suicidal..." Raul mused aloud,ing to a stop at a door next to a pile of rubble and refuse. "Or maybe it''s just dumb luck. Either way, Boss, I think we''re here." Sure enough, the illuminated sign above the door said "ARMORY" in big block letters. The door was rusted, and looked like it hadn''t been touched in several decades.


    "Alrighty then..." Raul moved out of the way as I stepped forward, trying the control panel next to the door. There was a clunk, and it squawked at me. "Yep. Locked. Thought it might be." I cast a nce behind me, over my shoulder. "Boone, you''ve got the charges, right?" Boone''s only reply was a curt nod before reaching into his duster.


    "Wait, charges?!" Arcade asked, a bit of worry creeping into his voice. "Like, explosives? Those kind of charges?" I nodded.


    "Figured the armory door might''ve been locked, so rather than spend half our lives on a wild goose chase for a terminal or keycard to open it that might not even exist anymore, I thought we''d just... cut out the middle man. With a block of C4." By the time I finished exining, Boone had finished cing the explosives on the door, and handed me the detonator.


    "You might want to step back," Boone said before calmly walking around the nearby corner. The rest of us swiftly followed, and when everyone was behind the corner, I flipped open the safety on the detonator.


    "Fire in the hole?" I squeezed the trigger, and immediately the hallway was filled with fire. At first, I thought that there hadn''t been any noise at all - but then, when all I could hear was ringing, I realized the explosion was just so <em>loud</em> that I''d been rendered temporarily <em>deaf.</em> On the plus side, the door had seemingly evaporated (once all the smoke cleared), and all that was left was a smoldering, smoking hole in the wall.


    "I think that got it," I said aloud, shaking my head to try and get my hearing back. By the time I stepped through the hole in the wall, I could hear well enough to catch this little gem from behind me: "I''m not sure you made it loud enough, Boss."


    "Alright," I said to myself, waving away what was left of the smoke. "Let''s see what we can..." I trailed off, finding myself at a loss for words.


    There were almost as many guns down here as there were in the Gun Runner''s armory. Maybe more, and that''s saying a whole hell of a lot. Assault rifles, carbines, submachine guns, pistols, sniper rifles, body armor, rocketunchers, grenadeunchers, grenades, explosives, ammunition...


    "Holy fuckin'' glorious mother of shit!" Cass was obviously notcking for something to say. "We''ve hit the mother lode!" Behind me, I heard several indistinct murmurs of agreement.


    "Alright, start looking," I said, shouldering my rifle, and scanning the weapon racks and piles of guns. "The Pulse Gun is an energy weapon, so it should stand out like a sore thumb down here. Once we grab that, we can turn... around... and..." For the second time in as many minutes, I was rendered speechless. All around me, I could hear the boots of mypatriotsing to a stop behind me, obviously as captivated as I was...


    "Damn." Boone was the only one who spoke up.


    It was a Fat Man. A shoulder mounted, tactical nuclear catapult was just... <em>sitting there</em>. Out in the open. Along with three football sized mini nukes. Slowly, carefully, I took hold of the Fat Man, and set it on my shoulder, just to try it out. It was surprisingly light - I was expecting it to weigh a ton and a half, but it didn''t seem any heavier than the anti-materiel rifle. Bit more cumbersome perhaps, but...


    "It''s definitely you," Cass said with a chuckle, nodding approvingly.


    "Screw it," I said, refusing to set down the Fat Man. They couldn''t see it beneath the helmet, but I literally could not stop smiling. "We take it <strong>all</strong>. Everything we can carry. No sense leaving it down here for the ferals, right?"


    "Wait, all of it?" Arcade blurted out. "What, do you think we''re all pack brahmin or something?"


    "I''m pretty sure he thinks we <em>all</em> are," Raul chimed in from his spot near the exploded door.


    A few hourster, after a quick dose of Rad-Away and a shower, Veronica and I were in the kitchen. Most of the haul was in the spare room (along with all the other weapons we''d collected over the past few weeks and had yet to sort through), but there was one thing sitting square in the middle of the table: the Pulse Gun.


    It was a small tube with a pistol grip on the bottom, and a dish-emitter on the end instead of a barrel. It was made mostly out of unpainted, silvery metal, except for the copper tubes on the top surrounding the mounting point for the small energy cells it obviously used as ammo. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a weapon that was the bane of powered armor everywhere... it seemed very unassuming.


    "So..." I leaned against the table, looking at the pistol. "This is it, huh?" Veronica nodded, standing across from me with her arms folded across her chest. "What''s wrong?"


    "Nothing... just..." Veronica shrugged. "I dunno. I thought there''d be more dials and buttons on it and stuff."


    "Who cares what it looks like?" I said. "It''s the electronic equivalent of a disease from Gomorrah."


    "Assuming it actually works," Veronica leaned against the back wall. "It''s not like we have a spare set of power armor to test it."


    "Well, there is that armor you wear under that robe of yours," I said with a smirk. Veronica''s sullen expression did not change.


    "I said a <em>spare</em>. I''m not giving up a one-of-a-kind piece of hand built tech just for a weapons demo."


    "That''s what I figured you were going to say," I grabbed the pulse gun off the table, and made my way past her. "Which is why I''ve provided an alternative arrangement." Veronica looked at me curiously as I walked to a panel next to the kitchen door. It was a new panel that had only been installed just the other day; I hit the ''talk'' button with the side of my fist. "Yes Man, you reading me?"


    "Oh! Hi there!" Yes Man''s cheery voice sounded off from the speaker. "How are you doing today? Was your trip sessful?"


    "Good, the inte works..." I muttered with a smile before clearing my throat. "Yes it was. Could you send a Securitron up to the Presidential suite, like we agreed on earlier? Oh, and one thing: make sure you''re recording telemetry."


    "Absolutely! One target practice dummy,ing right up! I think this is a great idea!" There was a click, a burst of static, and the inte shut off. Less than a minuteter, the elevator doors opened and a Securitron with Yes Man''s face rolled out.


    "Hi there! How can I -" Before he could finish, I fired the Pulse Gun point nk. There was a sh of blue electricity, and a weird inverted popping noise that was quickly drowned out by the sound of sparks. Lightning undted and rippled all around the outside of the robot for the half second it remained upright - and then it fell backward with a crash, the face-screen exploding from the inside.


    As the roboty there on the ground, smoking away, Veronica walked up beside me. I twirled the Pulse Gun around in my hand, and offered it to her grip-first.


    "Well, at least we know it works now," she said, taking the weapon. For the first time since we found it, Veronica almost cracked a smile.

 Chapter 89: I Could Make You Care

    Chapter 89: I Could Make You Care


    It was close to noon when Veronica and I set out for the Hidden Valley bunker with all the tech loaded up in the backseat. And when we were about halfway there, I finally decided to break the unbearable silence.


    "Alright, I can''t take it anymore. What''s wrong?" I asked. Veronica had been leaning against the door, looking out the window, and she immediately perked up.


    "Wh-what?" she eventually stammered out. "Nothing''s wrong. Why would you..." she trailed off, apparently not even convinced herself.


    "V, we''ve been in the car for 20 minutes now, and you haven''t said a word. And yesterday, when we were in the Vault, you were very, very quiet. Something is eating at you, I can tell." I cast a nce at her, and it looked like Veronica was trying to sink into the chair. "So, c''mon. What''s wrong?"


    I had a feeling I <em>knew</em> what was wrong, but... I had to ask. Just to be sure. For another minute or two, Veronica sat there quietly, steadfastly refusing to speak. Eventually though, she let out a very, <em>very</em> heavy sigh.


    "Have you ever... do you ever get the feeling that you''re making a huge mistake?" I kept my face as impassive on the outside as I could muster, but inside I wasughing hysterically.


    "... asionally, yes." I said once I was sure I''d be able to answer withoutughing out loud. "Why do you ask?"


    "Well..." Veronica sighed again. "I''ve just... been looking back. I''ve made a lot of mistakes. I''ve trusted people, or my own judgment... and it''s always seemed to end... badly. Christine, Elijah..." Veronica got quiet, and practically whispered the next word: "... Cass..." She buried her face in her hands, running them over her head and inadvertently pushed her hood back. "I don''t know... maybe it was..." She copsed against the seat back, and let her hands fall off her head. "I''m just worried that I''m making another mistake with this."


    "What, with Cass?"


    "No, that''s..." Veronica cleared her throat, and pulled her hood back up. "...not... an issue. Anymore. No, I''m talking about McNamara." The light bulb clicked in my head, and I mentally started kicking myself.


    "You don''t think the Pulse Gun is going to convince him." It wasn''t really a question.


    "I..." Veronica paused, staring out of the window. "I don''t know. I''ve tried so many times to convince him, but... There are some days it just... feels like I''m fighting a lost cause."


    "As long as you''re still willing to fight for it, it''s not lost," I said. "And it''s like you said before. You''ve got to try, right?"


    "Yeah... but so much has gone wrongtely, and... I just wish something could go <em>right</em> for once, you know?" I nodded somberly.


    "It would be a nice change of pace," I said simply. "For what it''s worth..." I paused, not sure if I should finish that thought. "... I''m sorry about Cass." Veronica sank deeper into her seat, pulling down her hood even more.


    "It''s not your fault..." She muttered. I tried my best not to wince. "Fuck, it was my own damn fault. I guess... I was just a little too nave to think I could actually make Cass and I..." Veronica sighed again. "...work."


    "Are youing?" Veronica asked when she opened the door to the bunker. She had all the air filter parts and the Pulse Gun in a bag slung over her shoulder.


    "Yeah, I''m on my way," I said while digging around in the trunk of my car. "I just need to grab some things first." I pulled the anti-materiel rifle out of the trunk, made sure it wasn''t loaded, and slung it over my shoulder. Even out of the corner of my eye, I could see the horrified look on Veronica''s face.


    "Wh - Sheason, what are you <em>doing?</em>"


    "Well, I got to thinking about what you said earlier," I said, grabbing a grenade, a few shotgun shells, and an assault rifle magazine. "And if McNamara isn''t convinced by the Pulse Gun, I had a few other ideas. Call it a ''n B'' for our little show-and-tell."


    I admit it - that was only <em>partially</em> true. I''d been thinking about how this meeting might go thest couple of days, and I realized that the Pulse Gun might not be enough. Which is why, before Veronica even got up, I made a quick trip to the Gun Runners and grabbed a few things which might help make our point just as good - if not <em>better</em>.


    "And one of those ideas is to go into the bunker looking ready to <em>storm</em> the ce?" she asked.


    "C''mon V, you should know me better than that by <em>now</em>. I''ve seen the kind of firepower that''s waiting down there. If I was suicidal enough to try something like that - which I most certainly am <em>not </em>- I''d bring something like the gatlingser, not a long range rifle like this. This''d bepletely useless in those narrow, twisty corridors."


    "... could you just leave the rifle in the car? Please?" Veronica asked, pleadingly. "Trust me - if you go in there, armed like that... it''ll send entirely the wrong message."


    "Alright, alright. You''re the boss," I put the giant gun back in the trunk, and decided that a single .50cal bullet would be sufficient to make my point. "Let''s go."


    "Wee outsider, wee!" McNamara said with a surprisingly jovial tone of voice as the two of us entered his office. "And Veronica as well, wee back!"


    "McNamara," I gave him a nod as we made our way up the steps to his desk. "I take it you''ve heard the good news?" He nodded with a smile.


    "Yes, I just received word from Senior Knight Lorenzo. He tells me the parts that you acquired were in excellent condition, and he is installing them as we speak. Your efforts have humbled me... Mr. Fisher," He smiled, obviously proud of making a point to call me by name, rather than outsider. "We should not have had to rely on your help in this crisis, but... despite that, you have done more than I could expect, even from my Brothers. You have proven yourself to be a trusted ally to the Brotherhood. Thank you."


    "Hey, I said I would help. But can you do one thing for me?" I asked. McNamara''s expression faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered.


    "Within reason, outsider," he said with narrowed eyes, but still smiling. "What is your request?"


    "Listen to Veronica for a few minutes?" and with that, I stepped back down, letting Veronica get front and center. He looked at me, back at her, then back to me, and finally settled on Veronica.


    "Veronica, I hope -"


    "I brought you a present," Veronica said, cutting him off and setting the Pulse Gun on his desk. "This is a Pulse Gun. It was developed by the pre-war military for the sole purpose of disabling power armor. Just <em>one</em> of these could defeat the whole Brotherhood! This proves that we need to stop limiting our focus to military technology - it''s not going to save us." McNamara stared at the gun as she spoke, and finally looked up at her with a stern expression when she finished.


    "Veronica, this weapon could be the only one of its kind."


    "That''s not the point!" She shouted. "Technology isn''t going to win our wars for us. We need numbers - new recruits!"


    "What does the Codex say?" McNamara asked with stony resolve. Veronica sighed and looked away.


    "A bunch of closed-minded bullshit..." She muttered. McNamara sighed.


    "We do not help them or let them in." The way he said it sounded like he was merely rattling off a specific passage from memory. "We keep knowledge that they must never have."


    "Give it a chance," Veronica turned back to McNamara, pleadingly. "For me. I... I can''t stay here and watch us waste away!" Slowly, McNamara shook his head.


    "I''m sorry."


    "But... we''ll die out..." Veronica''s voice fell. McNamara sighed, his voice going nearly as quiet.


    "I know," he almost whispered. Veronica looked at him onest time, the corners of her eyes starting to glisten, before turning on her heel and walking away from his desk.


    "Come on," she said to me. "I... can''t listen to this any more."


    "You go on ahead. I''ll catch up," I said. Veronica nodded somberly and walked out of his office. As soon as she left, I cracked my knuckles and walked up to McNamara''s desk. "Alright, my turn."


    "Outsider?" McNamara looked up at me, confused. "What are you doing?"


    "I had a feeling the Pulse Gun wasn''t going to be enough," I said, picking it up off his desk and slipping it into my duster. "So I brought a few other things for you to chew on." With that, I pulled out the .50 cal bullet and set it on his desk with a thunk. "I''m sure you know what this is."


    "A .50 BMG cartridge?" McNamara looked up at me curiously.


    "Yes it is. I pulled this from the magazine of my anti-materiel rifle. You know - the gun specifically designed to punch through <em>tanks</em>? I''ve seen first hand what the standard round - like this - will do to severalyers of metal and Ker. It will simply pass through it like it <em>wasn''t there</em>. What do you think something like that will do to power armor?"


    "What''s your point?" He seemed less annoyed now, and now more curious.


    "This is wonderfully low tech, McNamara. In fact, it''s so low tech that people out in the wastnd can <em>make </em>these rounds pretty easily. Think about that. Any walk-the-wastnd fuck with ess to a reloading bench can <em>make</em> ammunition for a gun that will blow a hole in power armor the size of my <em>fist</em>. Oh, but wait!" I reached into my duster again, and set a rifle magazine on the table.


    "5.56mm NATO rounds?" McNamara picked up the magazine, regarding it curiously.


    "Almost. Look close at those bullets. See the ck tips? They''re <em>armor piercing</em>. a whole magazine worth. I''m willing to bet that''s the same kind of ammunition the NCR used against you guys when they took Helios. I''m sure you''re aware, that kind of ammo will turn any basic assault rifle into a very effective anti-power armor weapon."


    "Yes, but -" I didn''t let him finish.


    "Then there''s this," I set a small shotgun shell on the desk. It had a yellow shell case, rather than the normal red. "This is a 12 gauge round that I picked up at the Gun Runners just this morning. This costs 5 caps a round, which is <em>nothing</em>. That''s stupidly cheap. Instead of firing buckshot, this has a specially made slug that generates a small, localized electromaic pulse. This hits something like a robot or, let''s say, <em>powered armor</em>, it''ll shut down," I snapped my fingers, "instantly. And this isn''t rare, either. They have <em>boxes </em>of this stuff. And while we''re on the subject of EMP''s..."


    "Mr. Fisher, I don''t see the point of-" I cut him off yet again. I was on a roll, and I wasn''t going to stop until I was done.


    "I''m sure you know what this is," I said, setting down a pulse grenade on his desk. "In fact, I''m betting there are plenty of these in your armories here in this very bunker. The reason I bring it up? You said to Veronica that the Pulse Gun..." I reached behind me, holding up the energy pistol, and turning it around in my hand. "...might be the only one of its kind. Well, this grenade right here is proof that it''s <strong>not</strong>. It uses the same principle - same with the 12 gauge pulse slug. It''s <strong>not</strong> one of a kind. This kind of tech is not only out there, but it''smon as hell."


    "You already heard my answer to Veronica," McNamara said through gritted teeth. "I ask again: What is your point?"


    "My point?" I sighed, shook my head, and started collecting everything sitting on his desk. "My point should be pretty obvious, McNamara. There are multiple ways to get around power armor - weapons and ammunition that are easily essible to <em>anyone</em> out in the world. You guys aren''t the gods of the wastnd that you used to be, and the fact that you''re hiding in a bunker should prove that. The rest of the world is getting back on its feet, and you guys have stayed still."


    "<strong>Mister Fisher</strong>," McNamara said forcefully, holding up his hand. I leaned back and let him speak. "Stop. Please, just... You..." He sighed through gritted teeth. "... don''t need to convince me. I already know the Brotherhood is on a doomed path. But I can''t <strong>do </strong>anything about it." I raised an eyebrow. "My hold on this chapter is tenuous - <strong>at best</strong>. I''m sure that you''ve met Head Pdin Hardin?"


    "Yeah," I nodded. "I met him the other day, when Veronica and I came down here the first time..."


    "I assume that he tried to enlist your aid in removing me from my position as Elder?" he asked. I nodded slowly. "Exactly," McNamara sighed again. "If I try and institute policy that goes against the teachings in The Codex, it would be just the excuse Hardin would need to force me out of my post, and take over as Chapter Elder. In fact..." McNamara grimaced and started to rub his temple. "It''s <em>because</em> of Hardin that I''ve been hesitant to lift the lockdown."


    "What do you mean?" I asked genuinely curious. He paused, like he was debating internally to even tell me.


    "A few days before Veronica arrived with you in tow, a number of my scouts returned from recon missions on the surface with intelligence they''d acquired. And every time I went over the reports, I kepting to the same conclusion: the NCR isn''t the threat I believed it to be. Their war with the Legion has drained their resources considerably, and their hold on the Mojave is not as absolute as it was when they took Helios. By all ounts, I should lift the lockdown. Send regr patrols into the wastnd. But I know... if I do that, then Hardin will insist on sending a force to retake Helios. Even weakened as it is, we don''t have the numbers to sessfully assault the NCR and retake that facility without considerable losses. And we would <em>never </em>survive the inevitable counter-attack. We can''t <em>afford</em> to lose any more members."


    "Wait, back up," I said, unfolding my arms. "You''re Chapter Elder. Aren''t you the guy in charge? Why can''t you just, I dunno, change the Codex?" McNamara sighed and shook his head.


    "Because I''m the Elder of this <em>Chapter</em>, not the whole <em>Brotherhood</em>. I don''t have the authority to alter the Codex. The other members of this Chapter would revolt if I ever tried to do something so audacious."


    "Alright, so who <em>has </em>the authority?" I asked, getting tired of the runaround. "Is there anyone around here or in the Mojave who has the authority?" McNamara stared at me, his eyes practically boring into the back of my skull. Apparently, my ignorance was annoying him.


    "You wouldn''t know, because you are not one of our order. So, I shall educate you. The Brotherhood of Steel was founded in the wake of Nuclear Fire in 2077, by US Army Captain Roger Maxson. It was his hand, as First High Elder of the Brotherhood, that wrote down the first ts of the Codex. Only one whose soul has been forged from Eternal Steel may alter The Word. And what <em>that</em> means, is that only a member of the Maxson line has the authority to change it, and no other."


    "Okay..." I tried not to sound exasperated; everything always has to be so fuckingplicated, doesn''t it? "So, where can we find a Maxson?"


    "There are none left," McNamara said with a heavy sigh. "Thest of the Maxson line was sent East, to join the Chapter ordered to scour the ruins of Washington D.C. There hasn''t been any contact with that Chapter since the mid-2270''s. It''s been presumed that the entire Chapter - and thest of the Maxson line - have all been lost."


    "There''s no one else?" I asked. "Not one?" McNamara shook his head.


    "No. Without a member of the Maxson family to help us get back on course... The Brotherhood is doomed to die a slow death. I''m sorry, Sheason, but you and Veronica are fighting for a cause that is already lost."


    It took me a while to find Veronica after leaving McNamara''s office. She hadn''t told me where she was going... but, after asking a few people who''d seen her pass by, I eventually caught up with her: she was in her bunk.


    It was a small room, with metal walls, a metal bed, a metal desk with a glowing green terminal in the middle, and metal floors. There were a few boxes scattered around, and - surprisingly enough - a few posters on the walls. You could almost call it cozy, though, I think that had more to do with the electric guitar leaning up against the wall and the small amplifier next to it than anything else. When I walked in, Veronica was sitting on the edge of her bed, hunched over and shaking her head.


    "V?" I said as I walked through the door. "Are you alright?"


    "He wouldn''t listen," she said, continuing to shake her head. "The truth was right there... just staring him in the face. And he still just... wouldn''t listen." Veronica buried her face in her hands. "I thought I knew him better than that, but... but it was like talking to a stranger. His mind was made up from the start." She looked up at me, her arms falling limp at her sides; her eyes were red and puffy. "How can I help them when they won''t ept it?"


    "Hey... Veronica. It... It wasn''t your fault." Veronica looked up at me, utterly confused. Over the next few minutes, I outlined everything McNamara had told me. The more I talked, the more her expression sank.


    "So he... He''s just as powerless to change things as I am. There''s nothing we can really do, is there?" Veronica sighed and hung her head.


    "Doesn''t look like it. Not unless you know where we can find a Maxson somewhere." I pulled the chair away from the desk, and sat down opposite her. "So. Where does that leave you? What''s our next move?"


    "I..." Veronica leaned back, and inhaled deeply, obviously trying to calm herself down. "I don''t think I can stay. Maybe it would be better for everyone here if I left. Spend my life... somewhere else. I don''t know. I could... I suppose I could always work with the Followers, and put my knowledge to some good use."


    "After everything you''ve said, it''s hard to imagine you with the Followers." I said tly. Veronica shrugged, and the edges of her mouth twitched.


    "Well, it''s either that... or I stay here with the people I care about, and do... whatever I can. And I keep at it, day in, day out, until everythinges to either a slow - or a sudden - end."


    "I guess when you put it like that," I leaned back in the chair and forced out a grim smirk. "Leaving now is going to be your only shot at a future."


    "There''s no getting around that. But..." Veronica looked worried. More worried than she already had been, at least. "They''re not going to like it if I leave."


    "Well, yeah. You''re really good at what you do, they''d be stupid to-" Veronica shook her head, and I shut up.


    "That''s not what I mean. When we''re young, every child born into the Brotherhood is given a choice. You can either stay with the Brotherhood, or you can leave and strike out on your own... and the choice is supposed to be for <em>life</em>. The Brotherhood doesn''t react kindly to oathbreakers..."


    "That..." All sorts of images were flowing through my head, and none of them were good. "That doesn''t sound encouraging."


    "But if I stay, then I''ll be forced to live out a lifetime of scavenging and watching my friends die in losing battles."


    "That''s a hell of a choice," I muttered. Veronica just shook her head.


    "No. I already know what I need to do... what I <em>should</em> have done earlier..." Without warning, Veronica got up off the edge of her bed, and made her way to one of the posters on the wall. Very carefully, she removed it off the wall and started rolling it up. "Grab those boxes by your feet. It''s time for me to leave."


    "So, is this all you want to take with you?" I asked as we neared the staircase that led to the exit. The tworge metal boxes in my hands were heavy, but not unduly so. Veronica was carrying the bulk of it: the metal tube that had all her posters - along with the guitar - was strapped to her back, and she was carrying arge metal box under one arm, and the amplifier under the other.


    "It''s all that I have that''s worth anything. To me, at least."


    "I didn''t even know you yed guitar," I said, eying the instrument on her back. Except for the neck, it was all curved, with rounded edges, and looked like it was made out of <em>wood,</em> of all things. There was some cursive writing on the head, near the tuning pegs, but I didn''t know enough about guitars, much less electric ones, to make any sense of it: ''Stratocaster.''


    "I... don''t really y," Veronica said with a shrug - impressive in itself, given how much she was holding. "I only know, like, three chords, that I taught myself..."


    "That''s three more than me, I don''t know shit." I could be mistaken, but I thought I heard her chuckle. "So, what is all this, anyway? What''s in the boxes?"


    "Just a few records. I recovered both them and the guitar from a bunker in California, about ten years ago."


    "Records?" I asked, looking down at the boxes in my hands. "What, like files? Documents? Holotapes?"


    "No..." Veronica looked at me over her shoulder, and actually started smiling... slightly. "I mean, real records. Vinyl LP''s. <em>Music</em>. Those kind of records."


    "Seriously?" I honestly couldn''t believe it. I knew what vinyl records were, I''d seen them in old world holotapes... but I''d never seen one in person. I''d always just assumed that they were so fragile that none of them survived the apocalypse. Veronica gave an affirmative "Mmhmm," in response.


    "Why do you think you''re carrying a portable turntable?" She said, motioning with her head to the smaller box in my hands.


    "Is that what this is? I thought it was a suitcase." I asked.


    Sadly, I didn''t get an answer. At least, not <em>then</em>. Because at the precise moment we finally exited thest staircase in the bunker proper, and walked into the concrete antechamber that separated the bunker from the surface... we were greeted with a very unwee sight. Four Brotherhood Pdins, in full power armor and all heavily armed, were barring our way. If the Gauss minigun carried by the man in front was any indication, then we''d run into this same group of Pdins before...


    "Just as I suspected," the man in the lead said, his voice echoing and reverberating as it passed through the filter on his helmet. "We''d heard that you''de back to try and fill the Elder''s head with seditious lies - trying to undermine his authority. And now that you have obviously failed, what do we find? It looks like you''re trying to <em>leave </em>with pieces of Old World tech. Have you forgotten your oath, Veronica? This is treason of the highest order, and we will not stand for it..."


    "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" I shouted, setting the boxes I was carrying on the ground, and stepping forward - directly between Veronica and the Pdins. "Chill your tits, boys. You''re jumping to entirely the wrong conclusion here. You know what she does, right?" I pointed my thumb over my shoulder at Veronica, and kept going before they could answer. "Far as I know, her job description is to go out in the world, and find tech to bring back. You know how <em>boring</em> the outside world is? It''s pretty fuckin'' boring! That''s all this is - entertainment for the times between trips to the bunker."


    "I don''t believe you, outsider," The man in front snarled and managed to loom over me somehow, despite being at least six feet away.


    "Cutter, it- it''s true. If you won''t listen to him, listen to me. This is just my music, that''s all." She leaned down, and opened up one of the boxes - sure enough, it was filled with easily a hundred vinyl record sleeves


    "Besides, I don''t really think a <em>guitar</em> counts as Old World tech. Not like those Gauss rifle''s you''re carrying, at any rate..." I did my best to back her up. But, just looking at the four powered armored Pdins standing there, staring at us behind those imprable masks and standing like statues... I had no idea.


    "Hmmmph," the Pdin in the lead grunted eventually. "She''d be doing a greater service by carrying out her duties and not spending all her time on frivolous entertainment... " He motioned with his head to the Pdins behind him, and they started following him; before he went back into the Bunker, he stopped right in front of Veronica, staring down at her. "Don''t think we''ve forgotten your attempt to undermine the Elder''s authority. This had better be thest time your loyalty falters, <em>scribe</em>. You''ve been warned."


    Veronica didn''t say anything until we were already back in my car with everything loaded in the backseat. As soon as the Hidden Valley bunkerplex was behind us, she let out a huge sigh of relief.


    "Well... if there was any question whether I should leave, I guess Cutter and his cronies gave me my answer..." Veronica slumped into the seat and turned to look at me. "Thanks for the quick thinking back there."


    "Hey, some of the best lies are based in truth..." I muttered, a pang of guilt stabbing at the back of my mind. I shook it off and tried to keep the conversation going. "You sure you''re okay with leaving them behind?"


    "I think if I stayed, I''d just end up causing trouble. Sometimes, I just can''t help myself. This way is better for them... and for me."


    "Well, for what it''s worth, I like the particr brand of trouble you bring to the party," I looked over to her when I finished speaking, and saw a small smirk start to creep into the side of her mouth. "Still interested in travelling with me?"


    "Absolutely. Truth be told, even after everything that''s happened... the 38 is the closest thing to a home that I''ve ever had. But as far as I know, drifting is in the job description. I''d still like to establish a... real connection first."


    "What, you want to talk to April and Emily about joining the Followers? Maybe Arcade? I''m sure he won''t give you any grief about it at all." I said, not even trying to mask my sarcasm.


    "Uh... no." Veronica shook her head and chuckled softly. "I actually had something else in mind entirely..."


    "Doctor Alvarez?" Veronica asked as we walked into the Followers outpost near the 188 about half an hourter. "Are you in here?"


    "Oh! Hello, Veronica!" The middle-aged woman in thebcoat emerged, beaming with a friendly smile. "It''s so nice to see you again so soon. What can we do for you?"


    "Hi. Er... There''s something I think I need to tell you. You know how I told you I used to be a mechanic?" Veronicaughed nervously, and scratched the back of her head. "Yeah... that story wasn''t... <em>entirely</em>... urate..."


    "I think that went well!" Veronica said when we were back on the road, headed to Vegas.


    "Yeah, she was very understanding when you said you were a member of the Brotherhood. I honestly couldn''t have called that, I figured she might be suspicious. But I still don''t get why she wants you toe back <em>tomorrow</em>."


    "Weren''t you listening?" Veronica said, sitting up in the seat. "Doctor Shiller, or whatever his name is, isn''t going to be back in until tomorrow. ording to Alvarez, he''s the one in charge of assignments."


    "Eh, fair enough," I shrugged. "So! You got a whole day free, to do whatever you want before we go back. Anything in particr you wanna do?"


    "Truthfully?" Veronica buried her face in her hands and groanednguidly. "I want to go back to my room in the 38 and <em>sleep</em>. Is it a bad thing that I feel more exhausted <em>now</em> than after any of our trips to the Vaults?"


    The only answer I could think to give was a shrug.

 Chapter 90: Lost Causes

    Chapter 90: Lost Causes


    <em>The bunker. I''m at the bunker.</em>


    <em>This... this </em><em><strong>was</strong></em><em>the entrance to the Brotherhood bunker, wasn''t it? </em>


    <em>Was it? </em>


    <em>I can''t tell, there''s too much dust everywhere. Is that camouge system of theirs active? I thought they only activated it at night...</em>


    <em>So, what''s that light I''m seeing?</em>


    <em>I started walking toward the light as quick as I could manage... no easy feat, thanks to all the sand, grit, and wind sting me in the face. The closer I got to the light, however... the more I realized that it definitely wasn''t the light of day. </em>


    <em>Before I knew what was happening, the sandstorm cleared, and in its ce - surrounding me on all sides - was fire. All around was just the biggest ze I''d ever seen, burning out of control and belching ash and smoke into the sky.</em>


    <em>I shielded my face from the heat, but I noticed something strange about the fire... something inside the fire. Bodies. </em>People<em>. Dozens of people. Maybe hundreds, I couldn''t tell. All of them encircling me,pletely consumed in fire... I couldn''t make out any details about who these people were, or why they were just standing around, indifferent to the mes.</em>


    <em>And yet, somehow, one figure right in front of me was instantly recognizable.</em>


    <em>"Veronica!" I shouted, finally forcing my mouth to work. </em>


    <em>I rushed forward, looking around for something - anything - to put out the mes. But it was no use. There was nothing. I couldn''t do anything but watch in wide-eyed horror and stunned silence as Veronica stood there,pletely still and expressionless, as the fire consumed here. The mes licked higher and higher until she (and the rest of the people around her) dissolved into nothing but ash.</em>


    <em>The mes snuffed themselves out instantly, and darkness flooded my senses. Instinctively, I dropped to the ground... and was surprised when I felt cold, smooth steel beneath my feet, rather than the sand and grit I was expecting.</em>


    <em>I felt around, trying to get my bearings, and my hands unexpectedly ran into a wall. Above me, I heard a familiar beeping. Was ED-E around here, somewhere? </em>


    <em>I looked up, trying to find the flying robot, and realized that I was in a tunnel, or a hallway... somewhere. I didn''t know where this tunnel was. All I could see was that it was long, and there was...</em>


    <em>Was that someone at the other end of the hall? Who is that? It''s definitely not ED-E.</em>


    <em>I got up and started walking to the feminine figure, backlit by the light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn''t make out any details from this distance, but I... there was a nagging sense of familiarity tugging at the strings in my mind. </em>


    <em>Wait a minute...</em>


    <em>I </em><em><strong>know</strong></em><em> those curves.</em>


    <em>Just as that went through my mind, she turned to look at me over her shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of those green eyes beneath her raven hair.</em>


    <em>"Hey! HEY!" I shouted and started running. She just turned away from me, and kept walking. "Wait! No,e back!" I poured on the speed as much as I could muster, but no matter how fast I ran, she just didn''t seem to get any closer.</em>


    <em>"You''ll never be able to catch her," a familiar voice said behind me. "Because she isn''t really there..." </em>


    <em>I came to a screeching halt without really thinking, and sure enough, the woman ahead of me disappeared into the light at the end of the tunnel. My heart sank... and a hand was ced on my shoulder. A familiar ck and white checked suit slid into my peripheral vision, apanied by the distinctive smell of cigarette smoke.</em>


    <em>"You''ve lost her, Courier," Benny said, flicking his cigarette onto the ground. "You lost her years ago, and you''re never gonna get her back. Be gracious about it."</em>


    <em>That''s when the ground fell out from beneath my feet. Everything went ck.</em>


    <em>I tried to move, but I quickly realized that I was lying on my back, with my arms and legs bound by... something. Metal? What was...</em>


    <em>"We have been waiting for you! Long have we watched, waiting for a visitor! " A male voice cut through the darkness. I didn''t recognize the voice, but it almost sounded... synthesized. Like it was a robot voice, or it was pushed through a filter. "What confused us... is why you were still wearing your skin. So, we stripped that away! You weren''t using it anyway."</em>


    <em>"Vivisectors online," I heard a second voice - a female - but just as synthesized, and still unrecognizable. "This will only sting... for a decade."</em>


    <em>I heard a mechanical whirring sound above my head. It sounded like a buzzsaw, and that was the exact opposite of encouraging.</em>


    <em>I felt myself tumble. It was like the table flipped over, and dumped me off. My hands and feet were no longer bound, but I couldn''t appreciate that for very long: almost as soon as the sensation of falling started, it was brought to an abrupt halt as I smashed face-first right into the ground.</em>


    <em>"Ugggghhh..." I grunted out slowly, trying to pick myself up. The ground felt strange. Almost... springy. I cracked open my eyes, running my hands through the... grass. This was supposed to be grass, wasn''t it? It wasn''t like any grass I''d ever seen. It felt strange... almost like strips of stic, and it had a unnatural blueish-green color to it...</em>


    <em>"Fuck... why is my head -" I brought my hand up to clutch my forehead, and immediately realized that something was horribly, badly wrong. About an inch above my ears, my head just... stopped. Frantically, I grabbed both sides of my skull with my hands, unable to fullyprehend what I was feeling. The top of my skull was... it was just simply gone. It was like the inside of my head was an empty bowl.</em>


    <em>I couldn''t make sense of this. I looked around, trying to get my bearings. Stretching out ahead of me was... I had no idea. It seemed familiar, but there was... a dome? A crater? Some kind of lights off in the distance, I think. I couldn''t make out any details - the more I tried to focus, the more out of focus things became. I was so intent on figuring out where I was, I almost didn''t notice when the ground dropped out beneath me, yet again.</em>


    I woke up with a start, and immediately banged my head against the wall.


    "OW! What the f-" I grabbed my head, and subconsciously let out a sigh of relief that everything was where it was supposed to be. I blinked away the haze, and looked around my room. I was lying on the floor, my legs tangled in the sheets that were still half on the bed.


    "Fuckin'' a..." I muttered to myself, clutching my head and trying to disentangle my limbs from the sheets. "I thought I was done with all those fuckin'' nightmares..."


    I stared out at the Vegas skyline from the balcony outside my room. It was that strange time when it wasn''t quite night anymore, but it still wasn''t day yet, either. That time that onlyes right before sunrise, when everything seems to move at a snails pace. Even the constant hustle and bustle of Vegas below me felt sluggish and weary.


    Or maybe that was just me.


    I raised the cup of coffee in my hands to my lips, pausing just long enough to take in the aroma. It was warm and acrid, filling my senses with a harsh bitterness that was a wee relief to my cloudy and muddled senses.


    "Ah, I wondered who made that pot of coffee in the kitchen..." I heard a voice off to my right. Arcade walked toward me, a coffee cup of his own in hand. "You''re certainly up early."


    "Oh, hey. Mornin'' man." I took another sip, and set the tin cup on the railing. "Yeah, had a... bit of a... rough... night. You know how it goes." Arcade nodded, looking out at the city below us.


    "Trouble sleeping?" He asked. I gave a weary nod.


    "Yeah, somethin'' like that. Thought some fresh air would do me some good..." Arcade just sort of... stared at me curiously for a few seconds.


    "So, you thought you''d get some fresh air... by filling it with carcinogens?" He smirked, motioning to the cigarette in my free hand. I gave him a chuckle, taking a long draw... just because.


    "Coffee and cigarettes," I coughed out roughly, flicking the spent cigarette over the side of the balcony. "All part of a bnced breakfast for a growing boy." I grabbed the coffee cup and finished it off. "So, what about you? What are you doing up so early?" You don''t seem the type to suffer from nightmares, I didn''t say. I walked past Arcade - back to the kitchen to get more coffee - and he just shrugged.


    "The smell of coffee got me moving. I imagine everyone else will follow suit soon enough..." Arcade said, keeping pace right behind me. "So, what happened yesterday? I mean, all that trouble we went to, getting the parts for Veronica... did her n work? I mean... if it did, she hasn''t said anything."


    I didn''t say anything either, for a few minutes. I just stood at the stove, slowly pouring myself another cup of the bitter liquid.


    "Yeah... things..." I took a sip, stalling for time. "... didn''t... quite go to n." Arcade shrugged.


    "They never do."


    "Actually, you know... I think you''ll approve of what she''s doing," I said, leaning up against the counter. Arcade looked confused. "She''s gonna try and do what you did." That just made Arcade tense up.


    "What... I did?" Arcade was obviously trying very hard to keep his expression neutral. I nodded.


    "Yeah. She''s thinking of leaving the Brotherhood, and joining the Followers," Arcade seemed to rx slightly. "But you didn''t hear that from me. Veronica seems to think you''ll make fun of her for it." Arcade chuckled softly into his coffee.


    "Nah, I wouldn''t make fun. I''d congratte her. The Followers always need new talent, and she is... quite brilliant." He paused, and then smiled slightly to himself. "But you didn''t hear that from me. It''s always good when someone from a..." Arcade cleared his throat. "From a technologically advanced faction joins the Followers. Helps to share the knowledge, you know?"


    "Mmm," I nodded, taking another sip of coffee, and keeping my gaze fixed at him. The two of us shared the awkward silence. Until I decided to break it. "Alright, what''s up?"


    "Wh-huh?" Arcade perked up, confusion evident on his face. "Um... I don''t... uh..."


    "You just look lost in thought, man," I said with a shrug. "Something on your mind?"


    "You know what?" Arcade set his coffee cup down, and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah. There is something on my mind."


    "Wow," I chuckled. "I wasn''t expecting a straight answer. I thought for sure you''d dodge the question for another five minutes."


    "Heh..." Arcade smiled, shrugging. "Yeah, well... sorry about that. It''s a bit of a defense mechanism. I don''t... I''m sure you''ve noticed, but I don''t <em>trust</em> easily. I''m sure you''ve figured that out by now."


    "Oh, yeah," I said, nodding profusely. "Yes, yes, I definitely figured that out. So what''s up?" Arcade paused, as if debating with himself at thest minute whether or not to even tell me.


    "Any day now, Caesar''s going to try to march across Hoover Dam and kick NCR out of the Mojave. We''re getting caught up in something important out here."


    "<em>Getting</em> caught up?" I said with a chuckle. "Dude, we''re right smack in the fuckin'' <em>middle</em> of it." Arcade nodded.


    "Fair point. Look... I know I''m just along for the ride, but it''s... it''s made me think about the past. And how I might be able to help out." I raised an eyebrow at Arcade.


    "What are you getting at?" I asked. Arcade swallowed hard, and let out a heavy sigh.


    "I... wasn''t always with the Followers. Or with the NCR."


    "Yeah, I kinda already put that together, man." I calmly took a sip of my coffee, and just relished the look on his face. "You''re a terrible liar, and I''m not an idiot. So c''mon, let''s hear it. If you think there''s something you can do to help, I''m all ears." Arcadeposed himself in a surprisingly quick manner.


    "Well... Myte father was..." he paused, cocking his head in the direction of the kitchen door. Immediately, he mmed up. A few secondster, Veronica stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. "Y''know what? Uh... I''ll tell youter." And just like that, he cleared his throat and walked out, giving Veronica a friendly "Good morning!" as he passed.


    "Mmhmm... mornin''," Veronica waved weakly a few seconds after Arcade walked by. "Issat coffee? I smell coffee..." Veronica let out a huge yawn.


    "Alright, so, I have to ask..." Veronica said from the passenger seat, a few hourster. "Why are you armed to the teeth? We''re just going to the Followers outpost, right?" She looked out the window as she spoke, paused, and then looked back at me. "... right?"


    "We are..." I said. "But things have been getting more and more dangerous,tely. No more than being prepared." Veronica looked unconvinced.


    "But we''re going to see the <em>Followers</em>. Probably one of the most peaceful groups in the wastnd. It''s not like we''re going down into another Vault." I coughed ufortably.


    "Look, you know as well as I do that Legion is getting more and more aggressive. Hell, I''ve been ambushed by Legion hit squads at least twice in as many weeks - maybe more, I''ve lost count. I just think that it''s a good idea to be armed whenever... I''m... not in Vegas." I kept my eyes focused on the road, but nced at Veronica out of the corner of my eye. She sighed and shook her head.


    Of course, the exnation I gave her wasn''t quite the whole truth. But how could I tell her the <em>real</em> reason I was loaded up with guns? What the fuck would I even say? I had an ambiguous, half-remembered nightmare, and it was making me stupidly paranoid? I couldn''t say that. She would think that I''d lost my mind. Hell, I wasn''t entirely convinced that I hadn''t lost my mind <em>myself. </em>Aren''t only crazy people directed by their dreams?


    "That''s as may be," Veronica leaned on the dash, looking out the windows. "But aren''t you going a <em>little</em> overboard?"


    "I''m not wearing the helmet, am I?" I said simply.


    "I think the helmet is... the least... of..." Veronica trailed off. I was about to ask her what was wrong, but then I saw what she was looking at: a massive plume of smoke rising up from behind the next ridge.


    I didn''t need to check the map to know where that wasing from. That sinking feeling took hold in the pit of my stomach and wouldn''t let go.


    "Oh no... No, no, no, no, no, no..." was all I could hear from Veronica over and over again. I put my foot to the floor and poured on the speed. A momentter, my Corvega crested the hill, and the full extent of the carnage became clear.


    I didn''t know how, but the Followers outpost was still standing - despite being utterly consumed in fire. All around the burning, smoldering building, I could see signs of a struggle: bloodstained ground, scorch marks, a broken gpole... Images shed in my head - memories of Nipton, and how Legion sacked the town. But this didn''t look like Legion work. There were no bodies anywhere. Nobody strung up on crosses.


    "Who hit this ce?" I yelled, practically leaping out of my car with my G36 in hand. "Was it raiders?" I scanned the area, trying to find some targets - something to shoot. And at that moment... I got one.


    "Sharing knowledge with an outsider organization..." A deep, booming, and very unwee voice sounded off to my left. I wheeled around in time to see Cutter and the rest of his squad of Pdins march into view from around the burning wreckage, guns drawn and at the ready. "I knew Veronica couldn''t be trusted. We tracked your movements a long way, but it was worth it to catch her in the act. What have you got to say for yourself?"


    This was beyond bad. I may have been armed to the teeth, but the gun in my hands wasn''t loaded with armor piercing rounds, and it would take time to switch out the magazine - time I clearly didn''t have. They outnumbered us. There wasn''t really any cover to speak of except the burning building, and that was <em>behind</em> the Pdins. And worst of all, every single one of them was armed with Gauss weapons. This is exactly where I didn''t want to be.


    "Catch me in the-" Veronica practically shouted, stepping between me and the Pdins, with Oh, Baby! in hand. "I haven''t shared any secrets! You don''t - what - you <em>killed</em> them! You killed them all! W-why?!"


    "You''ve made your intentions in!" Cutter growled, his helmet amplifying his voice. "We will not risk any further damage! In the name of the Elder, I hereby sentence you to d-"


    I couldn''t hear what he tried to say next over Veronica''s roar. She charged Cutter in the time it took me to blink, and the next thing I knew the two of them went crashing through the burning wall and disappeared in a cloud of a fire, billowing ash, and splintering burnt wood.


    "Sarge!" One of the Pdins yelled out after they disappeared out of sight, and the three remaining power armored behemoths turned their attention away from me. And that was just the opening I needed.


    Quick as I could, I pulled the pin on the first grenade I couldy my hands on, tossed it in their general direction, and bolted. I hadn''t bothered to check, but it was probably just a frag grenade. Wouldn''t do much to hurt them, but I was hoping it would distract them long enough to buy me some time. I leapt over one of thest standing pieces of fence; I heard the explosion as soon as my shoulder hit the ground, and I rolled (hopefully) out of sight.


    "What the - he''s gone!" I heard one of the Pdin''s shout over the sound of rubble and dust settling. I kept myself as low to the ground as I could, and dashed for a piece of decently solid cover: an un-burnt metal dumpster right next to one of the burning walls. I heard the Pdin start to shout orders: "Spread out and find him! He can''t have gone far! Flush him out!"


    Three against one in a straight fight is bad at the best of times. But divided... I can work with this. Maybe. I shouldered the rifle, and pulled the Pulse Gun out from inside my duster. I could hear the tromp of their boots all around me. Sure enough, the barrel of a Gauss rifle emerged from the far side of the burning building, raised and clearly at the ready.


    The Pdin barely emerged into view before he was hit with a discharge of blue electricity. He screamed and convulsed once before his joints seemed to lock up; the lightning and sparks practically exploded across his armor. I had to shield my eyes from the heat and smokeing off the wall as I rushed forward. By the time I reached him, the lightning and sparks had disappeared, and he was standing still as a statue; I pushed up on the bottom of the Gauss rifle until the barrel pointed up right beneath his chin, and pulled the trigger.


    There was a sound like a sonic boom, and a muzzle sh that practically blinded me. I looked up, and that had done it: the Pdin didn''t really have a head anymore. The giant metal behemoth swayed for a half a second before plummeting backward with a thundering crash.


    That''s one.


    "He''s over here!" I heard one of the others shout. I grabbed the Gauss rifle, holstered the Pulse Gun, and ran in the <em>opposite</em> direction of the voice. I had to keep moving - if even one of them got a clean shot with these damn Gauss weapons, then it would be game over for me. I had to take them out quick. I checked the grenades I had on me as I ran. There was only one pulse grenade, so I''d have to make it count.


    I rounded the corner, and came face to face with another Pdin. I''m just d he was standing so wide. I managed to keep my momentum as I dropped to the ground and slid under him, right between his legs. There was a deafening boom from above me as he fired the Gauss weapon just a split second toote. I primed the pulse grenade, dropped it as I passed, kicked up off the ground, and kept running. A thunderp went off behind me, followed swiftly by another yell and the sound of sparksing off the Pdin.


    I spun around, my boots sliding against the rough ground for a feet; in the same motion, I leveled the massive Gauss rifle at the Pdin. There was a lingering aura of blue lightning still hanging in the air, but he was standing ram-rod stiff, just like the other one. I braced myself, and pulled the trigger. A sh, a thunderp, and a kick of recoil liked I''d been hit in the chest with a wrecking ballter, the Pdin had a hole in his back the size of my head. The power armored behemoth tumbled forward like a rag doll.


    That''s two.


    "Myers!" Thest Pdin yelled from the opposite end of the building. "Report! What''s going on?" That''s right. Keep making noise. I dropped the Gauss rifle, pulled a frag grenade off my chest, tossed it in the direction of the voice, and ran around the other side of the building as fast as I could. Sure enough, I heard the heavy thud of boots stomping after the sound once the grenade went off.


    I jumped over a piece of fence, quiet as I could manage, with the Pulse Gun in hand. There was thest Pdin, standing with his back to me, scanning the area. I calmly leveled the pistol, and hit him in the back with a bolt of blue lightning. He yelled, his armor sparked, and after wobbling in ce for a few seconds, he fell backward.


    And that makes three.


    I walked over to the copsed Pdin, pulling the G36 off my back... and part of me wanted to get a bit paranoid. Dropping all three of them had been way too easy. But then I remembered something Hardin had told me when I''d met him the other day: <em>"...many of our current Pdins haven''t even seenbat outside of training simtions."</em> Guess virtual reality training didn''t help these guys.


    Of course, I''m sure the pulse weapons hadn''t helped their chances, either.


    I knelt down and uncoupled his helmet after the sparks had subsided, G36 at the ready, and pulled it off him. Of course, when I saw his face... I lowered the rifle. His face was barely recognizable as a <em>face </em>anymore. It was blistered and bloody, like he''d been badly burned. And as for his eyes... I''m not really sure you could call them eye<em>balls</em> anymore, since they appeared to have exploded. If I had to guess, the Pulse Gun had overloaded and melted all the electronics, and cooked him inside his armor. Nasty way to go.


    Cooked...


    Oh, shit! Veronica!


    The building was still standing, but I didn''t know for how long - the fire was getting worse by the second. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I held my breath, held my rifle close, and ran at full speed into the hole caused by Veronica and the Pdin in the first ce.


    The heat and the smoke waspletely overwhelming. I could barely see anything. Why the fuck had I left my helmet behind? A piece of ceiling copsed right in front of me, and I only just barely avoided being hit in the head by burning lumber and scrap aluminum.


    "Veronica!" I yelled, trying my damndest to not cough from all the smoke. "V!" I shielded my eyes, and tried to squint away the ash threatening to clog up my vision. "Where are you?!"


    It didn''t take long before I got my answer. Above the sounds of the raging fire, splintering wood, and warping metal, I could hear another sound: something very heavy mming into the ground over and over again. A piece of wall copsed right in front of me, and there was Veronica. She was mming Oh, Baby! into the ground over and over again, and she was standing over... well, I''m sure it <em>was</em> Cutter. But it wasn''t a human being anymore. She was just mming her super sledge into a pile of twisted metal and ruined meat, surrounded on all sides by fire raining down in chunks from the ceiling.


    "V! C''mon! We gotta go!" I yelled as loud as I could over the fire, trying not to cough and hack from the smoke. She didn''t stop pummeling. When she raised Oh, Baby! up again, I rushed forward, and grabbed her by the sleeves, trying to shake her back to her senses. "VERONICA!" That seemed to do the trick. All I could really see through the haze of smoke were her eyes - wide from shock. "Give it up, he''s dead! This ce ising down around us!" As if on cue, a piece of ceiling near us gave way in a gout of me. "C''mon!"


    She nodded weakly - almost like she wasn''t really there. So I turned her around and grabbed her by the back of the robe, doing my damndest to help lead her out of the inferno. She kept pace walking beside me, but not with the urgency that I would''ve liked in someone escaping a burning building.


    I made sure that the two of us kept our heads down, navigating the maze of fire and falling debris until finally I saw sunlight in front of us. I know I practically leapt through the hole, and since I was still holding onto Veronica I knew that she was right behind. The two of us kept running and didn''t stop until we got back to my car - where we both copsed against the side, trying to cough the ash and smoke out of our lungs.


    "You -" I hacked out a few more coughs, turning to Veronica. "You alright?" She just sat there, leaning up against my car, coughing with a nk expression on her face. She was covered from head to toe in soot and ash... not to mention the stters of blood. She didn''t say anything. She just leaned up against my car, staring nkly up at the sky and coughing asionally.


    We''d gotten out just in time. As I sat there, the ceiling finally gave up the ghost and copsed in on itself. A gout of me and smoke erupted as the roof caved in, and the walls rattled and shook as the mes licked higher and higher. All I could do as I sat there was watch... and cough. Fuck, that was a lot of smoke.


    "God..." Veronica said suddenly. "God, I did this..." Her voice was soft and low, cracking like she was on the verge of tears. "This... this was my f-fault. Why didn''t I s-see this c-c-" And that was it. She just buried her face in her hands and started sobbing. I''d seen her mask start to crack before, but I''d never seen it disappear sopletely like this. She did her best topose herself quickly, but...


    "Of course they''d track me," she said, wiping her face with her sleeve and sniffing loudly. "Of course they''d assume the worst. Sure, I left them, but... fuck, I should have known that I''d never be <em>free</em> of them..."


    "V, c''mon... you -" I coughed again, unable to hold it back. "It''s not your fault. You didn''t do this - it was Cutter and his cronies." Veronica just held her eyes shut as she shook her head, tears streaming down her face.


    "I should have left a long time ago," she said, her voice cracking less and less. "Cut my losses before it came to this... If I did, none of this would have happened..."


    I turned away, shaking my head. Just give her time. Once she lets it out, she''ll realize that it wasn''t her fault. It was Cutter and his squad of Pdins that had tracked us...


    <em>"We tracked your movements a long way."</em>


    "Tracked..." I said aloud, the word ying over and over in my head. "How did they even track us?" I thought back to yesterday - when Cutter and his team had confronted us in the antechamber. Why had they...


    And then the light bulb went off. In a sh, I flipped around on my knees, and started checking underneath my car.


    "Sheason?" Veronica spoke up. "What are you -"


    "MOTHERFUCKERS!" I shouted. I couldn''t help it. I yanked the small device off the underside of my car, holding it in my hand for Veronica to see. It was just a small box, but it was a foreign object that certainly wasn''t supposed to be there. "They put a tracking device on my car! That''s how those assholes found us!" I chucked the damn thing as hard as I could, straight into the burning building. Veronica just shook her head, and sniffed loudly again.


    "I never stood a chance."

 Chapter 91: Enter the Ultra-Luxe

    Chapter 91: Enter the Ultra-Luxe


    Ding.


    Veronica and I didn''t say anything as we walked out of the elevator. With how awful the two of us must have surely looked, there wasn''t anything <em>to </em>say. Hell, if I looked even <em>half</em> as bad as I felt, then I must look absolutely fucking terrible. It had been a hell of a day, and it was barely even noon.


    "Oh, hey guys," Cass muttered absentmindedly as the two of us walked into the kitchen. "You''re back earlier than I expe-WHOA!" She seemed a bit more alert once she actually took notice of us. "What the fuck happened to you two?"


    "Oh, you know..." I shrugged, sliding past her on my way to the fridge; I coughed, and a cloud of soot and ash shook off me. "Just another day at the office."


    "Fucking-A, man... you guys look like <strong>shit</strong>." Well, that answers that. Apparently I did, in fact, look about half as bad as I felt. "What, did someone try and light you guys on fire or something?"


    "Near enough." I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, tossing one to Veronica; she caught it without even moving from the doorway. For a solid minute, nobody spoke. Cass was too busy looking at us with ck-jawed confusion, and Veronica and I were too busy trying to wash out the awful taste of ash. I only spoke up again once the bottle in my hand was empty. "Hey, V? Are you..."


    Veronica didn''t answer right away - not even when I trailed off, at a loss for the right thing to say. She just finished her water, letting the empty bottle drop from her hands, and started... staring. Not at me, or Cass, or at anything, really. She just had this dull, unfocused <em>look</em> in her eyes. It was a look that spoke volumes about how exhausted, how lonely, and... just how <em>defeated</em> she must have felt.


    "I... I''ll be... I..." She sighed, trying in vain to wipe some of the soot from her forehead with her sleeve, and only seeding in making her face look dirtier. "I just..." She didn''t finish. She just turned on her heels, and slowly walked away. As soon as she was out of sight, Cass edged closer, and started whispering:


    "... Dude. What the fuck happened?"


    "It''s just..." I sighed, shaking my head. "It''s been a bad day."


    "Yeah, you can say <em>that</em> again. Understatement of the fucking century." When I didn''t immediately respond, Cass gestured with her hands, obviously eager for me to keep going. Eh, might as well tell her.


    "We got attacked by a sqaud of Brotherhood Pdins," I said simply. Cass'' eyes went wide.


    "Oh <em>shit</em>..." she gulped audibly. "So... does that mean..." Are we going to have to deal with assassins from both the Legion and the Brotherhood now, she didn''t need to say.


    "I dunno. I mean... I''m not sure, honestly." I sighed, running my hand through my hair to try and shake more of the ash and soot out. "Last I talked with McNamara, he seemed pretty dead-set on <strong>not</strong> lifting the lockdown. Not to mention he seems to care for Veronica''s well being. Given that, I highly doubt that he''d lift the lockdown just to send a squad of Pdins to kill us. Especially since it was the same squad that had been bird-doggin'' us since Veronica brought me into the bunker..."


    "So what are we going to do?" Cass'' worried expression didn''t change.


    "I... I don... Until we get concrete proof McNamara was behind sending them out, I''m just going to... leave the Brotherhood alone. I''ll go upstairs, tell Yes Man that we should focus on something else for the time being."


    "You think that''s going to work?" Cass asked. Her expression seemed to suggest she didn''t think it would.


    "Short term? Maybe. If I''m right, and McNamara hasn''t lifted the lockdown, then they shouldn''t venture beyond Hidden Valley, and they won''t attack us unless provoked. If nothing else, we''ll have a bit more breathing room, so we can deal with them after all that business with the Dam is taken care of."


    "But..." Cass looked back in the direction Veronica left. "... we <em>are</em> going to have to deal with them."


    "Yeah..." I muttered grimly. "And that is <strong>not</strong> something I''m looking forward to."


    Ding.


    "April. Emily." I nodded to the two scientists as I made my way down the stairs to their cluttered workstations in front of Yes Man''s monitor. There was a faint sound of musicing from somewhere I couldn''t see; was there a radio up here? "What''s the good word? Any progress?" April didn''t look up from herputer; she just absentmindedly nodded as she typed away, a pencil clutched in her mouth. Emily, on the other hand, turned in her seat with a smile.


    "Oh! Hey, Sheason," She smiled, brushing a few errant strands of red hair out of her face. "It''s, uh... yeah, it''s been slow going. But steady!" She added quickly. "Every day we keep finding more. A lot of it is kind of... it''s the sort of thing that isn''t really useful unless one has essrge manufacturing facilities, or vast stockpiles of raw material... but we haven''t really found a whole lot that can bridge the gap between where we <em>want</em> to be, and where we <em>are</em>. "


    "Hey, anything is better than nothing," I said. At least there''s <em>some </em>good news from <em>someone</em>.


    "Actually, there was a bit of news. Sort of. We sent over the first batch of holotapes to Julie Farkas the other day. She wanted me to pass on her gratitude for giving us so much ess to so much information."


    "You should''ve given them to me to send over, I <em>am </em>a courier after all," I said with augh. "To be honest, though, I didn''t reallye up here to check on your progress. I actually came up here to talk some business with Yes Man." Instantly, the big monitor blinked into life, and Yes Man''s gigantic, smiling cartoon face looked down at us.


    "I thought I heard someone say my name! Hi there! What can I do for you today?" Yes Man boomed.


    "Do you, uh..." Emily looked up at Yes Man''s monitor, and then back at me. "Do you want us to get out of here?" I shrugged.


    "Ehh," I shrugged. "Don''t want to interrupt your work. Besides, this shouldn''t take too long. Alright, Yes Man..." I sat on the edge of one of the desks, stalling myself so I could think of how best to phrase this. "Close the file on the Brotherhood. They''re... for the time being, consider them taken care of. Got it?"


    "Got it!" He said, cheerful as ever. "I''ll ignore the fact that they''ll want to blow me up for as long as you deem necessary! Consider them forgotten! That''s four down, two to go!"


    "Four, huh?" He must have been counting the Chairmen in that list, along with the Boomers, the Omertas, and the Brotherhood. And I''ll be honest... the only one of those I <em>didn''t</em> have any serious doubts about were the Boomers. "Alright, who else is left?"


    "ording to the files Benny stored in my databanks during my stay in The Tops, and cross-referenced with some of the reconstructed files in House''s system, thest two tribes we should deal with before moving to the next phase of the n are the Great Khans and the White Glove Society!" Yes Man said proudly. "It''s up to you who we should deal with next! Or not! We could just ignore them, like we''re going to do with the Brotherhood!"


    I let out a huge sigh. He wasn''t going to let that one go, was he?


    "The White Gloves are thest of the Three Families, aren''t they?" I asked.


    "They sure are!" Yes Man said proudly. Truth be told, I already knew the answer. I just wanted to move the conversation away from the Brotherhood. And really, I didn''t want to leave Vegas again so soon, so dealing with them first, <em>then</em> the Khans seemed like the best course of action.


    "Tell me about them," I said firmly. "If they''re anything like the Chairmen or the Omertas, then I''ll need to do <em>something</em> to get them in line."


    "From what I understand, they''re perfectly delightful!" Yes Man said matter-of-factly. "They''re cultured, clean, and super-polite! Of the Three Families in Vegas, they''re the richest - despite their casinos catering to a smaller percentage of total tourists on The Strip! Benny didn''t like them, though! He said they were ''creepy''!"


    "Yeah, I think I remember Swank saying something simr..." I mused out loud. "Something about the masks they wear, right?"


    "I''m honestly not sure! It''s all very mysterious! I think that''s what they''re going for, but frankly - who knows? Certainly not me!"


    "Alright," I got up off the desk, and started walking away. "I''ll let you know when I finish checking out the White Gloves. I''ll make sure to see what''s what over there."


    "Don''t hurry on my ount! I''m the one with the flexible schedule!" There was a burst of static, and Yes Man''s face disappeared from the screen.


    "Well then," I said. "Best get to work." As I started to leave, I noticed April - still absorbed in whatever it is she was working on - halfway acknowledge me by waving goodbye.


    "So, you''re going to the Ultra-Luxe?" Emily asked, following me as I started to walk up the stairs back to the elevator. "Don''t you think you should... I dunno, <em>change</em>?" I looked back at her, confused.


    "What do you mean?"


    "Well," Emily scratched the back of her head and let out a pair of soft, nervousughs. "No offense, but...bat armor and trenchcoat? I''m not sure you''re really dressed well enough for a ce like the Ultra-Luxe."


    "Yeah, probably not. Hell, I''m pretty sure I wasn''t dressed well enough for <em>Gomorrah,</em>" I rapped my knuckles against the breastte several times. "But I was damn d to be wearin'' this when a Legion assassin tried to ambush me." Emily stopped at the top of the stairs, and just stared at me for a second or two.


    "Wh- seriously?"


    "Yeah, I didn''t tell you this? When I went to Gomorrah, there was a wetwork specialist trying to get the Omerta''s on the Legion''s side, help them with a takeover n. Damn near took my head off with a garrote."


    "What happened to him?"


    I thought back to that fight - how I kicked him out of a window, and how Cachino told me they found himter, wrapped around an AC box.


    "I sent him to cool off." She just stared at me nkly. Obviously, it was funnier in my head. "Well, anyway. If the Ultra-Luxe is as fancy as you say it is, maybe I''ll need someone to help me look respectable. Wanna tag along?" This just seemed to perplex Emily further.


    "Ah... ah-heh, yes, well... um... ah..." She smiled weakly, and her cheeks started to flush like mad. "As... <em>generous</em> as that offer is, I''m not sure how well I''d do at making you look respectable. I mean... really, what you see is what you get." She gestured to her sses and Followersbcoat. "This is... basically the only outfit I own. Hell, if you hadn''t offered us a ce here in the 38, April and I would probably be staying in Vault 21 because it''s the cheapest ce on The Strip - if we could get past the credit check. Er... and besides. There''s still a lot of... stuff... that needs to be done in terms of unlocking House''s files. So... I think that I''m going to... Thank you. But no. I''m good with <em>not</em> being attacked by Legion assassins."


    "Suit yourself," I said with a smile and a shrug. "Just don''t work too hard, right?" Emily blushed again, and smiled.


    "Oh, don''t worry about me. I know how to pace myself. It''s April who''s the workaholic. I don''t think she''s left that terminal since she made a pot of coffee..."


    "That''s not too bad," I said.


    "At four in the morning." Emily finished.


    "Oooh... yeah." I grimaced, trying to hold back augh. "Yeah, I can see how that''d be a problem. You guys should rx, or you''re gonna risk burning yourselves out."


    "Actually... speaking of rxing..." Emily paused, as if unsure what to say.


    "Yes?" I asked.


    "Well..." Her sses slipped down the bridge of her nose, and she peered at me over them. "I promised you a drink, didn''t I? You ever going to take me up on that?"


    I''m gonna be honest, I wasn''t expecting that. Was she...


    "Uh... not right now," I said as diplomatically as I could. "I''ve kind of... you know, got work to do. But...ter. Rain check?" Emily nodded, pushing her sses back up her face.


    "Later is an eptable answer," She said with a smile. "It''s that no thing that gets me."


    Ding.


    I''ve never been more grateful to be made paranoid. That may sound silly, but keep in mind: I was up in the Penthouse, and only two people besides myselfe up here on a regr basis, and they were both already here. Which is why, as the elevator doors started to slide open, my hand was resting on Roscoe, ready to draw it. Who could be...


    "Veronica?" I said, taking my hand off Roscoe as casually and nonchntly as I could. "What are you... uh... what''s up?"


    "Uh... yeah. Hi Sheason," Veronica said eventually. She still wasn''t really looking at me. "I was just thinking... I know today didn''t... it was... sort of... horrible. But I still..." Veronica finally looked up at me; even though her eyes were red and puffy, it was obviously a look of as much determination as she could muster. "I still want to do some good. I figured, if I can''t help the Followers... there... then I might be able to help them here."


    "You want to help with the decoding project?" I said, looking over to Emily. The redhead scientist could not look happier.


    "That sounds like a great idea!" Emily practically bounced over to Veronica. "We could always use more help, and your expertise from the Brotherhood will definitelye in handy, I''m sure of it!"


    "Sounds like a n," I smiled at the two of them. "Hell, we should get Arcade up here to help, too. With you and April, Yes Man, ED-E, and now Veronica, he''s probably going to end up here anyway."


    The Ultra-Luxe was located at the absolute south end of The Strip. When I finally got to the front of the casino, I couldn''t help but admire how rich the ce looked. Hell, even the sign out front was ridiculous - it looked like it was made out marble, with the words "The Ultra-Luxe" and "Las Vegas Resort" written in fancy cursive and (backlit in gold) underneath a shield with "UL" written in the middle. The whole thing was even topped with a <em>crown</em>.


    That would''ve been enough by itself, but then they had to make it even more ridiculous with a gigantic fountain spraying dozens of jets of water 20 feet in the air. There are people out in parts of the wastnd dying because they don''t have clean water, and they''re using it as <em>decoration</em>. Even being here for so long, there were still parts of Vegas I couldn''t quite wrap my head around.


    What''s more, I couldn''t quite figure out what the shape of the casino reminded me of. I mean, the entrance was under a under a dome covered in gold lights, and behind that was a tower (made out of ss, obviously) with a top that looked like it had been cut off at an angle, creating a diamond shape. Every edge was lined with gold lights, making the whole building shimmer and glint. But then there were two... I almost want to say "wings" on either side of the tower, with a shape that reminded me a little of the grandstands at the speedway north of Nellis.


    I actually thought it was kind of funny - this was obviously the most expensive casino on The Strip, with the way the ce practically oozed money. But all you had to do was look right across the street, and there was the <em>cheapest</em> casino, Vault 21, sitting like a squat, ugly brick under the gear-shaped Vault door sign.


    That sense of being surrounded by money stayed with me as I stepped through one of the big double doors in the front of the Ultra-Luxe. The walls looked like white marble, the lights in the ceiling looked like they were made out of gold, and even the carpet beneath my feet had the faded green color of pre-war cash.


    "Beg your pardon," I heard a voice off to my left. "But could I trouble you to turn over your weapons?" The voice belonged to the man behind the front desk... at least, I''m pretty sure it was a man. I couldn''t really tell behind the mask. He wore a tuxedo with a white tie, white gloves (obviously) and a white mask thatpletely covered his face, and was decorated with gold filigree around the edges.


    "Sure," I said, offloading the obvious weapons I carried with me... but I was pulling the same trick I did when I went to Gomorroah. I wasn''t going to give him <em>everything</em>...


    "My deepest apologies for the slightest inconvenience," the man said as he loaded the assault rifle, the submachine guns, the pistols, the knives, and all the various grenades into a metal box, locking it and handing me a metal im ticket. "You have my assurance that everything will be returned upon your departure. But we simply can''t have anyone waving their weapons around in the hotel. It''s not the atmosphere we wish to cultivate."


    "Seems reasonable enough," I put the tag in my pocket, looking around. The greeter reached under the counter, and a second set of doors on either side of the counter slid open, allowing me ess to the rest of the casino.


    "Please, enjoy your stay."


    You know, maybe I was being paranoid.


    I''d been wandering around the casino for twenty minutes now, and nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. I mean, the ce was a bit... <em>empty</em>, sure, but it''s possible that was just because there weren''t any slot machines anywhere. The employees were a bit creepy, too, but I just attributed that to the masks they all wore. It all seemed harmless enough.


    Of course, that''s about when I got to the bar. In the center of the room was a giant statue of a blueish-purple flower with green highlights made entirely out of ss and lit from within. Surrounding it was the bar, with the base of the flower acting as the shelf for all the liquor, and the bar itself made out of dark-green granite and ringed with brass poles. The ceiling was a massive dome, made out of ss triangles, spilling gold light everywhere. But the one thing that stood out most of all was the patron at the bar wearing a ck 10 gallon Stetson - and the man standing next to him wearing leather armor... and carrying massive shotgun.


    Now, <em>that</em> is interesting. Why is this guy allowed to carry a gun? Next thing I knew, my feet had carried me to the seat next to the man in the cowboy hat. And it wasn''t all that long after I ordered my drink that he turned to me a struck up a conversation. I didn''t even have to prompt him or anything.


    "Beg your pardon, stranger," the man said, and I turned to get a good look at him. He was an older man, with a full head of grey hair under his hat, and an impably groomed Van Dyke around his mouth. He was wearing a suit that matched his hat, and somehow managed to pull off ''fancy'' and ''rustic'' at the same time. "My name is Gunderson. Heck Gunderson. You ain''t seen a young man with dark brown hair and white hat ontely, have you?"


    "Sorry," I said, taking a sip of the whiskey that just arrived. "I haven''t seen anyone like that." As I said that, Heck sighed heavily.


    "Ain''t nobody got one darned piece of news about my boy? Not one lousy speck of information?" His voiced cracked slightly as he spoke. "Ain''t got one Brahmin unounted for across a dozen ranches, but I''m here for an hour and my own son just up and disappears on me."


    "You lost your son?" I asked. The pit of my stomach didn''t quite fall out, like it always seems to do before something bad happens, but... there was definitely something wrong, and the only way to figure it out was pursue this.


    "My boy, Ted. He was right here," he gestured to the seat at his left, close to where his bodyguard was standing. "I didn''t leave him but a minute. I told him to stay put while I talked some things over with the White Glove folks. Got most of my staff out looking for him now. I''d be out myself, but I keep hoping he''ll show up back here! ''Course, if he does <em>that</em>, I''ll whup him till his skinny hide turns to leather for putting me through this. But that don''t mean I won''t be grateful."


    "You''re doing business with the White Gloves?" I asked. "That why your man is allowed to carry a piece in here?" I motioned with my head to his bodyguard. Gunderson just smirked.


    "Made me a special arrangement with the hotel. They want to do business with me, they got to y by my rules. Lot of people out there resent sess. Might wanna take a swipe at me. This should make ''em think twice. If I''d have been thinking, though, I''d have had him watching my boy instead. Then maybe none of this would''ve happened."


    "I don''t mean to pry, but... what business do you have with the White Gloves?" Part of me wanted to ask more about his missing son, but I needed to get some information about the White Gloves, and this seemed like the most promising lead.,


    "That business is between me and them," he said matter-of-factly. "But lets just say they control the food supply around here. I got lots of food to give - Brahmin and bighorner meat from my dozen ranches - but that ain''t as wee as you might think. Especially with those masks... Real hard to trust folks like that. Couple of them show their faces. That''s who I do my business with."


    Now... that sounded promising.


    "You know," I said, finishing off my whiskey. "I''ve got some business with the White Gloves myself. I can''t promise you anything, but I''ll see what I can do about trying to find your boy. I''ve gotten pretty good at solving problems over thest few weeks, and this seems right up my alley." Gunderson nodded, and smiled at me when I said that.


    "I''d be more than happy to have your help. Heck, I''ll hire anybody with a pair of legs and at least one good eye at this point. There''d be a lot of money in it for you if you can get him back to me safe. And if he ain''t safe... well... you can bet I''ll pay for the names of the sons of bitches responsible."


    Yeah, that doesn''t sound ominous at all...


    "I''ll see what I can do," I said, getting up from the bar.


    "Wait, hold on. Before you go," Heck called out after me before I got two feet. "If you''re serious about helping, I think I should at least know your name." I just chuckled, and shrugged.


    "Me? I''m nobody," I gave himzy wave, and turned on my heel. "I''m just a courier."

 Chapter 92: CSI New Vegas

    Chapter 92: CSI New Vegas


    After asking around, I found out exactly where I had to go: a ce in the Ultra-Luxe known as the Conservatory. I''d never heard the word before, so I didn''t know what to expect... and that meant that when I finally <em>got</em> there, I was in for a bit of a shock.


    I opened the doors and was immediately in a sea of color. There were nts of all sorts in every direction, and in every color imaginable. I was a bit confused - what the hell were all these nts even <em>doing </em>here? - until I looked closer and realized that most of them were fake. Even though they were fake, the afternoon sun trickled in through the curved ss ceiling above me. It kind of reminded me of the greenhouses I''d seen in Vault City years ago.


    I walked along a rough stone path, winding through the colorful garden of artificial flowers. At the end of the path was arge gazebo, whose only inhabitant was a woman sitting on one of the benches ringing the edge. She didn''t seem to notice me at first, as she was looking out over the garden, and casually sipping on a ss of red wine. She looked maybe a few years older than me - a little on the young end of middle age - with wavy, shoulder length dark-brown hair. She was wearing a simple (yet deceptively elegant) lc dress with only one shoulder, and she had a pair of earrings and a ne that looked like... were those pearls? Whatever they were, they matched the color of the silky gloves she was wearing that went up just past her elbows.


    "Uh... excuse me," I said, carefully stepping into the gazebo. "I don''t mean to disturb you, but... are you Marjorie?" She turned and smiled at me, setting her ss of wine down on the bench next to her.


    "Ah, yes, hello!" Her ent was... it was a bit odd. It sounded sort of... cultured and refined, but not quite. It was like she was trying very hard to maintain it. "I was wondering when you would find me."


    "Really?" I asked, a bit confused. She just continued to smile, nodding slightly.


    "My staff informed me that a man inbat armor and a duster was looking for the head of the White Gloves. Normally, I wouldn''t deign to meet with someone dressed so... <em>unfashionably</em>," she coughed daintily. "But I think I can make an exception for the Courier. Don''t you?" All I could do was smirk.


    "You''re good. Most people don''t realize who I am until I actually <em>say</em> I''m the Courier."


    "Well, your deeds both on The Strip and beyond have garnered quite a bit of attention. I pride myself on being a woman ''in the know,'' as t''were. So, tell me - what can I do for you?" She gestured to the bench on the opposite side of the gazebo.


    "Well, there''s some business I think you and I need to discuss a bitter," I said, sitting down opposite Marjorie as she took hold of her wine ss, taking another sip. "But first, there''s... something else. I''m looking for someone who went missing here recently." As soon as I mentioned the missing person, Marjorie paused mid-sip.


    "This again?" She set down her wine ss, trying to hold back a grimace. "I thought all this was settled. I answered every one of that investigator''s questions to his satisfaction and gave all the help I could."


    <em>Investigator? </em>I thought to myself. <em>Heck hadn''t mentioned an investigator. It didn''t seem like Gunderson''s son had been gone long enough for him to hire one...</em>


    "I know our reputation hasn''t always been spotless," Marjorie continued. "But that''s all in the past now. How some people can''t get over it is beyond me. For thest time: the White Glove Society has never, and <em>will</em> never consume human flesh for any reason. It''s written in the charter."


    "That''s... a very suspiciously specific denial..." I said, taken aback by her matter-of-fact tone of voice. "So, you''re saying there have been usations of..."


    "We don''t <strong>do</strong> that sort of thing," Marjorie said forcefully. "We do not engage in cannibalism here under any circumstances, as I said. Though... we haven''t always been the White Glove Society. There was..." Marjorie''s expression fell. "... another time. A dark time, when we went by a different name..." She cleared her throat, andposed herself rather quickly. "But that''s all changed now! We have <em>evolved</em> past such base impulses since settling into our new home. I''ve seen to it personally that those days are behind us."


    "Alright," I held my hand up. "Enough. I get the point. I won''t mention it again. Back to the disappearance - who did you talk to? Who was the investigator?"


    "I don''t really remember his name, but there was an investigator who came through herest week," Marjorie said, and the bottom of my stomach fell out in the way it always does when things are about to go sideways. "He''d been hired by a young man whose bride-to-be went missing during their stay here. Well, you can already guess what probably happened, can''t you? It seems perfectly likely that she got cold feet and ran off. And that young groom just didn''t have a clue, the poor dear."


    "I''m actually investigating someone else," I said. "A man, not a woman. And he just recently went missing - probably in thest few hours." Marjorie froze, and her face seemed to lose all expression when I said that.


    "A... a <em>man</em>?" She asked, almost incredulously. "Well then this... well, this can''t be. <em>Two </em>disappearances in <em>my</em> hotel? This is absolutely uneptable, what will people <em>say</em>? As soon as we''re done here, you can be sure that I''m going to have a few choice words with my staff about security on the premises. Whether these people are found or not, our guests simply <em>must</em> feel safe in their own rooms."


    "You do that. Is there any way I can talk to this investigator dude?"


    "Why yes, I... I think so," This news had rattled her, if the slight stammer was anything to go by. "If he hasn''t checked out yet, that is. I had our head concierge, Mortimer, offer him aplimentary room for as long as it took for him to be satisfied. You see?" Marjorie raised her ss to me, and smiled again, finally regaining herposurepletely. "The White Glove Society remains the very picture of courtesy, even in the face of such impolite usations. We have nothing to hide here."


    "I''m sure you don''t," I said as I got up, doing my best to hold back the sarcasm.


    I''m not sure I was entirely sessful.


    Even though I hadn''t been told specifically where to find him, or what he looked like, I had the distinct impression that I was looking at Mortimer right now. For one, he was one of the few people who worked here who didn''t wear a mask. And for another, he was standing behind arge curved desk, with a clipboard in hand, underneath a sign reading "Concierge" in curved metal letters. Behind him was a wall full of tiny boxes, each with a tiny hook and a tiny metal card. All of the hooks held keys, but only about half of them had more than one.


    "Hi," I said, walking up to the counter; he immediately set his clipboard down, and I was able to get a decent look at him and holy crap this guy is <em>tall</em>. Or maybe that was just the top hat. No, wait, I''m standing straight up and my eyes are about level with his tiny mustache. On anyone else, that kind of mustache would just make him look pathetic, but for some reason... it didn''t. In fact, when you took the whole package - the mustache, the tux, the top hat, and the gaunt, thin face, he managed to look both menacing and approachable. How does that happen?


    "Wee to the Ultra-Luxe," he spoke in a surprisingly deep voice. It wasn''t particrly <em>loud</em>, but every syble was enunciated very precisely. "How may I be of service, sir?"


    "You''re Mortimer, right?" He nodded. "I spoke with Marjorie a few minutes ago. She said that you gave a free room to a private investigator? Is that true?" Mortimer looked pensive and started stroking his chin.


    "Private investigator... Ah," he snapped one of his gloved fingers. "Yes, yes. I remember the gentleman. This was about the missing bride, wasn''t it? Such an awful thing. I do sincerely hope he finds her whereabouts. If I might pry, have you found something that will help his investigation?" As he spoke, I could feel his eyes staring at me. The longer he stared... the more it was making my skin crawl. I couldn''t really exin <em>why</em>, but...


    "In a manner of speaking," I said, shaking off the sense of unease. "You could say I''m on an investigation of my own." Mortimer''s eyes narrowed.


    "You are? Nothing so grim as his investigation, I hope." I shrugged.


    "I''m not sure yet, but I believe the two cases may be linked. I''m hoping that we can help each other. Swap notes, you know - one private eye to another." Slowly, he started to smile and nod his head.


    "Ordinarily, we wouldn''t even consider handing out guest information. As head concierge of the Ultra-Luxe, such a breech of trust would besmirch my reputation among the other concierges in the Society of the Crossed Keys. However..." He reached behind him and pulled a key off one of the boxes, setting it on the counter and sliding it to me. "I think, given the circumstances, he''ll want to speak with you. If my memory of the guest registrar is correct, then he hasn''t checked out yet. You should be able to find him in his suite, room 413."


    "Thanks for the help," I nodded, taking the key. Mortimer smiled.


    "I certainly hope we can put this matter to rest, atst."


    I stood outside the door to room 413, looking up and down the long hallway. Like the rest of the hotel, the walls looked like marble, the carpets looked like old money, and the lights bathed everything in a gold glow. But, for some reason, there wasn''t anyone here. To be fair, the Ultra-Luxe wasn''t exactly packed with people like some of the other casinos on the Strip, but this was a whole different kind of empty. And it was really making me nervous.


    "Hello?" I said, knocking on the door. "Is there anyone in there?" No response. That sinking feeling grabbed hold of my gut and wouldn''t let go. And as soon as I turned the key, opening the door to the suite, I knew why. I reached behind me, and pulled Roscoe out of the back of my pants - it was an instinctive reaction to the sight in front of me.


    This ce had been torn apart. It looked like it had been hit by a tornado, or ripped apart by a deathw or something. There wasn''t a single piece of furniture that was undamaged or on its side. Pictures were hanging off the walls... hell, even the <em>bed</em> was askew.


    Speaking of the bed, that''s when I noticed a pair of feet sticking out from behind it. I rushed over, and found the body of a blonde man in a grey suit and sunsses sprawled out on the floor. I set Roscoe on the ground, and knelt in close to get a good look at him. His face was covered in welts, and his sunsses were broken. It looked like he''d been beaten to death. I cast a nce down, and couldn''t help but notice that he had something clutched in his left hand -


    WHACK


    I saw stars. Something had hit me in the side of my head; it certainly stung, and everything was a bit of a blur, but whoever hit me hadn''t followed through with enough force to put me down.


    "You shouldn''t be here," echoed in my ears. "Murdering an innocent man - we''ll make you pay!"


    I clutched at the side of the bed to steady myself, and forced my vision to stop spinning long enough for me to look up at my assant: a man wearing a tuxedo, a White Gloves mask, and holding a dress cane above his head. And speaking of the cane, it came down, but my vision had cleared just enough for me to recognize which of the three images I was seeing was the real one - and I caught the cane mid swing.


    I didn''t hesitate. I just pushed off against the floor, still holding onto the cane to steady my approach, and mmed my fist into this guy''s face as hard as I could. He staggered backward, just as I heard a noise off to my right. By now, my vision had clearedpletely, so I could see <em>another </em>White Glove rushing at me with a cane.


    He tried to strike me with the cane, just like the other one, but I deflected the blow with my Pip Boy - and countered his attack with a boot to the chest. He practically flew across the room and mmed into the back wall with a dull thud.


    "Alright you fucks," I said as the two of them slowly got back on their feet. "You want some?" I reached behind me and slipped on my brass knuckles. "<strong>Get some</strong>."


    The two of them rushed me at the same time. But they weren''t fighters. They probably expected me to go down with the first hit. Honestly... it was a bit embarrassing. The whole thing was over quite quickly.


    Of course, <em>once</em> it was all over, I realized that I may have made a bit of an error. One of them wasying in a twisted heap, halfway out of the bathtub, and the other was slumped in the pile of wood that used to be the dresser. It didn''t really matter if they were unconscious or dead - either way, they wouldn''t be saying anything anytime soon, and that meant I wouldn''t be able to find out who sent them.


    I bent down to pick up Roscoe, checked the safety, put it back in its hiding spot, and cast one more nce at the dead investigator. And then I remembered: he was holding something, wasn''t he? I nced over my shoulder quickly (just in case anyone <em>else</em> tried to jump me), and pried his hand open. Turns out, he was holding a matchbook from <em>The Gourmand,</em> one of the restaurants here in the Ultra-Luxe. I turned it around in my hands, and eventually flipped it open to reveal a handwritten note on the inside:


    <em>Steam Room, 4pm</em>.


    I pocketed the matchbook, and checked at the clock on my Pip Boy.


    3:50 pm.


    In a sh, I was out the door and running down the hall.


    There was a massive indoor pool at the back end of the Ultra-Luxe. Like the conservatory, the ceiling was made of ss, but despite that it looked like it was held aloft by dozens of thick stone pirs. All around were dozens of deck chairs, and blue tiles lining every surface. The pungent, stinging smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air. If any ce in this casino was going to have a steam room, it was going to be here.


    I kept close to the wall, trying to stay out of anyone''s way, and doing my best to stay (rtively) out of sight. It was surprisingly empty for a Sunday afternoon, but there were still a few people scattered around, lounging on the chairs or swimming in the pool. I checked my Pip Boy again. 4:01 pm. I needed to find this ce fast...


    I saw a door tucked in a corner out of the corner of my eye, and almost walked past it - but then I noticed the sign: OUT OF ORDER. I had a feeling I knew what was behind the sign, and checked. Sure enough, the door read "Steam Room." I checked over both my shoulders, and quickly walked inside, shutting the door behind me. Standing near the center of the circr room (which was, thankfully, devoid of steam) was a surprised looking ck man in a tux. It was the same kind of outfit that most of the White Gloves wore, but unlike most of them, this man wasn''t wearing a mask. Next to him was a small, waist-high box made out of stone, about three-feet across in every direction - the thing that made the steam, when it was working.


    "Who are you?" he asked, utterly bewildered.


    "I''m looking for someone who went missing," I said. This just seemed to confuse him further.


    "So was the man I''m supposed to be meeting here. Where is he?" As he spoke, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the matchbook, tossing it his way. He caught it.. Eventually. He fumbled with it a bit before finally grabbing it.


    "He''s dead," I said. "He was holding that in his hands, that''s how I knew toe here." As he heard the news, his eyes went wide and he gulped audibly.


    "Oh my goodness me! They must know he was talking to someone on the inside. They''ll be watching everyone closer now... I... I knew this was a mistake." He made a beeline for the door, but I reached out and grabbed hold of him, keeping him in ce.


    "Whoa, hold on there champ. Slow down. What''s your name?" He stayed put and didn''t struggle, but he looked very, very worried.


    "Uh... er... Chauncey. My name is Chauncey. I-I''m one of the White Gloves."


    "Yeah, I figured that out. I''m Sheason Fisher," I said. "Look, I might be able to help you. Who are you afraid of?"


    "Mortimer!" he said, fear still evident in his voice. "If he realizes it was me the investigator was nning to meet, he''ll have me killed!"


    "Wait, Mortimer? The concierge?" And suddenly, my unease around him made much more sense. "So, he''s behind the disappearances?"


    "Yes," Chauncey said, finally seeming to calm down. "The White Glove Society strictly forbids eating humans. But we weren''t always the White Glove Society. Before Mr. House gave us a new home, we were known as the Sawneys. When Marjorie took over, she changed all that. Changed our name, changed our... eating habits. Made us civilized. But Mortimer and some of the others have... regressed. Back to the old ways."


    "And now they''re eating people," I shook my head, trying to force the bile trying to worm its way up my throat back down. Chauncey nodded.


    "They''ve taken many people over thest few months... but it''s always been from secluded ces. Back alleys in Freeside. ces where people go missing every day - where they wouldn''t be missed. But it wasn''t enough. Lately they''ve gone for tourists right here on the Strip - even in the hotel!" Chaucey shook his head and sighed. "I guess that''s the hazard of a cannibal bing a gourmet - it''s harder to please a... <em>refined pte</em>."


    "Okay, first things first: this is going to <strong>stop</strong>. I''ll make sure that this ends today, you can bet on that."


    "I''m absolutely in agreement there," Chauncey nodded, looking a little relieved. "Why do you think I wanted to meet with Crusoe?"


    "d we''re in agreement. Alright, next: I''m looking for somebody. Ted Gunderson." I paused thinking. "Hell, the woman the investigator was looking for, too. If she''s still alive. Are they?" Chauncey''s expression fell.


    "I''m sorry to say, the woman is long gone. But the Gunderson boy is alive, as far as I know. They''re trying to keep him... fresh. Mortimer has special ns for him."


    "Special?" The pit of my stomach fell out. "That sounds ominous. What''s he nning?"


    "The White Glove Society has a banquet every night at 7. It''s in the private, members only part of the casino. Mortimer wants to reintroduce humans into our cuisine. Since eating people is a crime we now punish by death, he''s going to try and do it in secret."


    "Secret?" I asked, confused. "How would he do it in secret? I mean... I would imagine human flesh has a very distinct... vor." Again, I had to force the bile back down. I''d been witness to some pretty disgusting shit in my day, and plenty of horrific acts of barbarism besides, but for some reason the thought of a person eating another... <em>person</em>... just... ugh.


    "It really isn''t all that much different from veal, to be honest," Chauncey grimaced, letting on that he obviously knew what it tasted like. "It''s slightly tougher than veal, but not quite beef, depending on how you cook it. Though, I''ve heard some describe it like the sweeter meats one would find in pork." He cleared his throat. "After everyone has eaten it, that''s when he''ll tell them. With no real way to punish everyone - in Mortimer''s mind, anyway - their minds will be open to the idea of eating people as a delicacy."


    "But Marjorie made eating people a crime punishable by death. You said so yourself." I said. "Wouldn''t they just... I dunno, <em>kill</em> him, for setting the whole thing up?" Chauncey shrugged.


    "They might. But to him, the legacy of returning to the Old Ways is worth even his own life. I don''t think he expects it, though," Chauncey''s voice went real low. "I don''t, either."


    "What do you mean, you don''t?" That sinking feeling in my gut returned.


    "Nothing is more important to the Society than to be on the cutting edge of New Vegas cuisine. Mortimer''s idea will appeal to that need. He just has to get them over the taboo."


    "But if we save Ted before they eat him," my mind was racing, trying to find a solution to all of this. "Then Mortimer''s got nothing to go on, right? Do you know where he''s being kept?"


    "I don''t know exactly," he said, shaking his head. "I wasn''t in on it. I''m pretty sure some of them have stopped trusting me."


    "You must have some idea, right?" I asked, racking my brain. This ce was toorge, too rife with potential hiding ces, and I know I didn''t have time to search the whole casino.


    "They''re probably keeping him near the Gourmand. Our head chef, Philippe, has an obsession with fresh ingredients. The entrance to the kitchens is back in the members only section, so you''ll have to be careful. Don''t be seen, and more importantly, don''t let them see Ted in the open. It''s guarded both at the lobby entrance and in the ess tunnels leading from the main restaurant."


    "Shouldn''t be a problem..." I muttered, checking behind me to make sure - yep. Still had at least one stealth boy on me. "So, how do I get in?"


    "I... could sponsor you as an honorary member. But I''m not sure it would work. To be honest, I''m not really sure who you <em>are</em>, and only those who have made a name for themselves on the Strip are even considered for honorary membership status - celebrities, phnthropists, and the like. Besides, I don''t think they even really <em>trust</em> me anymore... Other than that, you''d have to find some way to get inside quietly. It won''t be easy. And it''ll be harder still to get him out."


    "What about his father?" I said, continuing to rack my brain. "If he''s influential enough to get one of his men to carry a gun in the casino, maybe he could have enough pull to get his son out?" At that, Chauncey seemed to freeze, a look of worry on his face.


    "That may be true, but I wouldn''t rmend it. He''s built a reputation, and it isn''t for calmness and impartiality."


    "A reputation?" I asked. "What, like... The Courier?" I tried to hold back a smirk. "That kind of reputation?" Chauncey shrugged.


    "In a sense... although, I don''t think he''s nearly as dangerous as that Courier who''s been making so many waves across the Strip. At least, not <em>personally</em> dangerous. He may not be a fighter, but they call him ''Hurricane Heck'' for a reason. The man built an empire by hiring mercenaries to drive off all hispetition. Lately, he''s been attacking our Brahmin suppliers so he can take over their business. That''s why he''s here in the Ultra-Luxe. He wants to fill a void that he himself created with violence! He''s the sort to pound in a nail with a wrecking ball. If you gave him the whole story on this, he''d be liable to raze the entire hotel! And God only knows what he''d do to the rest of the Strip!"


    "That <strong>won''t</strong> happen." I said as forcefully as I could muster. "I wouldn''t allow it." Chauncey looked confused, to be sure, but he didn''t really need to know the particrs. "But that''s still a fair point. Any other suggestions on how to get Ted out?" He started stroking his chin.


    "Hmm. Well, they''ll all be sampling a selection of red wines before the meal. Maybe it would be as simple as drugging them?" He shrugged, and then paused. "But... that wouldn''t stop any future kidnappings. You''d have to expose Mortimer. But if he''s going to confess anyway..." Chauncey snapped his fingers. "Wait! What if... what if his revtion were a lie? What if no one had eaten human flesh but him? If you could somehow rece Philippe in the kitchen and serve a convincing substitute instead, then you could walk Ted right through the middle of that room after Mortimer speaks! And then he''d have some serious exining to do!"


    "Preferably with a rope around his neck." I said with a smirk. This was starting to be a decent n... at least, as far as <em>my </em>ns went, at any rate. "Alright, I''ll give it a shot. It''s the best we''ve got, anyway."


    "Philippe has been trying to approximate the taste of human flesh for years. I''m sure he has a recipe somewhere and - wait." Chauncey paused, holding up a finger. "Do you hear something?"


    I didn''t get the chance to answer. There was a crash, and the door behind me burst open. I didn''t think - I just dove for cover behind the brick podium. There were two muffled bangs, followed by a heavy thud; Chauncey fell to the ground next to me, a gunshot wound in his neck gushing blood. I grabbed Roscoe, flicked off the safety, and aimed around the brick pedestal.


    The man standing in the doorway wasn''t a member of the White Gloves, like the other''s who''de after me. He was quite clearly a gun for hire, covered in ammo, wearing an outfit that wasn''t quite armor, and carrying a silenced .22 pistol in his hand. I slipped into VATS and fired. There was a sh of sparks, and the .22 flew out of his hands.


    "Augh! Son of a -" the assassin was cut off mid sentence, as a bullet hole appeared in the middle of his forehead. He fell back with a thud.


    The steam room fell silent. I shoved Roscoe back into its hiding space behind me, and rushed to the dead assassin as quick as I could. There may not have been many people at the pool, but there were enough - and the noise was bound to draw unwanted attention. I grabbed the freshly dead man by the cor, picked him up, and threw him as far as I could into the steam room. I pushed the button in the door handle to lock it, and shut the door as I left - making sure the sign clearly disyed "out of order."


    I walked away, reaching into my duster for the packet of smokes and my lighter. The dinner was at seven, and I''d need to get there in plenty of time, but if I ran right now, I''d just draw unwanted attention to myself. By the time the cigarette was in my mouth, however, I saw a man start to approach me. It looked like he''d juste out of the pool, as he was dripping wet with a towel draped around his neck.


    "Excuse me," he said, cautiously. It was obvious he saw thebat armor I was wearing - how could you miss it? - and he looked more than a little worried. "A few of us heard some strange noisesing from over here - one of us thought they were gunshots! Is everyone alright?"


    "Oh yeah, don''t worry about it," I lit the cigarette and snapped the lighter shut as I walked past him. "It''s just some of the maintenance guys. They needed to let off some steam."

 Chapter 93: Beyond the Beef

    Chapter 93: Beyond the Beef


    For as clean and neat and fashionable as the public areas of the Ultra-Luxe looked... I gotta say, the kitchens were apletely different story. I''d managed to sneak inside the members only area of the casino,pletely undetected thanks to the stealth boy, and the very moment I ventured underground, it was like I''d set foot inside an abattoir. It was dark, it was dank, it was dingy, and the smell of barbequed meat hung in the air like a thick veneer of... cooked... meat.


    Okay, bad analogy, but still - you get the point. This was not a nice ce to be, especially considering the whole "cannibalism" issue.


    Even worse than the general feeling of dread clinging to the back of my skull like a malignant tumor was the fact that it got much harder to maneuver the deeper I went into the kitchen. I hadn''t seen too many people - barring the White Gloves I''d seen roasting giant bs of brahmin beef with methrowers near the entrance - but it felt like the hallways were getting narrower the further along I ventured into this maze of underground brickwork.


    Of course, that was silly. Why would the hallways suddenly get <em>narrower</em>? I shook it off as simple paranoia, and focused on finding the head chef, Philippe. When I found him, I''d most likely find Ted, then I could get the fuck out of here.


    I turned a corner, and was suddenly no longer in a hallway, but an actual kitchen. It was... <em>slightly</em> less dingy than the rest of the downstairs, but I think that was just because everything seemed to be made out of stainless steel. In the center of the room, surrounded by food, cooking implements, burners, and a few sinks was who I could only assume was Philippe. Unlike the rest of the white gloves, the man with the shaved head wasn''t wearing a tux. Instead, he was wearing a button-up, short-sleeved white shirt that (judging from the stains) doubled as an apron.


    I had to get rid of him somehow... I wonder... maybe if I talked to him? I had an idea. It was stupid, but it might work, and if it didn''t, I could always go with n B: kill him, and stuff him in the fridge. I deactivated my stealth boy, and started walking over to him.


    "Excuse me," I said with a smile. "Are you Philippe, head chef of the Gourmand?" I asked calmly, leaning on the counter. He wasn''t calm when he spoke to me though.


    "What the fuck are you doing?" He practically yelled, meat cleaver in hand. "Why are you standing still? Do you think that the whole fucking world waits for you while you stand there drooling like an inbred lunatic? Put your uniform back on, get back out there and fucking get to work!" As if to punctuate his thought, he buried the meat cleaver into the cutting board.


    "Uh... I think you may have me confused with someone else." I said with a smile. His left eye twitched and he just snarled back at me.


    "Oh, really? So, despite your filthy fucking face and your vacant expression and yourpleteck of human fucking dignity, you''re telling me you''re <strong>NOT</strong> a server?"


    "Not in the slightest," I said, refusing to stop smiling. That just seemed to aggravate him further. "I''m here to talk some business. I heard you''re pretty handy with a cooktop and-" Before I could finish, he cut me off.


    "Pretty <em>handy</em>? Who the fuck do you think you''re talking to? I''m not ''pretty handy,'' I''m the fucking GOD of New Vegas brahmin fusion cuisine! No, no, that doesn''t even give me the credit I deserve. I fucking <strong>invented</strong> edible food! Do you like eating? Good! You owe me your entire goddamned garbage existence!"


    "Exactly," I said trying to keep my cool. "See, I''m from a publishing house, back in California. I''d heard about all the amazing things you''ve done with food here, and thought you might be interested in writing a cookbook."


    "What?" He shook his head, looking confused for half a second. "A cookbook? Me? The supreme rule of the Nevada dining scene? Teach lowlife half-wits to make food that doesn''t smell like burning excrement?" At first I thought he was insulted, but then: "Do you think it would sell?"


    "Absolutely!" I said. "It''ll be huge! Just one thing: as a sign of good faith, I''ll need some recipes to bring back to the suits in Sac-Town." Philippe stared at me for a few seconds, obviously weighing the options I was giving him in his head. I could practically hear the grinding metal from the gears turning. Eventually, he grunted, and turned away from me, walking to a cab above one of refrigerators.


    "You''re pushing your luck... but fine. Here. I have a few recipes that I have written down..." He pulled out a small notebook, that looked like it was held together with duct tape and bailing twine. "This fucking thing had better be good enough. We''re going to have a real problem if this thing isn''t a hit."


    "Thanks," I said, taking the notebook and flipping through the pages. "You know... I gotta ask - and, please, tell me if I''m overstepping my bounds here - but I couldn''t help but notice..."


    "What?" He yelled, leaning in at me over the counter. "Fucking spit it out man, I haven''t got all goddamn day!"


    "Well... I was just thinking that your predisposition towards anger suggests some... unresolved issues in your past..."


    "WHAT?!" He looked at me like I''d gone insane, spittle flying out of his mouth everywhere. "What kind of harebrained fucking psychobabble bullshit is that? I yell at people because I <em>like</em> yelling at people and because they fucking deserve it! Not because Mumsy and Daddy-kins didn''t fucking hug me enough!"


    "You may be projecting," I shrugged. "Why else would you bring up your folks so quickly? Why don''t you tell me more about your parents?" His eye twitched again.


    "Oh, I see how it is. You think because my father walked out on us when I was five, now I have to yell at people! Or because my mother was a deranged chem fiend who regrly brought strange men home who told me to call them ''uncle!'' Or because my sisters would lock me in a shipping crate when they didn''t want me around... and my brother..." Philippe paused, and his expression fell. All the color and expression drained from his face, and his voice went soft. "God, I''d forgotten about that. How could they do that to me?"


    "You alright?" I asked. He didn''t say anything at first. His eyes just darted back and forth, and he ran his hands along the top of his head, clutching at his shaved scalp.


    "I... I can''t stay here. I need to be alone."


    "Really?" I said with fake concern. "But what about the banquet?"


    "Forget about the fucking banquet!" He started to walk away, unbuttoning his apron-shirt. "You know what? You already have my recipes. You do it." He tossed the apron my way. "You be the fucking star chef! It won''t fill the hole, though. Just remember that. You''ll always feel empty..." Without another word, Philippe ran out of the room, sobbing hysterically. I just stood there,ughing quietly to myself.


    "Wow," I started flipping through the notebook again. "I guess those psychology books Arcade let me borrow weren''tpletely full of shit after all!" In the middle of the book, I finally found what I was looking for: "Aha! Here we go... ''Imitation Strange Meat pie: for when you want to cook human flesh, but don''t have the stomach for it. Or the spleen''." I thought about that title for a minute. "Is that a cannibalism joke? It is, isn''t it..."


    I clutched my head and groaned.


    The dinner was surprisingly easy to make, even in the quantity I needed for the banquet. It was about 20 dishes in total that I needed, and once they were done I just had to make sure the food went into the oven to stay warm. The instructions were so easy to follow that I''d managed to make enough food for everyone with time to spare.


    The best part? Nobody even came down to check on the progress of the food, which meant that nobody from the White Gloves caught me in the act. I had the sneaking suspicion that Philippe was given a wide berth by almost everyone here. And that gave me plenty of time to make myself scarce and look for Ted.


    "Hmm..." I stopped in front of one of the freezers. "I wonder... why would a walk-in freezer have a deadbolt lock on the door?" I asked aloud. I pulled Roscoe out from behind me, and aimed it at the door. "Guess I''ll have to find out." The lock practically exploded in a shower of sparks, and I kicked in the door. Sure enough, sitting on the floor and curled into a little ball at the end of the (surprisingly warm) freezer was a battered and bruised teenager, wearing a torn button up shirt, and a white Stetson on his head. When I kicked in the door, he looked up - and snarled at me.


    "My daddy''s gonna kill all you bastards once he finds out what you done to me!" I rolled my eyes and sighed.


    "Calm down," I put the safety on, and shoved Roscoe back in its hiding ce. "I''m not one of the people who kidnapped you. I''m here to get you out."


    "My daddy sent you?" He got back on his feet, and I got a really good look at the massive shiner around his left eye. "Goddamn it! I almost died in here! What the hell took you so long? It''s just one damn hotel!"


    "It''s certainly nice to be appreciated," I coughed out with a phony smile.


    "Who did this to me, anyway?" Ted asked. "They hit me over the head before I got a look at ''em."


    "Look, there''s no time to exin," I said, grabbing him by the shoulder and leading him out of the freezer. "We have to go now. Stick close to me, stay low, and keep your mouth shut."


    "Alright, fine," Ted muttered. "I''m right behind you."


    By the time Ted and I managed to sneak out of the kitchens and into the members only section, the meal was already well underway. We were thankfully out of sight, staying low enough to the ground to be almost fully hidden by the bar separating the members only area from the kitchens. I peeked over the counter just as Mortimer began to speak. He was standing with his back to us at a podium overlooking the massive table in the center of the room.


    "Ladies and gentlemen of the Society - wee," Mortimer''s deep voice boomed and echoed around the room. "I know that I am not the scheduled speaker for tonight''s dinner, but I have a few words, if I may."


    "Is that th-" Ted started to speak, but I grabbed his head and shoved my free hand over his mouth before he got too loud.


    "Remember what I said about <em>quiet</em>?" I hissed, whispering close to him. "Wait until he''s finished..."


    "There was a time, not so long ago, when we were bound together not as members of a Society," Mortimer continued. "But as a family. As a <em>n</em>. When Mr. House came to us with his proposal, we epted, knowing that we stood to gain much. Little did we known how much we would lose in the process. As a Society, we have endeavored to sample the finest food and drink the world still has left to offer. But we are living a lie. There is a meat sweeter than the most corn fed livestock. Most of you have tasted it. All of you have coveted it. Among us, it is a crime to discuss a return to the old ways that unified our people. Tonight, however, that all changes. The taboo ends - let me finish, Marjorie!" He spoke those words quickly, even before I heard Marjorie start to speak. "You don''t know it yet, but you are all now guilty of a greater crime. One that ordinarily bears the harshest of punishments. Surely that you are all guilty warrants not only universal amnesty, but also a renewed discussion! For our society to be truly elite, we must dine on the most delicious, the most exclusive food known to us. And tonight, for the first time since we abandoned our title of Sawneys and picked up the mantle of the White Glove Society, you are <em>all</em> sampling that very dish, the meat that we are forbidden to taste! The way it was meant to be eaten!" Mortimer gripped the edges of his podium, and bowed. "Fellow members of the White Glove Society... <em>bon apptit</em>."


    Okay, this was too good a moment. I stood up, stepped out from behind the bar, and started slowly pping as I walked over to Mortimer. The various members of the White Glove Society gathered around the table rumbled and murmured as I approached, and Mortimer turned with an expression of disbelief on his face.


    "What the devil? YOU!" Mortimer looked stunned, and a little bit frightened. "But you''re supposed to be -"


    "Dead?" I asked, cutting him off, and making sure to speak the next bit loud enough for everyone to hear. "Sorry to disappoint, Mortimer, but nobody is eating the boy you kidnapped tonight!" By this point, Ted had got the message and had walked up right behind me; the murmuring amongst the crowd got a bit more heated.


    "What are you... <em>Why is he there?</em>" He was starting to visibly sweat now. "Who are we <em>eating</em> right now?!"


    "Good, isn''t it?" I said, failing to hold back a smile. "Secret recipe!" I turned to the crowd below. "It most certainly isn''t human, though. I can promise you that! I''m sure all of you find that <em>terribly</em> interesting!" I turned back to Mortimer with a smile. "Wouldn''t you agree?"


    "No!" He gripped the podium desperately, trying tough it off. "These are lies! Lies, I tell you! I never kidnapped anyone! A-and even if I did, well... there... there''s no harm done! He''s alive, after all!" The look on Marjorie''s face spoke <em>volumes</em>, especially when she snapped her fingers, and motioned for a few of the masked members standing at the back toe forward. I clicked my tongue several times, and shook my head.


    "Toote, cannibal. You''ve already said too much..." I couldn''t help but smile broadly at Mortimer. He looked at me, back at the table, back to me, and then scowled back at the collection of Society members below him.


    "You''re all hypocrites!" He bellowed, pointing at everyone; if he noticed the half-dozen Society guards starting to surround him, he didn''t show it. "How can you im to be connoisseurs, yet deny yourselves the greatest of all meats?" He rushed past me, still feverishly pointing in Marjorie''s direction. "I am ashamed to have once called everyone here family! This isn''t over! I''ll begin anew! The White Glove Society will never achieve the greatness of my new order! You''ll all hear from me again!" And with that, he made a break for the door.


    "No," I said, pulling out Roscoe. "No, I don''t think we will." All it took was a single bullet to the back of the knee as he tried to run away. In an instant, he copsed to the ground, and was surrounded by guards.


    "Nice shot," Ted said, watching as the six guards standing over Mortimer''s crumpled form started to beat the shit out of him.


    "Thanks," I said with a nod, holstering Roscoe. No sense trying to hide the gun any more. Given what I''d just done (and my reputation as the Courier), I don''t think Marjorie would give me shit for it. And speaking of her, that''s about when she made her way over to us.


    "Oh my," She shook her head, rubbing her temple. "What an unfortunate turn of events for this evening - and in front of all these people, too!" The slight smile at the edge of her mouth and her tone of voice betrayed how she really felt. "He always was a bit of a pill, Mortimer. He was just so <em>pouty</em> when I decided to ban eating people. And now this. I suppose I should have paid more attention to the warning signs... Can you imagine what people would''ve said? Why, it would''ve been aplete scandal if you hadn''t arrived!" Marjorie sighed, and turned to Ted, cing a hand on his shoulder and smiling. "I do so apologize for the inconvenience. You have my word that the White Glove Society will do everything we can to make it up to you and your father."


    "Speaking of your old man," I said, patting Ted on the back. "C''mon. Let''s get you back to Heck. Marjorie, I''ll be back in a bit. We still have some business to discuss, but first things first." She nodded as Ted and I walked away, and Marjorie smiled and waved at the two of us.


    "Ta-ta."


    "Oh my god! Ted!" Heck got up from his seat at the bar, clutching at his chest as soon as Ted came into view. He ran over to his son, and hugged him tightly. "Are you alright?" Ted just rolled his eyes, and shoved him away after a few seconds of obviously awkward embracing.


    "Quit yer hollerin''," Ted adjusted his Stetson. "I''m fine." Heck just smiled, and patted his son on the shoulder as he turned to me.


    "You got me my boy back! I got no words!" He did seem genuinely choked up.


    "Hey, don''t worry about it," I said waving it off. Heck nodded... and then his expression visibly darkened.


    "Now... I hope you didn''t do no harm to whoever''s responsible for this. I wanna skin their hides myself..." I shrugged.


    "Sorry to disappoint, but he''s probably already dead by now. It was Mortimer, and the rest of the White Gloves already dealt with him." I said simply.


    "He was a cannibal," Ted offered up. "He wanted to eat me. Something about old ways or something. This guy here kneecapped him before he had the chance to run away." Heck narrowed his eyes at me, and his whole face screwed up in a frown.


    "Well, that does it! None of them maniacs''ll <strong>EVER</strong> do business with Heck Gunderson long as they live! Hell, I''ll put me together a damn blockade! Hit ''em where it hurts! They control the food? Well, there ain''t gonna <strong>be</strong> no goddamn food! Not for anybody in this whole damn town!" I kept my cool as he ranted, and just tried to stare him down. "It''s a goddamned monument to inhumanity! Let ''em starve! Biggest favor anyone''s ever done this hellhole!"


    "Really? Think about what you''re suggesting, <em>Hurricane Heck</em>," He seemed surprised that I knew that name, and I continued. "Trying to starve The Strip? That''s just want Mortimer would want. With the food supply cut off, people would be driven to cannibalism just to <em>survive</em>. <strong>You</strong> would be the one driving the city to eat each other. You really want to be responsible for that?"


    "I don''t care!" He shouted at me. "They''ve got to pay for what they tried to do to my boy! People''ve gotta learn not to cross Heck Gunderson!"


    "The one who crossed you, Mortimer? He''s already been dealt with. And besides... should I remind you who <em>you''re</em> dealing with?" I crossed my arms over my chest, and made myself look as menacing as possible. "You take action against The Strip, and you have to deal with <strong>me</strong>. It won''t matter how many mercenaries you hire. There will be <strong>nothing</strong> left when I''m finished with you."


    A brief sh of fear crossed his eyes, but evaporated quickly. He shook his head and snarled.


    "I don''t like this ce. Whole Strip, really! Ever since I got here, the stink of it... it''s flooded my nostrils! But you got a point. They''re already hell-bent on depravity here. All I''d be doing is helping them along. C''mon, Ted. Let''s go back home." Ted, his father, and the mercenary turned and walked away. When they disappeared around the corner, well out of earshot, I lifted up my Pip Boy arm and scrolled through the radio functions.


    "Yes Man, you reading me?" I said into the wristputer. It crackled to life with a burst of static.


    "Hi!" Yes Man''s enthusiastic voice burbled out of the Pip Boy''s speaker. "What can I do for you today?"


    "In a few minutes, an old man in a ck cowboy hat, and a teenager in a white cowboy hat, are going to walk out of the Ultra-Luxe, probably followed by a couple of hired guns. The old man''s name is Heck Gunderson. I want you to scan their faces so their images are on file, and then I want you to send a couple of securitrons to make sure they leave The Strip as soon as possible. Think you can do that?"


    "Absolutely, sir! I''ll get right on that!"


    "Oh, and one other thing," I continued. "If they ever try ande back to Vegas once they leave, shoot them on sight. Nobody is going to threaten Vegas while I''m around. <strong>Nobody.</strong>"


    "Understood!" Yes Man agreed cheerfully. "And can I just say sir - this secure channel April and Emily set up was a great idea! Now we can n the future of New Vegas without you ever needing to bothering back to the Lucky 38! It will save you so much time, and I''m not just saying that because I have to!"


    "Right..." I sighed, and was just about to sever the connection when Yes Man spoke up again.


    "Oh, I wanted to ask, before I forget - that is, if you''re not too busy - how are things going with the White Gloves?"


    "How are they going?" I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Well, I still have a few details left to hammer out with Marjorie, but... I mean, there was a bit of a cannibalism problem. But I think I got everything sorted."


    "A cannibalism problem? Wow!" For some reason, that ''wow'' was the most unconvincingly enthusiastic thing Yes Man had ever said. "I''m just so d you weren''t eaten!"


    It was well after dark when I finally got back to the Lucky 38, close to an hour and halfter. Marjorie and I met in the Gourmand after the Gunderson''s had left, to discuss her support for my ns of an independent Vegas. Even after everything I''d done tonight, I thought it was an excellent meal.


    Of course, I admit, I had the <em>vegetarian</em> option. Just in case. I''d rather be paranoid than a cannibal. Even an idental one.


    With this agreement I''d managed to broker between myself and the White Gloves, that made three-for-three when it came to the Vegas Families I had to get on side. So, as you can imagine, I was feeling pretty good about myself when I stepped out of the elevator and back into the Lucky 38''s suite.


    I should''ve known it wouldn''tst long.


    "Oh, thank God!" Emily''s voice was surprising - both because of her extremely relieved tone, and the fact that it came from <em>my</em> room. "I thought she might have found you first!"


    "Emily?" I looked down at the red-headed scientist curiously. "The fuck? What are you doing in my room?" She rushed up to me as quick as she could, trying as hard as she could to push against me; it was like she wanted me to get back in the elevator. Of course, in hindsight, that''s <em>exactly</em> what she wanted me to do.


    "I''ve been looking for you everywhere! You''ve got to get out of here!" She practically pleaded, looking up at me.


    "What are you-"


    "There''s no time!" She gave onest attempt at a shove, but it felt more like a stiff breeze trying to knock me over than someone shoving all their weight against me. "She''s gone crazy! I think she''s going to try and kill you!"


    "...she?"


    CRASH!


    "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"


    I instinctively reached for Roscoe and turned at the sound of splintering wood - but hesitated when I heard the voice. A female voice. A very familiar female voice.


    "<em>Veronica</em>?" I couldn''t help but stand there, dumbstruck. Veronica was standing at the threshold of her room, Oh, Baby! held in her right hand, armored in a power fist as well. Her left arm was extended in a fist that ended at the door... which was lying in two splintered, shattered pieces, hanging off the hinges by a thread.


    What made it even more frightening? The door had been broken by the hand <em>not</em> wearing her power fist.


    Her face was contorted into an expression of pure, unfiltered <em>rage</em>. I''d seen that kind of expression before, but never on <em>Veronica </em>- not even when we were fighting super mutants or Fiends or even Legion. The look on her face was that of someone out for blood. Someone whose every ounce and fiber of their being was set squarely on getting some killing done.


    And she wasing straight for <em>me.</em>

 Chapter 94: Karma

    Chapter 94: Karma


    "Uh V?" Veronica was advancing on me, Oh, Baby! held in hand and a look of absolute murder in her face. I started backing up as quickly as I could. "What''s going on?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emily duck back into my room and out of sight... and out of Veronica''s way.


    "I trusted you..." V growled through gritted teeth. "I can''t believe I ever <em>trusted</em> you, you lying sack of shit!"


    "What are you-" I backed into the wall, and was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of bowel clenching terror. Veronica rushed forward, murder in her eyes, and her super sledge raised high over her head.


    I didn''t have time to think, I just reacted. I ducked down as low as I could, kicked off the back wall, and just barely managed to roll out of the way just in time. The sound the super sledge made when it hit the wall was massive; it sounded more like a bomb going off than a hammer hitting a wall. Large chunks of ster rained down on me like lumps of hail.


    I pushed off the ground to get back upright and hopped back several feet, to try and put some distance between myself and Veronica. She pulled Oh, Baby! out of the wall, and the hole it left behind was absolutely <em>massive</em>. Hell, it was still crumbling slightly. Several of the now broken wires on the inside were shooting sparks in every direction.


    "Whoa!" I yelled, holding my hands up both as an attempt at a disarming gesture, and to get in a defensive stance as quickly as possible. "V! What the fuck is going on?!" A cloud of dust from the crumbling wall billowed all around her, and she dragged the super sledge against the ground as she advanced on me again, threatening to rip up the carpet.


    "When were you going to tell me?" She snarled. I kept backing up. "Were you just waiting until I was well and truly <em>broken</em>, you son of a bitch?"


    "... tell you?" My blood ran cold. I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I didn''t have time to focus. The super sledge wasing at me again. I leapt backward, the massive hammer missing my chest by inches.


    "CASS!" She bellowed as she swung again, this time bringing it down like she was chopping firewood. The hammer hit the floor near my feet, shaking everything - including my teeth. "You <strong>fucked</strong> Cass! Behind my back!" She brought the hammer up and around, swinging it down diagonally, aiming for my corbone. "She was the one good thing I had left, and you just couldn''t let me have that, could you?! You just <strong>had</strong> to take her away from me!"


    I never thought about it before, but that hammer must be <em>really</em> heavy with how much she was forced to telegraph her blows. Because of that, I managed to dodge the swing with barely inches to spare - and rushed forward to try and grab the hammer. I had to get that hammer out of her grip. If she hit me with that damn thing just <em>once</em>, it would turn me to <em>paste.</em>


    "V, calm down!" I yelled, doing my best to hold onto the hammer. "I can exin, just -"


    And then she head-butted me.


    "EXPLAIN?!" I heard her bellow, even over the ringing in my ears from the heavy blow to my skull. "Fuck you! You can''t exin this away!" Before I got a chance to open my eyes to check if I could even <em>see</em> straight, I felt my feet leave the ground. "I saw everything! Every video in House''s files of you two! Don''t even try and deny it, you piece of shit!"


    I couldn''t keep hold of the super sledge, and suddenly found myself sailing through the air at a great speed... right up to the moment when my back smashed into the wall. I''m sure that if it wasn''t for the armor I was wearing - and the fact that I''d been catapulted almost directly into the hole she''d made earlier - that my spine would''ve shattered.


    Of course, when I opened my eyes, the situation was stillpletely awful. I had a split second view of Veronica before she tackled me <em>through</em> the wall. The already weakened partition was scattered like leaves in the wind, and the two of us went careening through a hail of rubble, ster, wood, and sparks. Pieces of shrapnel tore at me, and I felt the sting as a few pieces of shrapnel sliced at my face.


    We crashed into the dining room, and then somersaulted into the table. In the confusion of so many moving parts flying through the air, I''d managed to bring one of my feet up under her, and I kicked against her abdomen as hard as I could. It wasn''t much, but it bought me a little time. Enough to roll away, get back on my feet, and attempt to put some distance between us.


    "Veronica!" I yelled over the sounds of the crumbling wall. She shook her head, kneeling amidst a pile of rubble and surrounded by a haze of dust. "It''s not a denial! Just let me -"


    "No!" She yelled, getting back on her feet. I looked around, trying to find something I could use as a weapon. I had plenty of guns and explosives <em>on me</em>, but I needed something that wouldn''t be <em>lethal.</em> "You just couldn''t let me have that one speck of happiness, could you? <strong>Could you!?</strong>" She raised her hammer again, readying to strike. "You took her away from me, just like how you took Elijah from me! And -"


    She brought her hammer down, but it was stopped mid-swing - and mid-sentence - by the chair I''d picked up. I''d grabbed the back of it while she''d been talking, and shoved the chair legs up against the hammer''s grip, right near her hands, keeping her from moving it any closer to me.


    "Don''t you try and me me for Elijah!" I yelled, pushing up against her with all my might; it wasn''t really doing much, but I had to try. "He was a genocidal madman! I had to stop him before it was toote!"


    "I don''t believe you!" She yelled back, clearly winning in this game of rock vs. hard ce. I had to change tactics.


    "Helios One!" I yelled back. I shifted my stance, and used her own strength (and the leverage offered by the chair) to wrench the hammer out of her hands. "He knew about the ARCHIMEDES weapon!" Before she could respond, I brought the chair back around, bashing it into the side of her head. "And the Red Cloud in the Madre! That''s why he was there! He wanted to <strong>weaponize</strong> it!" I swung the chair again, trying to keep the pressure on before she could attack again, and ended up smashing it to pieces over her head. "He wanted to kill EVERYONE in the wastnd! Starting with the <strong>Brotherhood</strong>!"


    I was going to try and hit her again with what was left of the chair, but she rallied enough to punch me straight in the middle of my chest with her power fist. Because of the Gun Runner armor, it knocked the wind out of me (to say the least) and I didn''t know which way was up. All I <em>did</em> know was that I was flying through the air, yet again, and that when I hit the back wall, I definitely heard something crack. I''m not entirely certain if it was the armor, the wall I''d hit, or one of my ribs.


    "Oh, that''s rich," Veronica''s power fist let out of a burst of steam, and she kicked a few pieces of splintered and broken chair out of her way. "Elijah wanting to kill the Brotherhood... like the way <em>you</em> killed those <em>Pdins</em>?" Her power fist reset with a heavy clunk.


    "It was either that, or it was let Cutter''s team kill <strong>us</strong>!" I braced myself against the back wall, slipping silently into VATS to help aid my reflexes. "And remind me - who beat Cutter to death in a burning building again? Oh, <strong>THAT''S </strong>right..."


    "But you <em>knew</em>!" She yelled, readying her fists. "You knew that if I left the Brotherhood, they''de after me! <em>That''s</em> why you convinced me to leave, isn''t it? The perfect excuse for <strong>ughter! </strong>Just one more thing you could take away from me!" In a sh, she was leaping through the air, fist ready for the punching.


    "V, listen to yourself!" I sidestepped her blow - thanks almost entirely to the focus of VATS - and deflected her arm so she ended up punching the back wall instead of me. The wall cracked and buckled at the strike. "This is crazy!" I grabbed at her hood, yanking it with all my strength, and pulling it over her eyes. I could have tried attacking her while she was distracted by the tangled mess of bup obscuring her vision, but instead I just backed away as she fumbled.


    "Crazy?" She muttered, grunting as she grabbed at the hood. "Like <em>Elijah</em>? Is that how you justified it?" As I kept backing up, I realized she wasn''t just removing the hood - she was ripping her whole robe off. "Or was it just something <em>fun</em> that you knew would break me? Something else to do to me once the thrill of fucking Cass wore off?!"


    Veronica tossed aside her robe, and for the first time I got a good look at the armor she wore underneath it. It was a mixture of metal tes, wires snaking around her limbs, and some kind of form-fitting bodysuit. It was obviously highly advanced - so advanced, that I couldn''t figure out how it was actually powered. I didn''t see any pistons or hydraulics. And that''s when I realized: the ''bodysuit'' under the metal tes was actually made of hundreds of cables, creating a sort of high-tech muscture that moved when she moved, the same way you''d expect muscles to.


    It suddenly made a lot of sense why she kept it covered underneath the robe all the time, now I was looking at it. In any other situation, her getup would''ve been highly distracting for everyone involved, and more than that... it was <em>very</em> conspicuous. Especially the threerge, extremely visible Brotherhood sigils painted on the metal bits of her armor.


    "Veronica..." I said, trying not to gulp audibly. "You''re my friend! We can talk about this! I don''t want to fight you..."


    I was stalling  obviously  but that''s because I was weighing my options in my head. Veronica is one of the deadliest people that I''ve ever met in hand-to-handbat, sure, but I had enough weapons on me to level the Strip if I wanted to. Granted, the grenades probably would be a bad idea in such close quarters, but if it really was going toe down to a simple choice of me or her... then I was going to chose <em>me</em>. I''d gone through too much to get killed now... But at the same time, I still didn''t want to fight her. I didn''t want to be forced to kill her just to save my own skin. I really didn''t want to have to make that choice.


    "Too fucking bad!" She yelled back. I just sighed.


    "Suit yourself."


    Veronica started running  but not toward me. A quick nce showed me that she was heading directly for the discarded Oh, Baby!ying on the ground. I started running at the same time. She may have been faster, but I was a lot closer  and, more important, it wasn''t the super sledge I was aiming for. By the time she dove for the weapon on the ground, I''d reached my target: the fridge it wasying next to. I grabbed at the back edge, and pulled out and down with all my might, ripping it away from the wall and bringing it hurtling down on top of Veronica with a thundering crash.


    I kept hold of the top of the fridge and mmed it down against her with all my might, again and again, to try and ensure that she stayed down. But it didn''t work. I was midway through my assault with the damn thing when the fridge pushed <em>back</em>, knocking mepletely off bnce. It was so surprising, that it sent my ass sailing to the ground. The next thing I knew, the <em>fridge</em> was looming over me. Veronica had grabbed hold of <em>it</em>, rather than the super sledge, and was lifting the fucking thing over her head like a sack of potatoes.


    Okay, <em>that</em> n backfired.


    I didn''t have time to marvel or gawk at the absurdity, because she was making her intentions abundantly clear. So, I did the only thing I could think of  or, at least, the only thing I thought might buy me some time.


    I bolted. I pushed off against the ground with all my might and leapt toward the broken pieces of wood that used to be the dinner table. It wasn''t much, but the pile of kindling was the only kind of cover I had at the moment. I knew exactly when the fridge came down, even though I didn''t bother looking back as I leapt: the whole room heaved and shook like it had been hit with an earthquake... and then it just kept shaking.


    Eventually, I looked back over the table just in time to see Veronica standing on top of the fridge. The damn thing was buried halfway through the floor, sticking out at an angle. Veronica''s hair, which had been held in a bun at the start of the fight, was starting to unravel into a tangled mess around her face. All around us, I could hear groans and creaking floorboards. The floor was going to copse at any moment, I just knew it.


    Veronicaunched herself off the top of the fridge, leaping at me fist-first. I only half a split-second to act: I kicked thergest piece of table - an end piece with two legs still intact - up into the air between us, grabbed one of the legs, and rushed to meet her with my improvised shield. Her power fist hit the corner I wasn''t holding onto (thankfully), smashing it into splinters. The two of us spun in midair from the momentum of the impact, and because she refused to let up (and I refused to let go), we both lost our bnce, falling backwards onto the fridge.


    And that''s when the floor gave waypletely.


    It was like something out of one of my nightmares. The whole world seemed to copse with the floor as the two of us tumbled amidst a storm of rubble and noise.


    In the confusion, I kicked off against the table, and tried to roll out of the way of the iing hail of debris. All it did was put my head in the way of a chunk of falling floor... ceiling... whatever.


    I tried to shake away the double vision from the impact. The rubble was stilling down, pieces of ster and dust hanging in the air like the snow on top of Mount Charleston. Sparks rained down on the twisted and mangled fridge in front of me... and in that pile of rubble was Veronica.


    She knocked an absolutely massive chunk of ceiling off her, looking a little worse for wear - she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, and her long hair was almostpletely unraveled now - and kicked a piece of fridge door out of her way as she advanced. She had a clear shot at me.


    I slipped into VATS again, ducking under the swing just in time; her power fist hit the nearby cab, and sted it to pieces. The wood rained down on me, and grabbed the nearest thing I could find to use as a weapon: a broken te sitting on the counter. In a single move, I snatched it up as quick as I could, and chucked it with all my might at her face. The ceramic te broke against her unarmored head with a satisfying smash, breaking into shards that flew in every direction. More important than anything else, it was enough to stagger her backward, and give me a moment''s respite from the constant onught.


    So I kept going.


    I grabbed a nearby bowl - SMASH! I grabbed a drinking ss - SMASH! I grabbed another te - SMASH! The air was full of as much flying pieces of dinnerware as it was full of chunks of ceiling, and it was only at the end there that she managed to bring an arm up to try and block the strike. She was staggered backward, surely, but not out...


    Finally, I grabbed something that might actually finish the job: lying on the cook top and surrounded by splintered wood and ster was a cast iron skillet.


    I grabbed the heavy ck-iron pot by the handle, and swung it with all my might at -


    CLANG!


    The skillet was stopped mid-swing by Veronica catching it with her power fist. She snarled at me, bleeding from a second cut on her forehead, and tightened her grip around the edge of the pot. Her power fist let out a burst of steam, there was a horrible groaning noise, and the skillet started to <em>bend</em> back toward me underneath her grip.


    I was so horrified at the implication that I didn''t realize that she was taking that moment to punch me across the side of my face with a left hook until after it had already happened.


    I saw stars. I felt her grab the back of my head to push me down, and then felt a sharp pain in my gut - probably one of her armored knees hitting me armored midsection. I heard another crack and - yep. That one was almost certainly a broken rib. Oh yeah, that''s... fuck. That''s painful.


    She threw me through the air, and I felt my back smash into another wall, or a door, or... something. Turns out, it was a door, but I didn''t know that at the time. Whatever, point is, my insides were really feeling the strain of this constant pummeling, and I wasn''t going to get a reprieve. My vision cleared just as Veronica''s boot came straight at my chest.


    I went sailing through the air again, tumbling head-over-heels, and surrounded by the pieces of door I''d been kicked through. My face started scraping against the floor, and I eventually came to a stop, copsing face-down in a pile of splintered wood.


    "Uhhnngh..." I couldn''t manage any words. I tried to pick myself up, but I was too distracted by the ringing in my ear. And then, I found myself being lifted up into the air anyway... and as soon as I was clear of the broken pieces on the floor, I just kept going. Veronica had grabbed hold of me, and was lifting me upside down over her head.


    I had to think fast - not easy, when it feels like your brain is made of scrambled eggs. I looked down, forcing my head and vision to clear - there! Veronica''s hair! That was my opening! I summoned everyst ounce of strength I could muster, nted my feet as firmly as I could against the ceiling, grabbed hold of Veronica''s hair, and kicked off. The two of us went crashing onto the ground. Of course, since she''d gone down face-first, and I''d kept myself on top (forcing my elbow onto the back of her head as we went down), I''d say that she got the worst of it.


    I got up off her - slowly, but steadily - while shey there, facedown on the ground. I had to end this now. I wasn''t going to survive much more of this, I was sure of it. I reached into my duster and pulled the MP5 out of it''s sling under my arm, pulling back the charging handle. It echoed with a click in my still ringing ears. I was seeing red, and I honestly couldn''t tell: was this a psychological ''seeing red'' or was my vision getting cloudy from all the blood in my eyes?


    I didn''t have time to get an answer. Just as I leveled the MP5 to take my shot, a titanic griptched onto my ankle and yanked. I flew backward, the submachine gun discharging wildly into the ceiling before ttering away out of my grip. Inded on my back with a heavy thud and a sharp pain in the back of my head.


    The ringing in my ears just got worse. I was starting to see double - which meant that I saw <em>two</em> Veronica''s standing over me. I had to guess which one was the real one, and rolled out of the way as quick as I could. I must have picked the right one, because the floor shook from her power fist smashing into the ground instead of <em>me</em>.


    It took almost all of my strength not to simply keel over right then and there, but I wasn''t done yet. I forced my vision to clear as I grabbed one of the knives on my boot and pushed off against the floor with my free hand to get back on my feet. The two Veronica''s merged into one long enough for me to sidestep her next swing. The power fist passed so close to my face, I could feel the rush of disced wind - and then I grabbed her outstretched arm, locking her elbow under my armpit. Before she could yank herself free, I plunged the knife as hard as I could into the top of the power fist.


    The world spun when she yanked herself free, but the sounds I was hearing - belching steam, grinding metal, sparks flying - let me know that had done the trick.


    "Hmmph," Veronica snorted when I finally came to a stop, copsing against the back wall. She was standing a good four of five paces away from me, examining the power fist belching sparks and steam everywhere. She didn''t seem too bothered by the knife embedded in it; she just undid a pair oftches on the side and let the metal gauntlet fall to the floor with a heavy thud. Her hand looked fine.


    I barely had time to bring my hands up to defend myself before Veronica came at me again. I was really slowing down now, and my insides were so battered that I felt on the brink of projectile vomit. Veronica just wouldn''t let up. For every blow I managed to deflect or dodge through sheer dumb luck, another got through: a crack on the jaw, a jab to my side where the armor was weakest, another blow to the head...


    I threw onest punch, and she caught the fist mid-swing and held it there with a grip like a vice. As I tried to hit her with the one hand, I''d been reaching behind me with the other, and pulled That Gun from its holster. I tried to bring it to bear, but I was just moving way too slow. By the time I pulled the trigger, she''d already forced it to fire away from her and up into the ceiling.


    I struggled against her grip, but it was no good. She was way too strong, and I couldn''t break free. While That Gun was pointed away from her, she forced her thumb over my trigger finger, forcing it to fire away from her again and again, until finally... click. She wrenched the gun sideways out of my hand, cracking me along the side of the head with the barrel.


    The next thing I knew, Veronica had grabbed me by my cor and threw me to the ground. I managed to retain enough of my faculties on the way down to reach for Roscoe on my hip. I felt a pair of hands wrap tightly around my neck like a vice as I pulled Roscoe from his holster. Veronica was looking down at me through a tangled mess of twisted, matted, hair. Her bloody face was contorted in a look of pure hatred, tinged with red (or was that the blood in my eyes?), and she was so focused on squeezing the life out of me that she either didn''t notice - or didn''t care - that I''d pressed Roscoe''s barrel up under her chin and thumbed back the hammer.


    I couldn''t speak. I couldn''t breathe. I could barely see. All I could do was think, and all I could think, pressing the gun barrel up under her chin, my finger on the trigger, was <em>Please... Veronica, please... stop. Don''t make me pull the trigger. Don''t make me kill you...</em>


    There was a brilliant sh and a terrible bang.


    But it didn''te from Roscoe.


    My senses were worse than useless. What little sight I had left when Veronica tried to choke me had been taken away by the blinding sh, and my ears were filled with nothing but a terrible, awful high-pitched ringing. Somebody had popped a shbang, I was sure of it. With my sensespletely destroyed, it was the ONLY thing I was sure of.


    I was vaguely aware of Veronica''s hands leaving my throat... and then, someone grabbed Roscoe out of my hand and picked me up off the floor. A hand grabbed me, shoving me against a wall and holding me there. I managed to shake my head and blinked several times to try and work out the blindness and the deafness.


    When my sight finally returned, I found myself staring down the barrel of a very familiar shotgun pointed directly at my face.


    "Back with us?" The ringing in my ears started to subside enough that a voice managed to slip through. "Good. Now, what the <strong>FUCK</strong> is going on here?!"


    Both the voice and the shotgun pointed at my face belonged to Cass. She was holding me up against the wall, and now that I could see again, I realized she was kitted out in her Gun Runner armor - everything except the helmet.


    I didn''t say anything at first. At that point, I wasn''t sure I <em>could</em> respond. My windpipe still felt crushed from moments earlier. Cass looked back and forth between myself and Veronica. V was on the other side of the room, down on her knees with her hands behind her back... because Boone, Arcade, and Raul were all three holding her down. But only just barely. Even disoriented as I was, I could tell that the three of them were struggling to keep her held down. Like Cass, all three of them were all wearing their respectivebat gear.


    "Well?" Cass spoke up again. "Either of you gonna try and exin this fucking un-Godly mess?" As if to punctuate her thought, another piece of ceiling crumbled down loudly from the other room.


    "She... she started it..." I finally managed to cough out weakly.


    "<strong>IT DOESN''T MATTER WHO STARTED IT!</strong>" Cass bellowed, getting right in my face and showering me with spittle. I was suddenly reminded of myself, when I had to break up Veronica and Arcade''s fight when he found out about her Brotherhood connection.


    "When were you going to tell me?" Veronica spoke up, drawing Cass'' attention away from me. "Were you <em>ever</em> going to tell me that you cheated on me?" Veronica''s voice was loud, but it wavered and cracked slightly. Comprehension shed across Cass'' face, and she looked back and forth between the two of us before finally burying her face in her hand. As a consequence, she let me go... and I slumped against the wall and down onto the floor in an exhausted, bloody heap. I didn''t realize she''d been holding me up.


    "THAT''S what this is about? You two are fighting over <strong>me</strong>?! You <strong>FUCKING MORONS</strong>!"


    "But he -" I didn''t hear what Veronica was going to try and say, because Cass cut her off with more yelling worthy of a drill sergeant.


    "No, shut up! You don''t get any more of your crazy time, because you gotta get some fucking things straight! Yeah, Sheason and I banged, I admit. And I should''ve told you, sure. That was a shitty thing for the two of us to do to you, fair enough. But let''s ignore for a minute that it only happened the one time, and he and I were so smashed that neither of us knew which way was up. You wanna know the truth of it? <strong>I</strong> was the one who came onto <strong>him</strong>." The look of hatred on Veronica''s face evaporated into thin air instantly.


    "Y-you?" she asked weakly. "But..."


    "Yeah," Cass said, walking over to Veronica and standing tall over her. "Me. And you know what else? Every time I''ve tried since, <strong>he</strong> has been the one to stop us. Why do you think he convinced me to stop drinking? I''m fuckin'' horny when I get shitfaced! You know that! You want to me anyone, fucking me <strong>me</strong>. Does this mean you''re gonna try and kill me now?" Veronica didn''t say anything. She looked too stunned to speak. Boone, Arcade, and Raul all looked nervously at one another. Finding out these kinds of details was making them ufortable, and really? Who can me them.


    "Yeah, that''s what I fucking thought. And another thing. Since I guess we''re airing all our fuckin'' dirtyundry in public now, then you ought to know that I never agreed to be exclusive when we started this thing. <strong>You</strong> were the one who assumed that, and if you fucking knew <strong>ANYTHING</strong> about me <strong>AT ALL</strong>, then you would''ve known straight off that kinda shit isn''t gonna work with me!"


    "B-but..." Veronica staring, wide-eyed, at nothing. She didn''t seem capable of thought, much less speech.


    "And <strong>YOU</strong>," Cass turned and advanced on me. "What the fuck, man! This little adolescent piss-up of your has... I mean... fucking... LOOK!" She gestured to the still crumbling carnage all around us. "You were inches away from putting a bullet in her brain! Seriously - what the fuck!"


    "She ''as gonna..." I was having enormous trouble speaking. "Issat''r die..." Cass just shook her head.


    "And those were your only two options? Fight or die? What happened to the Sheason who could always find a way out, hmm? The man who could get out of the most sticky fucking situations by fucking using his fucking <strong>brain</strong> and finding a fucking way out? I mean, what was it you''ve said before? Pulling off the impossible is what you do? Where the fuck is <strong>THAT</strong> guy?" Cass sighed. "You know, I expected better. From <strong>both</strong> of you. You''re both acting like Goddamned children. So stop fighting, get yourselves cleaned up, and fucking <strong>GROW UP</strong>. I''m fucking sick of this."


    Veronica and I sat there on the floor across from each other, just... staring. She didn''t have murder in her eyes anymore. She wasn''t struggling against the three men holding her down. Instead, she looked... broken. Cass shook her head again.


    "The two of you are just... so... <em>disappointing</em>."


    Despite the many injuries wracking my body with agonizing pain, those words of hers stung the most.


    "So," Arcade said, pressing an antiseptic-soaked piece of gauze against my face; I winced involuntarily. "It seems Veronica wasn''t the only one keeping secrets."


    "Yeah, yeah, I know. I did the same thing I told you guys not to..." I winced again. "Go ahead,ugh it up."


    "Oh, it''s not aughing matter, I''m well aware of that." Arcade leaned me back, and swabbed a bruise on my chest with alcohol before sticking me with a Med-X syringe. He seemed to only be vaguely paying attention to the conversation.


    "You know why I didn''t tell her? Because I knew this kind of shit would happe- AGH!" For some reason, Arcade taking the syringe out hurt more than when he put it in.


    "Yes, she is a rather passionate girl, isn''t she." Arcade was looking down at his watch as he spoke. "Ruled by her emotions... doesn''t take being lied to at all well. But, I suppose, that''s one of the biggest problems with women. Too many wayward emotions. One of the many reasons I prefer thepany of men. You''re rather lucky."


    "How''s that?" I asked, confused by the abrupt shift in tone. Arcade didn''t respond at first. He took out a stimpack, and injected me in roughly the same ce as the Med-X.


    "Your rib only has a hairline fracture, it''s notpletely broken. If you hadn''t been wearing that armor, I fear it would have snappedpletely and punctured your lung." Arcade looked up at me over his sses. "Again. The stimpack should knit the bone shortly, so you don''t need to be rushed to surgery. The bruising is probably going to remain for a while, though."


    "Yeah, lucky me..." Arcade handed me an ice pack, and I held it against my forehead as he attended another one of my various wounds. "Alright, so... since this has proven the dangers of keeping secrets, you gonna tell me who you worked for before the Followers?" I pulled the cold pack away from my skull and looked at it; a red splotch was staining the cloth where it had been white before. I put it back against my head with a grimace.


    "Yes," Arcade said simply. "But not now. And not here. After seeing what Veronica did to you, I don''t think it''s a good idea to say it aloud with her even in the same <em>building</em>."


    "Wait, what?" I asked. Arcade looked back up at me and shrugged.


    "Truth be told," he grabbed another stimpack. "I still think you did the right thing, trying to hide that from her. Even now. I mean, I absolutely understand why you kept it from her. You wanted to spare her any heartbreak, and that''s very admirable. It''s just too bad that it was dumb luck she found out."


    I didn''t say anything. I couldn''t agree with him. Not now. I should have told her. Cass and I both should''ve told her, straight away. We should have acted like adults about the whole thing - all three of us - and talked to one another, try to work out everything that way. But instead, we kept secrets like a pack of four year olds and the whole thing blew up.


    "Why are you patching me up, anyway?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "Shouldn''t you be looking after Veronica?"


    "Boone is taking care of her," Arcade said. "Her injuries aren''t nearly as severe as yours. She only requires basic triage, so Boone can handle it."


    "Not as..." I blinked several times. "I didn''t think I was... am I really that bad?" Arcade paused in his work, looking at me like I''d gone insane.


    "Take a look for yourself." He reached onto his medical cart and pulled out a small mirror holding it in front of - HOLY SHIT!


    Okay... yeah... that''s a <strong>lot</strong> worse than I thought. I thought it was pretty bad, but... fuck.


    A little over an hourter, I was back on my feet. I was still sore as hell, but I was as mended as I was going to get. I''d put my armor back on after Arcade finished, and went to the floor below the suite to collect all my discarded weapons. I stepped out of the elevator, and immediately saw Veronica down here, obviously doing the same thing. We just looked at each other. Neither of us said anything... and then the two of us moved on.


    After I''d collected everything from the rubble of the destroyed rooms, I went straight to the garage. I was tired, I was sore, and I really didn''t want to talk to anyone. I was halfway to my car when a voice called out after me.


    "Sheason!" Cass yelled, her voice and footsteps echoing against the concrete of the Lucky 38''s underground car park. "The fuck do you think you''re going?"


    "Out," I said. It felt more like a grunt than a word.


    "Wh - you''re <em>leaving</em>?" Cass finally caught up to me, grabbing me by the shoulder and forcing me to turn and face her. "You''re not even gonna try and work this out - like what you tell all of US to do whenever WE all get into stupid arguments?"


    "I just..." I shifted ufortably, refusing to look at her. "I need some time to think. Time to be alone." I adjusted my sunsses as I talked. It may have been pitch ck outside, but the sunsses and Shelby''s cowboy hat perched on top of my head were enough to disguise my head injuries - like the massive shiner around my left eye. Besides, I already had my eyes set to nightvision anyway, so it''s not like I couldn''t see. I turned on my heel and started walking to my car again.


    "Okay, so... you''re leaving. Fine. Are youing <em>back</em>?" Cass asked, following me. I opened the door on my Corvega, hung my head, and sighed.


    "I... uh... maybe. I dunno," I muttered under my breath. The sound still echoed like I''d yelled it.


    "That''s it then?" Cass asked, incredulously. "After all that. Everything you''ve said. Everything you''ve done. Everything we''ve all been through. One fucking fight, and you''re just going to up and LEAVE?"


    "I''ll be back," I said in a tone of voice I wasn''t sure even I believed. "Just... don''t know when." I got in the drivers seat, starting up my car with a rumble; Cass just stood there, staring at me, slowly shaking her head.


    "You are such a fucking hypocrite."


    I couldn''t argue with her, even if I wanted to.

 Chapter 95: Curiosity killed the

    Chapter 95: Curiosity killed the


    My Corvega was parked on top of a hill somewhere just outside Henderson. I was sitting on the roof, surveying thendscape below me. The city of New Vegas stretched out for miles, like a twinkling carpet of stars poking out through the desert, with somerge stars shining brighter and with more color than others.


    The stillness of the night air was a wee contrast to the violence that had gone on in the Lucky 38 not so long ago. Exactly how long ago, I can''t be certain. I couldn''t be bothered to check the time. I just knew it was veryte.


    I reached for the bottle of whiskey next to me, and took another slug. It was almost empty. How had that happened? Hadn''t it been full when I started?


    I honestly... I didn''t know what to do. I had no idea if I should even stay in the Mojave. Sure, I''d been gathering allies and trying to set this whole "Independent Vegas" thing in motion, but... the more I thought about it, the more the impossibility of the whole endeavor seemed. It weighed against my head like a two-ton deathw, and it just... if I couldn''t even keep my own house in order, what chance did I have at running a nation, much less getting it going?


    Maybe Cass was right. Right now, I really did think that I was a hypocrite. Ever since the first spat between Arcade and Veronica, I always tried to make sure that everyone worked out their issues, and insisted that people not keep secrets from one another. Because that''s what a team is supposed to do, right? They''re supposed to be able to talk to one another, and work out their arguments so that when pushes to shove, we can all work together.


    But what had I done? I kept a secret from Veronica that got her so furious when she found out that the two of us were a hairs-width away from killing one another. And if I''d been following my own advice, I would be back at the 38, trying to talk to Veronica to work this fucking mess out. But here I am, sitting on a hill in Henderson, drinking by myself and contemting leaving everything behind.


    Some leader I turned out to be.


    Without a word, I drank thest gulp of whiskey in the bottom of the bottle before hurling the empty bottle as hard as I could into the darkness below. It was a good four or five seconds before I heard it smash against the rocks. I flopped backward, sprawling out on the roof of my car with a ng, and looked up. For all the lights in Vegas below, the night sky still shone just as bright.


    As I stared skyward, I suddenly became aware of something: the silence surrounding me was no longer absolute. I maneuvered my head - still lying on top of my car - to try and get my ears in a better position to listen... Yeah, there was definitely something going on. It was faint, but it was unmistakable:


    People shouting. Gunfire. rm sirens. It definitely sounded like somebody was under attack.


    Part of me didn''t even want to check. It''s not my problem, I told myself. It''s not worth getting up to check. You don''t even know who''s down there fighting, so you certainly have no reason to even get up. But... despite all those thoughts rattling around in my skull, my curiosity won out. I rolled off the top of my car, and opened the trunk. Without a sound, I grabbed my scoped rifle Pinpoint, and headed over to the direction of the sounds. I didn''t even really have much ammo for the rifle - not really. But the scope woulde in handy if they were as far away as the sounds suggested.


    I knelt down at the edge of the ridge, switching my eyes back to night vision. About a half-mile distant - I think - I could see a small concrete building, sitting next to a fenced-off field of electrical transformers, and all around were the unmistakable muzzle shes of gunfire. I pressed the rifle stock into my shoulder, and peered into the scope.


    The building was surrounded entirely by NCR soldiers, shouting and shooting from behind sandbag barricades and inside small concrete pill-box bunkers. I panned the rifle to get a look at their attackers; sure enough, a pack of Legion soldiers were running in from the south to assault the defenders of the building.


    As I watched the carnage unfold below me, I honestly couldn''t tell who was going to get the upper hand. The NCR forces were in a much better position - the building seemed to have been built in the corner of a small v-shaped canyon, allowing only one viable avenue of attack - and the soldiers themselves were heavily entrenched behind the sandbags, the bunkers, all that. But there were only about a dozen of them. The attacking Legion forces heavily outnumbered the NCR, and the Legion forces were able to close the gap with surprisingly few casualties. Forcing the conflict to go hand-to-hand took away the biggest advantage the NCR had.


    I took my eye away from the scope, and slowly got up. I sighed heavily, weighing my options. Sure, I could help the NCR. I didn''t have that many rounds for Pinpoint, but it was suppressed, and the elevated position gave me a distinct advantage that might confuse the Legion forces long enough to let the NCR get the upper hand... but what was the point? This wasn''t my fight.


    I shook my head, walking away from the ridge and back to my car. For all I knew, there were a dozen such attacks going on all over the wastnd right now. I couldn''t stop them all.


    I barely got halfway back to my car before the sounds of the conflict behind me changed once again. I came to a halt immediately, recognizing the sound. That didn''t sound like... that wasn''t <em>gun</em> fire. That was <em>sma</em> fire.


    In a sh, I was back to the ridge, with the rifle scope against my eye. Sure enough, the conflict <em>had</em> changed. It was almost like the Legion and the NCR were... were they fighting <em>side by side</em>? Bright streaks screamed into troops on both sides - I couldn''t tell what color it was, since the night vision tinged everything green - and I tried to find the source...


    My blood ran cold and my pulse quickened simultaneously, somehow. A single, solitary figure was fighting <em>both </em>sides, and was <em>winning</em>. The figure was practically dancing around the battlefield, moving around their opponents like water or smoke. This was unmistakably the same person that had killed Orris and saved Veronica and me from the pack of cazadores before I was spirited away to the Sierra Madre.


    I had to get down there. This was my best chance at getting some answers. I had been trying to figure out who this person was for <em>weeks</em>, but I''d only seen them twice. If I could get down there before he or she or <em>it </em>was finished, maybe... maybe I could... I don''t know what I thought I could do. But I dropped Pinpoint on the ground, and started climbing down the side of the cliff.


    The closer I got, the more I could see: whoever this person was, it was clear that they weren''t merely using the energy weapons. They were dispatching both the NCR and Legion troops with precise and deadly melee strikes. I saw at least one get kicked with enough force to send them flying back several feet. The attacker was switching between punches, kicks, and sma sts with an unnatural ease, and a speed that made me realize that this person - whoever they were - almost certainly wasn''t human.


    This was a bad idea. It was almost certainly the worst idea I''d ever had - and that was saying something. But I''de too far down the cliff to try and turn back, and more than that... I needed answers, if only to sate my curiosity.


    By the time I reached the bottom of the cliff, the fight was over. Both sides had been wiped out, with bodies littering the ground. The attacker was standing with their back to me, standing over one of the still moving bodies writhing on the ground. It was a Legion soldier, choking and gagging on, presumably, their own blood. The attacker sent a burst of energy weapon fire into the Legionnaire''s head with an almost clinical precision.


    For the first time, I got a decent look at this person. If the general shape of the body was anything to go by, then I was dealing with a woman. The armor almost reminded me a bit of the kind of armor Veronica wore under her robe. There were dark metal tes over a ck bodysuit made out of that same kind of muscle-cables that created an exaggerated hourss figure. Could this be another member of the Brotherhood? I couldn''t be certain. I vaguely remembered Veronica mentioning that her suit was a one-of-a-kind prototype.


    What I <em>did</em> know for certain is that it was hard to make out any details about the material at all. It was almost like the suit itself was trying to be invisible, even without the Stealth Boys I knew she had on her, somewhere. What''s more, she was positively <em>covered</em> in weapons. There was a pistol mounted on each thigh, a knife on each boot, arge curved knife on the back of her belt, and several other unidentifiable weapons strapped to her back. To be honest, the weapons didn''t look like weapons - they looked merely like metal boxes. In fact, I only knew the pistols were pistols because I saw her ''holster'' one after executing the fallen Legion soldier. She set it against her thigh, it stayed there, and it folded up into itself, turning into a small metal box with a series of mechanical whirrs. It wasn''t like any weapon I''d ever seen before.


    There was one more detail that I couldn''t help but notice: she was wearing a <em>Pip Boy</em> of her own. Except... it wasn''t quite a Pip Boy. It looked sleeker, smaller, and morepact than the bulky device I wore on my left arm... and what''s more, her Pip Boy was attached to her right arm.


    I barely got a few feet away from the bottom of the cliff before this mysterious woman spoke up:


    "You shouldn''t be here." The voice was calm, precise, and very heavily synthesized. I couldn''t recognize it. It sounded a bit like a robot, and when she turned around to look at me, the sound made sense. She was wearing a helmet that covered her entire head. The helmet had three eyes, like I''d seen before - two rtively normal sized eyes where you would expect and a single round eye in the center of her forehead. All three eyes glowed yellow, and were the most visible part of her armor. She didn''t have ears so much as two spikes on each side of her head. It made her look like she had horns. There wasn''t a mouth on the helmet, but there wasn''t an obvious respirator like you got with Brotherhood helmets either.


    "I know. I''m well aware of how much I shouldn''t be here," I said, putting my hands in the air to show her that I was unarmed. <em>Like it would matter,</em> I thought to myself. <em>She just executed an unarmed, dying man like she was swatting a fly</em>. I tried to steady my breathing. "Look, I''ve seen you before, and I know you''ve seen me. Twice that I know of, at least. Both times, you could''ve killed me easily. But you didn''t. I just want... I just want to know why."


    The air between us was silent for several seconds. She stood there, surrounded by bodies on all sides, staring at me. She tilted her head to the side, like she was listening to some unseen voice.


    "Leave," she said finally, in that same synthesized voice. "Last chance."


    "Look, if you''re gonna kill me, kill me," I said, regretting it almost immediately. "But if you''re not, could you... I just don''t understand. Why kill Orris? Why save me from the cazadores? I... <em>who are you</em>?" I pleaded. "That''s all I want to know."


    She didn''t say anything. She justunched herself into the air almost faster than I could see, and came at me. There had to be 15 feet between us, at least, and she closed the distance almost instantly. I brought my arm up to protect myself in what was probably a futile gesture. Her fist impacted against my Pip Boy with a resounding ng of metal against metal. Despite bracing myself with a solid stance, I could feel my feet slide against the dirt and sand several feet.


    I couldn''t react fast enough. She brought her hands underneath my arm, knocking them out of the way, and grabbed me by the neck and shoulders with both hands. My stomach turned and my vision went sideways. She''d picked me up and thrown me like she was tossing a softball.


    After sailing through the air for a few seconds, I mmed into the ground with a heavy thud; I tumbled and slid against the hard gravel before finally skidding to a halt. Every single wound from my fight with Veronica felt like it had broken open, and my whole body was screaming at me. I didn''t have time to worry about that - or even time to get up - because the next thing I knew, she was on top of me. She straddled my chest, pinning me to the ground, and pressed a gloved hand against my mouth, pinching my nose. I struggled as hard as I possibly could, but her grip on me was titanic. I couldn''t even move my arms.


    I couldn''t breathe - again. Except this time, there wouldn''t be a save at thest minute. My vision blurred, and I started to slip into unconsciousness. Before I was relegated to oblivion, I heard something.


    "I''m sorry."


    And then I was gone.


    <em>I heard a voice, but I couldn''t tell what it had said. I opened my eyes, and was met with a nket of stars. I stretched out on top of the nket I was lying on, andced my fingers behind my head, looking over at the owner of the voice.</em>


    <em>"What was that?" I asked, failing to hold back a smile. I couldn''t help it. Grinning like an idiot was my default state when I was around her. </em>


    <em>I sighed, admiring her in the soft moonlight. She was a vision of perfection, the blue glow practically dancing against her, highlighting every one of her gorgeous curves. Long, wavy raven hair flowed around her face like a river of hair. She looked over her shoulder at me with those big, green, vibrant eyes of hers, and finally leaned in close.</em>


    <em>"I said, if you''re that tired..." she said with a voice as smooth as silk and sweet as honey that wafted into my ears from those smiling lips. "We could always just go back inside..." She leaned so close that our noses nearly touched, and her lips were curved in a sultry smile.</em>


    <em>"Never said I was tired," I smiled. Without another word, I leaned up to meet her, and kissed her softly. "Gotcha!" Sheughed and shook her head.</em>


    <em>"You''re bad," she said yfully. She sat up, resting a hand on my leg; I followed suit, sitting up beside her to wrap my arm around her shoulders. She leaned into me, running her fingers softly up and down my thigh, and the two of us gazed skyward. For a few minutes, neither of us said anything. We just enjoyed the silence and peace... we just enjoyed being close to one another. I held her close, and I could feel her heart beating inside her chest.</em>


    <em>"This is... nice..." she said finally, breaking the silence. "But it won''tst." I did a double take.</em>


    <em>"Er... what?" I turned to look at her, utterly confused. Her gaze was still locked skyward.</em>


    <em>"This peace. It''s not going tost." Her voice carried a slightly mncholic air, and I looked around, thinking about that.</em>


    <em>"Well... sure. It''s not going to be night forever. Day''ll break soon, and everyone''ll get up-" She smiled and shook her head, chuckling softly to herself. She stopped stroking my leg to reach up and run her hand through my hair.</em>


    <em>"No, not that you goof." With her free hand, she gestured to the Shady Sands skyline beyond the edge of the roof we were sitting on. "I mean... all this. Civilization. All of this is... it can''tst."</em>


    <em>"What the hell brought this on?" I asked with augh. I obviously wasn''t taking it as seriously as she was. She shrugged, and looked up at the sky again; the light of the full moon was shining on her face, giving her a ghostly, almost ethereal quality to her features.</em>


    <em>"I dunno, I just... I''ve been doing a lot of... thinkingtely. And this world... this world has a nasty habit of destroying anything... wonderful." She drew me close, and leaned into me more. "What we have together is... wonderful." She looked up at me with those big, soulful, sad eyes. "And I don''t want things to change."</em>


    <em>I didn''t really know what to say at first. I was a bit stunned - all this serious talk was so unlike her. She wasn''t really the type to worry about </em>anything<em>. She drew back and shook her head, biting her lower lip.</em>


    <em>"I - I''m sorry. You''ve gone to all this trouble to make a nice night for us together, and her I am, being a misery-guts... I just-"</em>


    <em>"Babe," I shifted around to face her, and ced a hand on her cheek. She reached up, and held my hand against her face. "It''s nothing to worry about. Change is... it''s a fact of life. It''s nothing you can stop. But I''ll tell you this right now: the world could end tomorrow, and everything could change, but there''s one thing you''ll always be able to count on. One thing that you know will never change."</em>


    <em>She looked up at me, hopeful and eager for me to continue.</em>


    <em>"I will never stop loving you. I''ve loved you since the moment I firstid eyes on you, and I will keep on loving you until the day I die. No matter what happens to us, or the rest of the world, you can always count on me. You can always count on </em>us<em>."</em>


    <em>She reached up and hugged me, drawing me close; I returned the gesture, never wanting to let her go. Her scent filled my nostrils as my face brushed her neck. It was utterly intoxicating, and I smiled again.</em>


    <em>"I love you, Shea..." she whispered in my ear, her voice wavering and sounding on the edge of tears.</em>


    <em>"And I love you, Tu," I smiled to myself at the punny pet name I''d given her so long ago. She pulled away just enough so that we could get face to face. Our noses almost touched, and I could feel her hot breath brushing softly against my lips. Slowly, eagerly, the two of us drew closer and closer...</em>


    I woke with a start, coughing and spluttering. My eyes snapped open and I was, again, greeted by a nket of stars above my head. But I hadn''t been woken by the melodic sounds of my lovers voice; I was woken up by a body on fire and wracked with pain.


    "Aaaaugh..." I grunted, sitting up. I couldn''t decide on whether to clutch my head or my sides. "Oh, what the fuck..." I coughed again several times, and finally settled on bringing a hand to my mouth to check... Oh, good, I''m not bleeding. That''s always good.


    I looked around, trying to get my bearings. I was in the middle of a field, surrounded by NCR and Legion bodies... that''s right. I knew where I was, now. I sat there, trying to work up the strength to even get up off the ground, all the while trying to ignore the pain in my chest.


    I was pulled out of my thoughts by a familiar beeping sound. I looked up, and sure enough, ED-E was hovering around and bobbing over all the carnage surrounding me, beeping and whistling - doubling the noise when the robot finally took notice of me.


    "Hey... hey ED-E," I said, still a little short of breath. "Followed me, didja?" I coughed again, the pain in my chest spiking. ED-E hovered over to me, letting out a trio of happy, affirmative sounding beeps. "Thanks, little buddy. I guess if you''re still here, I can''t have fucked up too badly..." I let out another cough, trying to disguise it as augh, and ED-E beeped at me, sounding a little... was that confusion?


    "Yeah, I guess you missed all the action earlier..." ED-E let out a single solitary beep. "Yeah... you know, I think, out of all my friends, you''re the only one who hasn''t caused any problems. You haven''t been responsible for any drama, sleepless nights, or... cracked ribs," I winced, clutching my side. ED-E was silent, bobbing in the air and staring at me. At least, I think he was staring.


    "Truth be told... you''re probably the best friend I have right now," I said to the eyebot with a smile. He seemed pleased with that... but I had to think: what does that say about me?


    I touched my face as ED-E bobbed around happily, and realized that my sunsses and had had been knocked away. Made sense, really. What didn''t make sense was the wetness on my cheek. Was I bleeding? I drew my hand away to check - there wasn''t any red, so what... were those <em>tears</em>? Why was I... Forget it. I shook my head, trying to focus.


    "Hey, ED-E? Think you can help me up?" I said, lifting a hand up to the floating eyebot. He chirped, and hovered close enough for me to grab hold of the horizontal fin on his back. Next thing I knew, I was back on my feet - a bit wobbly, perhaps, but still up. "Thanks, buddy," I patted ED-E''s chassis, and he bobbed happily into my hand, a bit like a dog who enjoyed being scratched behind the ears.


    I was somewhere else throughout all this. That dream... it hadn''t been a dream. It was a memory... but it didn''t make sense. Why was my subconscious reminding me of <em>that</em>? That was thest night... thest truly happy moment I had with... but then she left. She left before the next morning, and never said why. But... why? Why was my brain thinking of <em>that</em>? I thought I''d buried that memory. I thought I''de to terms with that <em>years</em> ago, and left all that baggage behind. Was it just... hell, I thought I was done for, maybe my brain was just trying to give me onest happy moment before I finally went West.


    No. No, stop thinking about it. You left all that behind for a good reason. Don''t think about... her. There''s nothing down that road but sadness and pain.


    I needed a distraction. Another distraction. Something else to focus on.


    As it happened, that''s exactly what I got. ED-E started beeping frantically, and pulled himself away from my absent-minded petting, and suddenly shot up in the air to fly high above my head.


    "ED-E?" I asked, craning my neck to try and follow his movements. "What''s up? What are you -" I stopped mid-sentence when I saw what was freaking him out. One of the stars in the sky above my head was <em>moving</em>... and it was <em>gettingrger</em>.


    Right, that''s definitely not a star. Something was hurtling to the earth at a truly tremendous speed. My first instinct was to look for some kind of shelter or cover, but as the fireball started to really streak across the sky, I realized that it was definitely going to miss me. It veered off to the north, and disappeared behind the ridge next to me. From the sound (and the shaking ground) it must havended pretty close. Somewhere in Henderson.


    ED-E came back down to my level, and stared me straight in the face, beeping madly. I couldn''t actually understand him, and yet I knew exactly what he was saying. Without another word, ED-E zoomed off, in the direction of the fallen star, and I started running for my car - stopping along the way to pick up my sunsses and hat.


    I pulled the car to a stop, and got out. ED-E was just ahead of me, and had easily found the crash site, and had helped me find the quickest route.


    "What is this ce?" I asked, trying to get a look at what had crashed. "Is this... this is a drive-in, isn''t it?" ED-E beeped cautiously, and I advanced. Ahead of me, I could see a plume of smoke, except... it didn''t look quite right. It should''ve been brown, or reddish-orange from the fire. But it looked... <em>blue</em>.


    I had a really bad feeling about this. Before I left to find out exactly what had crashed, I rummaged through my car''s trunk and started loading myself down with as many weapons and explosives as I could carry. Thest time something crashed from the sky - and it belched out blue smoke - it was an alien spacecraftplete with a space alien armed with a ray gun.


    I didn''t want to take any chances.


    I finally ducked under the giant billboard that was, presumably, the movie screen when this ce was still a drive in, and saw what had crashed: it looked like a satellite. A few of the sr-panels on the edges were barely hanging on, and bent at odd angles, twitching asionally and shooting out sparks. On the far end of the satellite, behind arge oval dish, I could see a blue fire belching smoke into the air.


    The most curious thing about this satellite - quite apart from the fact that it was still in one piece - was the end closest to the sr panels. It looked like a camera lens, except... it was glowing. It looked like it was projecting... could it... I turned around to look at the movie screen, just on the off chance that -


    "What the fuck?" I said aloud. I stood there, trying to make sense - it was an <em>eye.</em> A blue-tinged image of a close-up of an eye, lousy with static, was being projected onto the movie screen by the satellite. The eye was twitching around, like it was looking around at... something. Maybe it was just looking around.


    ED-E hovered close, and beeped cautiously at me. I nodded, staring at the satellite, still marveling that it was still working.


    "Yeah, I hear you buddy... there''s something seriously not right here..." I edged closer, trying to get a better look. I wasn''t going to <em>touch</em> it, fuck no. It just crashed from the sky, it was probably still boiling hot, and would probably melt my flesh off if I got too close. But I still wanted to... what was that on the side?


    "Is that an American g?" I asked aloud, leaning in to get -


    WHAT THE!


    I suddenly felt like every single cell in my body was being ripped apart. Everything started to spin wildly out of control. I felt an extremely ufortable sensation in the pit of my stomach, and started to work its way up. It was like a chain attached to my insides was trying to yank my rectum up through my mouth. I felt drunk, but it wasn''t at all pleasant - I had room spin and a massive headache, all pushed through the kaleidoscope filter of color and noise.


    I was caught in the grip of a teleporter. That''s not fair! I didn''t even touch the da-


    And then I cked out.

 Chapter 96: The Think Tank

    Chapter 96: The Think Tank


    <em>In the years before the Great War, Big Mountain had been the home of the brightest minds of the 21st century. Scientists of vision were drawn to the facility to tackle the greatest technological challenges of the era. They sought to create a new world, fueled by technology, for the benefit of all mankind. Sonic emitters, space age alloys, DNA hybridization, force field particle research, Auto-Doc advances in cranial, cardiac, and trauma surgery... the hopes and dreams of a century be realities in the electronic forges of Big Mountain. The nucleus of this research was the Dome, a huge stone facility that held thebs of every science known to man. It was a think tank where no problem could not be solved, where no question could not be answered. The Great War brought a new energy to Big Mountain and its scientists. Although sheltered from the frontlines, the scientists waged their own war, fighting their battles at the atomic level. Equations and calctions marched endlessly across chalkboards andputer terminals toward one solution: Winning the war. For years, the minds andputers of Big Mountain were a ze of trajectories, weapon schematics, and nuclear theories. The problems began to outpace the solutions, first geometrically, then exponentially. As the war escted, so did the questions. On the night of October 23rd, 2077, the scientists received an answer that put all their questions to rest. In the aftermath, Big Mountain''s silent experiments went to sleep, their creators slowly dying in the new world that had been left behind. And the great stone in the middle of the Big Emptyy untouched, filled with countless technological wonders... Wonders that, in the end, had been answers to the wrong question.</em>


    I sat there on the couch, staring in ck-jawed silence and confusion for several minutes at the slide show. An old man had been speaking, while colorful images of scientific experiments had graced the wall in front of me. Behind me, I could hear the projector for the slide show humming and clicking away as each slide was swapped out.


    "The fuck?" I muttered aloud, my own voice sounding raspy and tired to my ears. Many questions rattled around my befuddled and foggy head, none of which I seemed able to really answer. Where was I? What had happened? What the fuck did I just watch? Why do I feel much heavier than normal? Why does my head itch? And why do I appear to be wearing a dress?


    Fuck, this is like the worst hangover in history.


    I got up off the couch - and then copsed back onto it. Holy crap, I''m dizzy all of a sudden. What happened? Why am I -


    And then it hit me. The crashed satellite in the drive in. There must have been a teleport or something hooked up to it because... a sense of panic and dread hit me like a sack of bricks. Immediately, I reached up to clutch at my neck, and then I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn''t wearing a bomb cor. Ok, wherever the hell this ce is, it''s already a step up from the Sierra Madre.


    My head was still reeling, but eventually I managed to get up off the couch. I needed to try and get my bearings, but everything was just so... <em>fuzzy</em>. At least I was able to tell that I wasn''t quite wearing a <em>dress</em> - for some reason I couldn''t determine, I was wearing a the kind of lightweight cloth gown given to medical patients.


    I couldn''t tell much about the room I was in, except that it was connected to other rooms, and the walls, floors, and ceiling were all made out of the same kind of dull, grey metal, giving it a cold, clinical, almost antiseptic feel.


    I stumbled into one of the adjacent rooms, and was deposited in a circr room, with a circr table in the center... except it wasn''t quite a table. I was having a lot of trouble thinking. Everything was... what was that humming? It was like the dull thud of machinery, but... I couldn''t... what <em>was</em> that?


    I checked out another of the adjacent rooms, and found a pair of doors. There was a sign between the two doors: at the top of the sign were the words "TO BIG MT" with an arrow pointing to the left door, and beneath it was "TO THINK TANK" with an arrow pointing to the right. In the middle of the sign was a symbol made up of two hexagons, the smaller one ovepping the lower right-hand edge of therger hexagon. As soon as I approached, therge wheel in the center of the door on the right started to spin, and the door opened, revealing an elevator.


    I was still a bit groggy, and I was obviously not thinking clearly. If I had been, I probably wouldn''t have stepped into the elevator so quickly - clearly, this was a trap. As it was, I didn''t so much step into the elevator as I did stumble, and as soon as I did, the door shut silently and the elevator descended.


    I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up properly; the next thing I knew, the elevator stopped and a door on the opposite wall opened, depositing me somewhere else. Cautiously - and a bit unsteadily - I stepped out of the elevator. I was in a small room made out of more of that same cold, antiseptic metal, and there was a ramp leading up somewhere right in front of me. As I started to ascend, a voice from above boomed and bellowed.


    "<strong>I THOUGHT I HEARD THE PACIFICATION FIELD KICK IN. ALL RIGHT, SHHHH. NOBODY. MOVE. I''LL HANDLE THIS.</strong>"


    When I got to the top of the ramp, I found myself in the middle of a vast dome, ringed on the edges by technical equipment andputers and servers and dozens upon dozens of things that I couldn''t make sense of. What confused me most of all, however, were the five robots hovering right in front of me.


    The first thought that crossed my addled, fuzzy mind was that a Mr. Gutsy and a robobrain hade together in a broom closet somewhere, made mad robot love, and these five were the illegitimate offspring to have resulted from such a coupling. Each one of the robots consisted of a singlerge ss dome - clearly with a brain inside - with metal pieces attached that allowed it to hover several feet above the ground. Underneath were three screens attached to the robot with multi-jointed mechanical arms. Two screens for the eyes, one underneath for the mouth. As I drew closer, I realized that the bio-med gel that the brains were sitting in were different colors for each robot.


    "<strong>BE WARNED INTRUDER!</strong>" The brain with the blue-tinted bio gel right in front bellowed as soon as I stepped into the middle of the dome. Every time he spoke (or yelled, as the case may be), the gel lit up from the inside, and the screens twitched and moved, like it was using those screens in an attempt to convey facial expressions."<strong>YOU ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF THE MIGHTY THINK TANK OF BIG MT, THE COLLECTIVE GENIUSES OF... WE...</strong>" He seemed to trail off, and the robot stopped yelling just long enough to turn and look at the other robots. "<strong>BY OPPENHEIMER, WHICH ONE OF YOU SELF-PROFESSED GENIUSES HAS BEEN ADJUSTING MY VOLUME KNOB? WHO WAS IT?! WAS IT YOU, 8?</strong>"


    From off to the side, one of the robots floated close to the central one; his bio gel was a sort of dull burnt-orange color. And then... it spoke. If you could really call it that.


    **[#-! ! ! !-#]**!


    It was the strangest sensation. I knew in the back of my head that all it was really "saying" out loud was static, but somehow... I dunno. It was almost like I could see the characters in my head... I didn''t have time to think about that, though, because the central one started yelling again.


    "<strong>OH, ''DOCTOR O,'' WAS IT? LIKELY STORY, O COULDN''T SPARK TWO NEURONS TOGETHER IF THEY WERE IN A LATTICE OF BIO-MED GEL!</strong>" As soon as his name was mentioned, another of the robots floated in close; this one''s gel didn''t really have a color, and instead just seemed to reflect the cold, antiseptic grey of the metal all around.


    "What? Me? Breaking news, Klein, it wasn''t me - all right?!" The robot spoke in a... how could something have a nasally-sounding voice if they didn''t actually have a nose? "I am the robotical engineer, 8 is soundwaves, that''s his ''specialty!'' You always do this, you always demean me in front of guests! And it''s not ''O," all right, it''s -" The central robot - Klein, apparently - pushed past the two brains on either side and started yelling again.


    "<strong>ENOUGH! EITHER OF YOU DO IT AGAIN, IT''LL BE THE LAST TIME! NOW... NOW... GREAT. NOW I FORGOT WHAT I WAS SAYING... WHAT WAS I TALKING ABOUT?</strong>" Even dazed and confused as I was, I saw this as a perfect opportunity to interrupt.


    "Uh... what''s going on?" I said aloud; all five of the robots turned to look at me. "Last thing I remember, I was at a theater... and then I was here? What is this ce?" Klein stared down at me... at least, I think he stared. The eyes on the screens were focused on me, at least.


    "<strong>DID... DID IT JUST SAY SOMETHING? ANYONE CATCH THAT? BOROUS, YOU WORK WITH ANIMALS, TRANSLATE!</strong>" One of the robots from the far side hovered in close and started scrutinizing me; this one''s gel was a sort of dull green color.


    "It''s a LOBOTOMITE! Here! In the DOME!" When this one - Borous - spoke, it was like I was listening to a bad actor in an old holotape with the way he put emphasis on certain words. I''m sure if it was a person and not a brain in a jar, it would wave it''s arms around as it spoke. It floated away and Klein started up again.


    "<strong>OH, AS IF THIS SITUATION COULDN''T GET ANY WORSE, NOW WE''VE GOT LOBOTOMITES! DALA, GET THE SPRAY BEFORE IT EXCRETES ALL OVER EVERYTHING!</strong>" I looked around behind me, and then - wait, they''re talking about me, aren''t they?


    "Lobotomite?" I said aloud. "What are you guys talking about?" As I spoke, thest of the robots hovered close to me. Much closer than Borous. This one had purple gel in it''s tank, and the eyes and mouth on the monitors looked slightly different than the others... almost... feminine, maybe? Hard to tell, with such a limited picture of the whole face, I know. But I just had that feeling.


    "Doctor Klein," Sure enough, it spoke in a female voice. Synthesized, like all the rest, but definitely a woman. "If my hypothesis is correct, this Lobotomite is the repository of the brain we sent the signal to - the skinvelope once containing it. If so, it''s proof that there may indeed be something beyond the Crater." As it... she... spoke, she started circling around me, the eyes very obviously scanning me. I was suddenly very much aware that I was still wearing only a medical gown that didn''t quite cover my backside. "Just look at it... the way it blinks. It''s like a big hairless teddy bear."


    "<strong>I KNOW WHAT IT IS, DALA, I WANT TO KNOW WHY IT''S DOWN HERE! WITH ITS...</strong>" The robot shuddered. "<strong>ITS LIMBS ALL OVER EVERYTHING! AND - AND ARE THOSE PENISES I SEE WRIGGLING ON ITS FEET? DISGUSTING!</strong>" I looked down at my bare feet and wiggled my toes, slightly amused at the thought. The purple one - D - leaned her eye-screens in close to inspect my toe-wiggling, and then floated back up closer to Klein.


    "I believe those are toes, Doctor Klein. Little teddy bear toes. Penises are muchrger than those tiny extremities -" She paused, looking back and forth, almost nervous. "Er... eh, not that I would know."


    "Well, mine certainly is," I said with a smirk. The gel inside D''s tank lit up at that. The one from the far side - Doctor O, I think - hovered around D to get a look.


    "I don''t recall the human penis ever being <em>that </emrge..." D regained herposure and turned to O, making a sound like... how could something clear their throat when they didn''t have one?


    "It depends on one''s own frame of reference, Doctor O. Look at it''s little nose with its two orifices for ingesting oxygen..."


    "<strong>NOSES?!</strong>"Klein barked again, "<strong>BY THE GREAT STATIC, THESE LOBOTOMITES CONFOUND ME WITH THEIR SHEER NUMBER OF USELESS EXTREMITIES!</strong>" Useless, huh? That gave me an idea. Without saying a word, I held up one finger, high above my head. All five of the robots turned to look. I nted the finger right in the middle of my chest. Then, I pointed at each of the robots - one, two, three, four, five - and held up all five fingers on my hand. Klein paused for a second, and then started yelling again.


    "<strong>NOW IT''S HOLDING UP AN ARRAY OF FULLY-ERECT HAND PENISES! IF IT TRIES TO INSERT THEM, ACTIVATE VIVISECTORS!</strong>"


    "Doctor Klein, WAIT!" Borous floated in from the side. "I... I don''t believe those gestures were RANDOM! Random AT ALL! It''s been FOLLOWING our conversation! The Lobotomite... it understands US!" As Borous spoke, D hovered above Klein, and came back down to buzz around me again.


    "I agree with Borous'' histrionic findings," D chimed in as she spent an inordinately long time lingering near my backside. "This little Lobotomite is unusually attentive for something whose brain has been extracted."


    Wait, what?


    "<strong>NONSENSE. LOBOTOMITES CAN''T COMPREHEND US!</strong>" Klein bellowed. D floated through the air back to the group of robots and away from me.


    **[= $ + _ - - *]**?


    "8, have you been in the Mentats again?" Doctor O chimed in as things got more heated. All the robots started circling around one another, starting to ignore me entirely. "If we slow down our auro-processo-resceptors to understand this excretion, we''ll all be rendered ignorant!"


    "<strong>ALL OF YOU! POWER DOWN, SHUT UP, AND LET ME PROVE ONCE AND FOR ALL HOW WRONG ALL OF YOU ARE - AS USUAL!</strong>" Klein rose above all the other robots, and flew down right in front of me, extending one of the eye monitors until it was merely inches away from my face. When he spoke to me, he was still yelling (and up close, he really hurt my eardrums) but he was speaking very slow, the way an idiot would try and speak to someone who spoke a differentnguage... "<strong>LOBOTOMITE - DO - YOU - UNDERSTAND - ME? CAN - YOU - SPEAK?</strong>"


    "Okay, hang on," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, and holding up a finger. "Back up. Did she say my <em>brain</em> has been taken out?" Klein paused, backing away from me. He turned from side to side, the bio gel in his brain-tank bubbling slightly.


    "<strong>THOSE... THOSE WERE WORDS, WEREN''T THEY? IN THE FORM OF QUESTIONS... IT''S ASKING ME QUESTIONS! IS THIS SOME KIND OF TRICK?</strong>"


    "Our efforts have turned against US!" Borous yelled hysterically. "In ying GOD, we created a MONSTER!" He started hovering around and around in quick circles, all three of his monitor''s shaking. D, on the other hand, seemed more interested than frightened.


    "Perhaps as we were ruthlessly lobotomizing it with our cutters, we filled this skinvelope with... awareness. A teddy bear with new stuffing..." She started edging closer, her two eye-monitors never leaving me, when O hovered right in her way.


    "Wait! If you''re theorizing that this Lobotomite can understand us..." O pivoted in the air and turned to Klein. "... can reason with us..." Klein looked at O, then at me.


    "<strong>THEN THIS MAY BE JUST THE ANSWER WE''VE BEEN LOOKING FOR!</strong>" Klein boomed, looming over me and looking down. "<strong>AT LAST, A CHANCE TO -</strong>"


    **[#-! ! ! !-#]**!


    "Doctor Klein!" Borous chimed in after 8 unleashed his burst of pseudo-static. "A TRANSMISSION! A transmission from the FORBIDDEN Zone! Coming right at US!" Suddenly, I heard a sound like a giant monitor flickering to life from behind me, and turned around; sure enough, there was a huge, wide screen mounted on the wall just behind me, and it was, in fact, turning on - but at the moment, it was only static.


    "<strong>IT CAN ONLY BE...</strong>"


    The signal cleared, and I was greeted with... another one of these brains. Except this one was... there''s no way I could mistake it for any of the others. For one thing, the monitor for it''s right eye was cracked and ckened, hanging limply on the end of one of the arms. The tank where the brain was kept looked filthy - the bio-med gel was yellowish with a strange red tint to it. Or maybe that was just because everything in this video looked like it had been pushed through a red filter. And then the robot spoke - with the same voice I''d heard in the slide show when I first woke up, except it echoed and clearly had been manipted to appear altogether more threatening and dramatic.


    "If it isn''t my old colleagues, the mighty ''Think Tank'' of Big MT!" The brain reared back, and let out burst of maniacalughter. "Big FOOLS, all of you! It is I, DOCTOR MOBIUS! Transmitting from my dome-shaped... er, DOME in the Forbidden Zone! A zone... that is, yes... forbidden to you! Even now, my deadly Robo-Scorpions swarm across Big MT with their pincers and pointyser tails! Soon, all Science will be mine! Even the technologies sealed inside the Big MT research centers cannot save you! So, cower in your ''Think Tank!'' and wait! Wait, for the end! Nya-ha-ha-ha-haaa!" After hisst burst ofughter, he seemed to settle down, and for a few seconds, we were treated to a bit of awkward silence. Had he left the camera running? "Um... That''s all... er... goodbye!"


    And then the transmission shut off. I gotta say, thest bit didn''t sound all that menacing.


    "<strong>MOBIUS...</strong>" Klein bellowed behind me, and I turned back; all four of the brains surrounding him were cowering and shaking behind him, with Klein the only one seemingly unfazed by the transmission. "<strong>ALWAYS THE SAME BROADCAST. HE''S CLEARLY MAD, DRIVEN INSANE BY HIS FLAWED AND IMPRECISE KINDERGARTEN-LEVEL RESEARCH METHODOLOGY!</strong>" O was the first one to stop cowering - though, by no means did he stop shaking.


    "What are we going to do? There''s no way we can breach the Forbidden Zone! There''s those robot scorpions everywhere!"


    "The FORBIDDEN ZONE!" Borous emerged, spreading all three of his monitors in opposite directions. "Where no brain has EVER entered! Nor ever RETURNED!"


    "Except Doctor Mobius..." D chimed in, hovering around Klein; contrasting to all the movement around him, he seemed rooted in ce, despite the fact that he was floating. "And the technologies that could save us... They are out of our reach!" Klein nodded his... monitors... in agreement.


    "<strong>AND MOBIUS MOCKS US. DID YOU SEE HIS CRACKED MONITOR? HE''S CLEARLY LET HIMSELF GO!</strong>" 8 zoomed in the air behind Klein, and started... well, <em>speaking</em>, to O.


    **[= $ + _ - - *]**? **[*. . . . . . .]**... **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "What?" O seemed taken aback by... whatever it is 8 had said. "Ask the <em>Lobotomite</em> for help? 8, I think you need the fluid levels in your logic-assist-pumps checked."


    "I agree with Doctor 8," D chimed in, turning to both O and 8. "If this Lobotomite responded, then it is clearly intelligent. Perhaps even disying heretofore unknown levels of helpfulness."


    "But what of it''s brain?" Borous asked, flying over. All four of the brains that had been nking Klein at the start were now circling around each other, with only Klein staying in the same ce. "We scooped that out! We don''t even know where we left it! And for putting it back in... none of us have the knowledge!"


    "Yes, but it''s still aware and responsive," D pointed out, pushing past the other brains to look at me again. "Look at it... it''s regarding us even now, with it''s big teddy bear eyes. If we ask politely and leave the part about the unnecessary ruthless lobotomizing out, it might be favorably disposed to us.


    As all of them were speaking, I finally took the time to inspect my head. I would''ve done it earlier, but I was so distracted, and... things were still fuzzy. Hell, that''s probably the only reason I hadn''t tried interrupting them more... I dunno, there was something about this room that was making me feel... passive is really the best word to describe it. It was like something was trying to keep me from thinking about anything important...


    And then, as my fingers ran over my head, my thoughts snapped into sharp focus. I couldn''t feel any <em>hair</em>, for one. I was bald! What the hell?! Why''d they shave my head? But that wasn''t the worst thing, oh no. I could feel a faint scar ringing my head like a crown. I followed it with both hands on either side, and sure enough... it went all the way around my head. But there was more. At the back of my head, where the base of my skull met my spine, I felt another scar, going down. There were also several metal pieces on the back of my neck that I couldn''t identify...


    I couldn''t breathe. I touched a hand to my chest - and that only made it worse. I could feel something <em>else</em> under my surgical gown. Feverishly, I grabbed the top and looked down: there was arge scar, shaped a bit like a Y and a T mixed together, right in the middle of my chest. I looked up, my eyes wide with horror, and I tried to quiet my breathing. Alright, you''re not dead yet, and that''s enough.


    "But..." I clutched a hand to my head again, unable to draw away from the scars on my head. "You... removed my brain... How did... how am I..." Before I got a chance to say anything else, D got closer and spoke up again.


    "We removed your brain, yes. So soft. Barely wrinkled, yet so... flush with knowledge and experience. Brain extraction technology has been standard practice at Big MT for an immeasurable amount of time." Borous floated around behind Klein, and started emoting wildly again.


    "Once the Brain was taken out, then came the COILS! The TESLA coils... the coils... of NIKOLA TESLAAAAAA!" 8 flew over to Borous, and started bursting static at the histrionic brain.


    **[$((*&^#%]**. **[*. . . . . . .]**... **[$((&^#%]**.


    "Yeah, 8, no need to brag," O muttered from his spot, having been left all alone again. "Wherever your brain is, it''s transmitting thoughts to you through... the... what... the, um... uh..." I''m sure that if he still had fingers, he''d be snapping them, trying to help him remember.


    "The TESLA COILS!" Borous chimed in helpfully. "It its HEAD!"


    "Yes, those. I would''ve gotten it eventually..."


    "This is fortunate in many respects," D said, speaking more to me than to the other brains. She seemed oddly... fixated on me. "If your brain anywhere in the Dome, why, you could ess your aggression centers..."


    "<strong>CIRCUMVENTING THE PACIFICATION FIELD.</strong>" Klein bellowed. I''d almost gotten used to the silence, and my eardrums stung. "<strong>THIS IS A NO-NO. WE HAVE NEVER BEEN IN A FIGHT. WE DO NOT WANT THAT.</strong>"


    "Reminds me of my days in American High! And... RICHIE MARCUS!" Borous spat with surprising venom. I finally gained enoughposure that I decided to try and speak up.


    "Okay, you took out my brain..." I ignored the absurdity of that statement, clutching my chest again. The strangest thing about all this, is that I wasn''t really in pain. I felt like I should''ve been, but I wasn''t, and that was making things... somewhat easier. "That doesn''t exin the scars on my chest... or on my spine!"


    "<strong>DALA!</strong>" Klein turned to the brain with the purple tank. "<strong>WAS IT NECESSARY THIS TIME?</strong>"


    "I assume full responsibility. I take my duties in the prodding and excision of living, breathing tissue quite seriously," D said with a measure of calm that seemed altogether disquieting. "Although, in truth, the Auto-Doc had done most of the work already. Quite industrious, almost cut into all my investigations." She turned away from Klein, and turned to look at me again. "Once it had removed the brain and I misced it, other organs began to cry for direction using your nerves as telegraph wires. Rather than let them send their signals, I removed them as well. Shhh, little organs. Go to sleep in your tanks, D loves you."


    "First, was the HEART!" Borous emoted from the other end of the room.


    **[*. . . . . . .]**... **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "Wait, I mean... SECOND was the heart!" Borous corrected himself after 8''s burst of static. "Brain was the first. THIRD... was the SPINE!"


    **[$((*&^#%]**? **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "Heh... spine. Totally overrated, that arrangement of vertebrae!" 0 chimed in, hovering behind D. "''Ooh, look at me, with my lumbar and thoracic curvature!'' Never had a use for any of that, myself. Spineless is what I prefer."


    "Yeah, you can say that again," I muttered under my breath. I turned to look directly at D. "Alright, back up. You said you removed my brain... and then ''misced'' it? What do you mean, ''misced'' it? How the fuck do you misce a brain?"


    "To be correct," D said, her monitors tilting to the side. "you should say, ''the Auto-Doc'' took out your brain. It did all the heavy lifting. It has never worked so hard before. It was unusual. It worked so hard on your surgery, it destroyed it''s own memory. Zzt." I couldn''t tell - was that an actual electric shock, or was she making that noise with her mouth? Wait, hang on, she didn''t have a mouth. "How odd. I bet your brain remembers what happened."


    "<strong>THAT AUTO-DOC JUNKHEAP WAS ONE OF MOBIUS'' CREATIONS, LIKE THE REST OF THE TALKING SCRAP METAL IN THE ATTIC!</strong>"


    "After that, the brain lost itself," Doctor O chimed in, still hovering around near the back behind everyone else. "Er, not in the metaphysical sense. Might have gotten flushed into one of the pipes." O looked from side to side, and hovered even further back. "Actually, that''s pretty likely..."


    "If so, it was FLUSHED all the way to MOBIUS!" Borous spread his monitors again, shaking them slightly whenever he put emphasis on the wrong word. "Fwooooooosh! That..." He paused. "... is the sound of FLUSHING!"


    "<strong>BY THE FISSURE OF ROLANDO!</strong>" Klein bellowed; it sounded like he was actually shouting this time, and wasn''t just hiding behind a turned-up volume knob. "<strong>ENOUGH OF THIS BIOLOGICAL SURGERY TALK! LOBOTOMITE!</strong>" He got right up in my face yet again. "<strong>LISTEN TO MY VOICE! IT DENOMINATES ME TO ASK, BUT... WE NEED YOUR HELP. IN MOST PROBABLE OF PROBABILITIES, OUR ENEMY, MOBIUS, HAS YOUR BRAIN. THIS IS NOT GOOD. HE WILL MOST LIKELY COME AFTER OUR BRAINS NEXT. WE WANT YOU TO STOP HIM. SOMEHOW. WITH SCIENCE.</strong>"


    "Alright, well... if he has my brain..." I sighed, finally epting it and deciding to just roll with the punches. "...I guess I''ll go out to try and find him. Do you have a n to get into this ''Forbidden Zone'' ce, whatever the fuck it is?"


    "<strong>YES. WE HAVE JUST ONE CHANCE. A DESPERATE PLAN THAT CAME TO US AFTER MOBIUS'' FIRST BROADCAST. MAYBE... JUST MAYBE... IF WE RECLAIN THE TECHNOLOGIES BURIED IN BIG MT, WE CAN PUT AN END TO MOBIUS AND THE HORRORS SPAWNING FROM THE FORBIDDEN ZONE.</strong>"


    There was a very long pause where nobody spoke.


    "... and? What exactly is the n? C''mon man, you''re losing me in the generalities, I need specifics here."


    "<strong>THE PLAN IS VERY COMPLICATED,</strong>" Klein said, the eye monitors shifting to the side slightly. "<strong>WE ARE STILL CALCULATING HOW IT WOULD WORK IF IT SUCCEEDED. THAT IS OUR PART OF THE PLAN.</strong>"


    "If it''s so fuckingplicated," I folded my arms across my chest, "Then why do you need me? Can''t you do it?" I was getting a bit impatient, sure, but whenever I tried to rile myself up beyond mild impatience, I just... my head went all fuzzy. Klein looked from side to side, and backed up away from me.


    "<strong>UM. NO.</strong>"


    "No? What do you mean ''No?'' Why the fuck not?"


    "You are..." D paused, staring at me. "...equipped." I looked down, and it was only in that particr moment that I realized I wasn''t actually wearing any pants.


    "Well, yes, I am," I said without thinking. "But I hardly see how that''s relevant."


    "T-technologies! Y-you''re equipped to retrieve the technologies!" D said, stumbling over her words, and her brain-tank lighting up brightly. "Your primitive form... can..." Doctor O coughed, hovering around D.


    "It''s kind of embarrassing, really. You have hands. And... uh, a heartbeat. So to speak. And eyes..." O paused, coughing again. "It''s mostly the hands. There''s door handles, and lockers, and-"


    "<strong>ENOUGH!</strong>" Klein yelled, cutting O off mid-sentence. "<strong>LOBOTOMITE! WE NEED YOUR HELP. WILL YOU HELP US?</strong>"


    "Yes, sure, fine!" I said, rubbing my forehead. "I''m listening, let''s hear it. Just, fucking, spit it out already before you bore me to death..."


    "<strong>EXCELLENT! THIS TURNING OUT MUCH BETTER THAN THE ACTIVATE-THE-RETREAT-PROTOCOLS-AND-COWER-IN-MY-ROOM IDEA I HAD EARLIER!</strong>"


    "Agreed! Oh, and I''ve used my robotical knowledge to um... eh... transmit the... radio map... waves to... to..." O seemed to trail off a bit, like he was confused, and 8... ''helped'' him.


    **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "Settle down, 8!" Doctor O said, talking over the static. "I would have gotten it in a second, all right?! 8''s transmitted thest known coordinates of the research centers. They, um... they... well, they <em>move</em> sometimes. Or get buried. Or blow up."


    **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "<strong>8 IS CORRECT. ALL WE NEED ARE THE SCHEMATICS. THIS DOES NOT MEAN WE DO NOT WANT THE COLD, HARD TECHNOLOGY, HOWEVER. SO DO NOT GIVE IN TO YOUR BIOLOGICAL TIRED-LAZINESS AND DECIDE YOU WOULD SWEAT TOO MUCH CARRYING THEM. YOU HAVE A NEW SPINE. USE IT! AND EVEN IF YOU DIE IN THE ACT OF RECLAMATION, SIMPLY REACHING THEM WITH AUTO-TRANSMITIFY THE SCHEMATICS TO US. THAT IS STILL GOOD. FOR US.</strong>"


    "I''ll certainly do my best to not get killed, you don''t have to worry about that," I said feeling my eye twitch slightly. Why do I always seem to get stuck with the assholes who don''t care if I live or die? Just once, could I have a boss who actually cared for my well being, or is that too much to ask? "But if you don''t tell me what I need to find, I can''t help you. So what the fuck do you need?"


    "<strong>THE TECHNOLOGIES ARE THE X-2 TRANSMITTER ANTENNA ARRAY, USED TO FOCUS COHERENT THOUGHT AT EXCESSIVELY HIGH FREQUENCIES.</strong>"


    "The psycho-analytic cardiac-dampening sneaky stealth suit!" Borous added, after Klein finished. "A suit like NOTHING this world has ever heard, seen, or could EVER see!"


    **[*$(^=)#]**!


    "... and 8''s Sonic-Soundwave-Emitter-Projecto-Gun, able to broadcast sound at lethal frequencies." D tranted 8''s static. And then, she added a bit of an addendum: "It also give a great biogel massage."


    "<strong>THERE! WE HAVE INFORMED YOU OF ALL WE NEED. WE ESTIMATE THAT IF YOU ARE FOCUSED, YOUR TIME INVESTMENT WILL BE MINIMAL. BY OUR STANDARDS. IF YOU WORK QUICKLY, YOU WILL BE THE RECIPIENT OF A GESTURE OF GRATITUDE FROM US. WE DO NOT BESTOW THESE OLD WORLD GESTURES LIGHTLY!</strong>"


    "What if I take my time to explore the ce?" And look for a way out, I didn''t say. Immediately, Klein recoiled and rose up to tower over me.


    "<strong>WHAT ILLOGIC IS THIS?! KEEP YOUR FILTHY PENIS-TIPPED FEET OUT OF OUR LABS AND SECRETS!</strong>"


    "There are things here no Lobotomite was MEANT to see, things that would ASTOUND! And possibly terrify." Borous added with a theatrical shake: "TERRIFYYYYYY!"


    "Yeah, we don''te into yourb and decant your solutions!" O added from the back.


    "Only the magnificence of our monitors allow for trueprehension of the wonders of Big MT," D said with surprising urgency. "Shield your jellied eyes, let they burn from your skull!"


    May have touched a nerve there. Let''s roll with it, I thought with a smirk.


    "Nah, doesn''t sound like my style. I think I''ll do a little exploring. Take some time, have some lunch..." Klein got right in my face again.


    "<strong>YOU WOULD NOT DARE! PERHAPS I CAN CHANGE YOUR MIND... USING THE GREATEST OF OUR SCIENCES: THE FENCE!</strong>" He paused, apparently expecting me to know what that was.


    "What, like... a chain link fence?"


    "<strong>NO!</strong>" He shouted back. If he actually had a mouth, I''m sure I would''ve been drenched in spittle by now. "<strong>THE RADAR FENCE!</strong>"


    "The mighty radar fence protects us ALL!" Borous edged in closer, and Klein hovered away. "Get too close to the blinking posts, and the proximity warning shall be your... WARNING you are TOO CLOSE!"


    "If you get near it, your vision will blur as the electrodes in your head shut off one by one," O said. "Click, click, click..."


    "Possible memory loss will ur, along with long-term nerve degradation," D chimed in. "It is tied to not having a brain attached to your nervous system. The nerve degradation should be nothing to worry about - such degradation would take many life spans to be evident. And all biology dies."


    "<strong>THE RADAR FENCE THAT SURROUNDS THE BIG MT CRATER WILL PREVENT - ER, PROTECT YOU FROM STRAYING BEYOND THE FACILITY!</strong>"


    "So I can''t leave," I sighed. Great. Not again.


    "O, um...Doctor Klein?" Cautiously, O hovered in closer to the central brain. "Doctor Klein? If I may intersect for a moment -"


    "<strong>WHAT IS IT? THE LOBOTOMITE IS ASKING ME THINGS, O, AND I AM TRYING TO IGNORE THEM! MY PROCESSORS CAN''T IGNORE YOU BOTH AT THE SAME TIME!</strong>"


    "Well..." He gulped nervously - again, how could he gulp without a mouth? Or a throat? "You know how we asked it to fetch the Sonic Emitter thing? Well, turns out..." A panel on a box near one of theputer consoles opened up, and O projected a beam of light into it - and secondster, the beam of light held aloft something that looked a bit like the Pulse Gun. "... we already have it! What are the odds?"


    "<strong>WHAT IS THIS, A HIGH SCHOOL SCIENCE FAIR?!</strong>" Klein yelled, legitimately furious now. "<strong>GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER, YOU''RE MAKING US LOOK LIKE A COLLECTION OF ROUND-EARTHERS!</strong>"


    "You''re always yelling!" O whined back, still holding the gun aloft in the beam of light. "My receptors can''t take it anymore - and neither can my feelings!"


    "<strong>I AM YELLING,</strong>" Klein hovered close to O and practically butted heads... tanks... whatever. "<strong>BECAUSE YOU CONTAMINATED SPECIMENS CAN''T KEEP YOUR PROBES OFF THE VOLUME KNOB ON MY VOICE MODULE!</strong>"


    "For fuck sake!" I yelled, clutching my forehead. "Please! Stop! Fighting!" I shook my head... and started to slowlyugh. It was either augh of the onset of madness or of sick desperation. I couldn''t tell which.


    "<strong>IT IS TRULY THE END OF ALL INTELLIGENCE WHEN THE LOBOTOMITE SPEAKS MORE WISDOM THAN YOU ''GENIUSES!'' SO - IF WE HAVE THE SOUNDWAVE... SONIC... PROJECT-O... THING-GUN... THEN WHAT IN HEISENBERG''S NAME DO WE NEED FROM X-8?! ANYONE?!</strong>"


    "I believe we need a new frequency embedded into the gun," D said calmly. "It was designed to broadcast may sounds once charged. We just don''t know the frequency."


    "And it is LOST!" Borous emoted from the other side of the room. "LOST in X-8! Just as X-8 is forever lost to US! The sadness of my High School days! The sadness of my YOUTH! My YOUTH! LOST!"


    "Really, Borous?" O said, and my attention snapped to his side of the room; it was like watching tennis. "All you did in High School was Commie fink-tattle-tale on all the kids you hated, you little teacher''s pet brown-hound!"


    "Brown-hound?!" Borous yelled. "You leave Gabe out of this!"


    "<strong>GIVE. THE. LOBOTOMITE. THE. EMITTER.</strong>" Klein seethed. "<strong>DOES IT HAVE AN AUDIO EFFECT FREQUENCY LOADED?</strong>" Before anyone could answer, 8 hovered over to O, and projected his own light-beam, snatching the sonic gun away from O. And then...


    **[ . . . . . . . ! ]**


    "Uh... I don''t think..." O trailed off, not really sure what...


    **[ . . . . . . . ! ]** **[ . . . ! . . . ! ]**


    "<strong>WHAT - WHAT IS HE DOING?!</strong>" Klein asked, and really... I had to ask the same. Everyone, including me, was staring at 8,pletely transfixed...


    "I think..." O gulped again. "I think he sonjacting into the gun. Getting it... warmed up." I couldn''t look away. It was like I was watching a car crash!


    **[ . ! . ! . ! . ! ]** **[ ! . ! ! ! ! . ! ]** **[ . ! ! ! ! ! ! . ]** **[ ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ]** **[ ! . . . . . . . ]**


    "Ding. Turkey''s done." O said with a subtleugh. <strong>That</strong> was definitely augh of sick desperation.


    "<strong>YOU GIVE IT TO THE LOBOTOMITE. I''M NOT TOUCHING THAT THING!</strong>" Klein backed away as 8 held the sonic gun aloft in his little tractor beam, trying to offer it to various other brains, each one backing away.


    "O, I don''t think so!" O said. D finally moved up, and took the sonic gun with her own violet-colored light beam.


    "I''ll do it if you two are going to be ashamed of your own technological needs. Let me give it a little... sonic sterilization first." The light beam changed color slightly, and I thought it was making a humming noise - until I realized D was just making the noise with her mouth. "wooOOOoooOOO... All right. All anti-bacterial fresh," She hovered over to me, offering me the sonic gun by holding it aloft in front of my face - and then releasing it from the tractor beam. I fumbled a bit, but eventually caught hold of it... and then grimaced, holding it as daintily as I could between my thumb and index finger. "Here, my little Teddy Bear. I have thoroughly removed all RobCo termlink code spew from the device. It is clean, shiny, and ready for your hands."


    "Er... thanks..." I girded my loins, and held the gun more firmly, turning it around, and inspecting it. It really did look a lot like the pulse gun, except there was as small round panel on the back, just above my thumb, which had a small waveform pattern moving back and forth. On top of the gun was a slot for... "Hang on, does this thing use small energy cells?"


    "I believe it does, yes." D said, nodding her tank. "You may need to look for some extra cells while you look for our technologies. Energy cells such as those have a high expenditure rate."


    "<strong>HMMM...</strong>" Klein added from the back. "<strong>YES, I BELIEVE WATTZ ELECTRONICS TENDED TO MAKE THE BATTERY SHELF LIFE ON THE LOW END.</strong>"


    "They certainly did, Doctor Klein," D added, moving away. "Batteries for my vibr - vivisectors... would alwayse up short right before... climax." D''s tank seemed to glow again.


    "I think Wattz manufactured holodisks too, didn''t they? Or was it holotapes?" O shook his monitors. "Never could keep those two straight. Anyway, we''re out of small energy cells. D." O looked at the purple-tanked brain; D looked away, at something on the ceiling. O shook his monitors again, and turned his attention back to me. "O, and careful where you''re pointing that. That device wasn''t always a weapon. It was more like... er... a... force field... kind of... thing. Once."


    "Force fields prevent us from MOVING!" Borous chimed in. "FORward or BACKward!"


    "<strong>THEY ARE IRRITATING.</strong>"


    "The Sonic Emitter was specifically designed to disable our own safety force fields here in Big MT..." D spoke up, turning to look back at O. "...when some of us lost our ess passes. <em>Doctor O</em>."


    "That only happened once!" O whined. "And I know you were behind stealth-fielding myb keys, D, you disgusting formographer!" D gasped, and her tank lit up again.


    "Doctor O, you rewind thatment this instant!"


    "Plenty of rewinding already going on in your formography tapes! Surprised the things don''t snap out of their cases with repeated ''observations!''"


    "Hang on, hang on," I said aloud, trying to snap the two out of their bickering. "Are you trying to tell me that this thing can disable force fields?"


    "<strong>YES.</strong>" Klein said tly.


    **[=$+_- -*]**?


    "<strong>MAYBE.</strong>" He corrected himself.


    **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "<strong>WELL. NO. NOT CURRENTLY.</strong>" He corrected himself again.


    "Yeah, we lost that part of the schematics," O said, hovering around D. "Or Borous did. In one of his stupidbs - or inside one of his stupid pets!"


    "It is LOST!" Ugh, again with Borous'' overacting. He was chewing the scenery so much, he''d be picking ster out of his teeth for days. "All questions lead to this conclusion! The blue fields of force within Big MT shall be fielded with force... FOREVER!"


    "Ugh, forget I asked," I grunted, rubbing my temple again. "I honestly could care less about all this. Can I go? I kind of need to stop Mobius." I paused, looking down. "And, perhaps, find a pair of pants."


    "<strong>FINE. SO... YES. GET THESE THINGS FOR US. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO COMPREHEND THEIR COMPLICATED SCHEMATICS. THAT IS FOR US TO DO. NOT A FILTHY, IGNORANT LOBOTOMITE LIKE YOURSELF.</strong>"


    "Oh, don''t worry," I said with a nod. "I''ll be sure not to tamper with anything. I promise."


    No I don''t.


    "<strong>WELL... GOOD. WHAT ARE THE TOKEN WORDS SPOKEN IN THIS CASE? UH... ''THANK YOU?'' YES - THANK. YOU.</strong>"


    "Wait, is it leaving?" D zoomed around O, and over to Klein. "Uh, but... er, Doctor Klein, the Lobotomite will need rest. Recuperation. It is organic, it will need things like that. I would like to volunteer my chambers so that it might be stared at, my monitor radars slowly scanning its form to collect sensitive data, and -"


    As she rattled off what she wanted to do, I let out an extremely nervous chuckle. Everything she was saying was both terrifying and strangely arousing, for some perverse reason, and the fact that I was thinking that was just making me more terrified.


    "NO!" Borous yelled, thankfully cutting her off mid-sentence and keeping her from saying any more. "That would put it too CLOSE to US! It could press BUTTONS! Turn lights ON! And OFF! And worse, it could let OTHER Lobotomites in!"


    "We could always give it Mobius'' old room," O offered up. "It''s where its brain got scooped out anyway. It''s probably where it woke up. Plus, some its parts are already there. Might be moreforting for it to hang out with its spine and heart. Home is where the heart is, after all. Heh heh... See what I did there? Went literal." Hang on, were they talking about the ce upstairs? Where I woke up? My heart and spine were up there?


    "<strong>I SUPPOSE,</strong>" Klein said. "<strong>WE''LL HAVE TO MOVE THAT COUCH OUT OF THERE, THOUGH. BEEN PUTTING THAT OFF FOR TOO LONG.</strong>" Yep, they were definitely talking about the ce upstairs.


    **[$((*&^#%]**.


    "8, are you sure?" O asked after 8 was finished belching static. "Actually, now I think about it, giving the Lobotomite the Sink Central Intelligence Personality Chip so it can be re-installed is a good idea. That stuffy Mobius-programmed butt-ler can walk the Lobotomite, feed it, barter with it for us..."


    "It would also prevent it from going to Higgs Vige and taking up residence there," D added. "With my teddy bears. And it would be nice to have it so..." D turned and looked directly at me; her tank lit up again. "... close."


    "<strong>YOUR LOGIC COMBINED WITH MY DESIRE TO KEEP THE THINK TANK LOBOTOMITE-FREE HAS SWAYED ME. HERE.</strong>" Klein floated over to a nearby desk that had several boxes worth of electronics all around it, and used his tractor beam thing to pick up a device that looked almost like a keycard, dropping it over one of my hands. "<strong>I PRESENT THE SINK CENTRAL ''INTELLIGENCE.'' LOBOTOMITE, TAKE THIS CHIP TO THE SINK. PLUG IT IN, AND MAKE SURE THE CHIP IS CLEAN, OR IT COULD SKIP. THEN MAKE WHATEVER CRUDE BIOLOGIC DEMANDS YOU NEED OF THE SINK. IT WILL CATER TO MOST OF YOUR HORMONAL WHIMS.</strong>"


    I turned the card over and over in my hand, inspecting it closely. It sort of looked like a tinyputer motherboard; it was a dull green, with a maze-like pattern of metal and wires covering nearly every inch.


    "This chip looks a bit like it was mass-produced," I said, holding it up. "Are there any other chips?"


    "<strong>ARE THERE OTHER CHIPS?</strong>" Klein sounded confused.


    "Are... are you just echoing what he said, or... are you asking for real?" O asked.


    "I believe he''s asking," D said, bobbing around O. "Yes, Doctor Klein. There are other personalities. If you recall, you hurled them off the Sink balcony after yourst argument with Mobius."


    "<strong>IT IS NOT AN ARGUMENT IF ONE IS CLEARLY RIGHT AND THE OTHER IS CLEARLY WRONG!</strong>" Klein yelled back, turning away from D and back to me. "<strong>YES, YES, I REMEMBER NOW. YES, LOBOTOMITE, THERE ARE OTHER CHIPS. IF YOU WANT, FIND THEM. I BELIEVE THEY ARE STORED ON SIMILAR DEVICES IN MANY OF OUR OTHER FACILITIES. BUT YOU SHOULD STAY OUT OF THOSE - NO EXPLORING AND DISCOVERING THINGS!</strong>" I shook my head and let out another softugh again, trying to disguise it as a cough.


    "Alright, alright, whatever. So, I just plug this thing into the circr map-thing in the room upstairs? That''s the Sink?" Why would they call it that?


    "<strong>YES. YOU MAY NEED TO WIGGLE IT IN A BIT, BUT DON''T FORCE IT. WE CAN''T RE-CODE THEM IF YOU BREAK IT. NOW GO! THERE IS NO MORE WE CAN DO TO ''AID'' YOU, AND OUR PATIENCE LEVELS ARE FAR PAST DEPLETED!</strong>"


    "Finally, we''re in agreement!" I said, turning on my heels to go back down the ramp. I gave them a wave as I descended, and just startedughing. I couldn''t help it.


    I take back every time I''ve ever said it before: I now know the exact moment that my life got so fucking weird, and that moment is now.

 Chapter 97: The Sink

    Chapter 97: The Sink


    Cautiously, I stepped out of the elevator and back into... well... I guess this ce is called The Sink, isn''t it? I had to shake my head. Why "The Sink?" Who would name an apartment after a kitchen appliance?


    And then, I stopped in my tracks. Of all the insane happenings that have transpired in thest fifteen minutes or so, THAT is what I''m gonna take issue with? I shook my head and started chuckling softly to myself.


    Right, forget the name. Time to get they of thend here. I stepped up to the circr table in the center of the room right in front of me. The table was sitting up on a slightly raised hexagon shape set into the floor, and when I looked around, I realized the hexagon in the floor continued informing the shape of the rest of the room - and probably beyond. Apart from the elevators I just entered from, there were three other doors - one to my left, one to my right, and one right in front on the other side of the table, with a sign above the door proiming that it led onto a balcony.


    I looked back down at the circr table, and quickly found the slot underneath a small keypad that was precisely the right shape for the chip in my hand. I leaned against the circr table, and was about to install it... and then I tossed both it and the sonic gun onto the table with a tter.


    That can wait. Let''s have a look around first. But where to go? Hmmm... Eenie, meenie, miney, moe. Alright, right it is then.


    I found myself in the same room where I''d woken up. My eyes fell on the couch at one end, and then I turned to look at -


    Hang on. That wall hadn''t been empty before. I was absolutely sure that there had been a slide show being... projected... I looked back, up over the couch, and realized there was no projector either. The wall was bare; metallic grey and empty.


    Had I just imagined it? That slideshow? Was it just a hallucinated after effect of the... of the procedure? I shook my head and dragged my hands across both side of my face. Fuck me, was I losing my...


    Heh.


    Ah-heh, heh.


    I guess there was no question about <em>losing</em> my mind. It had already been clearly established that my mind was already <em>lost</em>. I let out a few more chuckles before collecting what little sanity I had left, and kept going.


    There wasn''t much else in this room, beyond the couch. There was an old-world jukebox: it was practically pristine, almost like it had been plucked from the world before the bombs, and then deposited against the far wall between a pair of doors. In a corner next to me (and to the left of the couch) there was a small kitchte - an eat-o-matic set into the wall, a sink, a cooktop, a tiny stove, that sort of thing.


    The only real peculiarity about that corner was the toaster. I almost didn''t pay it any mind, but I absentmindedly gave it a poke as I passed; I fully expected it to topple over, but it stayed still as a stone. Even stranger, I noticed on closer inspection that it had been <em>bolted</em> to the counter... and were those cables connecting it to the wall? That wasn''t a power cord either, it was a big, tightly-woven conduit of wires.


    That''s odd.


    I shook it off and kept going. The door to the right of the jukebox led into a small, butfortable, one-person bedroom. A bed, a metal dresser, a metal wardrobe, a metal footlocker at the end of the bed. There were a few shelves set into the wall, a desk set against one wall. But, like the other room, there were peculiarities.


    Alright, let''s be honest with ourselves here: I felt like I was losing my marbles already. Seeing a tiny, one-foot-high securitron model standing in a corner and plugged into the wall wasn''t really helping making a good case for my sanity.


    The other strange thing was the poster. Mounted on the wall directly above the bed was an old-world movie poster. I had to do a double take when I noticed it, because the centerpiece of the poster was... it was...


    It looked like ED-E.


    No, wait. No, it was just an eyebot. Who knows how many of those things were made before the War. Besides, there were subtle differences in the design, quite apart from the patch-job on his side made out of a license te. The antennae were spaced differently (and there weren''t quite as many of them), and the speaker-grille on the front was a slightly different shape. Not to mention that the weapon underneath lookedpletely different.


    "Ralphie the Robot''s Incredible Odyssey..." I said aloud reading the title. On either side of the eyebot were the faces of two people, looking off in opposite directions. On the right was a small boy - maybe 6 or 7, maybe older. On the left was a very old looking man wearing a peaked military cap, an old-world army general''s uniform, and possessing of an immactely and very precisely trimmed mustache.


    I stared at the poster for a minute or two, wondering what it was even <em>doing</em> here. Then I moved on. Hell, if I was lucky, there might be a copy on holotape somewhere around here. I bet ED-E would love something like that when I...


    ... if I get back.


    That thought was not really all thatforting. And the room to the left of the jukebox sobered me up even more. It was dark, and there were only three things inside: three tanks. Suspended in the same kind of colored-fluid bio-gel that suspended the brains of the Think Tank inside their robot chassis were organs. <em>My</em> organs. My spine was in the tank on the far left, my heart was in the tank on the far right. As for the tank in the center, however...


    Nothing.


    I moved on quickly, my skin crawling at the sight. Just don''t think about it. Just don''t think about it. Don''t panic, you''ll be fine.


    I was back in the central room with the circr table. I took in a few more details as I passed through to the other side; set against one wall and slightly out of sight was a small alcove. Inside the alcove was a metal... tube? Coffin? It looked big enough to hold a body, surely, and there was a door on it. On the door was a medical symbol - two snaked wrapping themselves around a cane. That must be an Auto-Doc of some kind. Probably <em>the</em> Auto-Doc responsible for...


    Don''t think about it.


    On the other side of the room I could see a small workshop; it surrounded either side of the door that led to the balcony. There was a workbench, a wall of tools hanging on a small peg-board, a vice, several metal boxes and shelves, a reloading bench... not a bad setup, really. It all looked brand new, as well. I couldn''t tell if everything worn out had just been reced, or if it had just never been touched in the first ce.


    I walked through the "left" door, the only one that was really... heh, left. Inside was a... I was at a loss. The room seemed to have been filled with empty nters, connected to each other by a snaking pipe that went all the way around the room. Was this a greenhouse? No, no... even I knew that you needed ss walls to let the sunlight in for a greenhouse. Garden? No, this space felt... it was <em>clinical</em>, just like the rest of The Sink. This ce felt like a workshop, just for nts. Some kind of scienceb. Made sense, really, with all the mad scientists around.


    Thatboratory feeling was further reinforced by therge mainframe that dominated one wall of this roompletely. It was deactivated, but I could see several monitors, lights, and control panels that obviously lit up whenever it was connected to... whatever it needed to be connected to.


    Another curiosity: against the wall closest to the door was a sink. A sink in <em>The</em> Sink. Made sense, surely, but it was the wires that caught my eye. These were almost identical to the kind of wires that connected the toaster in the other room to the wall. But... why would a sink be wired up to... something?


    I was about to turn on my heel and leave when I saw onest doorway. This one led into an obvious bathroom. I was just about to go in, but... I hesitated.


    If it was a bathroom, then it was bound to have a mirror. I grimaced, touching the scar on my chest through the patient gown I was still wearing. I was going to have to assess the damage eventually. Might as well get it over with. I gulped heavily, and undid the knotted strings on the cotton garment, tossing it aside.


    Like the rest of The Sink, the bathroom was small, utilitarian, and very metallic. Everything from the shower to the toilet to the sink to the drain in the floor looked like it had been made from stainless steel. And sure enough, above the sink... was a mirror. I strode up, naked as a baby, gripped the edges of the sink as tight as I could... and looked up.


    My head had been shaved, just like I''d deduced from touch earlier, but... for some reason, they''d left my beard. If they were going toe at me with the razor, why not take everything? Even so, the shaved head and surgical scars reminded me a lot of Christine. However, there was a major difference: whereas Christine''s scars were jagged and uneven, mine were... very precise. The cuts into my head looked like they''d been both made and stitched up by a much steadier hand.


    I ran a finger along the scar; it wasn''t a level ring around my head. They''d had the decency to trace my hairline when making the cut. If I were to let my hair grow out, it would hide the scar almostpletely. As my hands followed the surgical scar, my fingers brushed past another scar. The 9mm entry wound from the bullet that pierced my now-missing brain.


    I turned my head, trying to get a look at... no, it was no good. I''d have to find another mirror somewhere if I wanted to get a look at the back of my own head. I could feel some metallic pieces sticking out of my flesh where my skull met my... where my spine <em>should''ve</em> been.


    I looked closer, running a hand against the scar in the middle of my chest and realized something else: all the minor cuts and bruises from my fight with Veronica were simply <em>gone</em>. Hadn''t Arcade said that the bruising would remain for a while? Hell, the only scars (apart from the surgical ones) left were really old. Had they fixed my injuries while removing my brain, or...


    How long had I been <em>out</em>?


    I stood there for a few minutes, clutching the edge of the sink with one hand so tightly that my knuckles burned white, and continued examining the surgical scars with the other. And then...


    I startedughing.


    It was hysterical. It was hrious. It was ludicrous. Everything in this ce was justpletely nuts. It had crossed the line so many times that the absurdity of the whole situation - and it was truly absurd - all of it just struck me at once. So, I busted upughing. I wasughing so much that I started to get lightheaded - which didn''t make sense. I didn''t have a brain or spine anymore, so how could that even work? And that just made meugh harder. Tears started streaming down my face, I wasughing so hard. I only stoppedughing when I needed to draw breath.


    I fell to my knees, lifted the toilet seat, and heaved.


    Click.


    The chip slid firmly into ce, and the central table began toe to life with an electric hum. Lights came on all along the sides, the edges, and under the keys on the keypad. They steadily grew brighter, and a blue grid-pattern of light materialized on top of the table. The humming grew to a louder, higher, and altogether more fevered pitch, and then -


    Ding!


    "Salutations and felicitations, sir," I heard a voice from several speakers all around me, but I knew at once that it was originallying from the central console. "A most jocund wee to The Sink. I am your electronic Valet and household central processor. How may I be of service, sir?" As the voice spoke in a very precise, clearly enunciated British ent, several bars began to materialize in the air above the table grid. They looked like the same kind of holograms as the ones I''d seen in the Sierra Madre, and the bars rose and fell with every syble.


    "Uh..." I started to speak, but was so dumbfounded by this device''s incredibly formal response, that it took a few seconds for me to rally properly. "Are you some kind of artificial intelligence?"


    "Regrettably not, sir," it said. "All modules in this habitat are synthetic personalities, constructed atop a mundane operating system." The machine paused, and then added: "There is no intelligence here, sir."


    "Okay," I said, stifling backughter. "So, are you some kind of butler, or -"


    "<strong>Valet</strong>." the machine said forcefully, and then quickly adding: "Sir. While this domicile does possess an array of tiny robots responsible for maintenance, upkeep, and day to day inconveniences as they arise, I do not control their actions directly, and as such, I am not a ''butler''," The machine seemed to spit out the word with obvious contempt. "I am your personal Valet, which means that I only have one charge: you. Consider me a gentleman''s robotic gentleman."


    "So, it''s pronounced val-<em>et</em>?" I said, pronouncing it the same way the robot had. "I always thought it was val-<em>ay</em>."


    "No, sir. Val<em>-ay</em>," the robot said, mimicking me. "is something you do to a <em>car</em>."


    "Fair enough," I said with a smile. "Sorry if I offended."


    "That is quite alright, sir. It is a regrettable side-effect of the turbulent times and troubled days in which we live, sir, that such distinctions are lost to many, sir."


    "Alright... so, what do I call you?" For a moment, the table grew quiet - although the holographic, blue-colored bars seemed to work in overtime.


    "Sir?" the machine finally said, confusion evident in its synthetic voice.


    "Do you have a name? I can''t just call you ''the Sink Central Intelligence,'' and ''S-C-I'' doesn''t really flow off the tongue..." Not like ED-E, I thought to myself. "So, who are you?"


    "I regret to inform sir that sir is the first to have asked me such a question. As it stands, sir, I am myself, but it is highly inappropriate for me to subjectively define who ''I'' am, sir. It is my understanding that I would take the means to test the veracity of any such definition, sir, and therefore, restraints have been ced within me restricting such an act, sir. However, sir, I have just located a file in my databanks with a crafted response specifically designed for the eventuality of ''sir asking me my name''." The robot was silent for a moment, the bars still working in overtime.


    "Well?" I finally asked, getting a little impatient with the silence.


    "You may call me Jeeves, sir."


    "Alright then, Jeeves," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "The Think Tank downstairs seems to think that there are other personality-whats-it chips around. Do you know where they are?"


    "Roughly, yes, sir," Jeeves said, the bars above the table flickering slightly as he spoke. "But, if I may make so bold, sir, I couldn''t advise retrieving them."


    "Couldn''t advise it?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "Why not?"


    "The other modules are rather..." Jeeves paused, the blue bars shifting color slightly "Erratic, sir. Their personality matricies are built on wed logic and have not weathered the years well, sir. If sir were to ask my opinion, I should venture that sir is better off without them. However, if sirs aim is to inflict upon sirs self their rather dubious services, then I regret to inform sir that most have been offline for some years."


    "Yeah, Klein said" yelled "as much downstairs. Something about throwing them off the balcony?"


    "Indeed, sir," Jeeves said. "As I am to understand it, sir might be able to locate backup personality chips at these points elsewhere in the facility."


    The scene on the top of the table shifted instantly. The bars which moved with Jeeves'' speech vanished into thin air, and a map materialized in its ce, slowly rising until it became an obvious representation of the surrounding area. The entirety of the map was confined to the interior of arge crater, in the center of which was a dome-structure. Above the dome was a floating arrow pointing directly to it, with arge "YOU ARE HERE."


    That was handy.


    All around the crater, I could see blue holographic buildings and... were those pathways or pipelines? Tunnels? Who knows. A series of red dots appeared in various points all around the map. At the north end of the crater, half-in and half-out, was another dome like the one in the center, highlighted in red instead of blue.


    "I''m guessing that''s the Forbidden Zone, yes?" I asked, pointing at the red dome.


    "Indeed, sir," was Jeeves'' only reply.


    "And all these other little red dot things - these are the chips?"


    "Thest known locations of the chips, yes sir. Sirs power of deduction is truly beyondpare." I felt like I was talking with Yes Man. I looked over the map, trying to memorize every detail.


    "Why so many?" I asked, counting them out. There appeared to be nine in total.


    "As I am given to understand, sir, this domicile was once the private residence and property of a Dr. Mobius. He crafted the personality modules as part of a collection of experiments on the subject of machine / human interface," I noted with a wry sense of amusement that he actually <em>said</em> sh. "As to the reason for the... <em>unusual</em> choices of devices to receive the modules, I cannot say."


    "Alright, fair enough," I said, finally remembering that I had a Pip Boy on my arm and started marking the locations on the map. "So, what about the other things the Think Tank wanted me to get, the stuff I need to get into the Forbidden Zone?" Where my brain is being kept...


    "The X-2 Transmitted Antennae array, the Psycho-Analytic Cardiac-Dampening Sneaky Stealth suit, and the audio module for the Sonic-Soundwave-Emitter-Projecto-Gun, sir?" Jeeves ratteled off the names like he was reading from a shopping list. "Certainly, sir." The red dots on the holographic map vanished, and were reced by threepletely different dots.


    "Thanks, Jeeves," I said, marking those locations on my wristputer as well. "Oh, there was one other thing I wanted to ask. When I was..." kidnapped "...brought here, I had a lot of gear. Guns, armor, ammunition, and so forth. Where is it?"


    "It is my understanding," Jeeves said "that sirs weaponry and other personal effects were removed from sirs person by tiny robots in preparation for surgery, and those same tiny robots delivered them forthwith to this very domicile. It is my understanding that sir my find them located in the footlocker positioned at the foot of sirs bed."


    "Well, that''s a relief," I said with a sigh I didn''t try and hold back. "I thought for a minute there I''d have to venture out into the crater with nothing to protect my-" manhood "-dignity but this stupid cloth dress."


    "That would indeed be a rather unfortunate and thoroughly embarrassing turn of events, sir," Jeeves agreed. "Will that be all, sir?"


    "Yes, that''ll be all," I said absentmindedly, walking over to the bedroom. "Thank you, Jeeves."


    "Very good, sir."


    The absolute first thing I did when I opened the footlocker and found everything inside was to get my armor back on. Oh sure, it felt nice to get some airflow down there for a change of pace, but I felt a million times less vulnerable once I''d strapped into all the armor. To say nothing of how d I felt to no longer be naked.


    I tossed the armored duster over the back of the chair and started taking stock of everything I''d brought with me,ying it out on the bed. I''d just grabbed the closest and biggest weapons in the trunk when I decided to investigate the satellite, so I wasn''t actually sure of what all I had with me.


    I shook my head and chuckled; I still sometimes marveled at how many weapons I could - and did - carry, but time and time again, the necessity of overwhelmingly superior firepower proved useful. And life saving.


    There was Roscoe, of course. I''d probably end up being buried with that gun. Hopefully, that event wouldn''t happen anytime soon. Speaking of That Gun, it was here too, next to Roscoe, as was the Ranger Sequoia and the sawed-off double barrel shotgun I kept on my left hip. Mybat knife wasying next to the pistols and shotgun; the de itself was still sharp, but it no longer had a point. The end had been sheared off after retrieving it from Veronica''s now ruined power fist - breaking off the end was the only way to dislodge it. Next to thebat knife was a much smaller boot knife, my switchde, the butterfly knife I stole from the legion assassin in Gomorrah, and my pair of brass knuckles.


    There was the G36c, which I still hadn''t given a name to yet, despite its faithful service. There was the MP5, the marksman carbine, the 12.7mm SMG, aser rifle, the Holorifle... and my anti-materiel rifle. That huge rifle just all on its own dominated a full fourth of the bed. I had to wonder - what was I <em>thinking</em>? I''d had so many weapons strapped to my back, how had I even expected to <em>move</em>, much less fight?


    The major downside of all these guns - apart from how cumbersome it would be to carry them all - is that the only real ammunition I had for them was whatever was in the magazines at the time. Oh, sure, there were a few more mags for Roscoe, since I always carried extra 9mm magazines, but a fat lot of good THAT would do if things went sideways. I would definitely have to be sparing with ammunition for the time being. At least until I could figure out the situation properly, and figure out where I could get more.


    On the plus side, I did have plenty of grenades. At least six frags, a pair of shbangs, two sma grenades, two pulse grenades, and one each of a smoke canister and myst microfusion cell grenade.


    Another plus: I still had the pulse gun. It must have still been in my duster from when I put it there after my chat with McNamara the other day, and I''d just simply forgotten about it. And given the prevalence of mad scientists and their creations, I was probably going to run into robots, so that was almost certainly going toe in handy immensely.


    All in all... not bad. Not bad for being so unprepared. I loaded myself up with all my pistols (especially the two energy pistols), the shotgun, the MP5, the holorifle, all my knives, all my grenades, and grabbed the duster off the back of the chair.


    "Alright..." I said aloud to no one in-particr as I walked to the elevator marked TO BIG MT. "Let''s see what this ce has in store..."

 Chapter 98: Woof

    Chapter 98: Woof


    Cold.


    For some odd reason, that is the thing I focused on about the Big Empty (heh... M-T... Empty... I get it) when I finally stepped outside. It wasn''t the mountains in the distance that I quickly realized were not actually mountains at all, but the lip of the crater; this ce was clearly a lot bigger than the holographic map upstairs would suggest. It wasn''t the strange, almost alien assortment of geometric shapes and sharp angles of what I could only assume were buildings in the distance. It wasn''t the boiling dark-green-grey clouds overhead that allowed pieces of the sky - which was entirely the wrong shade - to poke through. It wasn''t the slightly blue-ish tint to the soil or the concrete. And it wasn''t the patches of grass just outside the entrance to the Think Tank dome made out of turquoise stic.


    No, I decided the best course of action was to focus on how FUCKING COLD the damn ce was, holy crap! It wasn''t snowing, sure, but it was a noticeable, biting cold that got through all the armor I was wearing and chilled me to my bones. Not even Jacobstown was this cold, fuck me!


    I bristled, cupping my hands around my mouth, blowing as much hot air into them as I could, and set off. I walked along the concrete footpath for, perhaps... ten feet? Maybe? And then it just stopped.


    "... h-uh." I said aloud, looking down. I had a sneaking suspicion that the path wasn''t designed to end here. Partly because I was now looking over the edge at a small cliff, but mostly because the end of the concrete was cracked and broken like someone had taken to it with a sledgehammer.


    "Well," I sniffed, shoving my hands in my pockets. "They did say thebs sometimes get up and move around... I suppose that''s not...pletely..." I shut up, tilting my head sideways.


    Something was making noise.


    I didn''t think. I just acted. In a sh, Roscoe was out of its holster and I leapt through the air, aiming myself at the nearest source of cover in the opposite direction of the noise. As it happened, the closest piece of cover seemed to be some kind of generator - or, half of one, at least. Like the pavement, the machine (and the fence surrounding it) ended abruptly at the edge of the small cliff.


    I looked out from behind the broken and silent machine, watching and trying to see what had caused the noise...


    Four figures emerged: three men and one woman. Most of them were wearing jumpsuits (except for one of the men in the back, who was wearing a half-torn patient gown and letting the boys p in the breeze...), but they all had goggles and respirators covering their faces. It didn''t look like they were <em>wearing</em> them; if the screws were anything to go by, the facemasks were bolted to their skulls. All of them were carrying weapons. The man and woman in front were carrying bits of junk like clubs - a lead pipe and a big wrench, respectively. The man in the back with the patient gown was carrying aser pistol. Thest one was carrying what looked like an axe, but... it was strange, because the de was crackling with blueish-purple electricity.


    By all rights, they <em>looked</em> human. And yet... I could tell, somehow, that they <em>weren''t </em>human. At least, not <em>anymore</em>. Maybe it was the strange, almost animalistic way they hunched over as they moved. Maybe it was the frantic and highly audible sniffing of the one in front. I think, however, that it was perhaps the scars on their heads. They were barely visible beneath the straps, goggles, and respirators, but they all definitely had surgical scars from, say, a lobotomy.


    These must be the lobotomites that the Think Tank talked about. The poor unfortunates who''d been suckered here, somehow, and weren''t as lucky as me to keep hold of their mental faculties when their brains were scooped out.


    I can''t really exin why I did what I did next. It felt like the thing to do, at the time. I mean, logically, I should''ve remained in cover until I could figure out if these lobotomites had anything ''special'' about them (like how the Ghost People wouldn''t die unless you cut one of their limbs off). Not to mention, that axe definitely looked nasty - anything with any kind of electricity arcing off the de is bad news. I should''ve yed it safe, and not taken any stupid risks.


    But no.


    All I remember thinking was this: <em>I don''t have much ammo</em>. And then, I holstered Roscoe, pulled out the boot knife, and I ran at full tilt straight at the lobotomites.


    The next thing I knew, I''d grabbed the nearest one by the goggles and buried the knife into his neck. I kept a firm hold of the knife and kicked him square in the chest; the knife ripped the front of his throat out as he tumbled backward, crashing into two of the others and sending them all flying to the ground.


    The lobotomite in back with theser pistol let out a moaning screech and tried leveling the weapon at me. I ducked as I closed the gap, and deflected his gun arm with my Pip Boy; theser discharged wildly up in the air. I surged up,nding an uppercut directly into his jaw with a satisfying crack. At the same time, I wrapped my Pip Boy arm around the arm with theser, and tightened my grip as quick as I could until I heard the bones in his arm break. I let go of his arm and spun in ce, kneeling down, and then catching the fallingser pistol before it hit the ground. I kept spinning -ser pistol now in hand - buried the end of the weapon into his chest, and fired. He fell backward with a smoking, burning hole in the center of his chest.


    I leaned back, narrowly missing a big wrench swinging through the air. The female lobotmite stumbled as she missed me, so I grabbed her by the back of her jumpsuit and made sure she stayed off bnce just long enough... <strong>Zowntch</strong>. She fell to the ground with a smoking hole in her face.


    Thest lobotomite came at me, with that electric-axe in hand raised high above his head, and letting out that same no-longer-human screech. I didn''t even flinch. I positioned my foot underneath the big wrench in the dead female lobotomites hand and kicked; the wrench flew through the air and smacked thest lobotomite square in the face with a crack. He squealed, bringing his free hand to clutch at the mask. I casually strolled up to him, and pulled the axe out of his hands easy as you please. I twirled it around in my hand swung it through the air as hard as I could. There was an electric pop as it passed his neck and the arm still clutching at his face... and then both the head and hand detached, rolling away from the cauterized stumps.


    I honestly don''t know what came over me, but it felt... it felt <em>good</em>. All of this was just... fighting them like that, it gave me the surge of adrenaline, that rush, but it wasn''t hampered or dampened by fear. By the end of it, I was barely breathing heavy... but I was definitely <em>smiling</em>.


    I stood over the bodies of the lobotomites, hefting the axe in my hands and inspecting it closely when I heard a sound below me. The first lobotomite wasn''t quite dead, and was writhing on the ground, blood gushing out of his neck; I casually fired theser pistol into his face and went back to examining the axe. It was surprisingly light, considering the obvious batteries and capacitors on it. There was an engraving on the hilt:


    "Protonic Inversal Axe. If found, return to X-6 Proton Research Facility, BIG MT." I said, reading aloud. I found a small button underneath a cover on the hilt, and when I touched it the electricity stopped arcing, and it immediately fell silent; strangely, it also got slightly <em>heavier</em>. I nodded, chuckling a bit, and shoved it into the back of my belt.


    "Alright!" I said, pulling the energy cell out of theser pistol, and then tossing the weapon aside over my shoulder. "That was a nice, refreshing little warm up! I wonder what the <em>real</em> workout''s gonna be like?"


    "You know," I said aloud, looking up. "I could be wrong, but I think this is the ce..."


    The X-8 research facility - where I''d hopefully find the... thing needed to upgrade the sonic-projecto-whatsits (I was still a bit fuzzy on the details) - was a squat, grey building, separated from the chaos around by a raised concrete wall, two pairs of stairs leading up, and fencing that had fallen over in ces. Beyond the building itself was arge tower, topped with a (mostly) intact satellite dish, andrge rusted green pipes leading from it, and into the building. Painted on the side of the tower in big, bold, blue lettering was a highly visible "X-8."


    I started to walk up the stairs that led to the facility when I noticed something odd: the concrete wall creating the raised tform this building was sitting on was marred by several dozen tiny craters and pockmarks. I paused, raising an eyebrow as I looked at it; it almost looked like someone had gone nuts with a shotgun, or detonated some frag mines to pepper it with enough shrapnel...


    Brumph!


    That''s an odd sound.


    I immediately perked my head up, looking around, trying to find the source of the noise... especially since it had been reced by a faint whistling. I got my answer when I finally looked behind and above me - and saw a streak of smoke in the sky off in the distance, emerging from the horizon. My eyes went wide as I realized what I was looking at: an <em>artillery strike</em>.


    "What the <em>fuck</em>!?" I shouted, feverishly grabbing at the handrails and scrabbling up the stairs. In the split second I gave myself to think, I connected the dots between the artillery and the concrete peppered with shrapnel, and ran to the building; it looked like this kind of thing had happened before, and since the building was still standing, that was probably the safest spot. Maybe.


    The whistling got louder.


    I reached the top of the stairs and ran as fast as I could at the door. I punched the button next to the metal bulkhead, and it seemed to crawl open painfully slow. I dove through the open door, and mmed my open palm against the button to close the door again.


    The whole room shook. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, my teeth - everything rattled violently. For a few agonizing seconds, it felt like the vibrations were going to shake loose the recement for my spine. Then finally, thankfully, everything subsided. I slowed my breathing, and started patting myself down to make sure everything was still (more-or-less) in one piece.


    "Well, that''s a relief..." I finally said, ending the pat-down at my crotch with a sigh. I dusted myself off and started looking around, trying to get my bearings. Like so much else that I''d seen here in the Big Empty, the walls were a dull, antiseptic -


    "BARK!"


    I stopped in my tracks, utterly bewildered. That sounded like a dog, only much more... synthesized? Robotic? I wheeled around, trying to find the source, when suddenly I was, without any further warning, tackled to the ground by a very heavy mass of brown fur and grey metal.


    A cyberdog! The first thing I thought of was Rex, the King''s dog. I struggled underneath the dog''s titanic grip, and started to reach for Roscoe... and hesitated. It took me a minute, but I realized that this dog <em>wasn''t</em> actually attacking me. If the wet, slobbering thing dragging itself across my face was any indication, this dog was <em>licking</em> me.


    That''s odd.


    "Whoa, hey, calm down!" I tried to yell, spitting out dog hairs between licks. I reached for the dog''s neck, found a cor, and grabbed at it, trying to pull the damn dog off my face. Thankfully, the dog seemed to get the message and backed off... so now, all I had to deal with was a very heavy dog pinning me to the ground and panting hot air into my face.


    "I suppose I should be thankful you''re not trying to gnaw my throat out..." I said; the dog barked again loudly. I tried to get a look at the cor, see if there was any sort of nametag...


    "Hmm... the only thing it says here is ''R0-X.13.'' Hrm." I scratched my bald head. "Huh. Roxie. I like it. Pleased to meet you, puppy. I''m very d you''re not eating me."


    Roxie barked again happily.


    "Alright, now that''s out of the way, could you do me a solid and get off me?"


    Nothing''s every easy, is it?


    It didn''t take too much exploring in X-8 to discover that I couldn''t just grab the photonic-resonance-destabilization whatsits for the sonic gun, and leave. No, that would be easy! ording to the bigputer terminal I''d found, the only way to ess the upgrade was to "pass" one of the "tests" in this ce.


    Wonderful.


    On the plus side, at least I had somepany. After finally getting off me, Roxie had eagerly started bounding along next to me, and she''d followed me all the way to the big terminal. Next to the terminal was arge metal door with "TESTING AREA" stenciled on it in big, bold, white letters.


    "You ready for this, Rox?" I asked the dog after sifting through the various directions on the terminal, and eventually settling on what I hoped was the right one. Roxie barked happily. I smirked, and shook my head; great, I''m talking to dogs now. Either way, ording to the terminal, all I had to do was collect three student records from a ''high school,'' whatever that was.


    How hard could <em>that</em> be?


    I hit "execute" on the terminal - and instantly, everything started to shake. For a minute, I thought we were being hit with another artillery strike. The ground rattled, there was a hideous groaning sound of metal against metal, and then -


    Ding!


    The noise and rattling stopped instantly; it didn''t fade out like the artillery from earlier. The sound hade from the door, and as soon as it dinged, a small green light winked on above the door - and the door itself opened up. Beyond the door was... it kind of looked like one of the buildings of the Boneyard University. ck-and-white tiles on the floor, cracked fake-wood panels on the walls and pirs, a trophy case on the far end of the room... It certainly fit the ''school'' part of the name. But what made it ''high?'' Was it because of the observation windows set into the upper part of the wall near the really high ceiling? Those were pretty high...


    "ATTENTION STUDENTS!" A voice bellowed over the loudspeakers as soon as Roxie and I stepped through the threshold; the door mmed shut behind us. "This is the pre-recorded voice of your pre-recorded principal: Doctor-Principal BOROUS!"


    "Oh for fuck sake..." I said with augh, clutching my head. Roxie let out a "Rurr?" and cocked her head, confused.


    "You may know me as the Head Chief First Researcher of Labs Z-9 and Z-14!" The voice continued over the loudspeakers. I tried to ignore him. "There I fought valiantly to preserve rattlesnake DNA, and put it right where it belongs: in the husk of another feared predator!" There were two doors in this room; one right in front of me, and one off to my right. "Oh, and the tarant hawk. Can''t splice enough, I always say! Especially if you can make a magnificent Cazador!" Eenie, meenie, miney, moe. Right it is then. "Enough about ME. It hase to my attention that many of you SEEMINGLY innocent children have been subverted by RED PROPAGANDA!"


    "What the fuck is he going on about?" I asked as Roxie and I headed down the hall. The walls were lined with lockers, and at the end of the hall I could see the faint blue glow of a force field. When I got to the end of the hall, I decided to take a closer look. It looked a bit like the same kind of force fields I''d encountered in the Sierra Madre''s vault. I pressed a hand against it; yep, it was the same kind of thing. The blue energy glowed beneath my hand, and kept me from going through it. It still almost felt like ss. Even though it was a slightly familiar sensation, it was still weird.


    "This is a MOST serious matter requiring the MOST serious of detentions!" the recorded voice of Borous continued over the speakers. "Can you spell detention? I''ll tell you have I spell it: DEATHtention! Commie-pinko-traitors, ALL! Now, I will send vicious cybeic police cyberdogs through the corridors to weed all you traitors out!"


    "Wait, what?" I said aloud, finally paying attention long enough to catch something important.


    I heard them before I saw them. I wheeled around, and at the end of the adjacent hall were a pair of cyberdogs, bounding toward us and snarling and spitting. Unlike any other cyberdogs I''d seen before, the lights underneath their brains were changing color - shing quickly between red and blue. I reached behind me, trying to grab one of the energy pistols when suddenly the dog in the lead barked...


    WHAM!


    A wave of shimmering blue energy hit me like a freight train, shoving me backward into the force field with a crash. Okay, that was unexpected. I slid down the slippery force field, my hands unable to find any grip, and I shook my vision clear just in time to see the cyberdog leaping through the air at me. Its mouth was wide open with a slobbery snarl. As quick as I could, I wrapped my fingers around the pulse gun''s grip, brought the pistol to bear on the leaping cyberdog, slipped into V.A.T.S., and fired. The burst of energy from the pulse gun hit the dog square in the mouth, and it locked up, right in the middle of its jump.


    I pushed off against the floor, and side-stepped just in time; the dog sailed through the air, stiff as a board, and smashed face-first into the forcefield. It crumbled into a twitching heap of sparking metal and fur. I scanned the room with the pistol still raised, trying to find the other cyberdog.


    "... h-uh." I lowered the pistol as I surveyed the grisly sight in front of me. "Well, that makes things easier." The other police cyberdog was sprawled out on the floor, with a huge bloody chunk missing from its neck; I knew it was the police cyberdog because the brain dome was still flicking erratically between red and blue. Roxie was hunched over the dead cyberdog, with bits of meat hanging out of her mouth. She looked over at me, spat out the meat on the floor, and barked up at me happily. Blood mixed with the drool in her mouth, and dripped in globs onto the floor.


    "...especially YOU, Betsy Bright!" I heard Borous'' voice again, now that themotion had died down. "You turned me down for the high school dance so you could smoke with RICHIE MARCUS!"


    "Aw, fuck, he''s still going on, isn''t he?" I sighed, gripping the pulse gun as I walked down the hall.


    "Hall Monitors will also be vignt!" Borous continued. "Step outside during ss, and they''ll make sure you make a speedy jump back to your desk. Hold your urine and wait for the PROPER bathroom break time!"


    "Hall monitors?" I asked aloud. "The fuck does he mean by hall mo- WHOA!" I turned the corner - and dove back into cover behind the corner as quick as I could, because in the middle of the next hall was unmistakably a <emser turret</em>. A second or two after I saw it, a fuside ofser sts cut through the air, impacting the lockers on the other side of the wall and turning the metal into molten g.


    "Hurm..." I looked at the pulse gun in my hands. "Wonder if this thing works against turrets..." Without any further hesitation, I grabbed the edge of the wall, kicked off against the handle of one of the wall lockers, andunched myself through the air; the world slowed down from V.A.T.S. and I managed to squeeze off two bursts from the pulse gun. The world sped up, I tucked into myself, and rolled out of the view of the turret. By the time I got back on my feet, I heard the turret explode in the other hall. Pieces of fiery, sparking shrapnel slid across the floor.


    "Well, that answers that!" I said with a smile, twirling the pistol around my finger several times.


    "Down at the end of the hall is BALL storage! For JOCKS! Who like BALLS! Like RICHIE MARCUS!" Borous voice echoed when I got to thest part of the test... high school... maze... thing. "Do you hear me, Betsy Bright? RICHIE. LIKES. BALLS."


    "You know," I sighed, snapping off three pulse gun shots at the two cyberdogs and the protectron robot at the end of the hall. "I''m beginning to think his obsession with high school may be a bit unhealthy..." I ejected the spent energy cell cartridge, and grabbed a fresh one, walking by the robot still twitching on the floor. So far, I''d run into a dozen cyberdogs, a few more of those ''hall monitor'' turrets, two protectrons (including the one I''d just fried), and a trio of lobotomites in the library.


    Thatst one was a surprise, to be sure, but all in all, it was pretty easy.


    I''d found two of the ''student records'' already, and I was really having a hard time believing that something so stupidly pointless was actually going to lead to something useful. The first one was "Betsy Bright''s Disciplinary Records," and the one in the library was "Cherie O''Bannon''s After-School Schedule." And then, at the end of the hall in the roombeled "Ball Storage" was a terminal with "Richie ''Ball-Lover'' Marcus'' Midterm Grades."


    "English: F-minus..." I read aloud, plugging my Pip Boy into the terminal. "Math: F-minus. History: F-minus. Science: F-minus-minus." I snorted out augh, shaking my head. "Yep... this is definitely a bit unhealthy." Roxie barked out her agreement as I unplugged my Pip Boy.


    Finally, the end of this stupid, ridiculous test was in sight - literally. There it was at the end of the hall: a set of double doors with a big glowing "EXIT" sign on top.


    Of course, it wasn''t the <em>actual</em> exit. Why would it be? That would be easy. When Roxie and I stepped through the doors, we found ourselves in aboratory quite unlike the ''high school'' we''d just left. And I''m not just saying that because the doors mmed shut behind us automatically. The walls were lined with diagrams, blueprints, schematics, chalkboards with half-erased equations... at one end of the room was a terminal, and in the middle was table with a hologram emitter in the center, projecting a slowly spinning three-dimensional image of a bright blue minigun of some sort.


    "Oh my!" Borous voice sounded over the speakers again. "You made it through the High School portion of the test!"


    "For the love of..." I grumbled. "I thought the pre-recorded voices were finished."


    "No, no," Borous responded over the loudspeaker. "It''s really me. Hello again! None of us thought you would make it this far!"


    "Your confidence in my abilities is overwhelming." I deadpanned. "Truly heartwarming. I think I might weep."


    "Yes, we thought so! Keep up the good work - and recover those technologies! FOR SCIENCE!" The speakers clicked off, and I was left with glorious silence. I shook my head and went to examine the terminal. If the test wasn''t done, maybe it would have something useful on it. Hell, maybe it would have the schematics for the sonic gun, and I could just leave! Wouldn''t that be nice?


    Nope.


    What I did find on the terminal was... not what I was expecting. It was a series of log entries - emails between departments here at Big MT from before the bombs - detailing an incident that took ce in ab somewhere called X-12. One of the people working there had been wearing something called a ''Y-17 Trauma Harness,'' and died before he could take it off. ording to the terminal, the suit <em>itself</em> kept functioning, and once he kicked, the suit got up and started attacking people. With the dead body still trapped inside.


    It didn''t take long for me to put two and two together.


    "The Ghost People..." I said aloud, thinking back to the Madre. "This... this is where they came from, isn''t it?" It made a bit of sense. All the Ghost People wore those damn chemical suits...


    I''d have to be careful. No telling how many of those Y-17-Ghost People-Trauma Harness-thingamajigs were floating around out here.


    I kept reading. Apparently, the people here at thisb had been working on something called a "K-9000 Cyberdog Gatling Gun," and had sent it over to try and help with the Trauma Harness situation. Unfortunately, the n backfired. The Harness thing got hold of the gun, so the scientists bolted, and locked both it and the gun inside X-12, behind several forcefields.


    I looked over my should at the spinning hologram... and smiled.


    "Well, maybe I''ll pay a visit to X-12 once I upgrade the sonic." I said to myself. "Seems like it''d be a worthwhile outing..."


    I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts by the sound of Roxie barking.


    "Roxie?" I said, trying to follow the barks. "Y''alright? What is it, girl?" I found the cyberdog in the next room, sitting in front of arge te ss window and pawing at it. I walked close to get a look insi-


    What.


    Beyond the window was a small, dimly lit, smoky room. There was arge hexagonal poker table sitting in the middle of the room, lined with green felt and covered in ying cards and poker chips,plete with ashtrays and drinks at each spot. What made me stop dead in my tracks was <em>what</em> was paying:


    Dogs.


    Five cyberdogs were sitting around the poker table, and were clearly ying poker. And I don''t mean it looked like they were ying because they were sitting around it, I mean they were actually ying. Each dog was holding a hand - er, <em>paw</em>, I guess - of cards. As I looked in, one of the dogs leaned down and startedpping at his drink. The dog closest to the window even had a lit cigar hanging out of his mouth.


    When I leaned closer to the window, all five dogs stopped and stared at me. The dog smoking the cigar, especially - the gel in his tank flickered as he narrowed his eyes at me, let out a puff of smoke from his nostrils... and then all five dogs turned back to the card game.


    "Please present proof ofpletion to continue." A robotic voice chirped when I approached the terminal. It was next to a door marked "TESTING AREA R-1" with faded and cracked spray paint. I pulled out the cord on my Pip Boy and plugged it into the terminal; in a sh, both screens flicked quickly in sync, until the three student records I''d found were brought to the forefront.


    "Credentials epted." Theputer chimed again right before I unplugged the cord. "Wee to the Residential Cyberdog Guard Test. Warning: The parameters for this test are currently iplete. Beware of dog."


    "Beware of dog?" I repeated aloud. I didn''t get an answer. Instead, I just got more of that horrible, hideous shaking. I grabbed hold of the wall to try and steady myself just in time for it to stop, and be reced by a green light above the door and a -


    Ding!


    "For fuck sake..." I shook my head, walking through the open door... and my foot creaked against wooden nks. I looked down, and sure enough: wood. Roxie let out a single, worried sounding bark as we entered the darkened, cavernous room. The entrance had been modeled to look like a one story house, and all around was a halfway fenced-in yard that had a few patches of grass, but was mostly dirt. Most of the fence posts were either broken or missingpletely. Off to the side, I could see a pic table that was broken in half.


    "The Residential Test..." Borous voice echoed over an unseen loudspeaker, somewhere in the ceiling. "Wasn''t that shut down for some reason?"


    "I got a bad feeling about this..." I tossed the pulse gun into my left hand, and pulled Roscoe out of his holster. Roxie, on the other hand, swished past me quickly, sniffing the ground frantically. I looked at the darkness surrounding me, a vague sense of paranoia tugging at me. I had the nasty feeling I was being watched...


    "Ohhhh yes!" Borous continued. "Now I remember! My PET, Gabe! I''d forgotten about the old boy and all the COUNTLESS experiments I''d done on him back at Higgs Vige! Gaaaabe? Gabe, you''re about to have your FAVORITE treat - a VISITOR! Won''t that be nice?"


    A low, heavy growling echoed off the walls. I kept looking around, trying to find the source. Somewhere, off in one of the corners, Roxie was rooting around in the dirt near the pic table. I had no idea what she was doing, and honestly had better things to worry about at the moment.


    "DON''T eat the visitor, boy! Don''t! Please?" Borous didn''t sound all that confident in his powers of persuasion.


    I saw a pair of glinting eyes from within one of the darkest patches just in front of me. The growling mixed with the unmistakable sound of huge snapping jaws... bigger than any dog should''ve been...


    "Gabe would bark and snarl and bite whenever ANYONE came to visit!" Borous continued, clearly oblivious to the sounds and sights in the test. "That''s why I reced his legs with spare parts and fed him a steady diet of Psychoced dog chow! Gaaaabe! I <em>am</em> sorry I put your brain in a bowl, boy! Oohhh, who''s a good boy? You are! Yes, YOU are!"


    Thud.


    The first paw stepped out of the darkness and into the light. A huge metal foot, easily as big as I was, hit the ground and shook the room. An absolutely enormous, only vaguely canine head made out of a patchwork of fur and metal emerged from the shadows. It was tipped with arge wet nose, and with a glowing ss dome on top of his skull (apparently) housing his brain. The massive cyberdog towered over me, his teeth as big as steak knives,plete with drool oozing out of his snarling mouth in huge globr puddles.


    "Woof," I muttered, apanied by a smattering of some nervousughter. The giant dog slowly advanced, staring at me with huge, hungry eyes.


    "Now," Borous voice continued, stillpletely oblivious. "Let the intruder have the Sonic Emitter schematics! Klein wants it, all right, boy? Let the intruder dig it up wherever you buried it!"


    Obviously, Gabe wasn''t paying attention. At that moment, he reared back and let out a deafening bark, pushing off the ground with enough force that the whole room shook again. I started running, wildly firing both pistols in my hands at the massive dog leaping at me. It''s not like I could miss the fucking thing, could I?


    Gabended paws-first directly where I''d been seconds earlier; his massive jaw snapped around one of the wooden posts holding up the roof of the fake-house. The post snapped like a toothpick. He was huge, but he wasn''t all that fast. I could use that to my advantage.


    But these pea shooters weren''t doing jack. I can''t imagine any of Roscoe''s shots were getting through the <em>fur</em>, much less the metal, and I saw the pulse st from the other pistol just dissipate into nothing but blue gas and scattered blue sparks after smashing into the dog''s side.


    I had no idea where Roxie was. Honestly, I wasn''t really thinking about that. I kept running away from the growling behemoth behind me, holstering the pistols as I went. I leapt onto one of the broken pic table halves, and kicked off, diving into a roll, hitting the ground behind one of the other fences. Gabe barked loud enough to shake the cavern - or was he leaping at me again?


    I got back up on my feet and reached behind me as I turned to face the giant Frankenstein''s monster-dog. Sure enough, the dog had stepped on what was left of the pic table, smashing it to splinters, and his muzzle was low to the ground; obviously, he''d tried to bite at me and missed again.


    I kicked off one of the metal pirs near the edge of the cavernous room, and shrugged my shoulder; I grabbed hold of the falling Holorifle as I ran, leaping back over the fence... and aimed myself directly at Gabe.


    The dog snapped at air again, shifting his massive bulk in my general direction. Any other time, I probably would''ve been caught off guard and knocked t on my ass. But to be honest? I was actually <em>counting</em> on it. The dog was low enough and I was close enough that I grabbed hold of a giant tuft of fur on its side, and pulled myself up with all my strength; one of my feet found traction against arge metal joint on his back leg, and that was all I needed to swing myself up and onto his back.


    There''s a bar in a ce called Rock Springs, Wyoming, called the <em>Broken Spoke. I</em>n it, they have this thing called a ''mechanical bucking brahmin.'' You sit on the damn thing, and you have to see how long you can stay put before it throws you off. Most people fall after two or three seconds. As far as I know, the record is 16 seconds - held by yours truly.


    Trying to hang onto Gabe''s back was a bit like that.


    As soon as Inded, he made it very, very hard for me to stay put. He started bucking and writhing and jumping all over the ce, trying to shake me off like a bad case of fleas. But I didn''t let go. I held onto the fur on his back with a grip like a vice, wrapping my legs as tightly around his midsection as I could, and leveled the holorifle directly at the back of his braincase. And even though every second threatened to throw me off the giant beast, I was able to appreciate one speck of humor in the whole situation:


    For asrge as the brain dome was, the brain inside was very, very small.


    I pressed the barrel of the holorifle up against the ss and pulled the trigger. There was a clunk and a blue sh, followed by a spray of tiny cubes shooting off in every direction... and then Gabe stopped trying to throw me off. It was like someone had thrown a switch, and he just stopped working. The dog''s shoulders slumped, and he crashed into the ground; his muzzle skidded along the ground for several feet. With a whimper, the rest of his body followed soon after, and his body copsed against the ground with a heavy thud.


    I slid off the giant dead dog; the cracked and broken brain case was smoking, and leaking fluid. The light inside had gone out. I pumped the holorifle, ejecting one of the spent microfusion cells, and prepared for the worst. This thing was more machine than dog. For all I knew, it would have some method ofing back to life, and I''d have to kill it again...


    As it turned out, the problem I had to deal with was much worse.


    "Gabe!" Borous voice sounded over the loudspeaker again. "No! His cyberdoggy atomic core! It''s ACTIVE! That means an exceedingly IMPRECISE countdown to critical failure in..."


    My eye twitched.


    "FUCK!" I shouted, vaulting over the enormous canine. Atomic core... critical failure... this could only end badly. I hit the ground and started running for the door...


    "Ten!" It wasn''t Borous this time. It was Doctor O. "Borous! Why did you install an atomic core? It''ll blow when it reaches one, right?"


    I was maybe two or three paces away from the exit when I stopped cold, and I realized something: the whole point ofing here was to get the new frequency for the sonic gun - but I <em>still</em> didn''t have it! FUCK!


    "Nine." D''s calm voice sounded over the speaker. "All will be fine.


    I wheeled around, trying to figure out where the frequency might be. There weren''t all that many ces it could hide. Hell, everything was broken anyway because of the giant dog...


    **[$((*#8#%]**


    Wait! Didn''t Borous say something about it being buried? I looked around as quick as I could, trying to find any patches of dirt that looked like they''d been disturbed not by a fight, but by the dog having buried something in the ground...


    "<strong>SEVEN!</strong>" Klein''s yelling voice boomed over the speakers. "<strong>YES! SEVEN!</strong>"


    I went from pile to pile, overturning the dirt as quickly as I could - hell, I felt like I was practically punching the ground, trying to get the dirt out of the way...


    "SIX!" Borous'' voice came over the speakers again. "Halfway to destruction, measured in clicks!"


    I found a whole lot in the few precious seconds I had to check - a half chewed bone, a cracked bowl, half a dozen baseballs...


    "Five by five..." Doctor O spoke up again. "Someone''sing in live..."


    Fuck it. I can''t find it, and I don''t have any more time. I need to leave. Hell, I should''ve left the first chance I got.


    "FOUR!" An ragged, maniacal voice came over the speakers. "As in 4-BIDDEN! Do you hear me Think Tank? It is I, DOCTOR MOBIUS! And I am hacking your frequenoscity!"


    Son of a bitch.


    The air crackled around me. It wasn''t the atomic core starting to go off. It looked like blue lightning suddenly appearing out of nowhere. I knew what this was. I''d seen it before. This was the same lightning that was generated by the device that sent me back to the Mojave in the bunker outside of the Sierra Madre - Elijah''s <em>teleporter</em>.


    I didn''t want to stay to find out what was teleporting in.


    "Mobius?!" Doctor O yelled frantically, worry evident in his voice. "Uh... three as in we... as in we are in trouble." He paused. "That didn''t rhyme."


    More lightning appeared, ripping up the air all around me with the smell of ozone. I ran with all my might at the door, trying to miss the spatial distortions warping and twisting the air all around me.


    "<strong>TWO!</strong>" Klein yelled again. "<strong>AS IN TOO LATE!</strong>"


    I mmed into the door with my shoulder, and punched the button to open it. Maybe my senses were running at super-speed, but the door crawled open like a snail.


    "AND ONE! As in MOBIUS has won! MWA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAA!" Mobius cackled insanely. "I hope it''s blowing up right now in your faces!"


    I dove through the door as soon as I could squeeze through, and mmed my open palm against the button to close it again. Just as soon as it slid shut, everything around me shook and rattled and groaned under an obviously massive strain. It was like the artillery strike from earlier, only amplified by a million. The vibrations were so severe that even if I''d been holding onto something, I''m sure I still would''ve fallen t on my ass. I was, frankly, a little surprised that the door held up and the roof didn''t copse.


    The roaring and shaking died down. I sat there, out of breath, the Holorifle on the ground at my side. I was in a bit of a daze.


    "BARK!"


    I jumped in fright at the sound, my arms iling wildly. I spun around in ce on the floor, grabbing at the walls, and scooted myself along the floor until I backed up against the door that had kept me safe from the explosion.


    Roxie was sitting there in the hallway, tongue lolling out of her mouth and panting happily at me.


    "Oh, fuck... Rox..." I sighed, trying to catch my breath. "You scared me. I..." I gulped, and let out another sigh. "I''m d you... I''m d you''re alright. You must''ve gotten out of there before all the fighting started... Whoo..." I ran a hand across my forehead, and I realized I was sweating. "That''s... hang on..." I furrowed my brow, and looked down. "What''ve you got there?"


    Sitting on the ground right on top of her paws was a holotape...plete with a fresh coating of drool. I got up off my ass, and kneeled back down in front of Roxie, picking up the holotape, and reading thebel.


    "Sonic Emitter Audio Sample - Gabriel''s Bark," I said aloud, wiping the slobber off the holotape''s case. "Heh..." I smiled, looking up at Roxie again. The dog was practically beaming up at me, her tail wagging back and forth behind her. I set the holotape down, and scratched her behind the ears; she shut her mouth, closed her eyes, and nuzzled her face into my hand.


    "Good dog. That''s a very good dog."

 Chapter 99: Higgs Boson

    Chapter 99: Higgs Boson


    One thing is definitely for sure: I''m gonna have to get the Think Tank''s help with this one.


    Probably.


    The very first thing I did with the holotape Roxie had recovered was try and plug it into my Pip Boy. Unfortunately, all that appeared on the screen when I tried to open the files was a load of gibberish. Numbers, broken RobCo termlink code, and symbols I''d never even seen before...


    I don''t think I''ll be able to upgrade the sonic on my own.


    I sighed as the dusty ground of the Big MT desert crunched under my boots. I looked up at the blue-green sky. I still couldn''t see the sun... it was obscured by those greenish-blue clouds, making the whole ce look like some alien world. And yet, somehow, everything was still brightly visible.


    "Well?" I said aloud, turning to the dog trotting along beside me. Roxie looked up with an interested whimper. "What do you think? Should we head back to the Think Tank right away, get this stupid thing upgraded?" As I spoke, I pulled the sonic projecto gun from the makeshift holster in my duster, and twirled the pistol around my finger several times. Roxie just let out a single bark, snorted, and then shook herself like she was trying to dislodge an annoying case of fleas.


    "Good point," I said, shrugging and putting the pulse gun back in ce. "There''s still plenty to do out here... and really, the less time I spend around the bickering, floating tin cans, the better off I''m probably going to be..." Roxie barked again happily, apparently pleased with that idea. "I wonder what other secrets this ce has to offer..."


    "What is this ce?" I asked aloud. Roxie didn''t respond... not that I could''ve understood her barking, anyway. I''d been following her lead on this little exploration endeavor, and she''d led me here. Only trouble is, I had no idea what this ce ''here'' actually <em>was</em>. It looked from the outside like a big warehouse. Maybe one of thoserge aircraft hangars I''d seen in Nellis. Several concrete buttresses were sticking out of the ground, connected to the side of the building; a few rocky outcroppings were jutting out at odd angles on either side of the building, almost framing it. Severalrge pipes snaked their way around the rocks and buttresses and into the side of the building.


    "Hurm. You see any way inside?" I asked, looking down at the cyberdog. Roxie trotted along ahead, and made a beeline for a door I''d failed to notice earlier. I followed her to the metal bulkhead, and pressed the button on the wall; the metal double doors slid into themselves, and then disappeared into the ground, allowing me ess.


    "Wh... the <em>hell</em>?" I asked, stepping forward onto a catwalk and looking down at... well...


    It was a neighborhood. It was like a small neighborhood from the old world, like it had been plucked from the world before the bombs. Six houses in a small cul-de-sac, with a fountain in the middle. The houses were white-paneled, two-story homes... it was the kind of thing you''d only ever see in an old world tv show, where father knew best, the mother always wore pearls, the two kids were scamps, and the dog was adorable. The houses even had white picket fences, green grasswns, flower pots below every window, and a single tree in the middle of eachwn.


    Even from this distance, I could tell that every single nt was fake. And yet... I was at a bit of a loss for words. You''d think I wouldn''t be surprised by anything after finding out my brain had been removed, but the Big Empty was quite clearly the Twilight Zone, and it wasn''t going to stop throwing me curve balls anytime soon.


    "Well, this is certainly..." I paused, leaning against the railing, trying to find the words. "... different. What do you think we''re gonna find in here, Ro-" I looked around, trying to find the suddenly missing cyberdog. "Roxie? Where''d you go? Here girl..." I whistled a few times.


    No response. Not even a bark.


    "Oh, hell," I sighed. Off to the side of the tform I was standing on was a metal staircase, leading down into the backyard of one of the houses. Most likely, Rox had slipped farther into this fake old world neighborhood. And she''d brought me all the way out here anyway, so... guess it was time to go exploring.


    When I got down into the cul-de-sac proper, I couldn''t help but take note of just how... eerily quiet everything was. I walked up to the closest house, and inspected the front door: only two of the numbers remained.


    "Zero... zero?" I couldn''t be certain, but it looked like there should have been a third number, either at the beginning or at the end. I looked around, and saw that each of the houses had numbers as well. 101... 104... 108?


    "Who numbered this ce?" I asked aloud. I looked back at the first door. "Alright... well, let''s try you first. I''d ask what''s behind door number one, but... clearly, this is door number zero." I looked around again. "00... 101... 104... 108... wait a minute..."


    The light bulb in my head finally clicked on.


    "Higgs vige..." I said aloud, finally understanding. "D mentioned this ce, didn''t she? This must be...This must be where the Think Tank all lived when they still had bodies..." I turned back to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.


    I was immediately face to face with a securitron.


    "What." I said aloud. "Wait... what? Why is this... <em>what</em>?" Almost immediately, I realized that I wasn''t actually face to face with it... as it was turned off. There was no face at all. Just a nk, cracked screen. In fact... I stepped around the robot, to get a better look at it; it was slumped on the couch just in front of the door, almost like it was sitting on it. "Is this thing busted?"


    Sure enough, it was obviously broken. Panels were hanging loose, broken and frayed wires were scattered around inside and out, and when I looked closer at the cracked face screen, I could see that whatever was used to project the image behind the ss was simply missing.


    "Okay... yeah, this isn''t creepy at all." I walked through the empty, darkened house, asionally stepping over scrap metal and spare electronics. Every now and again, I would see a half-broken robot lying in a corner - a protectron, half a securitron... parts from a Mr. Gutsy...


    "Hmmm..." I racked my brain, trying to force myself to remember details about the Think Tank''s bickering from earlier. "Didn''t Dr. O say something about being a robot...ical... engineer... person?" I looked down at the head of a broken protectron. "I suppose this must be his house then..." I sighed and shook my head, heading further into the dpidated house full of broken robots.


    "Rox? Y''in here?" I called with a whistle, stepping into the kitchen. I didn''t find the cyberdog; the ce wasn''t that big. I was just about to turn around and head out when I saw something on the wall... stuck there with knives. Easily nine or ten of them.


    "The hell?" I pulled the knife in the middle out so I could get a better look... it was a faded and yellowing photograph of a dark-haired man in a business suit. He was standing in front of the legs of a giant robot. I looked closer... and instantly recognized that mustache, and the smug grin below it. "Huh... well, someone had a grudge against House..."


    Damnit. There''s nothing here. This ce is nothing but a robot graveyard. No cyberdog. No nothing.


    ... so what''s making that noise?


    I headed upstairs, trying to follow that... it was like a skittering. Some kind of faint scratchinging from somewhere...


    There was ab upstairs. Machinery and servers lined the walls, but they were all deactivated. Broken robot parts littered the walls, just like the rest of the house. But there was a terminal. A single dusty terminal... and it was active. The sound wasing from the terminal. The sound of legs, skittering and scratching against something. Hissing...


    Hang on. Was that a holotape?


    "Huh..." I pulled out the holotape; the terminal fell silent, and the light in the monitor dimmed into nothing. "Audio Sample - Giant... Tarant?" I held the holotape in my hand, and reached into my duster for the holotape I''d recovered from X-8. "Huh... maybe the holotape <em>wasn''t</em> the important thing I needed from X-8?"


    I thought about that... and my eye twitched.


    "Oh, fer fuck sake. I''m gonna be pissed if I could''ve juste here <strong>first</strong> instead of dealing with that stupid high school nonsense."


    "I wonder who lived here?" I asked aloud, stepping through the door to 104. I paused, wondering for half a second if it was a bad thing that I was talking to myself so much. I shook it off as quick as I could.


    Like O''s house, this was dusty, dank, and dpidated... but there weren''t any robots. There was something a bit... <em>odd</em> about this ce. Was it the mannequins? The teddy bears? Or was it the color...


    "Red." Even faded, I could tell that almost everything in this house had been a deep, dark shade of red at one point. The couch, the walls, the ceiling, even the carpet on the stairs that led up...


    "Okay, what the fuck am I looking at here?" At the top of the stairs was... seriously, what <em>was</em> this? A bunch of broken mirrors? Discarded, ragged clothes... Stools with... teddy bears... sitting on them...


    Teddy bears...


    "D..." I picked up one of the stuffed toys... and the limbs popped off almost immediately. When the head disintegrated, I just shook my head andughed, tossing it aside. "I guess she got tired of these bears, and moved on to squishier ones..."


    And that''s about when I stepped into her bedroom. All it took was one nce at the plush surroundings, the red awning over the red bed, the female mannequins wearing the tattered remains of rather naughty undergarments, and the teddy bears scattered everywhere...


    "This isn''t the house of a scientist. This is a love nest."


    I stared at the tattered old world g. It was hanging above the door, just inside house 101. And then I looked off to the side... at a fully stocked bar. This was the living room. There was a <em>bar</em> in the living room.


    "Klein must have been a hideous drunk when he wasn''t a brain in a jar," I said, not entirely sure how I was able to make the connection. I shrugged, reaching behind the bar and pulling out a dusty bottle of rum. "Ah well. His loss is my gain." I popped the cork and took a swig as I walked around the house.


    There was really only one thing other than the bar that caught my eye: in the upstairs office was a tiny silver box, sitting on the desk next to a terminal. I utched the box, and found a chip inside. It looked exactly the same as the metal personality chip that activated Jeeves in The Sink. If I was right, this was another one of those personality chips.


    Just a shame there wasn''t abel or anything. That would make things more convenient.


    I still couldn''t find Roxie. Then again, maybe she was staying hidden for some reason... Maybe...


    "I wonder," I said aloud, taking another swig of rum. "Maybe she wants me to learn more about the Think Tank? I mean... they seem like a bunch of idiots, but... maybe..."


    I shook it off.


    "Nah."


    Hell is that noise?


    House 108. This had to be Dr. 8''s old house. He was all about soundwaves, wasn''t he? Of course his house would be full of static. It was just a constant, wearisome drone; a never ending hail of static white noise assaulting my ears. But where was it alling from? After looking around for only a second, the answer was obvious.


    Speakers... there were speakers everywhere. Speakers on the walls. Speakers on every appliance. There were megaphones. Radios. rm clocks. A jukebox. Stere-


    Wait, a jukebox?


    Every piece of electronic static-spewing junk in this house was sterile. Gunmetal grey and featureless... except...


    I was in the bedroom upstairs. There wasn''t even a bed anymore - just an empty, broken frame. And off in the corner was a single jukebox, still plugged in, and spewing the same static as everything else, except... it was colorful. The lights ringing the sides lit up the room in a multi-colored rainbow disy of shifting light. The wood paneling - obviously fake, since it hadn''t rotted away - was a deep, rich mahogany color. Hell, even the tiny disks behind the dusty ss case seemed to reflect the light with a wavy rainbow pattern...


    And sitting on the very top was another silver box. Just like the one I''d found in Klein''s ce. I utched it, and sure enough - another personality chip. I snapped it shut again, and put it with the other one inside my duster.


    Maybe there was something else good in here...


    Oh, fuck it. I can''t stand that awful racket anymore!


    How had I missed <em>that</em>?


    Out of all the other houses, this was the only one in Higgs Vige that had any signs of... well, I was going to say life. But half a skeleton, still wearing tattered rags around its torso, and clutching a broken camera in what''s left of it''s hand isn''t exactly <em>life</em> in the strictest sense, is it?


    I looked up at the door. There used to be the number 102 here on the door, I could tell that much. But... someone had covered it with spray-paint graffiti. And they''d written something else.


    "4-BIDDEN HOUSE!" Complete with three exmation points on the end, and even underlined several times for emphasis.


    "Forbidden house... forbidden zone... guess this must be Mobius'' old ce..." I mused aloud. I looked down at the skeleton on the ground, and then back at the door. "Hm. I guess he just doesn''t like visitors."


    Slowly, I reached for the door handle... and then backed off, turning away.


    "Not worth it."


    Onest house in Higgs to check. 103. The only one left was Borous.


    There were no robots here. No teddy bears. No booze. No static noise threatening to drive me crazy. No skeletons. Hell, there wasn''t even any furniture. But there was a lot of <em>one thing...</em>


    Cages.


    Every piece of avable space, save for a series of small, twisting walkways, was filled with stack upon stack of empty animal cages. Some were open, some were shut... some looked like they''d been <em>forced</em> open from the inside. All the wallpaper behind the cages? That wasn''t cracked or faded. It looked like it had been <em>shredded. </em>I couldn''t tell if this was the result of animals that had been here before the war and were now long dead, or if they were the result of something more recent... animals that might still be around right now. Either way, the effect was the same:


    "Yeah... fuck that noise. This is a big can of nope that I''m puttin'' right back on the shelf. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope."


    I shut the door behind me, and leaned up against it, sighing heavily.


    "Fuck," I eventually managed to squeeze out. "Where the fuck is that goddamn dog?" I shook my head, walked over to the dry fountain in the center of the fake cul-de-sac, and sat down on the edge. I looked up at the ceiling; there were several banks of lights attached to the inside of the roof, like you''d see in an old sports stadium, keeping the ce lit up. Every once in a while, I could see a crack where some panels in the roof didn''t fit quite right, letting just a little bit of light from the outside spill in, unfiltered by the filthy square windows ringing the upper edge of the warehouse.


    "Bark!"


    In a sh, I was back up on my feet. That was definitely Roxie. But where had the sounde from? I looked around... where was... There! Between 8 and Borous'' house! There wasn''t much of a backyard, but there <em>was</em> something there, almost directly behind house 103...


    A dog house. Littering the ground were a few letters that looked like they should''ve been attached: G, A, B, and E.


    And a bowl. I knelt down and picked it up, turning it over in my hands: Gabe''s name was on the side, in cracked and faded letters. I don''t know why, but... I decided to keep it. I shoved it in my duster, along with all the other things I''d collected here. I was gonna have to get back to The Sink soon, if only to empty out my pockets of everything I''d umted over thest few hours...


    "BARK!"


    I looked up again, my eyes darting back and forth to every corner, trying to find the source of the-


    Something very fast, very small, very heavy, and very slimyunched itself through the air without warning, andtched itself to my face.


    "WHAT THE -" I tried to yell; it was difficult with this whatever it was clinging to my face, obscuring my vision and using tiny paw-like hands to hold onto the side of my head. I could feel another set of paws at my leg, and I could clearly hear Roxie''s half-way mechanical barking over and over again directly below me. I stumbled back a bit, and grabbed at the thing clinging to my face; there was a row of spines that my hand brushed against. They weren''t terribly sharp, and there were enough of them that I could actually get a decent grip.


    I closed my fingers around the spines and pulled.


    For a solid minute, I couldn''t think of anything to say. I just... stared at the thing in my hands, not really able to make heads or tails of the situation.


    It was a deathw. It was clearly a tiny deathw, no more than a foot tall, hanging loosely in my grip and staring at me. I mean, it had all the characteristics of a deathw - tiny, beady eyes, scaly skin like a lizard, a pair of horns sticking outside its head, a tail, reverse jointed legs, and a pair of hands disproportionatelyrgepared to the rest of its body.


    But I''d never seen one so <em>small </em>before.


    And there were a few other strange things about it. Deathws get their name from the absolutely massive ws that sprout out of the ends of its fingers - ws sharp enough to rip a tank in half. But this one... it was like it had been dewed. It didn''t posses it''s namesake. And it''s mouth was strange as well. Normally, deathws have a maw filled with row after row of razor sharp teeth... but this one? What few teeth it had were rtively rounded... and it only had six teeth, not two and a half <em>dozen</em>.


    "Are you... are you a baby deathw?" I asked aloud, still staring at the creature in my hands. It squirmed a little in my grip, reaching for me with it''s two dewed hands, and letting out a series of high pitched squeals and squeaks. Below me, Roxie had stopped barking; she''d started snarling and growling instead, rearing back on her haunches.


    "Hm..." I walked over to the dog house, and set the tiny deathw on the roof; Roxie followed me, still growling, but at least keeping her distance. As soon as I let go of it, it immediately grabbed hold of my arm with a grip that was surprisingly strong. It looked up at me with those tiny, beady eyes, and let out another squeak, wagging its tail back and forth.


    "I am so confused." I said aloud. The tiny deathw sat down on the roof of the dog house, and I got another look at it; the spines running along its back weren''t really spines, but more like really stiff fur... and they were white. It stood in stark contrast with the dark green-grey scales, and almost made it look like he had a white mohawk running from his head down his back.


    "Quite the little stripe you got there..." I said to the tiny deathw. That seemed to please him. "Huh... Stripe... that seems a decent enough name for a de-wed deathw. A dew." I chuckled a little. He squeaked in approval, and finally let go of my arm... only to try and climb up it. I don''t know why... but I kind of liked this thing. It seemed pretty cute, and didn''t seem like it wanted - or had the ability - to try and kill me like I''d expect from a full sized deathw.


    I helped Stripe up my arm, and he finally came to a stop at my shoulder, sitting there like a parrot in an old holotape about pirates. Even Roxie had stopped growling. The cyberdog was sitting on the ground, staring up at me, no longer making any noise. I think she was just worried that this tiny deathw was attacking me, and now that it clearly wasn''t... she looked as confused as I felt.


    "Well, I suppose a little extrapany couldn''t hurt..." I said with a smile. Stripe squeaked from his perch on my shoulder, and brushed the side of his head against me; his horns scraped against my ear. It stung a bit, but it didn''t seem to cause any damage. "What do you think, Rox? More the merrier?"


    Roxie barked in approval, the gel in her brain-tank glowing slightly.


    "Alright then. Let''s get out of here. I don''t think there''s anything left for us to find here in Higgs..." I turned on my heel, Stripe on my shoulder and Roxie trotting along next to me. Iughed a little; Roxie whimpered curiously at the sound. "Man, this is starting to sound like the beginnings of a joke. A courier, a robot dog, and a tiny deathw all walk into a bar..."


    Stripe let out a pulsing wheeze that I could swear was actuallyughter.

 Chapter 100: Picking Their Brains

    Chapter 100: Picking Their Brains


    "A most rapturous good morrow on your return to your domicile, sir," Jeeves'' ent wafted through the air just as soon as the elevator doors opened to The Sink. The holographic bars above his table were rising and falling as he spoke, causing a vaguely-kaleidoscopic light show on the ceiling. "I trust that sirs'' expeditions and explorations of the crater today were most sessful?"


    "Absolutely, Jeeves," I said with a smile, Roxie trotting along at my side and Stripe still sitting on my shoulder. "Even picked up a few strays. Hope you don''t mind."


    "Fear not, sir. Even were I to ''mind,'' as sir is wont to say, the addition of other biological life forms within the confines of The Sink, it is not within my programming to alert sir to such an inconvenience." It took me a few seconds to work out exactly what Jeeves was trying to say. While I was standing there in front of the circr table, Stripe hopped off my shoulder and started wandering around The Sink, sniffing the air as he went.


    "You know, you could have just said ''No, I don''t mind.'' That probably would''ve been easier." I said with a chuckle.


    "Indeed, sir. But where would we find the fun in that?"


    I blinked several times.


    "Was... was that a joke?" I asked; before Jeeves had a chance to answer, I just shook my head and pulled out the two boxes I''d picked up in Higgs. "Nevermind. I found these personality chips out in the crater. How do I install them?" As I held them both in my hand, I took another look at them. I hadn''t noticed it in the dim light of the Higgs vige buildings, but each box had a small white hexagon printed on the top of the lid.


    "Instation of the other personality constructs is very simple, if sir will pardon the pun," Jeeves said simply, the holographic bars above his table shifting their colors several times before finally settling back on blue. I blinked, thinking about that.


    "What pun?" I asked.


    "Wasn''t there one?" Jeeves seemed surprised. "Oh, I''m sorry, sir. If sir truly wishes to go through with sirs aim of inflicting upon sirs self the dubious services of the other constructs within this domicile, then sir may find the proper instation slots on this terminal, just below the main Sink Central Intelligence Chip slot." I looked down, and all I saw below the spot where I''d installed the chip was... nk space. It was just a solid sheet of curved metal.


    "Wait, what? But there isn''t-" As I spoke, the metal hissed, and it split apart from a seam that just seemed to materialize. Seriously, it had beenpletely invisible seconds earlier. Inside, there was a bank of 9 empty slots, just the right size for the chips. With a satisfying click, I slid the two chips into two of the nk spaces near the left side.


    The table began to hum, and the holographic bars disappeared; several words appeared in midair, flickering but still legible.


    INSTALLING PERSONALITIES:


    -BOOK CHUTE


    -JUKEBOX


    "Book chute?" I asked aloud, reading the holographic words. "What the fuck is a book chute?" As it happens, I got my answer very quickly.


    "Ahhhh!" A voice from somewhere in front of me sighed.


    "Did someone... who said that?" I followed the noise; it led to a mechanical device on the wall that started to light up as I drew near. It looked like a box with a long thin blue light on top, a few blinking blue buttons (circles and squares) in the middle, and an opening in the bottom with several sharp metal ''teeth'' around the edge.


    "Good day, Citizen!" the machine on the wall said, cheerfully as I approached. "Library Processing Unit 232.7 is on-line and ready eradicate sedition!"


    "... eradicate <em>sedition</em>?" I asked. I didn''t want to admit it, but I''d never actually heard that word before.


    "Of course, Citizen!" the book chute continued. "That''s my duty and sole joy in life! All those books from before the War, full of seditious, treasonous, and overlyplicated thoughts!" Alright, that clears that - wait, what? "Just dump any pre-war books into my intake slot, and lickety-split I''ll have them pulped, scrubbed clean, and pressed out again! Clean and white and sedition free!"


    "Clean and white... wait, hang on. You take books from before the bombs dropped, and make them nk? What''s the point of that?"


    "nk books are better for the mind, Citizen!" This thing''s overly cheerful demeanor was getting slightly disconcerting. "Real science by real men in realb coats has proved that introducing outside thoughts confuses the brain! nk books encourage the reader not to question, but to blindly and zealously ept what''s put in front of him!"


    I felt my eye twitch.


    "Alright, leaving aside the utter insanity of what you just said for a minute," I said as tly as I could. "Those books are... there''s knowledge in those books from before the war! Why would you destroy them like that?" The book chute was silent for a few seconds.


    "Citizen," the machine''s voice dropped down into a surprisingly serious tone. "That sounds <em>dangerously</em> seditious. If my re-indoctrination module was installed, I''d take care of that for you. Sadly, that system was cut for budgetary concerns, so you''ll have to perform your own indoctrination. Now, to begin with, you''ll need a cage that can fit over your head and a sack of rats-"


    "Ohhhh, give it a rest already, man!" I heard a deep, gravelly, booming voice sound off from the other room. Looking for any excuse to get away from the, frankly, disturbing book chute, I followed the voice until I came across the jukebox in the other room. As the machine spoke, the lights ringing the edge shed. "You are just way too high strung for this ce..."


    "What, and you''re not?" I asked, looking at the jukebox. "I can''t imagine anybody being entirely stress-free in this giant bowl of sugar-free insanity."


    "Oh, I''m absolutely a cool cat, daddy-o. Dig? Got nothin'' to prove. Not like that Toaster. Now that boy, he got some issues."


    "Toaster?" I asked softly, thinking back to the toaster I''d found earlier bolted to the table. I shook it off quickly. "Alright, so who are you?"


    "The name''s Blind Diode Jefferson, acoustical wizard. What''s the haps?"


    "Acoustical wizard? So, what? You y music?" The Jukebox - Jefferson, apparently - just seemed to hum.


    "Mmm... Used to. Long time ago. Then Ol'' Doc Mo ripped out my music drives. Stuck in more acoustical processors. Guess you could say I got the blues..." He chuckled softly. "Even if I can''t y them no more."


    "So... what do you <em>do</em>?" As melodic as his deep, gravely voice was to listen to, I was just a little bit tired of getting the run-around.


    "Ol Doc Mo used me to prototype his sonic weapon designs. Get me a good sample base to work from, and I can whip up a wave that makes Jericho look like a kazoo."


    "Sonic weapon?" I reached into my duster, and pulled out the sonic projecto gun. "You mean this?"


    "Yeahhh... that''s the... hang on." A light turned on, right in the middle of Jefferson''s front panel, and quickly scanned the weapon in my hands. "It ain''t upgraded yet. It''s still the base model... that''s odd. I thought Ol'' Doc Mo upgraded that thing years ago..."


    "So... you can''t do anything then?" I asked, examining the pistol again.


    "Well, not yet. I think the schematics are somewhere... ah, damn, where was that again?"


    "X-8?" I offered helpfully.


    "Yeah, that''s it! The schematics should be somewhere in there. I bet if you ask real nice, one of the Think Tank downstairs can help get that thing back up to scratch. Once you do, bring that old thing on in here, and then bring me some sound samples. I''ll make that baby sing!" He paused, adding with a chuckle: "Or scream, if that''s what you want."


    "Scream, huh?" I asked with a smirk.


    "Mmhmm..." Jefferson grunted out slowly. "With all the funky grooves I know how to spin, you can damn well bet that I know how to make thedies <em>scream</em>." And then he just startedughing.


    "<strong>DID YOU RETRIEVE THE TECHNOLOGIES YET?</strong>" Klein''s thundering, perpetually booming voice yelled in my face. "<strong>WE NEED THEM, AS I HAVE INDICATED.</strong>"


    "Not all of them yet, but-" Klein cut me off.


    "<strong>THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE, WITH YOUR PENIS-FEET CONTAMINATING THE THINK TANK? IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THE TECHNOLOGIES, THEN YOU ARE AS USELESS AS YOUR EXTRANEOUS LIMBIC EXTREMITIES!</strong>"


    "Slow your roll, megaphone," I said as forcefully as I could. "I''m here because I need to... need to..." I tried reaching into my duster for the sonic projecto gun, but for some reason... as soon as my hand got close to the pistol grip, my whole hand locked up. The joints in my fingers just... they stopped responding, and my joints wouldn''t unlock until I drew my hand away.


    That''s odd.


    "<strong>NEED TO WHAT, LOBOTOMITE? EXPLAIN YOURSELF, AND THEN REMOVE YOURSELF! YOUR CONTINUED PRESENCE IS TAKING OCCAM''S RAZOR TO THE TENUOUSLY THIN THREADS OF MY ALREADY WEARY PATIENCE!</strong>"


    "I''m trying to grab the projecto gun in my duster," I said, looking up, a bit confused. "I think I got the upgrade schematics from X-8, but I... I can''t grab the gun. Why can''t I grab the gun?"


    "<strong>THAT IS A SIDE EFFECT OF THE CEREBRAL SCRUBBING. IT WON''T STOP YOU FROM EXCRETING - OR ASKING QUESTIONS, APPARENTLY. HAVE TO CORRECT THAT NEXT TIME...</strong>" Klein hovered around me, talking (yelling) more to himself than to me for a moment, before finallying back and yelling directly in my face again. "<strong>HORMONAL AGGRESSIVE TENDENCIES ARE ACTIVELY SUPPRESSED BY THE PACIFICATION FIELD. AGGRESSION IS A NO-NO, AND NOT PERMITTED IN THE THINK TANK. SHOULD HAVE DONE THE ANTI-AGGRESSION SCRUB WITH THE LAST BATCH.</strong>"


    "Last batch?" I asked. "What do you mean,st batch?"


    "<strong>THE LAST BATCH OF VISITORS TO BIG MT, BEFORE YOU ARRIVED.</strong>" Klein yelled. "<strong>THEY CAUSED A GREAT DEAL OF DAMAGE IN A SHORT TIME. THEY STOLE A GREAT MANY SECRETS AND MUCH TECHNOLOGY. IMPERTINENT.</strong>" Klein paused. "<strong>ONE OF THEM ALSO BROKE ONE OF MY TRAINS. I SPENT YEARS PERFECTING THE DETAILS OF THAT ATOMIC POWERED 1:1 SCALE MODEL RAILWAY!</strong>"


    "These other visitors... who were they?" I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew... but I had to ask. I had to get some kind of conformation.


    "<strong>DOCTOR 8 AND DOCTOR O COULD TELL YOU MORE,</strong>" Klein bellowed. "<strong>DOCTOR O MORE THAN 8. THE BATTLE AGAINST THE VISITORS DAMAGED 8''S VOICE MODULE. SUFFICE TO SAY, THOSE VISITORS ARE UNWELCOME. NOW, IF THAT WILL BE ALL, REMOVE YOUR OOZING, GLANDULAR PRESENCE FROM THE THINK TANK! THERE IS SCIENCE TO BE DONE, AND YOU ARE INTERRUPTING MATTERS MOST SCIENTIFIC AND BEYOND YOUR PRIMITIVE LOBOTOMITE LACK-OF-COMPREHENSION!</strong>"


    "Fine, whatever, look -" I opened up my duster to show Klein the makeshift holster for the sonic. "How do I get this damn thing out of the holster without the pacification field kicking in?"


    "<strong>HAVE YOU TRIED TURNING IT OFF AND ON AGAIN?</strong>" Klein yelled unhelpfully. I buried my free hand in my face.


    "Forget it, I''ll figure it out on my own..." I sighed and walked away, intent on speaking with any other member of the Think Tank who wasn''t going to shatter my eardrums.


    "<strong>YES. A MOST GOOD-BYE.</strong>"


    "Hey... uh..." I walked up to the Think Tank with the dull burnt-orange bio gel in his tank. "Doctor 8, right?" The brain-tank-scientist-robot turned around in midair, looking at me... and then he let out that same static that I''d heard before.


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ * $ ( ^ = ) # ]**!


    "Uh... right." I cleared my throat, still a bit perturbed that I could somehow ''see'' the characters he was spewing in my head. "Can you speak? Do you... I mean, can you understand me?"


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ * $ ( ^ = ) # ]**!


    "Your voice module got damaged," I said, going out on a limb. "I heard from Klein. But you can still understand me, right?"


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "Is... is that yes?" I asked. "A no? Or... a yes-no?" I smiled, chuckling weakly. There was something... I don''t know how to exin it, but somehow... the more I was talking with him, the more...


    **[ $ - - - - - - $ ]**.


    "So... is it alright if I ask you some questions?" Dumbass, you''re already asking him questions. You''re asking a question just asking him a question.


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ $ - - - - - - $ ]**.


    "Not... sure. What you meant." I said, being honest. But still... there was something...


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ $ - - - - - - $ ]**.


    "Alright..." I said, recognizing the same series of characters again. "So, here''s one: What can you tell me about the attack that ruined your voicebox?"


    **[ # - ! ! ! ! - # ]**! **[ # - ? ? ? ? - # ]**! **[ # - ! ! ! ! - # ]**!


    "Alright, alright!" I said, holding my hands in a disarming gesture; at the mention of the attack, 8 started shaking in midair like crazy, and the static... characters... got more frantic. Somehow. I guess that was the wrong thing to say. "I''m sorry, just calm down. I didn''t mean to rm you."


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "Hang on," I said, looking closer at the tank suspended in the bio gel. "I swear your brain... tank... thing... I think it sparked." And then... somehow... it all came together.


    **[ # - ? ? ? ? - # ]**! **[ # - ! ! ! ! - # ]**!


    "Wait a minute... that''s..." I paused, going over the images broadcast in my head again. "You''re emitting characters in patterns of 8, aren''t you? They''re... bracketed patterns of 8 characters, with tonal adjustment at the ends."


    How did I know that?


    **[ # - ? ? ? ? - # ]**! **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "Well, I just heard the rhythm in the sequence is all," I said with a smile and a shrug, almost answering my own question. Honestly, I wasn''t sure - but it sounded right, at any rate. "I probably should put it to use counting cards when" if "I get back to Vegas."


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "Well, yeah," I nodded. "I mean, the code has got some problems. I''m not arguing that."


    **[ # - * $ $ * - # ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "So... oh, I think I get it now. Your broadcast pattern is RobCo termlink code, but not by choice..."


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ $ - - - - - - $ ]**.


    "But if that''s RobCo termlink protocol... doesn''t that mean it can be hacked?" I asked, thinking about all the many, many, many times I had to sift through RobCo termlink garbage to hack into a terminal.


    **[ # - ? ? ? ? - # ]**! **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "Hey, c''mon, don''t worry," I said, trying to ease the obviously nervous brain-bot. "I''m not going to take advantage of the exposed code. I''m not that kind of guy."


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**...


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "It''s not a problem, man," I said with a nod. "I know what it''s like to be experimented on."


    **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ # - ! ! ! ! - # ]**!


    "Well, alright... now that we know each other a little bit better," I grabbed the edge of my duster and showed 8 the sonic device in the makeshift holster. "Maybe you can help me out with this? I think I got the upgrade schematics from X-8, but I''m not sure they''re installed... I''d like to be sure this thing can take out forcefields next time I head out into the crater."


    Suddenly, a small beam of burnt-orange light began projecting from the front of the brain bot; I felt a strange tingling sensation, and the sonic gun was lifted out of the holster and held aloft in a tiny tractor beam. Several pulses of thin blue light bounced back and forth between the sonic and 8, suspended in midair by therger shaft of orange light.


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    "Well, ''projecto'' is kind of evident," I said,menting on his exnation of the device as he worked to upgrade it. And, apparently, what Rox had found in Gabe''sir wasn''t the upgrade - the upgrade schematics were transmitted directly to the Think Tank as soon as I finished the High School test. Gabe''s bark was one of the audio sample bases that I could take to Blind Diode Jefferson upstairs.


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**. **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    Man... so much information contained in so few characters... I was having a hard time grasping just how I could understand all this. But I could. And it was <em>weird</em>.


    Well, now that the sonic was upgraded and I could (in theory) disable force fields, I didn''t <em>really </em>have any need to stay down here with the other floating, talking tin cans.


    But... I dunno. 8 seemed all right. Maybe it''s just Klein who''s the asshole. So, I decided to give it a chance, and wandered over to the floating brain bot with green bio gel: Borous.


    "Hello, Lobotomite!" Borous said as I got close. He floated around me, extending his eye and mouth monitors in odd directions in front of me. "Good work retrieving the schematics from X-8. And for putting down Gabe!"


    "Wait, what?" I seemed a bit taken aback. "You''re <em>d</em> I killed your dog?" Granted, I''m not sure that giant Frankenstein monster of metal and fur could''ve really been called a <em>dog </em>anymore... but Borous just nodded his tank.


    "He was a scamp, but really... his highly-augmentedbat programming could have proved meddlesome. In any event... thank you for putting him down. One LESS test subject to catalogue and sort - clearly a FAILURE of doggie cybo-engineering..." Borous seemed a bit less histrionic than he''d been before. And that''s when I remembered:


    "Hey, you know... I found this in Higgs vige," I said as I reached behind me, pulling out the dented stic dish. "This is Gabe''s bowl, isn''t it?" Borous froze in midair, his two eye-screens locked on the lump of stic in my hand.


    "WHAT?!" Suddenly, a green beam was emitted from Borous, much the same as when 8 took the sonic from my hands. The stic bowl was lifted up in the air and Borous stared at it for a few seconds before speaking again. "Why... yes. Yes, it is. I used to leave it outside his dog house, chock-full of chems. Before the cybeic modifications, of course. And..." He paused. "No matter how chemmed the food, he would always eat it. And his tail, his tail would wag... even... even while I... I..." Borous stopped again, simply staring at the dish for a few seconds. He cleared his throat and turned back to me, lowering the bowl but still keeping it suspended in the tractor beam. " I am having the most perplexing feeling squiggling through my biogel. I can''t quite... pin it down..."


    "You know," I approached Borous with a smile, intent on putting a hand on his shoulder - and then I remembered that he doesn''t have any. So I settled with patting the top edge of the closest eye-screen in a (hopefully)forting gesture. "Sounds to me like Gabe really loved you." Borous didn''t move. He just lifted up the bowl again with the tractor beam, and kept staring at it.


    "Why... yes." He sighed. "Gabe. No matter how awful my day had been, he... he was always waiting there." He paused again. "How odd. My gel is de-coagting." He floated back away from me, the eye and mouth screens retreating inward, and the hovering bowl following. "And when I would talk to him about Betsy - and how Marcus would beat on me and call me Smarty Sissy Pants, he''d just sit there, head on my knee. And..." He stopped retreating, and turned back to me. "If you don''t mind, I''ll... I''ll just take this bowl. I just... need to remove it. Put it away. Somewhere out of radar range. For some reason, its simrity to the Crater-shape of Big MT is starting to fill up all avable cognitive spaces. That,bined with my own overwhelming feeling of having done something terrible... the two are hitting me with... unexpected force."


    "Hey, it was yours in the first ce," I said with a shrug and a nod. "Sounds to me like you hurt someone who loved you very much." Borous looked at the bowl in his tractor beam, and then back at me, hovering up above me slightly - not because I thought he wanted to be above me, but because he''d already backed up into the wall.


    "As odd as it is, I believe that is the conclusion. And... I wonder why it didn''t hit me before, until I saw that memory in your hands?" Borous floated back down, finally setting the bowl on a nearby table, and deactivating the tractor beam. "This sensation is unpleasant. I don''t care for it." He started hovering around me, his screens slowly and subtly shaking. "I don''t care for this ce, either. And... I feel... as if we''ve forgotten something..."


    "Forgotten?" I asked, a bit more curious now.


    "Still... it..." Borous didn''t seem to be talking to me anymore. "It is NO MATTER." Ah yes, there''s the histrionic Borous I''d seen earlier. "Crush the feeling down. Crush it down, push it into the loop, the... hmmmm." The brain bot spun in midair and turned back to me. "YES. Forgotten. Almost. Yes? I do not need to remember ANY MORE. Not today." Borous nodded at me, and then hovered past me and up into the rafters; up and out of sight.


    "Not today..." I barely heard before he disappearedpletely.


    "Breaking News!" Doctor O yelled as soon as I wandered close, without even turning around until he was halfway through speaking. "Talking Lobotomite arrives in Think Tank! Its purpose? Unknown. Undefinable. Its presence here? <em>UNPOSSIBLE!</em>"


    "Uh..." Iughed a bit, walking up to the brain bot with dull grey bio gel. "I think you mean ''impossible,'' not ''unpossible.'' Unpossible isn''t a word."


    "O REALLY." Doctor O shoved his two eye monitors up close to me. "Now the Lobotomite is master of the dictionary arts!" He started spinning around in ce, still ranting and raving. "What, do you have a doctorate in verbology? No? I do! And..." When he finally stopped spinning in ce, he focused his eye screens directly on my arm. "STOP. THE. PRESSES. Just in from my eye monitors..." He looked up at me, shoving his monitors in my face, causing me to back up. "Is that RobCo tech on your arm?" He looked back down at the Pip Boy. "IT IS!" He looked back up at me. "What''s your agenda, bringing that in here?!"


    All that moving about and yelling at me that he was doing was starting to make me dizzy; I shook it off as quickly as I could.


    "What''s the big deal? It''s just a Pip Boy." I looked down at theputer on my arm; for all I''d been through since I got it, it still didn''t look any more or less beat up. How many explosions and gunfights had this (and I) survived?


    "What, are you showing off? How great Robert House and his biiiigpany are?" He started floating around me, speaking in a fake high-pitched ent. "Oh! We can make Securitrons better than any robot those geniuses at Big MT can make, and they''llst for a thousand years!" He shook his tank and growled, going back to his normal voice. "Oooh! You''re lucky I don''t have hands to tear that Dip-Boy trash off your arm - or feet to stomp on its stupid metal guts! Ooooh! Damn RobCo!"


    "Well," I said, thinking back to my assault on the Lucky 38''s Penthouse. "Look at it like this. You don''t have to worry about House anymore." O looked at me, finally settling down a bit, and the eyes on his monitors narrowed at me.


    "Worry? About House? Why would I do that? Hope he died alone in a dingy room, streaming hisst remaining bodily fluids into jars! Him and his dirty girl-bots! Don''t even get me started on those filthy biological catcher''s mitts!"


    "Calm down," I said; you know, for a crazy, stupid, ancient brain in a jar, he wasn''t far off from what actually happened. "I just wanted to ask you some questions."


    "Fine," O sighed, and settled into a hover a few feet away from me. "Ask."


    "Well, you know... Been talking with the other members of the Think Tank. At least, I tried to talk to 8 about the attack I keep hearing about, But he... wasn''t really all that helpful." He looked like he wanted to curl up in a little ball when I mentioned it, I didn''t say.


    "Uh... I''m not sure I''ll be much help either. I don''t like to talk about it. It wasn''t all the visitors though - only one of them got out of control. He''s the one that took control of Little Yangtze, our old human farm."


    What.


    "Human... <em>farm</em>?" I asked, utterly confused. "What do you mean?"


    "This human... I can''t believe it..." O said; I think he didn''t understand the question... "He broke out of the Think Tank. In seconds! Then he went for Yangtze, got the bomb cors, and started practicing on the subjects that were still there until he got the right frequency."


    Elijah. It had to have been that old bastard. While I was thinking, O kept talking.


    "We were sending robots to stop him, and he was slicing and cutting through their shells with some souped-upser gun like they were cheese... paper. When he hacked into the mainframe, 8 tried to stop him and got fried. Me? He rerouted my processors to take control of the trainwork here. If you see the tunnels with the trains plowed into them, you can thank our visitor for that. He wrecked the whole ce. While we were busy trying to keep containment on the surface, he used one of the <em>other </em>trains to punch out a tunnel and escape... it''s sealed now, but..."


    "Wait, you said there were others, right? Who were they?"


    "Two other human specimens. One arrived not long after the troublemaker... and thest one..." O paused. "Not sure when he showed up. Thought the first one was going to be lobotomized in Y-17, but she got out... somehow."


    Christine. Didn''t she say that she''d been experimented on here in the Big Empty? Note to self: visit Y-17 at some point.


    "As for thest subject... Klein might know more. He talked to him, then Klein let thest visitor leave the Think Tank. So you should probably talk to Klein if you''re interested."


    "Yeah, I think I''ll pass. My eardrums can only handle so much in a day..." I grumbled... but the gears in my head were turning. I was trying to remember what Christine had told me when the two of us talked in Vera''s suite:


    <em>"There was someone else who came along. Saved me. Knew about Elijah."</em>


    <em>"What, like another member of the Brotherhood?"</em>


    <em>"No. A courier. He called himself a courier, at least. Wore an Old World g on his back. He was the one who pulled me out of there. Told me where Elijah had gone."</em>


    Elijah... Christine... who was this other guy? I tried to shake it off. I didn''t have enough information to figure it out now, so there was no sense worrying about it. At least, not now.


    "Never mind. What about you? What do you do here, anyway?"


    "What <em>I </em>do?" O asked me back. "I am responsible for all things robotical. You see a robot? I made it. See a broken robot? I made it that way. Deconstructed it down to parts! I have a gift with machines, you see. I can render anything inoperable - preserve them in a non-functioning state." I thought about that for a minute.


    "That... doesn''t sound all that impressive." I said. "Breaking machines, that is."


    "Well, who asked <em>you</em>?" O blurted out defensively. "You just wait until a working machine threatens you! O yes, you''ll wish I was around then!"


    "Hmm..." I scratched the back of my head, my fingers brushing against the metal studs at the base of my skull. "You know, I''ve got to ask... That name of yours, O... is that your only name? Just a letter?"


    "No..." he grumbled. "It wasn''t always ''O.'' I had to take that one by default because SOMETIMES it''s easier to ept the mistake as long as the purpose works." He grumbled again. "I don''t want to get into it. It''s a sore topic with me. Makes my gel ripple."


    "Are you sure you don''t want to talk about it?" I asked. "I''m a good listener. Got the ears for it." Iughed a little, and flicked my earlobes back and forth several times.


    "Great. Psychology. Clearly the worst of the Sciences. Right after Colosto-Diarrhetics." He sighed heavily, and continued. "O-kay, so my name isn''t ''O.'' Never was. It was circr, a single character, digit, but not ''O.'' But even with enhanced sensors, not a single one of the ''geniuses'' here in the Think Tank could get it right! Always kept seeing the letter, not the number."


    It didn''t take me all that long to work that out.


    "If they kept confusing the letter with a number, then that means, your name is... Doctor Zero?"


    "YES!" Zero yelled, nodding his tank feverishly several times. "Thank you! Zero! I am Zero! How hard is that? A narrow, thin Zero, but no! They always call me O, and never remember when I try and correct them!"


    I thought about that for a minute.


    "You know, if you wanted to differentiate the "0" and the "O," why didn''t you just put a sh through the zero?"


    "What." Zero came to a dead stop in midair, letting out the ttest ''what'' I''d ever heard uttered by anyone.


    "Draw a sh through it," I continued. "I read about that in a science book a couple years back. Programmers would draw a sh through a zero whenever the distinction for the character needed emphasis. I mean, as long as none of the Think Tank are Scandinavian, they shouldn''t confuse it with ." Wait, hang on. How... how did I...


    Dead silence reigned between us for several seconds. The gel in Zero''s tank bubbled and the light flickered.


    "Did... did I shoot myself with a brainial beam or something?" Zero''s tone of voice made it seem like he thought this was the most brilliant idea he''d ever heard. "That''s brilliant!" He coughed, and tried topose himself. "I mean... er, I... I would havee to the same conclusion. Eventually... er... O, who am I kidding? I never would have figured that out! I can''t figure anything out! I''m..." Zero let out a wail. "Aighhh! I''m useless!"


    "So, is that what you want to be?" I asked, trying to get him to stop feeling sorry for himself. "Zero, I mean. Not useless. You want to be Zero?"


    "Exactly! At least the old name was indisputable. O... O is more like... <em>surprise</em>. ''O, look what I just stepped in!'' you know?" I shrugged, nodding in agreement.


    "I do. And personally, I like zero as well. There''s power in zero. It reduces anything multiplied against it - to zero." I smirked, thinking back to his earlierment. Kind of like what he does to robots.


    "Well, of course it does," Zero nodded his tank in agreement. "That''s the most lethal of mathematics." He paused, thinking on that for a seconds. "That''s pretty cool, actually. Destroyer of numbers! I already wreck every robot I study, why can''t I wreck basic arithmetic, too?" He turned back to me, and started ranting - but happily this time, not angrily. "I like your solution, Lobotomite! With that kind of sh in the middle, I can set myself apart! Er... I mean, if I wanted to. The biggest Zero in all the Think Tank! They won''t be able to escape it, that diagonal sh right down the middle!"


    "You can take the idea, I''m not using it," I said with a smirk. Zero nodded again.


    "Thanks. Talking to you... it really helped unclog some frustration." He sighed. "Huh. Talking. What a primitive form of thought-kicking..."


    Onest brain to talk to: D. She turned to me as soon as I got close, and stared at me with eye-screens that looked slightly...rger than any of other members of the Think Tank.


    "You are an unusual specimen to so boldly... walk... into the mighty expanse of the Think Tank," D said in a silky sweet (and surprisingly calm sounding) voice. "Fearless and proud as a teddy bear. Between the extraction of their higher reasoning abilities and urination-inducing fear, most Lobotomites dare not approach us. Let alone speak to us."


    "What can I say, I''m special like that," I smirked. D started hovering around me, and I could practically feel her gaze looking me over.


    "You have no such fear, facing me, epidermis flushed with blood, sma running molten beneath, your face contorting with... muscr expression..." D came to a halt in front of my face, staring at me with intent and hungry eyes behind those monitors. "Will you... indulge me? Say a... a few words?" She seemed short of breath - which made about as much sense as anything else here. "Please, face toward the monitors, so that I might... record it... for further... <em>examination</em>."


    I raised an eyebrow, and smiled at her again. What to say? I wonder if she wanted me to say anything in particr... And for some reason, I thought back to when Christine had just gotten her voice back in the Sierra Madre...


    "The quick Scribe jumped over thezy Pdin?" I offered up eventually.


    "Yes... yes, go on." D said with a slight quiver in her voice. "Seeing your... lips and mouth forming the words... both revolting... and somehow..." She paused. "How does it <em>feel</em> to have the flesh roll around in your mouth like that? To control each muscle... and the... tongue... like having a fish or an extremely dexterous slug, lolling and flopping in one''s... mouthal cavity."


    "Man, I love doctors. They''re so disgustingly clinical," I said with augh... and then an interesting idea popped into my head. Not sure if it was a good idea, but it was almost certainly bound to be augh, at any rate. I thought back to D''s house in Higgs: the love nest. And here she was, so obviously obsessed with...


    "You know... I could be wrong," Iced my fingers behind my head, and my smile practically spread from ear to ear. "But it seems to me that you have more... <em>biological </em>needs than your counterparts." Immediately, D floated away from me, looking back and forth from her left to her right.


    "What?" She said hurriedly. "Nonsense."


    Oh <em>really</em>?


    Without saying anything, I closed my eyes, and breathed in obviously and heavily through my nose; I reached high up above my head and stretched.


    "Wh- what are you doing?" D''s monitors twitched, but she didn''t look away.


    I opened my mouth as wide as I could, let out a long, heavy sigh, and ran my hand along the top of my shaved head. I angled my head so she could get the best view of my fingers running along the top of my head.


    "St-stop it! Wh- why are you m-making me partake in this... this... this filthy formography?" She still wasn''t looking away; the lights in her tank flickered, and I could see a few bubbles.


    I brought up my other hand, and ran my hands alongside both sides of my face as slowly as I could. I inhaled deeply (and loudly), sucking in the air through my teeth, and then letting out a satisfied "Mmmmmm..."


    "Enough!" D blurted out; a big bubble rumbled through her tank, and the light was shining brightly. "I am already... intrigued. You have sufficiently... <em>percted</em> me."


    "Got your motor running, huh?" I said with an almost predatory smile. D kept staring at me.


    "I... don''t know what it is about the biology of Lobotomites. It... it infects my thoughts. All that skin and muscle... and..." D angled her eye screens down. "...tissue." She quickly brought them back up to look at my face.


    "You don''t have to feel ashamed," I said,cing my fingers behind my head again. "There''s nothing wrong with looking at the human body. I certainly don''t mind you looking." I grinned again.


    "Perhaps... perhaps there is value in what you say." D paused. "I... I did so enjoy breathing once. Long ago."


    "I coulde back any time, and just... breathe." I offered. "If you want."


    D was silent for a very long time.


    "I... yes." D finally said, her voice dropping down low. "There is... I think there is something you can do. Something more than... <em>breathing</em>. Though that is nice. It''s very... very nice." The light in her tank flickered and glowed brightly again. "But there is... yes, there is more you can do for me. For Science, I mean. "


    "More than breathing?" I asked. D nodded.


    "It''s... an experiment. Something that I''ve been... working on..." D looked around again. "In my... privatebs. Away from the other members of the Think Tank."


    "Privateb?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "What is this ce?" I asked, following D as we descended deeper through a series of twisting, turning tunnels.


    "There are severalboratories beneath the Think Tank Dome," D said, much more confidently now that it was just the two of us. "Each member of the Think Tank has a privateboratory, where private research can be conducted in isted, controlled, and especially private conditions, away from the other members of the team. Only I can ess my privateboratory, just as Klein can only ess his, and so on."


    "And there''s an experiment here you want me to help with?" I asked. D didn''t say anything, but I could tell that she was nodding, even though she was in front of me, and leading the way.


    We finally came to a halt at the end of a long hallway, which ended in a metal bulkhead, and a circr light (glowing purple, obviously) right in the very center. D extended a beam of light from her metal chassis, directed right at the purple light; there was a heavy thud, a clunk of metal machinery grinding against more metal, and the door slid into the floor.


    "This is ab?" I asked, stepping into the room behind D; the door slid shut behind me. "Doesn''t look like ab." One of the walls was lined with shelves upon shelves of holotapes. Teddy bears were scattered all around the room - sitting against the walls, lying against the floor, sitting on top of the furniture... and there was even one sitting on the bed situated right in front of me.


    Wait, bed?


    "My collection of... ehm, formography - strictly for research purposes, mind you - it... uh, it only goes so far. There is only so much data that can be collected from holotape, or from radar scan. Once I get to a certain point, the data stops being... fresh. So I''ve been trying to perfect a more detailed data collection procedure, but... I..." D seemed incredibly nervous. "I''m not sure it works. Completely."


    "Do the other members of the Think Tank know about this?" I asked. I looked back at the wall; the shelves went from the floor to the ceiling, taking up all the avable space on the wall, and each one waspletely full. If this ''formography'' was actually what I thought it was, then that was a whole <em>hell</em> of a lot of porn.


    "Oh, my word! No! No, no, no, absolutely not! Quite apart from how repugnant I find them all, they don''t believe formography a legitimate field of research, and what''s more, they''recking the proper..." D looked down again. "...equipment. They would be more useless than normal."


    And that''s when I realized she was looking at my pants.


    "So, you need someone with a body?" I think I could see where this was going...


    "I have tried to calibrate the... erm... the data collection procedure using normal Lobotomites. However, as their higher functions have been removed, they arepletely unsuitable for my needs. They are little more than animalistic lumps of meat, uncoordinated and clumsy." She paused. "Also messy. The data collected is only marginally more stimu- er... <em>informative</em> than what I can see on holotape."


    "Alright, I sure I can help you out. I can be rather graceful, when I need to be. So, where''s this data collection whatever it is?" I asked, looking around the room. D gulped audibly, and the light in her tank flickered.


    "It... it''s <em>me</em>."


    The light on D''s chassis lit up again, and for a moment, I thought she was going to use the tractor beam for something... but no. The beam widened, appearing veryrge - almost asrge as a person... and then, purple cubes made of solid light materialized in the beam,ing together in a manner which I''d seen before only in the Sierra Madre. The cubes grew together into something solid - a woman. A woman with short, messy hair and wearing abcoat materialized in front of me, made entirely out of solid purple light.


    Okay, I was wrong! This is not what I was expecting <em>at all</em>.


    "Is... is this <em>you</em>?" I asked, staring at the hologram standing in front of me. "I mean... is this you from before you... before you..." I couldn''t quite say out loud ''before you put your brain in a jar.'' Something inside of me told me that would be rude.


    "I... I don''t know." D said; when she spoke, the hologram also spoke in time with the brain bot, and I could hear the sounding from both the robot <em>and</em> the hologram.


    "You don''t know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "How do you not know?"


    "I... I think it''s what I used to... but I''m not sure. I''ve forgotten..." D paused, and her hologram looked flustered, screwing up her mouth. "I designed thisposite facsimile based on fragments of data I recovered over several years. But I couldn''t find enough data to provide aplete picture."


    I hesitated for a moment, trying to process what she''d said... and finally decided <strong>not</strong> to bring up the whole ''memory loss'' thing. At least, not right now. Something strange was going on, that much was certain. 8, Borous, Zero, and now D... all of them either directly or indirectly mentioned gaps in their memory. Klein was probably the same, but I... wasn''t really interested in talking with him to find out.


    "So... you''re telling me that this hologram... <em>collects data</em>?" I finally asked, incredulously. The hologram D nodded, and took a step forward; the brain bot followed, keeping it projected.


    "The digitally generated surface structure of the hologram can transmit data, in much the same way as a normal radar scan, but provides a much more detailed image. The way it collects data is modeled after a Lobotomite''s nervous system. There are... gaps, I admit. I have not been able to replicate certain biological functions digitally. Smell. Taste. It can''t replicate the sensation of breathing..." D advanced on me again.


    "What are... what are you..." I began, but trailed off when I realized that the hologram D was lifting one of her hands to press it against my cheek. The holographic fingertips that brushed against my face felt smooth and slightly cold - a bit like ss. The D hologram closed her eyes and shuddered.


    "I have managed to replicate the sensation of... <em>touch</em>." Her lower lip trembled slightly. "But whenever I try to collect data using a normal Lobotomite, they are... they are too rough. Too clumsy. I can''t calibrate properly in time for the more intense... <em>sensations</em>."


    My smile turned truly predatory, as I finally, <em>really</em> figured out where this was going.


    My first thought: <em>This is weird. This is really weird, even for this ce. This is one of those things that seems like a good idea at the time, but then you look back and you realize that you only thought it was a good idea because you''ve drunk half a bottle of Absinthe.</em>


    My second thought: <em>Oh, what the hell. You only live once, right?</em>


    I reached up and touched her cheek, mirroring her gesture. And I gotta say... touching a hologram is the weirdest fucking thing. Seriously, it''s just... yes, it felt like ss. But it <em>moved</em>. It wasn''t rigid and immobile, like you''d expect from something that feels like ss - it had the same kind of give as normal skin. It was just so <em>squishy</em>. And what''s more, as I moved my hand along the holographic surface, I could feel faint tingles and sparks, almost like static electricity arcing into my hand. It was such an alien sensation, <em>and yet...</em>it sent shivers up my spine. I was so fucking confused, because I didn''t understand why I was so turned on, but this was <em>really </em>turning me on.


    "So, you need someone who can be gentle?" I said in a husky whisper, slowly snaking a hand around the hologram''s waist, and drawing myself in closer to her. "Someone who can take you through it, show you what feels the best, step... by... step?" I leaned in, and pursed my lips, blowing softly against her neck. The hologram shivered.


    "It... it would be... hah... most beneficial - ahn! - f-for... for Science..." D bit her lip, and reached behind me with her free hand, pawing feverishly at my back. She took the hand pressed against my cheek and wrapped it around my head, drawing me in closer. I chuckled a little, nibbling softly at her neck; the holographic D let out half a gasp, half a moan, and squirmed in my arms.


    "Whatever you say, darlin..." I muttered with a smile. "Whatever you say..."

 Chapter 101: Patient Log

    Chapter 101: Patient Log


    I''m going to be perfectly honest. The ''list of things which happened today that I wasn''t expecting to have happen today'' got really long that first day in the Big Empty. But heading the list, without a question or shadow of doubt, had to be... well. I''m sure you can guess.


    By the time I got back up to The Sink, it was almost 4 in the morning.


    "Wee home, sir," Jeeves said as I groggily stumbled out of the elevator. I hadn''t bothered to put most of my weapons back after having to discard them in all the fun, and they were slung over my shoulder. Hell, even my armor was hanging loose on me, with hardly any of the buckles... hang on, did I remember my belt? "I trust that sir had a pleasant evening, given that sir is only just returning?"


    "Buh..." I coughed out. "I''m not entirely sure ''pleasant'' is quite the right word, Jeeves." Yes it was. "Exhausting, maybe. Definitely. I''m absolutely <em>spent</em>." I let out a weak chuckle, just as Roxie bounded into the room; she barked at me, and nuzzled her face against one of my legs. I reached down and started scratching her behind the ears.


    "Indeed, sir," Jeeves replied. "If sir is in the mood for some refreshment, I took the liberty of ordering a number ofestibles, which are currently waiting in the fridge for sirs consumption. Or perhaps sir is desirous for me to draw sir a hot bath, to soothe sirs weary and aching bones?"


    "Uh... thanks, that''s very..." I coughed, and stumbled into the next room, dropping the weapons I had slung over my shoulder. "Thanks man, but I''m... I just want to get some sleep. I am <em>so </em>tired..." I peeled off my duster, and tossed it on the couch. Jeeves voice continued speaking to me from a pair of speakers in the ceiling.


    "You are indeed quite the picture of debility and incapacity, if sir will forgive me a momentary impertinence for saying so. Would sir care for an rm call?" I shook my head, finally discarding the rest of my armor ... and flopped down face-first onto the bed. "Very good, sir. Good night, sir." As I slowly sank into the bed, I became vaguely aware that the lights were dimming. Roxie hopped up onto the bed, licked my face twice, and then the massive dog curled up next to me as I drifted off to sleep.


    Squeaking.


    Something is squeaking. Something... what <em>is</em> that?


    I cracked my eyes open as slowly as I could; even this dim light was murder. Everything was fuzzy when I tried to look around...


    Eyes. Tiny, beady eyes were staring at me, no more than a few inches away from my face. A tiny mouth opened up, and let out a dreadful, tinny squeak.


    "WAUGH!" I screamed, as all my senses finally snapped into sharp focus... almost. My limbs iled around uncontrobly, and I slid gracelessly off the bed, hitting the cold metal floor with a thud. As Iy there on the floor between the bed and the wall in a twisted, mangled heap of uncoordinated body parts, a pair of animal faces (and paws) emerged from the top edge of the bed. Roxie looked down at me, clearly happy that I was awake again, and Stripe was also looking at me... his beady eyes and squeaky mouth clearly responsible for getting me up.


    "Good morning, sir," I heard Jeeves'' voice from the speaker in the ceiling. "I took the liberty of setting out some food for sirs pets earlier. However, I do not believe that sirs pets are quite aware of that fact. They seem to me, sir, that they are trying to alert sir of their ravenous appetites."


    "Buh..." I rubbed my face, clutching feverishly at the side of the bed, in a vain attempt to get the rest of my body to work. "What time is it?"


    "The time is precisely seven minutes past ten." There was a pause. "And a bit."


    "Alright..." I dragged myself up into a sitting position. "Okay... I should probably get moving..." I scratched Roxie behind the ears, and she started licking my face. "We should probably start by finding that food, what do you say?"


    Roxie barked her approval.


    There were several things I wanted to get done today. Get more of the technologies for the Think Tank, find some more personality constructs for The Sink, head to X-12 and see if I could find that minigun, and finally, I wanted to travel to Y-17, see if I could piece together more details about the events surrounding Christine, Elijah, and the unknown third party. Only problem was, I couldn''t figure out which one to do first. So, I decided to try something scientific.


    "Hey, Jeeves?" I asked, sliding Roscoe in his holster. "Pick a number between 1 and 4."


    About half a mile south-west from X-8 was the Y-17 medical facility. Or, at least, that''s what I''d been told. When I arrived at the location indicated on my Pip Boy''s map, I started to wonder if, perhaps, this was one of thebs that had gotten up and walked away, because... well... there didn''t seem to be anything here.


    "Hmm..." I muttered, scratching my head. "Well, what do you think, Rox? There''s nothing but craters here... I suppose it could''ve been vaporized by one of those artillery strikes we saw earlier, right?" I looked down - past Stripe sitting on my shoulder - and realized that Roxie was no longer anywhere near my feet.


    "Roxie? Where''d you-" I caught a glimpse of her tail disappearing behind some rubble, and immediately set off in pursuit. That nose of hers had led me straight to Higgs vige, after all. I should probably trust the judgment of the pooch.


    So I followed her tail as best I could. She scampered over and around several piles of rubble, rocks, craters, and finally jumped down out of sight behind a broken concrete wall. I dropped down after her secondster, and quickly realized that, yes, this was definitely Y-17.


    Probably.


    Thing is, most of the <em>building</em> was gone. Reduced to rubble and broken walls. All that was left was a single elevator, with only one way to go: down. Roxie was staring at the door; Stripe jumped off my shoulder and scurried along the concrete ground, also staring at the door as he moved. Honestly? I couldn''t really me them, because what <em>I </em>saw on the door appeared incredibly out of ce.


    "What the..." Something had been drawn on the elevator door in red spray paint. It looked like it had been there a while, but the red was still a vibrant and stark contrast to the dull grays and browns surrounding it. A circle of thirteen stars - arranged in a circle - with a singlerge star in the center; underneath the circle of stars were five stripes going down, almost like w marks. It reminded me a little (okay, okay, a <strong>LOT</strong>) of the American g from before the bombs. But why had the person only used the one color? Wasn''t it supposed to be red, white, and blue?


    I didn''t have much time to contemte the colors of the stars and stripes, because I was interrupted at that point by a very unwee sound. It was the sound of something hissing and rattling, and it wasing from directly above me. I barely had time to look up before the nightstalker was leaping off the top of the elevator and going directly for my face.


    "SON OF A BITCH!" I fell backwards, trying to get out of the way of the ravenous coyote-rattlesnake hybrid. I raised my Pip Boy up to protect my face just in time - its enormous fanged maw mped down on the metalputer attached to my arm, rather than my face. Within seconds, I''d fallen t on my ass with this thing on top of me, trying to swallow the wristputer and my arm along with it - hell, it looked like it was trying to dislocate parts of its jaw to swallow my arm whole!


    "Sorry, I''m not on the menu!" I yelled. In one swift motion, I pulled one of mybat knives out of its sheath, and plunged it into the side of the nightstalkers head. It let out a muffled yelp, and the grip on my arm loosened considerably. It was enough to let me shove it to the side and start to get up.


    And then I heard another pair of rattling tails...


    Six minutester, I was standing in front of the elevator, surrounded by almost a dozen nightstalker corpses.


    "Roxie?" I called out, checking how much ammo I had left. "Stripe? You guys okay?" I still had half a clip for Roscoe, one shell for the sawed-off on my hip, and three bullets for That Gun. I hadn''t used the Ranger Sequoia or the MP5, and the Holorifle was back in The Sink; I only had two microfusion cells left for that one, and I hadn''t found any more yet. Out of everything, the pulse gun and the sonic probably had the most ammo.


    I pulled myst knife out of one of the nightstalkers just in time to see Roxie poke her head out from behind some rubble... and then Stripe poked his head out from behind Rox. It almost looked like the tiny deathw was riding on the cyberdog''s back.


    "Oh good, you two <em>are</em> okay," I wiped the knife on the edge of my duster''s sleeve, and sheathed the knife. I walked over to the elevator, and hit the button. The doors opened almost immediately. "You guys wanna see what''s inside?"


    Ding.


    The elevator doors ground open with a shudder; my MP5 was drawn and at the ready... but I was greeted by nothing but an empty hallway.


    "Huh," I said aloud, lowering the submachine gun. "The way this day was going, I half expected something to attack me." Stripe squeaked from his perch. Of course, he wasn''t on my shoulder anymore - he was still sitting on Roxie''s back, holding onto one of the metal pieces bolted to the cyberdog''s spine.


    The door at the end of the hall slid open when we all got close, and it led into a two-story room, ringed with catwalks along the upper edges of the room, and a metal staircase that led up to the catwalks in the middle of the room. Lining the walls were row after row of machines - servers, terminals, andrge boxes with faded medical symbols printed on the front. In the center of the room, under the stairs and buried beneath a massive pile of rubble was a cylindrical auto-doc, identical to the ones I''d seen in the Sierra Madre.


    "Well now... that looks promising," I said aloud. Over on the right side of the room was a door, that led off to another part of this facility... and it was clearly blocked by a shimmering blue force field. I hooked the MP5 back into the sling under my arm and reached into my duster for the sonic projecto gun. "Time to see if that upgrade is worth the price I paid."


    I pressed my hand against the force field, and it shimmered slightly beneath my palm. This felt much more like a pane of ss - solid and unyielding. Not at all like... well... Yeah. The force field got me thinking aboutst nights shenanigans, and that was all it took to distract me <em>just </em>long enough to get into trouble.


    "Oh, now what''s this then?" I heard a robotic voice sound off directly behind me. "A new patient? Excellent! I haven''t had the chance to operate in <em>ages</em>!" Before I knew what was happening, a metal w like a vice mped itself down hard around my neck and pulled - lifting me off my feet and dragging me off to fuck all knows where.


    "Wh- HEY! Put me down!" I yelled, dropping the sonic by ident and reaching up to try and clutch at the metal w. I strained to keep the muscles in my neck tight so I wouldn''t choke to death; I was, after all, several feet off the ground and held aloft only by my neck. I eventually managed to twist around so I could get a look at what was holding me.


    It was a Mr. Handy, but not like any I''d ever seen before. It had a white painted chassis, red eyes on the end of its three eye-stalks, and a <em>lot</em> more than just three arms. Most of the arms ended in a dizzying array of medical tools - or was I dizzy from theck of cirction to my head?


    "Now, now, don''t struggle!" The robot said, extending one of it''s eye stalks down to my face. "I am a trained professional, and there''s no need for you to worry. Once we get you on the operating table, we can remove that ugly, misshapen tumor on the end of your neck in a jiffy!" As it spoke, one of the arms came at me - and the buzz saw on the end started to wind up. Instinctively, I took one of my hands away from the w around my neck and grabbed the arm with the buzz saw, pushing against it with all my strength to keep it as far away from my head as I could.


    This was all happening so fast, and I was getting so dizzy, that I hadn''t had a chance to grab any of my guns before the buzz saw came at my face - and now, both my hands were upied. It didn''t look good, honestly. But luckily I had an ace up my sleeve that even I didn''t realize I had.


    Clunk!


    "Oh my word!" The robot eximed. "Who are you?" The three eye stalks looked away form me, and pointed inward - looking squarely at the tiny deathw that hadnded on top of the robot. Stripe let out a single squeak... and then proceeded to rip the closest eye stalk to shreds.


    The robot screamed. The buzz saw stopped spinning. And best of all? The w opened up, letting me go. There was just one problem. I wasn''t expecting the drop, and I was several feet in the air when it let me go, so I ended up looking rather silly and fell t on my ass.


    "Ow! Stop it! OW! Mother of - That''s hardly Marquess of Queensbury rules, now is it?! <strong>OW</strong>!" I heard the robot yell from above me. I shook my head to try and get the blood flowing again, and looked up. The white Mr. Handy was iling around in the air, spinning around and shaking madly; the anti-grav jets in the bottom were spluttering, every once in a while belching out a burst of blue me that sent it in a random direction. Stripe, on the other hand, was merrilytched to the top of the robot, ripping into the chassis, tearing it to pieces. Wires and scrap metal rained down until finally the robot gave onest shudder, and the whole thing came crashing to the ground.


    I eventually got up, still rubbing my throat and coughing. I started walking to the twisted hunk of metal that used to be a Mr. Handy... and was amazed when parts of the metal shifted, and out popped Stripe,pletely unfazed. He was still chewing on a few wires as he trotted along the ground to me.


    "Man," I coughed, kneeling down to the tiny deathw. "You are quite the little gremlin, aren''t you?" I began to pet his mohawk and he squeaked happily before scuttling up my arm to sit on my shoulder. I shook my head andughed. "Alright, where the hell is that damn dog? She''s been disappearing a lot..."


    "Bark!"


    I looked up to one of the catwalks; Roxie was looking down at me through the metal bars. She barked twice, and turned away, wagging her tail. I rushed up the stairs to find out what she''d found.


    "Alright, alright, what''s so important?" I asked, walking up to the cyberdog. She was sitting next to a desk, that was strewn with trash and discarded pencils next to a broken terminal. At first I didn''t know what was so important... and then she put both paws on the desk, pointing with her nose at a box. A very familiar looking box, with a white hexagon on the top.


    "Huh..." I picked up the box, and sure enough - another personality chip was nestled safely inside it. I smirked, snapping the box shut. "Good dog."


    "Alright," I picked the discarded sonic pistol up off the ground. "Let''s try this again..." I cast one final nce around, just in case there were any more insane robots around, and leveled the pistol at the force field.


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    That didn''te from Roxie - it came from the <em>sonic</em>. A wave of blue energy burst from the emitter, and the barking sound travelled with it, creating a strange sort of Doppler effect. The energy struck the field, and it rippled in exactly the same way the surface of ake would if you threw a stone into it. It crackled with a wave of electricity, and began to rapidly de-materialize, starting at the point of impact and only ending once it was all gone.


    "Not bad," I said, walking through the now open door, and putting the energy pistol back in the holster. "Guess that upgrade really... did..." I trailed off, finally looking around this new room.


    I was in a prison. The walls were lined withputers and terminals, sure, but the middle of the room was nothing but cages. Metal bars that ran from the floor to the ceiling, barely wide enough to even stick your hand through. They were all empty, but it was still... slightly disturbing. Wasn''t this supposed to be a medical facility? Why would it need a prison? Unless...


    I shook it off and moved on. If my hunch was right, then there was something here that might help me follow in Christine''s footsteps. This building was almost certainly where she''d been operated on. I''d be willing to bet that she''d spent some time in these cells either before or after the robots cut her head open.


    I walked around the room, past the different cells, and my foot brushed against something metallic; I looked down, and saw several spent rifle casings littering the floor. Yep. This definitely seemed like the right ce.


    I came to one of the cells in the middle of the row. Unlike most of the others, the door had been forced open... and there was something else. A chalk drawing on one of the concrete pirs. It was small, but I was able to recognize it once I got close enough: a Brotherhood of Steel symbol. It wasn''t quite like the others I''d seen. There was the sword and the wings, yes, but instead of a set of three cogs behind the sword''s de inside a circle, there was just one cogwheel, and it <em>was</em> the circle.


    My foot disturbed the filthy mattress on the floor when I knelt down to get a look at the chalk drawing, and something metallic began to poke out. Roxie leaned in around me, sniffing the air as I picked it up.


    "A holotape?" I asked aloud, turning it over in my hands. There was a smallbel on the top - it wasn''t handwritten like most holotapebels, but obviously printed by a machine: <em>Patient Log: Y-17.0</em>. Without hesitation, I plugged it into my Pip Boy, and started to y the recording.


    "This is Christine Royce," an unfamiliar female voice began. "Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel... the Circle."


    My first thought was <em>That doesn''t sound like Christine</em>. But then, I remembered: <em>Oh, wait. Dean cut out her original voice box and gave her the voice of Vera Keyes, didn''t he? Of course she doesn''t... this must be what she </em>used<em> to sound like. </em>The recording continued, with her sighing heavily.


    "Not going to make it through this. I hope someone finds this message... gets it to the Brotherhood in the West," Christine cleared her throat. "I tracked a rogue Brotherhood Elder - Elijah - here, to the Big Empty." She sighed again. "This ce is more than it seems. There''s a crater hidden deep inside... a junkyard of Pre-Warbs scattered across the crater''s surface, all still running... like... like <em>this</em> one. Elijah has been dissecting these centers, one by one... I managed to track him down to one in particr. An old Chinese-American internment camp. Little Yangtze, I think..."


    An <em>internment</em> camp. I guess that''s what Zero meant when he''d called it a "human farm."


    "There were survivors. Ghouls. All of them were fitted with bomb cors. The robots moved in when I tried to intercept him... and Elijah sent the camp ghouls against us <em>both</em>. Like... like walking bombs. I lost him. Got him by an explosion. Woke up here." Christine paused. "Guess the medical robots were programmed to bring wounded victims form the camp to this center. Y-17. Some kind of Auto-Doc prototypeb... manned by corpses trapped inside suits that keep them moving. No idea why."


    I immediately looked over my shoulder. Knowing my luck, that would be the <em>precise </em>moment that one of those Trauma Harnesses that I''d heard about (but hadn''t yet seen) would show up. Thankfully, I was just being paranoid. They must have all wandered away... which meant I wouldn''t be able to predict just how or where I''d run into them...


    Joy.


    "Not sure how long I''m going tost... they..." she grunted, and I heard some indistinct shuffling on the recording. "...cut open my head like a lot of the humans I''ve seen here. Feel... <em>strange.</em> I can talk, but I... I can''t hack the term-" The recording suddenly was interrupted by a burst of static, and some other sound I couldn''t quite ce. "... wait. An explosion? That was an explosion. Outside. Someone''s here... someo-"


    The recording ended abruptly.


    Ding.


    "Well, I suppose that''s why the top levels of this ce aren''t here anymore," I said aloud as I stepped out of the elevator, looking around. Roxie barked in reply. Stripe squeaked from his perch on Roxie''s back; he''d hopped off my shoulder during the elevator ride.


    "Yep. Blown to smithereens." Iughed to myself. I always liked that word - smithereens. It was one of those inherently funny words (like bamboozle or kumquat), but I hardly ever got the chance to use it. "Kinda makes me wonder just who this... other guy... is..." I trailed off. Despite my amusement at being able to use the word smithereens, the pit of my stomach dropped out. And that was <em>never </em>good news.


    Something was buzzing. A shrill buzz that was loud... A very familiar, and <em>very</em> unwee sound, just like the rattling I''d hearding from the nightstalker earlier. I turned to face the sound... and there, perched on top of the elevator, in almost the same ce as the first nightstalker, was a <strong>cazador</strong>.


    "FUCK!" I yelled, pulling the sawed off out of my hip holster and breaking into a sprint away from the giant insect. "Rox! <strong>RUN</strong>!" I fired off myst shotgun shell, but it barely seemed to even stagger the giant bug. The buzzing got louder and it lifted off the elevator. The chase was on.


    I started running. Thankfully, Roxie had taken my advice and was loping along ahead of me; she was going so fast, that I felt I could barely keep pace... but somehow, I managed to pour on enough speed to do just that. Behind me I could hear the cazador buzzing as it flitted through the air in pursuit.


    Something interesting to note: I didn''t appreciate it at the time, but when I reyed the scene in my headter... I realized that I wasn''t <em>actually</em> scared ''in the moment'' as it happened. I recognized that the cazador was a dangerous, imminent threat, but... I didn''t have that surge of adrenaline, and my mind wasn''t screaming at me like I would be if I was truly afraid. My mind was clear, and I was able to think, free of fear, and I suppose that''s what helped me think clearly enough to navigate.


    "Rox!" I called out as I ran over pipes and darted around rocky outcrops and rubble. "I hope you have an idea, because I got nothing!" I pulled Roscoe out of his holster and let off a few badly aimed shots to try and buy me some time as I kept running. The cazador just seemed to dart through the air, as if dodging the shots.


    I let out a string of expletives that would''ve made Cass blush, and holstered Roscoe - only to realize that I''d lost Roxie. It didn''t matter. The only thing that mattered was that I had to keep running. I''d find Roxie-


    "WHOA!" The ground dropped out from under me, and I suddenly found myself falling. I crashed against a hard stone wall, and hit my head before finallying to rest - once again - on my ass. "Augh! Fucking - gah! Son of a..." I clutched my head, and tried to look around through one open eye. "Where the fu-" The buzzing was directly overhead. I shut up, still clutching my head. And then, the buzzing passed. Everything was quiet. I sighed, and looked around in earnest.


    I was in a cave. Or... something. There was adder, and directly above me was a hatch made out of metal, but this was definitely... I couldn''t tell if this cave was natural, or... Whatever it was, I was thankful for the unexpected save. And even more thankful when Roxie appeared next to me from nowhere and started licking my face.


    "Ugh..." I grunted out with a smile, scratching the dog below Stripe''s foot; the tiny deathw was still clinging Roxie''s neck, riding on her back. "Warn me next time you''re gonna do that, that fucking <strong>hurt</strong>..." Iughed, and Roxie whined, nuzzling her face against me. "Alright, alright, thanks for the save, girl. So, what is this ce?"


    I clutched at the rock wall, trying to pick myself up. There was a tunnel opposite thedder that led deeper into the cave... and now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see that there was a faint lighting from within.


    "Huh..." I said, letting go of my head and giving it a decent shake. "Wonder what''s behind door number one..."


    It was a hideout. If the wall of sandbags at the entrance was anything to go by, it was a very well fortified hideout, made by someone either unnecessarily paranoid, or <em>properly</em> paranoid. The light wasing from the nters all around the cave, filled with bioluminescent mushrooms that lit up the ce in a dull green glow. There were several shelves filled with tools, ammo cans, and various other bits of detritus. Two old US Army bedrolls were on the ground, on either end of the cave, with the remains of a long extinguished campfire between them. And I only knew they were US Army bedrolls because they were dark green, and had a white Army star with "PROPERTY OF THE US ARMY" written in stenciled paint in the corner.


    The strangest thing were the gs. The most obvious was an actual American g, and it was hanging on the cave wall above one of the bedrolls. It was tattered and faded, butpletely unmistakable. What were less obvious were the g <em>symbols</em>. They were roughly the same kind of g symbol I''d seen on the elevator door, and they were drawn all over the inside of the cave... it was almost like whoever had drawn them was practicing them over and over again until they got it right. Red symbols... blue symbols... white symbols...


    "You find something?" I asked, realizing that Roxie was sniffing the ground, near a pair of open (and sadly, empty) ammo boxes. I knelt down to look at what she was interested in... and found another pair of holotapes. They had identicalbels as the one I''d seen before: <em>Patient Log: Y-17.5</em> and <em>Patient Log: Y-17.9</em>.


    I decided to y number 5 first.


    "... don''t want to argue philosophy with you," I heard Christine say. The holotape must have been corrupted or something - it sounded like it started in the middle of another recording. "The Brotherhood are preservationists. Tech in the wrong hands... it''s, it''s <em>dangerous</em>. I mean, look at the Mojave! That''s <em>proof</em> right there!"


    The voice that spoke next was... different. To say the least. It was strong. Deep. Impossibly masculine. And almostpletely <em>monotone</em>. I could tell... <em>somehow</em>... that the owner of this gravelly, deep voice was a man who had seen much, and lost even <em>more</em>. I don''t know how I knew that, but... there was just no emotion in his words - except maybe exhaustion. Like everything had just been wrung out of him.


    It frightened me more than the cazador.


    "No denying that. Proof''s here in this crater, all around us. Your tribe, the Brotherhood - haven''t met many of you. Wanted to. Thought you might be thest chance for the Mojave... the West. The East. But you''re all the same mind. Obsessed."


    "Elijah is obsessed!" Christine spat back. "He''s mad! It''s why the other Elders ordered his execution." The other unnamed voice grunted.


    "Two are more alike than you know. Too wrapped up in the wrong bits of history to see ahead." He paused for a long time. "Not judging. I know how it is. People are like couriers, you and him. Sometimes don''t even know the message they bring. You all had a new g. Thought maybe new ideas along with it. What you believe isn''t any better than the Bear or Bull. No future in either."


    "So says the man with the Old World g on his back," Christine snorted. "America... the Commonwealth. <em>Burned away</em>."


    "America sleeps," the other voice growled. "And until it''s dead, I carry it. Just like I carried you. More than hope. Belief. There''s voices here in the Big Empty. I want to talk to them. Not like your Elijah did. Got questions. Want to hear history give its answer."


    The recording clicked off. I was rooted in ce. Even Roxie and Stripe seemed to have been transfixed by it.


    "Who <em>is</em> this guy?" I whispered aloud. Roxie lied down, setting her head on her paws. I grabbed the other holotape, and started the yback.


    "Huh..." Christine sighed, almost like she was relieved. "Didn''t think you''d make it back."


    "Almost didn''t," the other voice grunted out. "Got my answers. Your Elijah, he met the Gods in this ce. Did a good job of making them question the way of things."


    "Do you know where he went?" Christine asked urgently, and I realized - she wasn''t relieved that this guy who saved her, whoever he was, was safe, but that her <em>lead</em> was still intact.


    "He''s gone to the Sierra Madre," the other voice said simply. "That''s a special kind of hell. He won''te back. Someone smarter, tougher''s going to kill him. If the Madre doesn''t."


    Iughed softly to myself; well, I suppose that would mean I qualified, since I killed the son of a bitch, in the end...


    "I have to go after him." Christine''s voice was forceful, resolute. There was a very long pause before the other voice spoke again.


    "Not going to talk you out of it. Know what it means to track someone you share history with. Got a meeting of my own."


    "That courier?" Christine asked. The other voice grunted out a "hmm," before speaking again properly.


    "Get him toe to me. Got a message for him, like the message he had for me. Make him walk the road West, straight and true. Sink his feet in Old World ash. Let storms tear at him. See the Divide. See what happened."


    My blood ran cold. Another courier... was he talking about... No... no, he couldn''t be talking about... that''s just not possible...


    "The Divide?" Christine asked, confusion evident in her voice. "But... there''s nothing <em>there</em>..."


    "Nothing there?" The other voice asked. "Like the Big Empty? The Sierra Madre?" He grunted again. "No... no, the Old World sleeps there. Sure as the g I carry. Courier Six knows the way."


    WHAT.


    "And at the Divide, he and I - there, we''ll have an ending to things."

 Chapter 102: Heavy Weapon

    Chapter 102: Heavy Weapon


    After the bouncing bombshell thatnded in myp once I''d finished listening to those holotapes, I needed something to properly distract me. And what better distraction than installing the next personality chip I''d found? I wonder who (or what) I was going to find <em>this</em> time?


    Click.


    The chip slid firmly into ce next to the others, and the hologram above Jeeves'' table shifted from bars to a series of floating, three-dimensional words.


    INSTALLING PERSONALITY:


    -AUTO-DOC


    "Whu-hurm?" I heard a synthetic voice from just behind me cough and snort... almost like it was waking up from a long nap. I turned to face the noise, and realized that the floor-to-ceiling box with the medical logo printed on the door was now lit up; the terminal on the side was glowing,plete with lines of code scrolling along the screen, "Hmph... Well how about that? Ol'' Auto-Doc''s back on line..." The robot sniffed, and grunted again. "Well, all right,e here. Let''s have a look at you."


    "An Auto-Doc, huh?" I asked, approaching the machine cautiously. "You wouldn''t happen to be the one responsible for removing my organs, would you?" Well, that''s good. If I could mention <em>that</em> so casually, it must mean I was starting to get numb to the absurdity of this nuthouse.


    Wait. That <em>isn''t</em> a good thing, is it? I feel like that shouldn''t be a good thing.


    "Am I?" The Auto-Doc said, sounding as confused as I felt. "Well, it''s certainly possible. I do a lot of surgeries around here. Especially organ transnts, and brain extractions. After a while, they all... just sort of... <em>mesh</em> together." The Auto-Doc coughed again. "I can''t be expected to remember every little stitch and suture I make over the years."


    "Y''know, for a doctor, you''re pretty blunt." I said, raising an eyebrow. The Auto-Doc coughed out augh.


    "Yeah... Mobius was never big on that whole ''bedside manner'' most doctors futz around with. He always seemed to think brilliant medical expertise and a gentle hand holding the scalpel would speak for itself, and I guess that rubbed off on me. I suppose you could say that what Ick in charm and eptable social graces, I make up for with careful, methodical, and precise care, providing wholeness of the body no matter the seriousness of the injury." The Auto-Doc paused. "I can also provide one hell of a haircut."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I said with a smirk. The Auto-Doc coughed again. Hang on - why is it coughing if it doesn''t have a mouth?


    "Well, if that''s all you''ll be needing from me for the moment, I think I''ll catch me a little shut-eye..." the machine yawned drowsily, and promptly started snoring.


    "Wh- hang the fuck on, I just activated you! How are you tired already?" It didn''t respond. It just kept snoring. I shook my head and sighed, turning back to the hologram table in the center of the room. "Ugh. Whatever. Jeeves?" The bars on top of the table materialized into ce as soon as the sink central intelligence began speaking.


    "Yes sir?"


    "Bring up a map of the crater. I want to see thest known location of the X-12 facility, as well as the Little Yangtze internment camp." The hologram immediately changed to that same holographic map of the crater I''d seen yesterday.


    "Right away, sir." As he spoke, two red dots began to sh on the map. X-12 looked fairly close to the central dome, if the map was actually to scale... That was lucky, since I was nning on heading there first anyway. "If you will forgive me a moments impropriety, sir, might I inquire as to the why-ness of sir''s request?"


    "Little Yangtze is the best lead I have to piece together Elijah''s footsteps," I said, inputting the coordinates into my Pip Boy. "And knowing that crafty old bastard, I''m gonna need as much firepower as I can carry to deal with whatever traps he may have set. If the terminal entry in X-8 was anything to go by, then there''s a gun locked in X-12. A very <em>big</em> gun. And I''m gonna get my hands on it. Now..." I whistled, looking around the room. "Roxie? Stripe? Where the hell are those two..."


    "Elijah, sir?" Jeeves asked hesitantly. "I do not recall any persons named ''Elijah'' in my databanks. Who is this Elijah of which you speak?"


    I didn''t say anything at first. I just grabbed the G36 I''d set down earlier, and checked to make sure it was loaded before slinging it over my shoulder. Satisfied that I had enough guns for the moment, I turned on my heel towards the elevator. Roxie and Stripe had evidently disappeared, and since I wanted to get all this done before nightfall, I didn''t have time to wait.


    "He''s dead, Jeeves." I replied over my shoulder. "Elijah''s dead."


    "Huh... well, that''s... different."


    I''d expected X-12''s front door to be blocked off by a force field or something, based on what I''d read on the terminal earlier. So when I stepped <em>through </em>the front door and onto a catwalk - with a force field creating a <em>floor</em> several inches beneath the catwalk - I was more than a little bit confused. I''d never seen a force field <em>floor</em> before.


    Ah well. A force field is a force field. I pulled out the sonic, took aim, and...


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    The floor evaporated in a crackle of electricity; all of the debris that had collected over the years since the force field activated unexpectedly found themselves suspended in the air with nothing holding them aloft. It made for quite the racket when they all suddenly decided to sumb to gravity.


    "Welp, so much for subtlety..." I muttered, shrugging the G36 off my shoulder and into my hands. I started walking down the metal stairs, mentally making note of the signs on the walls as I descended... Level 1... sub-level 1... sub-level 2... sub-level 3... There were lots of terminals on each level, lots of hallways, lots of servers... but not much else. I mean, yeah - I found another of those boxes that contained a personality chip, but other than that? It was eerily deserted...


    "So, where the fuck is this thing?" I said aloud as I wandered through the bottom level, starting to get a little bit impatient. "It''s armed with a <strong>minigun</strong>, I thought it''d be on my ass within <em>seconds</em> of disabling the force field..."


    "Hey!" A strangely robotic voice said. "Who turned out the lights?"


    "Well, what do you know!" I said with a smile, adjusting my grip on the G36, welding the stock into my arm, and taking aim into the darkness where I''d heard the voice. "Tempting fate like that really <em>does</em> work!"


    Thump. Thump. Thump.


    Something vaguely humanoid started shambling out of the darkness, walking forward with plodding, rhythmic footfalls. When it stepped into the light, I could see that it was wearing a red rubber bodysuit, with dark grey gloves - and the minigun was gripped firmly in its hands. There was a small, blinking green light shing at the neck... and everything <em>above</em> the neck was slightly disturbing. Instead of a proper helmet, it looked like it was wearing a ss fishbowl... and inside was a <em>skull</em>. I wasn''t entirely certain how the skull was staying upright inside the helmet, to be honest, but it was.


    "Well now," I said, tilting my head to the side. "Wasn''t expecting <strong>that</strong>."


    "Hey!" The trauma harness said again, turning in my direction; the inflection was exactly the same as before, so it was probably a recording. "Who turned out the lights?" It took aim with the minigun, and the six barrels pointing at me started to spin...


    "Whoops!" I ran in the opposite direction, heading for a nearby desk. "Time to go!" I vaulted over the desk and rolled when I hit the floor. The instant the minigun started firing was obvious: the bark of lead being fired through the air at extremely high velocity and hitting nearly everything metal around me waspletely unmistakable.


    Right, this was rapidly turning into a distinctly sticky situation. It may only be moving at a cial pace, but it would eventually find it''s way back here. I could always just huck a grenade it''s way, but that might damage the minigun - the very reason I was down here in the first ce. I looked around, trying to find a decent escape route, maybe get around to nk it...


    Suddenly, the bark of minigun fire ceased.


    "Hey! Who turned out the lights?" Thump. Thump. Thump. The footfalls were getting close, but it had stopped firing. With the amount of time the gun would need to spin back up to speed, this was a golden opportunity!


    "Hey, <em>numbskull</em>!" I yelled, running out of cover and taking aim on the move. "I''ve got a <em>bone</em> to pick with you!" I snapped off a few shots into its center mass as it tried to bring the massive gun to bear; if the sound was any indication, the bullets just went straight through. Which meant I would probably have to cut its limbs off, just like the Ghost People.


    "Hey! Who turned out the lights?" I vaulted up the stairs as the minigun started spinning up again. Once more, the air was full of the sounds of gunfire, and just as before, I was quicker than it could aim. I managed to duck behind a massive server on the level above, which took the brunt of the fire; the ancientputer was peppered with bullets before the minigun stopped firing again.


    "What''s the matter?" I said from my hiding spot with a massive grin on my face. "Don''t have the <em>stomach</em> to aim properly? Oh, I guess not! Don''t worry, I''m sure you can <em>bone </em>up your skills in time!"


    I had a n for dealing with this thing. Only issue? I had to get close enough to it without getting torn to shreds by minigun fire. Solution? Get <em>it</em> toe to <em>me</em>. And nothing gets people to make mistakes faster than a string of awful, awful puns. Hopefully, it''ll work just as well on an ancient minigun-wielding skeleton inside an automatic robot suit.


    "Hey!" It said, lumbering up the stairs, taking the bait. "Who turned out the lights?"


    "You know," I kicked off the back wall and ran straight at the entrance to a nearby hallway. "I think you just need to try harder <em>tibia</em> good shot!" As if to punctuate the point, the wall I''d been running against was hit with another hail of bullets - none of which hit me before I managed to duck into the hallway and out of sight. "Come on! Don''t you find all this the least bit <em>humerus</em>?"


    I was having entirely too much fun.


    "Hey! Who turned out the lights?" It was at the entrance of the hallway now, trying to follow me - and I was waiting around the next corner. Thump. Thump. Thump. "Hey! Who turned out the lights?"


    SMASH!


    My fist hit the dome with enough force that the ss cracked beneath my knuckles. It stumbled backward, the minigun falling out of its hands to the floor with a heavy crash, and the skull rolled around listlessly inside the ss dome.


    "IT WAS ME!" I yelled with augh, standing over the copsed trauma harness. I finally got a close look at the inside of the dome; the skull was held in ce by a thin web of white strands extending from inside the suit''s body, almost like spider-web thread. Several of the threads lined the inside of the bowl as well, but only on the edges closest to the body. The green light at the base of the fish-bowl-helmet began to flicker faster as it tried to grab at me and get back up.


    "H-h-h-he-e-he-e-e-he-hey-y-y-y-" It stammered out. "Who-o-o-o-o tu-ur-u-u-ur-" Ittched itself onto my leg with one of its arms; I just sighed.


    "Sorry buddy," I reached behind me and pulled out the proton axe, flicking the switch. Purple lightning began arcing along the axe''s edge. "But you''re not quite <em>carpal</em>able enough to deal with me." I sliced clean through its arms with the axe, as well as the legs, and decapitated it for good measure. Each of the stumps let out that familiar green gas I''d seen when I''d chopped the limbs off the Ghost People. When I was done, all that was left was a mass of sticky white meat, white threads, and bone.


    "Hey sexy, c''mere..." I clicked off the proton axe, sticking it back in its ce in my belt, and started walking over to the discarded minigun. "Oooh! Got some weight on ya, girl..."


    I looked down at the weapon as I held it in my hands, finally getting a good look at it. It was a six-barrel minigun with a chainsaw grip, a joystick trigger, an absolutely enormous cylindrical ammo drum on the bottom, and in front of the ammo drum was... a braincase. I suppose that made a bit of sense. I mean this was a <em>cyberdog</em> gun, and that was probably the <em>brain</em> from a cyberdog. On either side of the chainsaw grip were two small ps on hinges; between the chainsaw grip and the joystick trigger was a tiny screen, and a smaller speaker... which proceeded to beep at me when I picked it up.


    "DNA scan recognized: Human user detected." a robotic, androgynous sounding voice spoke up at me; as it spoke, the two ps twitched, reminding me a bit of the movement of dog ears. "Initiating startup sequence..."


    "Startup sequence?" I asked aloud, not entirely sure what it meant. Before I could wonder any further, I heard a series of barkse from underneath the gun, from somewhere near the braincase. A few lines starting quickly scrolling on the tiny screen... and then the gun began to <em>speak</em>. Or rather, it began to <em>bellow</em>.


    "<strong>GREETINGS, TINY MAN</strong>!" The words issued out of the speaker on top, barking at me in a deep, gruff, masculine voice, heavily ented with an obvious Russian cadence. "I am Heavy Weapon, designate: K-9000 Cyberdog Gun! But you may call me..." It paused dramatically. "...<em></em>."


    I blinked several times, utterly confused.


    "Sasha?" I asked, not entirely certain I heard it right. The dog brain barked again, and the gun continued to speak.


    "We kill many members of enemy team together, yes?" As it spoke, the ''ears'' twitched again, and I could hear a strange pantinging from the brain underneath the barrels.


    "Uh... sure?" I offered up helpfully, still a bit confused. The gunughed heartily.


    "!" It eximed excitedly.


    To this day, I still have no idea what any of this had to do with a horror show.


    The trip to Little Yangtzee was rtively uneventful. Sasha was in my hands,plete with a strap slung over my shoulder to help me hold the enormously heavy gun. asionally, I''d hear some panting from the dog brain under the barrels. So, as I trekked the long walk over the broken and scarred terrain of the Big Empty with the minigun in hand, I decided to take this opportunity to strike up a conversation with my gun.


    I''m fairly certain no one has <strong>ever</strong> said that before.


    "Alright, I got a question for ya," I said to the gun in my hands. The ears on either side of the chainsaw grip perked up at my voice. "You used to be a dog, right? Do you know what kind of dog you used to be?" The gun was silent for several seconds. There was a soft sniffing sounding from the braincase underneath the barrels.


    "I... do not know for sure." The gun said eventually. "I spoke with many scientists before my capture by walking corpse. One said I was retriever. Another said I wasb." The gun paused. "Is possible he did not understand question."


    "Maybe you were a mixed breed?" I offered up helpfully. The brain barked.


    "Could be. All I know for certain? I was brought to country from the Mother Russia. I like to think I was Siberian Husky dog, when I still had legs and tail, though - would make me, how you Americans say, Husky Russkie?" The gun startedughing.


    "That''s another thing I''m confused about," I shook my head. "Wasn''t Russia from before the bombsmunist? Kind of like China? How''d the scientists even get a hold of you?"


    "Not all Russiansmunist!" The gun said, the brain beneath the barrels barking again. "I remember old owner. Big man. Like bear. Huge, shaved bear, that hated people. Mikhail was name. He was mercenary from Dzhugdzhur Mountains in Siberia. Hid family from KGB andmunists for many years. He-"


    The gun suddenly stopped speaking; it was so surprising that I stopped in my tracks, and looked down at the minigun. The two metal ears were wiggling up and down furiously, and I could hear a strange sniffinging from the brain.


    "What?" I asked. "What is it?" The brain started growling.


    "I smell enemy team. Eety-beety-teeny-tiny baby men areing!"


    "Well then," I flipped the switch on top of the joystick, and the barrels started to spin. "Guess it''s time for us to go to work, eh Sasha? Whaddaya say?" The brain started barking, and the gun startedughing.


    "Wah-hah-hah-hah-hah-haaa! Now is coward killing time!"


    Sure enough, a trio of lobotomites (nked by a pair of cyberdogs) emerged from behind a nearby rocky outcropping, and started running straight at me. I nted my feet, took aim with the spinning minigun and pulled the trigger.


    I''ll tell you right now - <em>firing </em>Sasha was an entirely different experience from being<em> shot at</em> by Sasha. The sound up close was like amplified thunder,pletely drowning out everything. The shock ran up both my arms as it unleashed a fuside of bullets at the oing enemies, tearing them to shreds. A hail of spent shells spat themselves out of the side like water from a fire hose, and littered the ground all around my feet. Everything in front of me instantly became riddled with holes; the lobotomites and cyberdogs turning to scrap metal and red paste. The closest of them only got 10 feet away before they exploded into a shower of gore and a pile of ludicrous gibs.


    "Vzzzzzt! Rahrahrahrah! Vrrrrr! Wah-hah-haaaaaa!" Sasha continued to yell, even after I let go of the trigger and the gun finally stopped firing. The end of the barrels were glowing red, and it hissed loudly as steam issued up off the hot metal, spiraling into the sky in curly clouds. "We make good team!"


    "So, this is Little Yangtze, huh?" I asked, standing on top of a hill and looking down. I didn''t really need any conformation, it was<em> obvious </em>I was in the right ce - and I doubt Sasha knew the answer anyway.


    Little Yangtze was a massive, sprawlingplex housing row after row of ancient tents. Thick, rusty iron fences topped with coil after coil of razor wire ringed the outer edge of the camp on all sides. A rusted, dented gpole (conspicuously missing a g) stuck out of the center of the camp. Just north of the gpole was what I thought was an open patch of ground... and then I looked closer, and realized that the ground was covered in gravestones. South of the gpole were a row of outhouses; most of them were broken or half-buried in the ground, and <em>all</em> of them were covered in ayer of obvious toxic filth.


    I knelt down, scanning the area... and I also set Sasha against the ground, to try and take some of the strain off. For as useful as it was, the gun was <em>stupidly</em> heavy. It certainly lived up the name ''Heavy Weapon'' I guess...


    "Hmm... Let''s see. If I was Elijah, where would I be?" Most of the camp inside the fence I ruled out. Yes, it seemed secure - those fences (and the razor wire especially) would keep things <em>out</em> just as well as they''d keep prisoners <em>in</em> - but there wasn''t anything there that was tactically viable. What would he want? Something defensible, probably. Something that would give him amanding view of as much of the surrounding area as possible, definitely. And technology - some kind of advanced old world tech that he''d want to use...


    "There," I said aloud, pointing at a watch tower on the eastern edge of the camp. "That''s where he''d be." Apart from the hill I was on now, the watch tower was the highest thing near the camp by far. There was only one way up - a single set of stairs - and only one door that led inside the watchtower (that I could see). Sticking out of the roof was an obvious and conspicuous antenna array, coupled with a satellite dish. The only strange thing? Even from this distance, I could tell that all the windows had been boarded up.


    "We go to capture point?" Sasha asked as I picked the minigun back up. I nodded.


    "Yes indeed, Sasha. Let''s go ''capture'' that tower." The ears on the gun twitched, and the brain started panting.


    "Not usually my job, but... eheheh..."


    I pushed the door of the watchtower open as carefully as I could... while standing just to the side. Sure enough, there was a bang, and the door was peppered with buckshot.


    I knew there''d be at least <em>one </em>trap still intact. The whole area surrounding the watch tower was like a battlefield. It was littered with hundreds (and I do literally mean <em>hundreds</em>)of broken robot scraps, pieces of long-since rotten away body parts, and the telltale signs of exploded mines (among other types of explosives) scarring the ground. The amount of mines and explosives he must have set around this watch tower had to have been absolutely <em>absurd</em>. Were there this many explosives <em>in the world</em>?


    "More traps?" Sasha asked as I cautiously peeked around the door. The string that triggered the shotgun trap was lying broken on the ground, and I didn''t see anything else in the immediate vicinity...


    "Don''t think so..." I said eventually. That seemed more like ast-ditch kind of trap, and I don''t think he''d have anything else in his <em>actual</em> base. Still... I took things slow.


    "Makes no difference. We find more traps, I will destroy tiny coward toys!" The brain barked enthusiastically.


    The interior of the watchtower was somehow both Spartan and a cluttered mess. There was a workbench, a terminal, an old ham radio, a pair of shelves for tools and parts, some ammo cans, a single bedroll... At first nce, it didn''t appear that there was anything here that wasn''t needed. And yet, all the tools and parts were scattered everywhere, along with several dozen <em>bomb cors</em> in various states of assembly (or, more likely, <em>dis</em>assembly).


    I pulled the strap off my shoulder, and set the massive gun on the workbench next to the terminal. The metal ears drooped, and I heard the brain whimper.


    "Aw... Why did you set me down? I like being held! Is fun! Makes me think there are cowards nearby that need killing!" I chuckled, and patted the (thankfully cool) barrel.


    "I know, I know. But this terminal might have some information on it that I need, and I can''t look at it <em>and</em> carry you at the same time." I booted up theputer, fully expecting some kind of password screen, or firewall that I''d have to hack into... but no. Amazingly enough, it waspletely unlocked. So I started reading the entries...


    <em>-Log Entry 01</em>


    <em>The government shipped in the first batch of dissidents today. Three whole trainloads of Communist infiltrators. Half of them don''t even speak English, so we had to show them where to go with our nightsticks. They got the point eventually. The docs are already talking about "research subjects." Guess that''ll help advance the war effort.</em>


    <em>-Log Entry 02</em>


    <em>One of the prisoners who speaks a little English - I guess he''s be the unofficial spokesman - came to themandant''s office today screaming about hungry ghosts snatching his people up in the night. Themandant told him to give up the ignorant superstitions of a bygone era and had him thrown in the cooler for three weeks. Me, I''ve seen some of the new robots they''re developing here, and I gotta wonder where they get the brains from...</em>


    <em>-Log Entry 03</em>


    <em>Another escape attemptst night. We rounded them all up and processed the escapees, but these little bastards are determined. We''ve got triple shifts on the camp around the clock, and the extra hours are eating up morale. Commandant says he''s put in a requisition to use the camp as a field test for the new "total pacification cors" the scientists have been working on. Maybe then I can get some goddamn sleep.</em>


    "Hmmp. This all reads like it was from before the bombs." I shook my head andughed grimly. "Fuck, no wonder we nuked ourselves into oblivion. We''ve <strong>always </strong>been bastards." I scratched my chin, looking around the room at all the broken bomb cors before turning back to the terminal. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Elijah wasn''t... wait, hang on..." I scrolled through several functions, and found something else. It had been pretty well hidden, but the files were in a different format than the earlier Pre-War journal entries. It quickly became apparent that <em>these</em> had been written by Elijah


    <em>-Day 2</em>


    <em>2nd day at the Pre-War concentration camp. Kept China citizens here before war. Radiation turned them, had to keep them in camp with cors (exins why some of these ''ve cors'' exist, always wondered, some were clearly Pre-War tech).</em>


    <em>Researching the cor frequencies, touchy - circuit architecture is messy, de-constructing them taking time. Must be careful, can''t be spotted by local robots, insane brains from the Dome will try and haul me back there, then... research me.</em>


    "Elijah, you silly son of a bitch," I said aloud with a grin. "You didn''t want to get researched? You were missing out! Some of their <em>research</em> has been quite..." I trailed off, thinking ofst night. "...eh-heh."


    <em>-Day 3</em>


    <em>No sign of that Courier from before. He stays out of my way, I''ll stay out of his. Been thinking about that "Sierra Madre" he mentioned... if he''s right, I''d just need to find the casino radio frequency to track it down. Wouldn''t need his help. If the working holograms and toxic gas are preserved there, might be easier to study them there with no robots to interfere. And those dispensers... might have use for those as well.</em>


    There was a mention of that Courier again. And then, when I read on, something else gave me pause.


    "Wait, toxic..." I thought about that for a minute. "He must be talking about the Red Cloud. But that almost sounds like... How could there be Red Cloud <em>here</em>? Unless..." I felt one of my eyes twitch.


    The implications of that train of thought were highly unpleasant.


    <em>-Day 4</em>


    <em>Still continuing research. Found way to deactivate cor after some failures. Nothing serious, just a few headless ghouls. It''s been hard to go fishing in the camp without one of them trying to run for the gate and their heads exploding. Damn cors, twitchy.</em>


    <em>... need to ration the Mentats, giving me migraines.</em>


    I cast a nce over to one of the nearby shelves. I saw a couple of open, discarded, and empty Mentat tins. I gritted my teeth, trying to force the rather unpleasant memories involving Mentats back down and out of my mind. Although...it did make me wonder. Elijah was a crazy, genocidal old bastard, but he had also been dangerously intelligent. Maybe even a genius...


    Or was he? The fact that he''d been using Mentats to enhance his mind cast that notion into question.


    <em>-Day 4/Addendum</em>


    <em>While setting up the radios to monitor Dome and robots, thought I saw glint (scope?) from the building on other side ofpound.</em>


    <em>Should check it out, make sure I''m not being watched... might be that Courier?</em>


    <em>Still, he would havee straight up rather than hiding. Instinct says it''s someone else.</em>


    There weren''t any more entries after that. At least now I had a new ce to check out. I picked up Sasha, tossed the strap around my shoulder, and headed out the door.


    It didn''t take long to find, although I must say that Elijah''s description of ''building'' might have been a bit generous. It may have been a building at some point, but now it was little more than a pile of rubble. There was still at least one free standing wall, however, and I cautiously made my way up the pile of copsed concrete to it.


    Elijah thought he''d seen a scope from this direction. It made me curious if there was actually a decent sniper perch here. If there was, then I could guess who''d made it - and maybe I could find more clues to finish piecing together Christine''s side of the story. Maybe find out more about that damn Courier who seemed interested in me...


    I still didn''t know his name.


    I climbed up the rubble pile, Sasha in hand, with all these thoughts rattling around in my head. Sure enough, there was a decent sniper perch up here. Enough of the wall was still here to provide decent cover, and it was high enough above the fence to allow for unobstructed sight lines... at least, if you were aiming in the direction of the watch tower.


    I looked down at the fence surrounding the concentration camp. The gate nearest this ce was wide open. What had Christine said in that first recording I''d found?


    <em>The robots moved in when I tried to intercept him... and Elijah sent the camp ghouls against us both. Like... like walking bombs.</em>


    Walking bombs... hell, maybe this <em>had</em> been a building when Elijah had written that journal. As I was thinking, I saw a glint in the rubble below me. Was it that same scope Elijah had seen? I hopped down, and found the barrel of a rifle sticking out of the rubble.


    "What is this you find?" Sasha asked as I let go of the joystick to pull the rifle up and out. The end of the sniper rifle was fitted with a suppressor, and the scope on the top seemed to have beenrger than normal. Most of the rifle was still wrapped in camoting, despite having been buried for who knows how long. There was a serial number engraved on the side of the stock, along with that same Circle of Steel symbol I''d seen scratched on the prison wall earlier.


    "This has got to be Christine''s rifle..." I said, looking it over. I found the shoulder strap and slung the sniper rifle over my shoulder from force of habit.


    "Who is Chris-" Sasha began to ask, but stopped midsentence to sniff the air. "Nevermind! I can smell enemy on the way! The robots areing!" For the moment, I forgot about the rifle slung over my shoulder and grabbed hold of the joystick; the barrels started to spin, and I braced myself against the pile of rubble.


    "Robots, huh? Heh! Let ''eme!" I said with a murderous grin. "We can take ''em!" The gun startedughing.


    "Ah-hah-haaa! Yes! Bring me metal men to fight!"

 Chapter 103: The Price

    Chapter 103: The Price


    "So, how many does that make?" I asked Sasha, spinning down the minigun and surveying the carnage. The ground all around me was stained red with blood, and littered with bodies in various states of dismemberment and perforation. The brain beneath the red-hot (and still smoking) barrels barked.


    "I do not know. I have lost track of killings count." There was a sniffing sound. "Wait, I thought you were keeping score?"


    I sighed, shifting my grip on the enormous gun. I hadn''t been keeping track of the <em>specific</em> number of kills, but this had been the <strong>fourth</strong> such group that hade at us since the robots ambushed us after I found Christine''s Circle of Steel rifle. I tried to shrug it off. This was a dangerous ce, filled with lobotomized idiots, cyberdogs, nightstalkers, cazadores, wannabe Ghost People, and insane robots. I was bound to run into a few maniacs itching for violence.


    Still... four attacks in less than an hour. That seems a bit excessive.


    The sky thundered. I looked up at the swirling clouds in the greenish-blue sky, and saw dancing, flickering lights within the roiling mass directly overhead. Storm clouds like that were <em><strong>never</strong></em> a good sign. And with how nuts everything else was around here, it would probably turn out to be acid rain or something equally horrifying. I was going to have to get to Elijah''s next camp and get back to The Sink before the storm broke.


    I started moving back in the direction of the shack I''d seen after the ambush. It was a long shot, but the ce had been visible from Elijah''s watchtower outside Little Yangtze; admittedly, it was just <em>barely</em> visible. It was easily a mile and a half away from the concentration camp. However, it had an array of transmitters sticking out of the roof that dwarfed the shack itself. That was probably my best bet for where the old bastard had gone after Christine moved in.


    "Hey, Sasha?" I asked while I walked, trying to think of something to pass the time.


    "?"


    "Kinda curious. How many bullets do you hold in that big-ass ammo drum of yours?" The brain sniffed, and the ears started wiggling.


    "I believe drum holds 800 boo-lets." It grunted out. "I am unsure how many have been fired sincest reload. I do not have way to check inside of drum."


    "Holy shit!" I let out a chuckle, a bit impressed. "<em>800 rounds?!</em> Dude! Most miniguns I''vee across only hold, like, 240 before they run dry."


    "Yes, but other weapons do not fire $200 custom tooled cartridges at 10,000 rounds per minute." It paused; the brain started panting heavily, and the ears twitched again. "It costs $400,000 to fire me for <em>twelve seconds</em>."


    My eye twitched. Maybe I should be a bit more sparing with Sasha''s ammo? Where the <strong>hell</strong> was I going to find ammunition like <em>that</em> once I ran out?


    The minigun in my hands just startedughing.


    That Other Courier had been here. I was sure of it.


    This ce - the Signal Hills Transmitter, ording to the sign on the front door - had several telltale signs that Elijah had used it as a camp at some point. The wiring at the base of the antenna array looked rtively new, and generally more haphazard than any of the electrics it surrounded. There was obvious discoloration on the doorframe and doorknob, clearly made from someone''s filthy hands. And there were the scorch marks and dried blood on the ground surrounding the building, clearly caused by exploded mines. All that was well and good, but the biggest clue didn''t point to that old bastard at all.


    Painted on the wall to the left of the front door in faded blue paint was another g symbol.


    I looked around cautiously. Thest time I''d seen one of these out in the open, I''d been ambushed by nightstalkers. But then again... that one had been red. And there didn''t <em>seem </em>to be any one or anything around... But that idea was... that was preposterous. Wasn''t it? Was there some deeper meaning in the different colors?


    "Are we going to capture point?" Sasha asked, pulling me away from my thoughts.


    "Yeah..." I shook my head; it was a useless gesture, shaking it to clear my mind if it''s not even <em>there</em>. "Yeah, lets see if there''s anything worthwhile to find in here."


    Cautiously, I turned the doorknob and gave the door a shove, stepping back quickly in case the door was booby-trapped... but nothing. Silence. Either he''d been in more of a hurry to get away from here than Little Yangtze, or he hadn''t bothered to set any traps on the door in the first ce.


    Like his camp in the watchtower, this ce was a mix of the barest essentials and clutter. An entire wall was devoted purely to electronics - mostly transceivers, spectrum analyzers and other radio equipment, obviously connected to the radio tower on the roof. A sunken bedroll was shoved into one corner, with a few ammo cans, a metal box, and some kind of energy rifle scattered on the floor next to it.


    "Hello there," I said, kneeling down to eye the rifle. "Now what are <em>you</em>?" At first I''d thought it was aser rifle, but on closer inspection I realized that it had elements of several other energy weapons. The stock looked like aser rifle, sure, but the barrel and the emitter on the end sort of resembled the pulse gun (which itself resembled a hair dryer). There were six vacuum tubes - three on each side of the barrel - and an ammo slot in front of the trigger that was just the right size for a microfusion cell. Etched into the barrel, just above the trigger were the words: <strong>LAER (Laser Assisted Electrical Rifle) Prototype. If found, return to X-40 Laser Research.</strong>


    "Why are you messing around with tiny baby gun?" Sasha asked gruffly as I picked up the rifle and started inspecting it "I am most gun you will ever need!" As if to punctuate the point, Sasha barked loudly several times.


    "Maybe..." I slung the LAER over my shoulder with the other two rifles. I''d decided to hold onto it, remembering something that Zero had said when I asked him about the attack earlier:


    <em>"We were sending robots to stop him and he was slicing and cutting through their shells with some suped-upser gun like they were cheese... paper."</em>


    Sure, carrying so many weapons was gonna be a bit heavy, and might slow me down, but... well. I guess I just wanted to keep my options open. Especially if this LAER thing was as useful as Zero had described. In the meantime, I kept rummaging through everything here. I found some microfusion cells, a couple shotgun shells... and a page that looked like it had been torn out of a journal inside the metal box.


    <em>Set up camp here after Yangtze attack. Too exposed here. Transmitter''s vulnerable. Hacked it, set up remote link so can ess it any time. Need to find spot closer to north train tunnel with clear broadcast LOS to here. Canyons are too dangerous. Can''t go back to Yangtze. There is that weather station NW that drew that Courier here, but going there sounds like trouble. For now, going to scout Waste Disposal site, the around the perimeter of that Securitron nt, see if I can find more defensible position.</em>


    "C''mon Sasha," I said folding the piece of paper into one of my pockets. "We''re going." I got up from my kneel- Uhnf. Okay, yeah, this was starting to get a bit heavy. Shrug it off, chucklenuts, there''s work to be done.


    "Where are we going?" The gun asked, the braincase under the barrels alternating between panting and barking.


    "Northwest."


    I should''ve been heading back to The Sink. The sky was getting darker, and the thunder in the clouds was getting a <strong>lot</strong> more frequent. I needed to find shelter before the storm broke, just in case, and the best shelter in this nuthouse was The Sink by far. I should''ve been trying to offload some of this weight, figuring out how much ammo I had left for Sasha, and any number of other things that <em>didn''t</em> involve heading directly to a ce Elijah had described as ''trouble.''


    But I wasn''t doing any of that... because I was just too damn curious. I was too curious about that Other Courier. Who was he? How did he know about me? Why did a <em>weather station</em> draw him to this ce?


    At least <em>one</em> of those answers became clear the closer I got to the ce. When I''d read the word, my first thought that it was some kind of weather <em>monitoring</em> station. The NCR had set up a few of those back in California, and I only knew about <em>that</em> because I had a job at one for about two months when I was short on cash a couple years ago. It''s a long story. Don''t ask.


    The deeper and deeper I ventured into the canyons to the northwest of the Signal Hills Transmitter, I realized that therge warehouse-looking building wedged into the far end was... something <em>else</em> entirely. Some kind of enormous tower, topped with a giant glowing sphere, was sticking out of the roof of the building. Four smaller towers,plete with their own smaller glowing spheres were also sticking out of the roof, and bolts of electricity were arcing between all five of the orbs. The clouds directly over the building were swirling, churning, almost bubbling with turbulence. It didn''t take a genius - and I''m the first to admit that I''m <strong>not</strong> one - to figure out that this was a weather <em>control</em> station. I shouldn''t have been surprised. This ce is, after all, run by mad scientists.


    On the plus side, at least I now had a better reason for heading this way. If it truly was the cause of the storm, as I was starting to suspect, then there might be a way to turn it off in there. I just had to... find it.


    "I am getting bad feeling about this..." Sasha said in my hands as I moved closer and closer to the front door. At least, I hoped it was the front door.


    "What''s the matter?" I asked; the mechanical ears were drooping slightly. "Do you smell more bad guys?"


    "No," it said simply. "That is what worries me." The brain made a soft sniffing sound, and the voice box on top of the gun grunted. "I do not even smell metal men. Where did they go?" I had to chuckle to myself; it was a <em>gun</em>, of course it thought nobody to fight was a bad thing.


    "Don''t worry about it, Sash," I hefted the gun in my grip, and skidded along the side of the canyon wall. "When they decide to show their faces again, you an'' me? We''ll cut ''em to shribbons, just like all the rest!" The gun grunted again; the brain underneath panted heavily.


    The side of the building loomed ahead of me at the end of the canyon, with arge <strong>X-17</strong> in big bold letters visible from quite a ways off; as I got closer, I realized that there was another g symbol to the right of the door - this one was painted in <em>white</em>. I guess I was on the right track. I punched the button to open the door, and the metal bulkhead slid into the ground and out of sight.


    The interior of the building was just as massive and cavernous as the outside would suggest. The ceiling was shrouded in darkness, but I could barely make out the rough shape of several metal catwalks crisscrossing each other overhead. All around me, I could see dozens and dozens of huge, cylindrical metal drums lining the walls, and going off into the darkness. To be honest, they reminded me of the fermentation silos I''d seen at a brewery back in New Reno. There must have been some kind of machinery in here, too, since I heard a dull, rhythmic thudding noise reverberating off everything all around me.


    I wandered around in the dim light for a few minutes until I found a set of metal stairs. I tried to follow their path, and it led up to arge tform, about halfway between the floor and ceiling. I hadn''t seen anything else in here that seemed as promising, so I decided to make my way up.


    "Uhhh..." I came to a halt at the top of the stairs, and... well, <em>stared</em>. A circle of six tiny houses had been ced in the center of the tform. I leaned over the model, and saw a tiny fountain in the center - and then it hit me. "Hang on, is this a model of Higgs Vige? It <em>iiiiis!</em> Aw, how adorable!"


    "Higgs? What is Higgs Vige?" Sasha asked curiously as I looked around.


    "Something stupid, don''t worry about it," I said, looking up at a metal box several levels above the model tform. Even from down here, I could see that the metal box had arge observation window set into the side that looked down on the model of Higgs. "Alrighty, who wants to bet that''s the control center? I do!" And with that, I made my way up the twisting, turning, darkened catwalks up to the metal box suspended from the ceiling.


    ... and then I immediately came to a halt once again.


    "What. The. Fuck."


    Scrawled on the wall of the control center, in big, bold, slightly uneven red paint were five simple words.


    <strong>YOU CAN GO HOME COURIER</strong>


    "Is there problem?" Sasha asked after I''d stood there, staring for a few minutes at the wall like a drunken idiot, finally snapping me out of my thoughts.


    "Uh... no." I shook my head several times. "No, I''m fine. It''s just... I wasn''t expecting... <strong>that</strong>." I pointed at the graffiti on the wall.


    "I see," Sasha sniffed. "What do the words say?" I raised an eyebrow at Sasha.


    "What do you mean, what do they say? Can you not read it?" The brain underneath the barrels started to growl softly.


    "I am a <strong>dog</strong>." Sasha said forcefully. It took me longer than it should have to make the connection.


    "Oh. Okay, yeah. That makes sense."


    I shrugged it off and tried to ignore the giant sign stered on the wall and looked around the control center. There were several servers, a few filing cabs, a control panel underneath an observation window that looked out over the model of Higgs Vige, and on the wall opposite the window was some kind of... map. I''m not entirely certain what it was a map <em>of</em>, exactly, but it looked like one of the maps I''d seen on my Pip Boy, just blown up to scale so it would fit on the wall, and probably made from old satellite images.


    I moved over to the console, and looked around. As far as I could tell, it was just a mass of buttons, half of which weren''t evenbeled. There was one fairlyrge toggle switch that seemed promising... but <em>it</em> wasn''tbeled either. That said, the weather station seemed to already be active, if the giant storm clouds outside and the electricity arcing off the giant orbs on the roof was any indication. So, if the giant toggle switch was <em>already</em> in the on position, then <em>flipping</em> the giant toggle switch should turn the ce <em>off</em>.


    It stands to reason, right?


    "Nothing ventured..." I said, taking hold of the toggle switch.


    "<strong>ATTENTION.</strong>" A vaguely female and emotionless synthetic voice boomed and echoed throughout the building from some unseen inte. "<strong>ATTENTION. WEATHER TEST HAS NOW BEEN INITIATED.</strong>" Several dull thuds reverberated through the building, and the lights overhead slowly started to flicker to life. "<strong>PLEASE NOTE THAT ABORT IS NOT POSSIBLE UNTIL TEST HAS CONCLUDED. HAVE A NICE DAY.</strong>"


    Thunder boomed overhead, and blue light flickered all throughout the interior of the building. shes of lightning streaked through the air, just barely visible at the edges of the observation window. The next thing I knew, I heard soft plinks striking the metal all around me, followed swiftly by the window filled with the sight of falling rain. <em>Inside</em>.


    Just to rify, since I was having trouble believing it myself: <em>rain</em> was now falling <em>indoors.</em>


    "I fear I may have made a terrible mistake."


    Lightning arced in the sky overhead almost as soon as I stepped outside. The clouds in the sky were a dark and turbulent mass of violence and shing lights. For as much as it was raining in the building, it was raining even heavier out here.


    On the plus side: it wasn''t <em>acid</em> rain, like I feared. It was just water pelting me in the face. Large, heavy droplets of water, the size of .44 Magnum rounds. That was a relief. Sort of.


    "We must move," Sasha growled. "They are <stronging</strong>."


    On the minus side: the pit of my stomach had just fallen out.


    "<em>Who</em> ising?" I asked, my feet already starting to move of their own volition. I didn''t have all the facts, but moving seemed like the best course of action. Yeah, moving was definitely a good idea. Let''s get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible.


    "Enemy team," Sasha grunted. But he wasn''t finished. "Cyberdogs, too. Metal men. Walking corpses. <strong>All</strong> of them areing. I can smell them getting closer. It may be more than even <em>I</em> can handle without reload." I started to pick up the pace, and it wasn''t long before I realized the ground under my feet was swiftly turning into mud.


    "More than... Wait, can you tell how many areing with that magic nose of yours?" I asked, gripping the minigun tightly. Thunder boomed overhead, quickly followed by a sh lighting up the sky behind me. I momentarily lost my footing on the slick, muddy ground, but I was at least nowing out of the canyon.


    "Not exactly," Sasha said. The brain under the barrels growled menacingly. "Definitely several dozen. Possibly a hundred or more are closing in." I came to a screeching halt, and my mouth dropped open. Another crack of thunder boomed.


    "A hundred <em>or more</em>?!" I said with eyes wide as pie tes; I shut them involuntarily and gripped my face when one of those huge rain-bullets struck me right in the eyeball. "Gah! Motherfucking son of a cunt-bucket pus monkey!"


    "I do not understand you," Sasha growled. "I tell you to move and you stay still, yelling obscenities."


    Off in the distance, even over the tter of rain and thunder in the sky, I could hear the sound of heavy footfalls getting closer. Indistinct and incoherent voices, both organic and mechanical. Barks and battle cries. I started running again; I rubbed my face onest time to make sure I could see only <em>after</em> I''d already got going.


    "Do you have a n? Please tell me you got a n, Sash, ''cause I''ve got nothing!" I said, trying to pick up the pace. The harder it rained, the muddier and more unstable the ground under my feet became. And it didn''t help that I was carrying a giant minigun and three rifles slung over my back, a submachine gun under my arm, five pistols, three knives, a pair of brass knuckles, and a sawed off shotgun. I was just a little bit over-encumbered.


    "Do you have respawn?" Sasha asked, barking; the sounds behind me were getting closer.


    "Re- <em><strong>what</strong></em>?" I asked desperately. "The fuck is a respawn?"


    "Base of operation!" The gun rified. "ce with ammo and medkit, inessible by enemy team! Do you have this?" I chuckled grimly, trying to ignore the sounds behind me and the rain that was starting to feel more like <em>hail</em> now. It was probably still water, but it was so huge and striking me so hard, over and over again...


    "So, the best n is just a mad dash to The Sink, and hope they can''t get in, huh?" I gulped, and that sinking feeling in my stomach got worse. "Well, better than nothing!" I kept running forward, nearing arge ridge; it was too wide to try and go around. I was sure that I''d be able to see the Think Tank dome once I got to the top, so I just scrambled up the muddy slope as quick as I could.


    "Oh, this is bad!" Sasha said suddenly as I neared the top of the ridge; I didn''t have time to stop and ask, I just kept moving. "They are <strong>here</strong>."


    I crested the hill and was met with a bowel-loosening sight.


    "Oh, <strong>FUCK ME</strong>!"


    Thend beyond the ridge was so thick with enemies I could barely see the <em>ground. </em>Dozens and dozens of lobotomites were all charging up the hill,plete with cyberdogs keeping pace and running alongside the lobotomy victims. Robots of various kinds - Mr. Gutsys, protectrons, robobrains, even a few sentry bots - were at the edges of the charging horde, guarding the nks. In the back of the horde were a few of those trauma harnesses. I couldn''t be sure, but the way they were pointing and gesturing, it almost looked like they were <em>directing</em> the others...


    "There is nowhere to run." Sasha said grimly as the horde closed in. I nced over my shoulder; the first of the chasing horde behind me was visible, but still a ways off... not nearly as close as the bad guys to my <em>front</em>. I flipped the switch on top of the joystick, and the barrels started to spin up with a whine. Thunder boomed almost directly overhead.


    "Fuck this! They ain''t gonna take me without a fight!" I yelled, nting my feet as firmly as the muddy ground under me would allow, and taking aim with the minigun. I''m not entirely sure how necessary it was. Aiming, that is. I could just point Sasha in their general direction, and I was bound to hit <em>something</em>, there were so damn many of them...


    "EEEEYAAAAAAAGH!" Sasha yelled, the sound swiftly being drowned out by the roar of minigun fire. shes of tracer fire streaked through the air, ripping into the lobotomites and cyberdogs closest to me. Showers of blood exploded with every bullet impact, and were just as swiftly washed away by the heavy downpour of rain. The attackers in front were dropping like bloatflies, sure, but there were just... there were so <em>many</em> of them.


    And then, what I''d been dreading happened at that moment.


    "!" Sasha yelled as the roar of the minigun ceased abruptly; my finger was still on the trigger, and the barrels were still spinning. "I am out of boo-lets!" As if to punctuate the urgency of the situation, a tracer round fired from one of the advancing lobotomites whizzed through the air perilously close to me.


    "FUCK!" I ducked instinctively, desperately pulling the strap connected to Sasha over and around my head, dropping the minigun to the ground. It struck the mud with a softer thud than I expected, and started to slide against the slippery, muddy ground away from me. I shrugged my shoulder, trying as fast as I could to get one of the rifles slung across my back into my hands. Despite the slippery metal made all the more slick by the rain, the LAER found its way into my hands. Christine''s rifle and the G36, sadly, fell off my arm, and I was a bit too busy to try and pick them up again.


    "To the left!" Sasha yelled, despite being still stuck in the mud several feet away from me. I wasn''t entirely certain how helpful that was - as far as I could see, they wereing at me from the left, from the right, from the middle, and from <em>behind</em>. Either way, I took aim at the closest of the lobotomites charging up the hill, and fired.


    A bright blue beam of light sliced through the air out of the LAER''s emitter dish, leaving a trail of floating blue, swiftly dissolving particles in its wake. It soundedpletely unremarkable - almost exactly like a normalser rifle. But the effect was <strong>entirely</strong> different. The beam struck the chest of the lobotomite I was aiming for... and then just <em>kept going</em>. The beam cut through half a dozen of the attackersing at me; it finally came to a stop when the beam struck a sentry bot and caused it to <em>explode</em> immediately.


    I didn''t have time to gawk. I just kept firing. The bluesers kept slicing through the air, each shot taking out easily six or seven of the attackers at once - I was aiming more for the robots and the trauma harnesses at the <em>back</em> than the lobotomites and cyberdogs at the <em>front</em> - but it was still hardly doing anything to thin their numbers.


    And then, just like Sasha, the LAER ran out of ammo as well. I had spare microfusion cells, sure, but it would take too long to try and swap them out with so many of theming at me so quickly. I dropped the energy rifle, and pulled out the MP5 from its sling under my arm. I only managed to pop off a few shots from the submachine gun before Sasha barked at me again. I barely heard the minigun shout at me over the gunfire and the thunderps.


    "Look out!" It yelled frantically. "BEHIND YOU!"


    I didn''t get a chance to turn around before my whole world erupted in pain. My right side felt like it had been set on fire for the few brief seconds before I lost all feelingpletely. I vaguely remember screaming something incoherent. My right arm wentpletely dead by the time I looked...


    The de of a proton axe - still crackling with electricity - was embedded halfway through my right arm, just above my elbow.


    I wheeled around, gritting my teeth and barely able to see through the pain flowing through my entire body. My right arm waspletely useless. I buried my left fist as hard as I could into the face of the lobotomite; the goggles it was wearing cracked and snapped, blood gushing out of its face underneath my fist.


    It fell backward, and I gripped the handle of the axe still embedded in my arm; fresh pain ripped through me like a freight train when it came loose, and I screamed again. I gripped the axe tightly and just started swinging wildly. All of them had finally surrounded me and gotten close enough that every single swing found a mark.


    I could feel them ripping and tearing and pummeling me, trying to bring me down from all sides, but I refused to give in. I just kept swinging the axe, kicking them, elbowing them away, head-butting them... I was doing anything and everything to fight them, desperately trying to stay alive. Purple lightning trailed the de as it cut through the air, followed by shes of blood. The rain washed it away almost as soon as the blood erupted from my assants.


    My vocal cords were raw from all the yelling and screaming. My body was on fire from so many impacts and cuts on all sides. I could barely see, but I saw well enough to cut through my attackers. I hadpletely lost all feeling in my right arm. Thunder boomed overhead, immediately followed by a streak of lightning illuminating the carnage all around me.


    Eventually, I swung the axe one final time, but didn''t hit anything. All around me, I could see corpses, limply and lifelessly falling down the muddy hill... but no more attackers. Had I driven them all off?


    My body was sore from who knows how many injuries inflicted in the bloody melee. My breathing was shallow, ragged, and uneven. I felt dizzy, and my vision was starting to blur. The stato assault of rain was still pummeling my head, rivers of water running down my face and mixing with what I could only assume was blood...


    But I was <em><strong>alive</strong></em>.


    I dropped the axe to the ground, unable to keep hold of it. I looked around, trying to force my vision to clear... and I saw that I was not alone. A vaguely humanoid shape was advancing on me. It was carrying a rifle of some kind in its hands, and there was a clear dome over its skeletal head; a green flickering light glowed brightly on its neck.


    "Don''t t-tell the others, th-th-they''ll only-a-augh," I heard a choppy female voice emerge from the skeleton through the pounding rain. I willed my body to move as quickly as I could, grabbing the sawed off shotgun on my left thigh and aiming it at the walking skeleton. It felt like time slowed down as it took aim with the rifle; if I could draw first, I might just -


    Click.


    I''d forgotten to reload it.


    I stumbled in ce, dropping to the ground; my knees had finally given out. The trauma harness just looked at me curiously, and adjusted its aim. I couldn''t do anything. I was too exhausted. My body was on fire - except for my right arm, which I simply couldn''t feel. I grimaced, shutting my eyes tight, trying to brace myself...


    "BARK!"


    My eyes snapped open. The trauma harness turned at the sound, lowering its rifle. I looked up just in time to see a cyberdog -plete with a tiny deathw riding on its back - leaping through the air directly at the skeleton.


    "D-d-don''t tell th-th-the others," I heard it cry seconds before it was tackled to the ground. Roxie and Stripe proceeded to rip it to shreds.


    I startedughing weakly, which rather swiftly sumbed to coughing. I doubled over, clutching at the ground with my left hand. It sunk into the mud, and despite my best efforts, I couldn''t push off the ground to get back on my feet. I looked around, my vision clouding again...


    There was an arm in front of me. There were plenty of severed body parts lying in the mud, but this one stood out, even to my slowly fading vision... because it was holding an <em>MP5</em>.


    I looked down at my right arm - or, rather, where my right arm <em>used </em>to be. The sleeve of the duster was bloody and torn, and even I could tell (now that I was actually taking the time to look at it) that the arm had been severedpletely, just above the elbow.


    That was the breaking point. My left arm couldn''t keep me up anymore, and I copsed face first into the muddy ground. My vision started to go ck. I coughed into the mud, sshing the wet ground back up into my face. Thunder boomed overhead. I felt something paw at my shoulder. I tried to move my head to look, but my body wasn''t cooperating. The sound of the rain started to get softer. Something warm and wet pressed into the side of my face. Something whimpered.


    Everything went dark.

 Chapter 104: All My Friends Have Off Switches

    Chapter 104: All My Friends Have Off Switches


    <em>"Courier..."</em>


    <em>The words hung heavy in the air and echoed in the darkness. Where was I? Was I awake? Was I </em><em><strong>alive</strong></em><em>?</em>


    <em>Did I care?</em>


    <em>I willed my eyes to open. It took a few seconds for my sight to adjust past the blinding white light...</em>


    <em>I was standing in the center of an enormous rocky canyon, surrounded by a scene of utter andplete devastation. The skeletal metal frames of destroyed buildings jutted out of the side of the sheer rock face at odd angles. Rubble was strewn all around me. I looked up, and the sky was a swirling mass of yellow and grey clouds,pletely obscuring the sun.</em>


    <em>There was something slightly off about this ce...maybe it was the small white flurries that filled the air, like snow. Yeah, that was definitely it. A kended on my cheek, and I reached up with my left hand to brush it away; it was crushed beneath my fingers into a dark grey smear. That''s when my mind put two and two together: it was ash. Ash was falling from the sky.</em>


    <em>"Courier..."</em>


    <em>There was that voice again. Where was iting from? I looked around... there was nothing here except rubble. Twisted metal and broken buildings. There were a few faint orange glows from fires somewhere. Was that where the ash wasing from? I took a single step, intent on trying to follow the voice.</em>


    <em>Slosh.</em>


    <em>At first, I thought I was ankle deep in water, only based on the sound. But then I looked down. I wasn''t standing in water. I was standing in blood.</em>


    <em>That''s strange.</em>


    <em>Where was it alling from? I looked around again and swiftly got my answer: it wasing from my right arm. </em>


    <em>That''s even stranger.</em>


    <em>I lifted the severed stump, and the river of blood gushing in buckets out of my arm didn''t stop - it didn''t even slow down. The surface of the bloodke was rising steadily. I was more confused than anything else. I mean, it didn''t hurt. But, seriously. I didn''t think human bodies contained </em>that<em> much blood.</em>


    <em>"Courier..."</em>


    <em>The voice was getting louder. I looked up, trying to see where the voice wasing from, and I suddenly realized that I was no longer alone. Figures were walking past me. To my left, NCR soldiers were gradually walking past, ignoring me and each other. To my right, I saw Legion soldiers walking in the same direction as the NCR troops, and doing the same - ignoring me and each other.</em>


    <em>I tried to get their attention, but they just kept walking past me. The line of soldiers on both sides seemedpletely oblivious to everything around them. And they continued to be oblivious as their armor started to peel and ke away, carried away into the sky by the same wind making the ash fall. Soon both rows of soldiers werepletely naked, still oblivious, still walking...</em>


    <em>And then their skins began to peel away.</em>


    <em>I waspletely transfixed. I was rooted in ce by the absurd spectacle. I didn''t know if I should''ve been horrified or merely confused. Before long, both the NCR and Legion had been stripped of anything identifying them. They were skinless bodies of meat, still walking, still oblivious, and somehow still alive.</em>


    <em>"Courier..."</em>


    <em>I turned around immediately, absolutely sure now that the voice wasing from behind me. Involuntarily, I shut my eyes. There was an intensely bright light that was almost blinding, like when I''d first opened my eyes earlier. I held my left hand up in front of my face, and tried to squint against the burning brightness.</em>


    <em>There was a man standing with his back to me. He was holding onto a tall staff, tipped with an eagle. I couldn''t make out any concrete details about the man, except for the duster he was wearing. A symbol was painted on the back. Thirteen white stars painted on a blue circle, and five vertical red stripes below it all.</em>


    <em>"You can go home, Courier," the man growled at me, lifting up the staff, and then mming the bottom against the ground with a sharp crack.</em>


    My eyes snapped open - for real, this time. And yet I was still in darkness. I heard a pair of muffled voices from... somewhere.


    "M''colleague, are you absolutely certain that sir going to awaken soon?"


    "I certainly hope so. It''d be a damn shame if this was the first time my patented ''Wake-Up Juice'' didn''t work!"


    A pair of doors opened in front of me with a loud hiss and a blinding sh of light. I suddenly found myself falling face-first out of arge box and onto the cold metal floor. I did manage to catch myself before my face smashed into the floor, so I ended up on my hands and knees. A heaving sensation rose up in my chest. As soon as my mouth opened, out came some kind of unidentifiable semi-solid white fluid.


    "Augh!" I coughed a few more times, wiping away the excess from the edges of my mouth. "Oh, what the... that''s... ugh!" I pushed up off the ground, stillpletely confused and disoriented. I wobbled in ce, and clutched at the edge of the hologram table in the center of The Sink.


    "Wee back to the waking world, sir," Jeeves said, unppable as ever. "It is certainly heartening to see sir once again conscious and back on sirs feet."


    "Wh..." I looked around groggily, still a bit unfocused and disoriented. "M''at th'' Sink? How did... how''d I <em>get</em> here? Wasn''t I... I was in th'' mud... an'' fighting... an''... blood ev''rywh''re..." I coughed again, reaching up to rub my face with my right hand.


    "Yes sir, you did indeed appear in quite the sorry and, if sir will pardon my French, bloody state when sir was dragged here by sirs caninepanion the other day." Jeeves said calmly. However, as my faculties slowly started to return, something urred to me:


    Sickening as it was to think about, I was <em>pretty sure</em> that my right arm had been severed by a proton axe, just above the elbow. The more I thought about it, the more I <strong>definitely</strong> remembered that happening.


    So how was I rubbing my face with my <em>right</em> hand?


    I pulled my hand away and stared. It was my arm, and at the same time, it <em>wasn''t</em> my arm. Let''s not mince words here: I was now the proud owner a robot arm. But it was unlike any other fake limb that I''d <em>ever</em> seen before. EVER. Most of the time, if someone loses a limb in the wastnd (and they actually take the time and caps to rece it <em>at all</em>) the fake arm or leg is made out of whatever is avable. Scrap metal, spare parts, maybe a bit of hazard paint around the edges...


    This didn''t look like that at all.


    For one thing, it was the exact same shape and size as my old arm. It was clearly made out of some kind of metal, but it <em>certainly</em> wasn''t scrap, and the flexing, interlocking metal tes were flesh colored. If it wasn''t for the tiny gaps in the joints (where I could almost see the inner workings) and the obvious seams separating the tes, it almost looked like a normal arm. And it was the entire arm, too - the prosthetic ended at my <em>shoulder</em>, and looked like it had been fused to the side of my chest.


    I stared at the arm, opening and closing my fist several times... and a few other odd things stood out. The action didn''t feel as fluid as it should have been, for one thing. Trying to move it like my old hand felt jerky and stiff. As much as it looked like a robotic carbon-copy of my arm, there was clearly some learning to be done. For another thing - and this was what really and truly baffled me - there was a sense of <em>feeling</em> in the arm. When I clenched my fist, I could feel the metal fingers pressing into the palm, and the thumb wrapped around the outside. I started poking the tes on my forearm and bicep with my left index finger, and - yep, could feel that too. I don''t know how to properly describe it, other than it felt <em>weird </em>and <em>utterly wrong</em>, but there was definitely a sense of touch being transmitted through the metal.


    "Sir?" Jeeves asked as I examined my new limb. "Is sir quite alright?"


    "I... uh..." I tried my damndest to shake it off. "But I... uh... wh... huh?"


    "I believe the words you''re lookin'' for are ''thank you," Auto Doc said, proudly. "Yeah, you should consider yourself damn lucky to have that recement. That right there is state of the art - Nano-Prometheus'' top of the line! It''s stronger, tougher, faster... basically, just all around better than flesh and bone. I wanted to go ahead and give you a full set, but Mr. Killjoy over there nixed that idea, told me to just rece the mangled stump." The Auto Doc sighed. "Just gotta suck the joy outta everything..."


    "... a full set?" I asked weakly.


    "Ahem," Jeeves coughed, bringing my attention back to the hologram table. "I believe, sir, what m''colleague is trying to say is that thanks to the schematics sir was able to recover from the X-12 Nano-Prometheusbs, we were able to sessfully manufacture a biometric prosthesis quite easily, after which it was an easy job for m''colleague to graft it onto sirs nervous system."


    "Schematics?" I asked, a bit confused. "But I... I didn''t recover anything from X-12 except Sasha." I paused. "... did I?"


    "Sir is indeed correct in sirs deduction," Jeeves said, his holographic bars glowing faintly. "Sir did not <em>personally </em>recover any <em>physical</em> schematics from the X-12bs. However, once sir entered the facility and disabled the defensive security measures - as sir did with X-8 and Y-17 - then it was a trivial matter to set up a remote link and download the schematics via the UHF waves saturating the crater."


    "...Huh." I looked back down at the metal arm, trying to process the vast amount of information dumped on me since regaining consciousness. I opened and closed my hand several times, and tried to see what range of motion I had; the movements still felt stiff and slightly unnatural, but it was getting noticeably easier by the minute. "So, you said this arm is stronger than my old one? How much stro-"


    "BARK!"


    Before I had a chance to react, I was t on my back, being pinned to the ground by 100 pounds of cybeically modified dog, licking my face frantically.


    "Augh! Ah-heh! Ah, hey Rox! Happy to see you, too." Instinctively, I started to reach for her with my right hand, but stopped just short of her fur, and decided to pet her with my <em>left</em> hand before gently nudging her off me so I could get back on my feet. The mad scientists here seemed to love to push everything they did to the absolute limit, and then go a bit further, so it''s probably best to y it safe until I''m absolutely sure of how strong this arm is...


    A horrible, terrifying idea shed in my brain, and my blood ran cold. I looked back down at the cold, hard metal of my right hand... and immediately decided that I would have to learn how to do <em>certain</em> other activities with my <em>left</em>.


    "So, you saved me, huh?" I shook off the feeling of dread as quickly as I could, continuing to absentmindedly pet Roxie.


    "Indeed, sir," Jeeves said as soon as I was back on my feet. "Sirs cybeic caninepanion has been quite busy thest few days, retrieving many objects of great value... and others of perhaps dubious importance," Jeeves coughed, grumbling softly.


    "Du- what?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"


    "I am referring, sir, to the personality chips sirs caninepanion recovered while sir was in m''colleagues care." I finally looked down, at the edge of the hologram table, noticing for the first time the four small boxes with white hexagons on the tops; three of them had bite marks, clearly having been carried by a dog recently. Iughed, reaching down to pet Roxie again.


    "Good dog," I said with a smile. She let out a soft "Wurf!" and rubbed her face into my hand. "Alright, well... she went to the trouble of finding them, lets see what we''ve got." Jeeves sighed , the panel beneath the boxes sliding open.


    "If that is sirs wish, then that is what we must do." One by one, I slid the chips into ce. There were only two empty slots left now. The hologram shifted, and the bars disappeared, turning into words hovering in midair:


    INSTALLING PERSONALITIES:


    -Light Switch 01


    -Light Switch 02


    -Sink


    -Biological Research Station


    "Light switches?" I asked curiously.


    "Indeed, sir. I believe sir will find them in the next room." To illustrate the point, the hologram above Jeeves shifted again, and turned into arge arrow, pointing to the right.


    "Aaaahhh..." I heard a synthetic female voice yawn as soon as I crossed the threshold; I looked to my right, and saw a panel with arge red "01" button. This must be one of the light switches. The button shed several times as I walked up to it. "Oh! Oh <em>myyyy</em>! Hello! How can I <em>illuminate</em> you today, handsome?"


    "So... what do you do here?" I asked, genuinely curious. I highly doubted Mobius would make a novelty talking light switch and just leave it at that. The light switch giggled.


    "Oh, Doctor Mobius and I were... <em>deeply</em> involved in research on the ability of light levels to enhance human cognition."


    "Really?" Even Roxie let out a confused whine. "Did it work?"


    "We observed a fascinating phenomenon: certain spectra of visible light actually increased cognitive function and reasoning ability! Of course..." The light giggled again. "Doctor Mobius'' brain is just <em>soooo</em> big already, we had a hard time measuring it."


    "Heh," I rubbed my chin, a perverse idea taking hold. "You know, it''s not often that I meet a light switch with brains..." I have never met a light switch with brains. "I think I''m going to like it here." The button on the switch shed several times.


    "Oh... well, that''s very sweet of you. Maybe one of these nights we can..." The button shed again. "...discuss <em>theorems</em>?"


    "Maybe," I said with a smile, running my thumb along the bottom edge of the switch case. "I''ll let you know." The button shed again.


    "Oh! Well... don''t keep me waiting too long, honey!" At that moment, I heard another voice - still female, but slightly different, anding from the other side of the room.


    "Mmmm... that was a nice little... uh... catnap." The voice wasing from another light switch, identical to the first one but with a "02" on the button. "How long was I out?"


    "Another one, huh?" I asked, walking over; as I did, I heard a muffled "harrumph!" from the other switch. "So, what do you do?"


    "Ooh! Hello there!" The second switch said, her button shing. "I''m Doctor Mobius''... eh... Personal assistant! Yeah, that''s it! We were studying... um... oh, shoot, what was it?" The switch paused, as if looking for the right word. "Oh yeah! Lightning! No, no, wait, uh... lighting! Yes, I''m sure that''s the right one. How lighting affects human interaction." She certainly seemed perky, if not the brightest bulb in the...


    Heh.


    "So? What''d you find out?"


    "Oh! It was suuuuper exciting!" She said cheerfully. "It turns out that some pretty colored lights can make you way better at talking to people!"


    "Well, you''re certainly... <em>turning me on</em>," I said with a smirk and a waggle of my eyebrows,pletely unable to resist the pun. She giggled, obviously pleased.


    "Oh, <em>you</em>! I bet you say that to all the light switches!"


    "Ugh!" The first light switch finally spoke up, obviously agitated. "Back off, you useless little strumpet! You don''t want to listen to her, sweetie. All she can do is conte the betterment of man''s mind with... with a <em>luminous aphrodisiac</em>!"


    "Oh, as-if!" The second light switch retorted. "Don''t pay any attention to that frigid ice queen! She just thinks she''s sooooo much better than everybody just because her processors are bigger! You know what they say: the bigger the processors, the looser the input slot!"


    "Oh, fuck you bitch!"


    "Prude!"


    "Slut!"


    "Cow!"


    "Whore!"


    "Cunt!"


    "LADIES!" I said, standing in the middle of the room and holding out my hands to try and stop the two switches from fighting. "Ladies, please, cool down your motherboards. There''s no need to fight, there''s <em>plenty</em> of me to go around for <strong>everyone</strong>!"


    There was a long, awkward pause.


    "Oh, trust me honey." The first light switch spoke up first, the button glowing rather brightly. "We can <em>tell</em>." It took me a minute to understand just why she put that specific kind of emphasis on thatst word. And even then, I didn''t figure it out until I looked down.


    "Oh. Right. I''m not wearing any pants. Of course I''m not wearing any pants. Jeeves? Where are my pants?"


    "I believe that sirs clothing and other personal effects have been gathered together within the confines of sirs bedroom," Jeeves said, speaking out of a speaker somewhere in the ceiling. Without another word to the two catty light switches, I rushed into my room... and immediately saw Sasha lying on the bed.


    "AH!" The husky, masculine voice of the minigun shouted, enthusiastic as ever. "! Is good to see you back on your feet!"


    "It''s good to see you too, Sasha," I said, quickly finding my pants and hurriedly putting them on. "You can thank the Auto Doc for fixing me up."


    "<strong>TANK YOU DOK-TOR!</strong>" The minigun bellowed, almost hurting my ears. Strangely enough, I heard a response from the other room:


    "You''re wee, K-9!" Sasha didn''t seem pleased with that. The brain growled, and the speaker on top grumbled.


    "My name is Sasha, ..." The minigun grumbled as I finished fumbling with my trousers. "Still, good to see you up!"


    "Thanks, Sash," I grabbed my shirt off the bed. I looked around, and saw that almost everything I had on me (and lots more besides) had clearly been retrieved by Roxie. My G36, the LAER rifle, all my pistols, my grenades... the MP5 (thankfully, without my arm still attached...), and even Christine''s rifle were all here, all arranged neatly on the desk in the corner of the room.


    "Ah, damnit..." I picked up the Riot Gear chestpiece... or, at least, what was <em>left</em> of it. It was barely recognizable as a piece of armor anymore. It had been mangled, bloodstained, covered in mud... fuck, no wonder I''d lost consciousness. If my armor looked this fucked up, I can only imagine how bad I must have looked when Roxie dragged me back here...


    "Well, you served me well," I said, setting the destroyed armor back down and giving it a solemn pat. "I''m sorry it had to end this way. Now, let''s see if... aw, fuck." I picked up my duster, and realized that, like my armor, it too had been ruined. But it wasn''t <empletely</em> ruined. Sure it was muddy and bloody and there were cuts and bullet holes everywhere, but that wasn''t anything new. The thing that killed it? The right arm was roughly torn off. No surprise, really, but... it just looked stupid with just the one arm.


    "Hmph..." I grabbed one of the knives off the table. "Welp, needs must." I set the de against the upper edge of the left sleeve and - nothing. It wouldn''t budge. Obviously, a normal knife wasn''t going to... <em>cut</em> it. I groaned inwardly at the unintentional pun, and grabbed the protonic inversal axe. One swift swipeter, and I now had a sleeveless duster. Probably wouldn''t offer the same level protection as before, but at least it wasn''t lopsided.


    That''s the one thing I never understood about armor in the wastnd. I suppose people see one leather-d wastnder wearing asymmetrical armor and one sleeve, and suddenly <em>every</em> wastnder wants just <em>one</em> metal shoulder pad and <em>one</em> sleeve.


    "So! Now you are mended, we will go back out there, and kill more members of enemy team, yes? Make them pay for your ruined arm?"


    "I... uh..." I hesitated, throwing on the duster, not sure how to answer. I''d almost forgotten how gung-ho Sasha was. And if my suspicion was correct, then it was <em>Sasha</em> that brought down all that ruckus on my head. It was amazingly, stupendously loud, which is probably what drew all the attention in the first ce, and the minigun was stupidly heavy. With all the other guns I carried, trying to lug that much weight around kept me from being fast enough to get out of that truly tricky situation at the end there...


    "There is problem?" Sasha asked. I could hear the brain whimper.


    "Well... I mean... aren''t you out of ammo?" I finally said. "I don''t exactly have a lot of $200 custom tooled cartridges lying around. I don''t have any, in fact."


    "No worries! Is not problem!" The gun shouted, with the brain under the barrels panting heavily. "Ask Sink Central Intelligence, he can make more!" I blinked a few times, taken aback.


    "Jeeves?" I said aloud.


    "Yes sir?" Jeeves spoke up, his voice echoing from a speaker above my head.


    "Is this true, what Sasha''s saying? Can you make more ammo?" I looked up, trying to find the unseen speaker, pointing at the minigun.


    "Indeed, sir. If sir would care to return to the central console, then I would be happy to demonstrate to sir my main intended function." I walked out of the bedroom, past the living room with the light switches (who both let out sighs of disappointment as I passed, now that I was fully clothed), and finally came to a halt in front of the circr table in the middle of The Sink.


    "Alright, Jeeves," I folded my arms across my chest, staring at the (surprisingly nk) hologram table. "Thrill me."


    "I cannot, sir." Jeeves replied instantly.


    "Hang on, you <em>just</em> sa-"


    "I cannot provide sir a demonstration of the holographic reconstitution matrix, until sir provides <em>me</em> a specific construction order." Jeeves said calmly. I sighed, and buried my face in my left hand.


    "Alright, you want an order? Fine. Can you make some of those custom-whatever cartridges for Sasha?" Before I''d even finished speaking, the edges of the hologram dish began to glow brightly. Streams of light emerged from the center and the edges of the dish, and blue holographic cubes formed out of thin air. The squares pulled themselves together, like iron filings to a ma, and I watched with dawning recognition as they got smaller and smaller until instead of glowing holographic cubes, I saw a single rifle bullet hovering in midair directly over the center of the dish.


    "Does the result meet with sirs satisfaction?" Jeeves asked as I stared, wide eyed. I reached out and cautiously plucked the bullet from its spot in midair. Yep, it was, in fact, real.


    "I''ve seen this before," I said aloud, more to myself than to Jeeves. "This is... this is like the vending machine tech in the Sierra Madre!"


    "Unfortunately, I do not know of this ''Sierra Madre,'' of which you speak, sir." Jeeves said, his holographic bars returning. "However, I can indeed inform sir that the holographic reconstitution matrix provided within my chassis was the initial prototype of such experimental technology, designed and built by Doctor Mobius, after which the schematics were sent to the Y-0 facility for further testing and production." I continued turning the bullet around in my hand, staring at it.


    "You mean... you''re trying to tell me that this whole time I''ve been here, you could''ve just zapped in more ammo at the drop of a hat?"


    "I am able to provide many more services and items than merely ammunition, sir, so long as the files for said item have been loaded into my databanks and the reserves of raw materials are not exhausted. If sir is interested in perusing the full list of items avable for replication, then I can produce said list for sir at any time sir wishes."


    "Nevermind that! You didn''t think to tell me about this before <strong>NOW</strong>?!" I shouted, leaning against the table.


    "If sir will forgive my use of a tired old clich, sir did not ask."


    I just shook my head and walked away. I''d deal with Jeevester. There were still at least two personality constructs that had been installed, and finding them might be a bit of augh. Augh I desperate-


    "OH GOD!" A synthetic female voice shouted as I entered the nt workshop on the other end of The Sink. The voice had a simr ent as Jeeves, and when I looked around, I realized the voice wasing from the sink mounted on the side of the wall. "Look at you! You''re... <em>filthy</em>." She said the word with utter disgust, as if it was the worst word she could imagine. "Your clothes... they''re just <em>caked</em> in horrible, sticky blood, and such filthy, filthy mud, and..." the Sink sniffed the air. "... Jesus wept, you smell like stale sex! I suppose you''ll... want to <em>clean up</em> then?"


    "Uh..." I pointed to the bathroom just behind me. "Well, there''s a shower in there. If I was gonna clean up, I''d probably use that." The Sink let out a sigh of relief.


    "Oh, thank God..." I couldn''t help butugh.


    "What, do you have a problem with dirt or something?"


    "Well, of course I do, darling!" The Sink practically shouted hysterically. "It''s just so... unsanitary! Do you know how many germs are in one cubic centimeter of dirt? Seventy... hundred... <em>gajillion</em>! Would you want that getting washed down your gullet day in and day out? I didn''t think so!" I thought about that for a few seconds.


    "You know, I could be wrong, but I''m pretty sure gajillion isn''t actually a real number." Before the Sink could respond, I heard another voice from behind me - a synthetic male voice, yawning and moaning. I turned, and saw that the server I''d noticed earlier was now lit up and humming to life.


    "Oh, Bloody Norah! You''ve gone and woken up the lech," the Sink sighed heavily.


    "Ooh... oh yeah, baby!" The server said as the lights on the side shed, his deep voice practically oozing sex. "Feels <em>good</em> to be on-line again! Yeah, all circuits on-line... ready to receive your <em>seed</em>."


    "Uh..." I hesitated, a bit taken aback. "W-what did you just say to me?"


    "Your seed, baby," The server said with a voice as smooth as silk. "I''m the original, certified, rarefied, testified GS-2000 Biological Research Station. Yes sir, I''m a seed-clonin'' machine. You got seeds? I''ll clone the <strong>shit</strong> out of ''em!"


    "Clone? What do you mean, clone?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I was getting a few ideas as to what he meant, but...


    "It''s the miracle of life, baby. You bring me some sulent gic samples, and I''ll work my mojo on them. Clone you up all <em>kinds</em> of nts! Got DNA profiles for hundreds of nts, aw, yeah... I can also break them down for you, if you''re into the kinky stuff. Bring me any old nt parts, and I''ll grind them up into Salient Green for you. Yeah, you like that, don''t you baby?"


    "DNA profiles? What kind of nts can you clone?" I asked, much more curious now. The main monitor on the side of the server suddenly lit up.


    "Ready your eye-holes, and take a gander at this list of everything I can do for you, baby." I bent over to get a closer look at the list of nts on the screen. I scrolled down, and the list just kept going... and going... and going... it was <em>immense</em>! Half of these nts I''d never even heard of before.


    The longer and longer I perused this list, the more I realized... this machine, this biological research station... it must have been built before the war. All of these nts on this list were <em>unmutated nt life</em> from before the bombs. I was prepared to bet that this contained a gic record of <em>every</em> nt that had since gone extinct! This was... the possibilities were...


    "Okay..." I spoke up, still scrolling through the seemingly never-ending list of nts it could clone. "So, if I bring you samples of dried nt life, you can clone any nt on this list, and grow them in these nters?" I pointed to the trays of dirt filling the room behind me.


    "Oh, you know it baby. I just need some samples and I got you going. Take a few days, but trust me - it''s <em>all</em> kinds of good!"


    "This is... holy shit..." I kept staring at the list, trying to contain my excitement. "There''s... there''s <em>wheat</em> in here! I''ve never... I''ve only ever had bread made from corn. And there''s fruits! Strawberries... ckberries... cherries... I''ve never..."


    "Oh, that ain''t the best thing I can do for you, baby," the Biological Research Station let out a long, slowugh. "I can make every single species in the genus <em>Coffea</em>." He paused for a minute to let that sink in. "That''s right, baby. I can make you some <em>steamy</em> hot coffee. Ohhh yeah..."


    "Wee back, sir," Jeeves said when I walked back into the central room. I''d finished making notes of everything I''d wanted to grow (all I needed was to find some ''gic samples'' for the BRS), and got finished taking a shower. The Sink <em>in</em> The Sink was right, I was filthy. It was nice to get clean. "Will sir be requiring more ammunition and supplies?"


    "In a minute, yes Jeeves," I said, flexing my robotic hand. I''d only been up an hour, but it was already feeling a lot more natural. Not perfect, but better. "If there''s one thing I''ve learned from my little ident, then it''s that I need to be a lot more mobile. It''s no use finding all this tech and gear out in the crater if I can''t bring it back, because I''ve been ambushed and can''t outrun my attackers."


    "A cunningly astute observation, if I may say so sir."


    "Thanks. So! If I want to get more mobile, I''m gonna need some wheels," I said. Jeeves'' holographic bars flickered slightly and changed color.


    "For your feet, sir?"


    "N-no..." I stammered out. "Wheels, as in a car or a truck. Some kind of motorized transport."


    "Ah," Jeeves'' tone seemed somewhat relieved. "Yes sir, that does indeed make more sense. Forgive my confusion, sir, but stranger requests were issued of me by the Think Tank in days gone by."


    "Yeah, I can believe that. So, where can we find a car in the crater? Do you know of any ce around here that might have one in halfway decent condition?" As I spoke, the holographic bars vanished, and were reced by that familiar map of the crater.


    "Sadly, sir, I cannot pin-point any specific locations for sir, as none of the vehicles used in the Big Mountain facility had any transponders. However, there are records in my databanks that the Securitron De-Construction nt to the northeast of the dome had a number of second-hand former US-Army M35 2-ton cargo trucks in their motor pool, for the use of transporting robots both intact and disassembled." As Jeeves spoke, a red dot shed on the map, pointing out a location somewhere to the northeast of the dome. I quickly input the location into my Pip Boys map.


    "A deuce-and-a-half, huh?" I said, nodding. "Well, that''ll certainly help me carry stuff... Alright, it''s a n." I paused. "Actually, hang on. Jeeves? That list of yours, that has all the things you can replicate. Do you have any car parts, in case the only deuce-and-a-half I find ispletely broken?"


    "Allow me to provide for sir theplete list, in full, of every item avable within the holographic reconstitution matrix, so that sir might peruse at sirs leisure." The holographic map disappeared, and was reced with a list nearly as long and exhaustive as the Biological Research Station''s list of nts it could clone.


    As I looked over the list, I couldn''t quite shake the feeling that I''d forgotten about something... Something important... something...


    I shook my head and went back to reading. I''m sure if it was really important, I''d remember it eventually.

 Chapter 105: Cyborg vs Robots

    Chapter 105: Cyborg vs Robots


    The air in the Big Empty was crisp, cool, and clear. It smelled like the rain had stopped only recently - possibly within thest hour or two - and it looked like it was actually going to be a nice day for a ce with a sky entirely the wrong color. From my vantage point, everything was quiet and still...


    That is, until I pulled the trigger.


    The muzzle st from the anti-materiel rifle in my hands boomed a thunderp loosed by an angry god. It was a solid six seconds before the echo finally ended. I leaned back in the chair I''d brought out onto the balcony of The Sink, and pulled back on the heavy bolt; the spent and smoking .50 cal casing was spat out of the side and fell ttering to the ground.


    "Hello, sir. If sir will permit the question, may I ask what sir is currently doing?" Jeeves'' voice burst out of an unseen speaker, somewhere above my head.


    "Just taking a few pot-shots at the locals, Jeeves. Thanks for the ammo, by the way, it''s a great help." I said, shoving the bolt forward, and taking aim once again. "I think I bagged that cazador that was chasing Roxie and me the other day. Blew the fucker clean in half, didn''t know what hit him."


    "If sir will permit me a moments unseemliness, may I inquire as to the whyness of sirs current course of action?" Jeeves asked as I pressed my eye against the scope. "I was given to understand that the Securitron De-Construction nt would be sirs next destination, once sir had acquired the necessary supplies, of course. I do not quite understand how, to use sirs vernacr, ''taking pot-shot at the locals,'' is further in aid of sirs goals."


    "You''re absolutely right, Jeeves. That <em>is</em> where I was nning on going..." I paused, breaking the stillness of the air with another st from the massive rifle. "Eventually. I just wanted to get some practice in before heading out. Make sure this arm is up to scratch, you know? I mean, hell, I do most of my fighting with my right hand. Just about all my shooting, certainly. No sense heading out without a bit of practice."


    "I see," Jeeves said calmly; the next spent casing ttered to the ground. "And does the work of m''colleague meet with sirs approval?"


    "Absolutely!" I said, holding up the rifle with only my right hand for the moment. "I mean, I know how heavy this rifle is. Roughly 30 pounds, there-or-therabouts. But it <em>feels</em> light as a feather!" I held out my arm as far as it would go, and kept hold of the grip; despite the weight and how unbnced it should''ve been with me only holding onto the pistol grip, it stayed t, level, and steady as a rock. "I bet I could probably fire this thing one handed, if I had to."


    "Indeed, sir?" Jeeves asked with an obviously incredulous tone. I shrugged.


    "Well... okay, I doubt it''d be urate. At all. But I''ll bet you any money I could fire it one handed, and still keep hold even with the massive recoil."


    "Most certainly, sir. Should I inform m''colleague that sir will be wanting a full set of recement cybeic extremities now?" I nched, almost dropping the rifle.


    "Uhhh... let''s... let''s hold off on that for a while. At least until... I think I''ll wait and see if any <em>more</em> of my limbs get cut off, how''s that?" I would give anything for a decent distraction right now...


    Squeak!


    I looked around, trying to pinpoint the noise, and saw Stripe perched on the balcony railing, looking up at me with a crooked smile full of surprisingly sharp teeth. It was actually kind of cute... you know, if you were to ignore the fact that it was holding the shredded and gnawed remains of somebody''s foot in its paws.


    "Hey, little guy!" I set the anti-materiel rifle against the wall, and hit one of the buttons near the door; there was a fizzle, a hum, and suddenly the balcony was surrounded by a ring of blue forcefields once again. I walked over to Stripe and gently petted his mohawk. "I was wondering where you''d gotten off to. Been out hunting, huh?"


    Stripe let out a strange sort of pulsating purr, nuzzling into my hand (and scratching my palm with his horns)... right before tearing another giant bite out of the foot. I paused, looking down at the tiny deathw. I couldn''t tell for certain, but it looked like he had considerably more teeth than he had the other day... and he was perhaps a little bit <em>bigger</em> than I remembered...


    Stripe took onest bite out of the foot, dropped the hunk of meat to the ground, and scurried up my arm. He scampered around my neck, flopped himself down on top of my right shoulder... and then he promptly started snoring loudly.


    When the Securitron De-Construction nt came into view, it put me in mind of an old factory. It was a collection of three, rtivelyrge, squat brick buildings that looked like they''d been wedged together at the corners. I could see several enormous pipes snaking their way out of, over, beside and around all the cubes. Arge portion of the grounds surrounding the building was fenced off, further adding to the factory image.


    "Well, this certainly looks like the ce..." I said to myself as I calmly walked over a section of knocked-over fence. I was all by myself, because thest I''d seen of Roxie and Stripe, they were curled up asleep next to each other on my bed in The Sink. Didn''t really want to wake them (I''ll be honest, I thought the image was pretty cute), so I set out on my own. "I wonder where they keep all the trucks?"


    It wasn''t long before I got my answer. I rounded one of the outer corners of the factory and came across what had probably been a parking lot. There were several centuries old car wrecks that seemed to support this theory - including a two and a half ton army truck that towered over every other car. To be fair, there <em>was</em> more than one deuce-and-a-half in the parking lot... but of the three I could see, there was only one that didn''t look <em>split in half</em>.


    "Well, lookit that!" I said with a grin, hopping onto the hoods of several wrecks to get closer as quickly as possible. "Looks like I''ve hit the jackpot straightaway!" The old 2 ton truck was in rtively decent shape, considering that it had been parked out here, exposed to the elements. for what I can only assume was over 200 years. The bodywork of the cab was covered in more rust than paint, all the windows werepletely broken, and when I walked around to inspect the wheels, I noticed that one of the six tires was missing... and there didn''t appear to be a usable spare on any of the other deuce-and-a-half wrecks.


    And yet...


    "You are <strong>gorgeous</strong>!" I patted the passenger door with a grin; the metal echoed loudly. "I am gonna have <em>so much fun</em>, fixing you up! Now, maybe there''s a spare in the back..." I hopped quickly onto the tailgate to get a better look. The back of the truck''s cargo bed was full of clutter. A few filing cabs. Some discarded and broken coffee mugs, A few destroyed chairs... but no spare tires.


    "Ah well," I shrugged. "It was a long shot... any... hang on." Something shiny caught my eye at the other end of the cargo bed. A few secondster, it was in my hand: a very familiar metal box with a white hexagon painted on top. "Well, I''ll be damned! Another one! Fuck, should''ve just followed the signal for this, would''ve led me right-"


    #^& = [.([{}]).] = #^& ?


    A burst of barely legible static echoing across the parking lot from somewhere let me know immediately that I was no longer alone. In a sh, I''d shoved the box with the personality chip into one of my pockets and I leapt off the deuce-and-a-half; I rolled when I hit the ground, and came to a kneeling crouch when I was back on my feet. I kept low to the ground and carefully shrugged the LAER into my hands as I stayed in cover behind a nearby wreck.


    If the sound was anything to go by, then robots were definitely on the way. And that meantsers, certainly. Rockets and other explosives, possibly. Definitely some kind of dangerous, destructive artillery that would potentially be lobbed in my direction very soon, and if I was anywhere near the deuce-and-a-half, it would run the risk of damaging my find beyond repair before I''ve even started.


    So, first order of business: get away from the truck.


    %* = ()[]$$[]() = %* ?!


    Another burst of static. I couldn''t exactly trante, but it sounded... confused? That was probably a good sign. I kept my head low, ducking between the broken down wrecks until I was sure that I was far enough away from my prize... and very carefully peeked over the hood of the car I was using as cover to see what I was up against.


    #^% = [[..{{}}..]] = #^% ?


    A pair of securitrons were rolling along between the parked wrecks, searching for something. Me, probably. Except... they didn''t <em>quite</em> look like securitrons. They were the same shape, but they had apletely different color scheme - a teal green chassis, rather than blue - and a pair of interlocking white hexagons were painted on the shoulder mounted missile pods. What really made them look strange, however, were the distorted face screens. One was a mass of static, asionally thinning out enough to reveal a warped, angry face. The other didn''t have as much digital snow, but it didn''t really have a <em>face</em>. Just a great big ck and white "NO" symbol where its face should''ve been.


    These bots had certainly seen better days. And I was determined to make <em>this</em> day even worse for them.


    "Stupidexplodingrobotsayswhat?" I shouted, popping out from behind the wreck, my LAER at the ready and slipping into VATS. The air crackled, and a pair of bright bluesers burst from the LAER and struck the front of the robot square in the chassis... seemingly to no effect. It didn''t cause any <em>damage,</em> at least. The <em>effect</em> was that it just caught the attention of both.


    {#} = [({{}})] = {#} !


    "Uh..." I felt liked I''d been caught with my pants down. Hadn''t I seen this gun explode a sentry bot the other day? It -


    "Whoops! Time to go!" I turned tail and ran in the other direction as soon as I saw the securitron I''d hit open up the shoulder pods, readying a missile salvo. I leapt over the hood of a nearby two-seater and ducked around the corner edge of the building, just as the unmistakable sound of several missiles screaming through the air. I practically welded by back to the heavy concrete wall and covered my-


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    The wall and the ground shook violently. A not inconsiderable amount of shrapnel peppered the ground unprotected by solid concrete. The Geiger counter on my Pip Boy spiked slightly, which meant one of those wrecks they hit still had the engine. I set off again before the ground stopped shaking. It was too much to hope for that the berserk securitrons had been caught in their own explosion, so I had to get clever. Or find a gun with a bigger bang.


    Let''s bepletely honest here: the gun was far more likely.


    If I was lucky, I might be able to find one in the factory... or maybe I could try and lose them inside. If it was like any of the other factories I''d been to in the past, it''d be a maze of narrow, twisting corridors, dangerous conveyor belts, and even more dangerous machinery.


    I skidded to a halt in front of the main factory doors - noting with a sense of wry amusement that the door had been marked with a red g symbol. I tried the door - it wouldn''t budge. I mmed my right shoulder into the door - still nothing. There was a dent where my metal arm had mmed into the door, but it still hadn''t opened. I could hear the securitrons rolling in closer; the static was definitely getting louder.


    "Alright," I said, balling my right hand into a fist and wound up like I was going to throw a fastball. "Time for a stress test!" I nted my feet, and punched the door square in the central star of the g graffiti.


    Truth is, it didn''t feel like I gave the punch full power. In fact, just based on the weak shock that ran up my cybeic arm, it felt like I''d only hit it hard enough to scuff the skin on my knuckles. If I still <strong>had</strong> skin on those knuckles, anyway. A love tap, basically.


    So, when the heavy metal door ripped free of its hingespletely, flying into the darkness in a twisted hunk of metal and a shower of sparks...


    %^# = {(..$$..)} = %^# !


    "Oh, right! I''m still being chased!" I yelled aloud, diving into the freshly open door. A barrage ofser fire burst against the mangled door behind me, and I just kept running. "Hey, morons! You missed!"


    Sure enough, the interior was very dark and factory-like - which is to say, built like an M.C. Escher drawing. I flipped my eyes to nightvision, climbed over a desk, and vaulted through a broken window separating the reception area from the factory floor. I rolled and when I got back on my feet I was face to face with arge box mounted on the wall.


    "Main circuit breaker, huh?" I grabbed the toggle in the middle with a smirk. "Alright, let''s make some noise!" I flipped the switch, smacked the big button on the bottom, and started running again. Just in time, too.


    A loud, ringing-bell xon echoed somewhere overhead, and all around I could see spinning lights. It was bright enough now that I switched my eyes from nightvision to normal; the hazy green miasma evaporated, reced by the shing yellow hazard lights all around me. The sounds of heavy clinks and machines slowly whirring to life deeper in the factory filled my ears as I kept running.


    && ^! !^#% &&


    I cast a nce over my shoulder, and saw the bot with the "NO" symbol for a face burst through the open doorway, raising one of the arm-mounted weapons at me. I hopped up onto a nearby railing, jumped over and ran along a pair of workbenches, kicked off the back wall, andnded on top of arge metal shelf; it immediately started to tilt and wobble... possibly because of the unexpected weight that hadnded on it, but probably because the workbenches behind me had been vaporized by grenades.


    So, I just kept going. I jumped off it andnded on the next one. Then the one after that. When thest shelf started to fall, I dove off, rolling onto a nearby catwalk and didn''t even bother to stop before I set off running again. Behind me, I could hear the metal shelves get ripped to shreds by more grenadeuncher fire.


    "Too slow!" I called back, ducking into another corridor that I was convinced was too narrow for them to squeeze through, and emerged on the other side. All around me, I could see conveyor belts of various sizes - ranging from barely six inches wide to incrediblyrge - all moving, and crisscrossing the interior of the factory. Automated mechanical metal arms were already going through the motions, despite nothing on the conveyor belts (that I could see). Despite everything else that was going on - and the fact that I was still being chased by homicidal robots - I did take note of something amusing: someone had put up a Ralphie the Robot poster on the wall, identical to the one in The Sink.


    "Well, I think that may have bought me so-"


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    The double doors separating the one part of the factory and the other exploded inward in a cloud of superheated shrapnel.


    "Or not." Just on reflex, I snapped off a pair of LAER sts at the two securitrons who sted through the doors. In response, the angry-faced on in front opened up the missile pods in its shoulders. And the chase was on again! I ran straight at one of the moving conveyor belts, grabbed hold of one of the metal arms, and swung on it over to the next belt above it. The ground behind me exploded.


    "Fuck, and I thought the Legion boys were bad shots!" I said with a smirk, getting back on my feet. "You kids better get back to school, this ain''t amateur hour!" I shouldered the LAER and pulled out the pulse gun, taking careful aim. They were robots, so maybe the electronic equivalent of an STD from Gomorrah might work better than a LAER. I ducked out of the way of one of the moving arms, and sted both securitrons with the tiny energy pistol. Bolts of electricity arced off and between both bots.


    ## $*! !$* ##


    "Hah!" I shouted with a grin as the conveyor belt trundled me along slowly. "Eat it mother... fuuu..." My expression changed from glee to confusion to worry rather quickly when I realized the bots weren''t actually going down. I looked closer, and noticed that every ce I''d struck with the LAER had actually done some damage... but instead of molten g, the surface of the LAER impacts were covered in tiny blue holographic cubes moving across the surface... just like the holographic cubes in a <em>replicator</em>! These fuckers were <em>self-repairing</em>!


    "Shit." I turned and jumped off the conveyor belt, and hit the ground running. Okay! So, the bots could repair themselves and the pulse gun that could take down power armored Brotherhood of Steel bastards in one hit didn''t work either! That... was gonna make things a bit tricky. Punctuating the point was the sudden barrage ofser fire slicing through the air over my head. It hit one of the dis-assembly line arms, which proceeded to exploded over my head in a shower of sparks.


    I must say... it was quite the merry chase. And I really mean that! Sure, I was in a lot of trouble. In fact, I was probably fucked, and not in the fun, sticky way. But ducking and bobbing and weaving through thebyrinth of machinery, constantly staying one step ahead of the robots chasing me... it was actually quite fun. In an adrenaline-pump sort of way.


    The only slight annoyance was that I was spending all this time and effort slipping over, above, below, and around all the obstacles... and the securitrons were just plowing straight through. Perhaps they had the right idea.


    "Hello, door!" I yelled, leaping over a pair of metal barrels and readying another cyborg-punch. "Goodbye, door!" I hit the door at full speed, not even bothering to slow down. There was wrenching sound of metal against metal, and the massive hunk of heavy steel, warped by the knuckles of my cybeic fist, sted out of the doorframe with a heavy crash. I was momentarily blinded by the light; the freshly open door led outside. Wasn''t expecting <em>that</em>. Apparently, I''d made my way from one end of the factory to the other, and I was now at the back of the de-construction nt.


    #^% = [.[.{{}}.].] = #^% ?


    I could hear the indistinct sounds of crashing behind me, getting closer. I tried to remember thest time I fought securitrons as I ran out of the factory for the nearby hills. Thest time was... it was when I stormed the 38''s penthouse, wasn''t it? Felt like a lifetime ago. What did I use to bring them down? There was the Sprtl-Wood 9700, the holorifle, and a few pulse grenades. I think. Did House''s securitrons have the auto-repair function? I couldn''t remember. I know I have the holorifle back in The Sink... maybe I should''ve brought that instead of the LAER.


    I crested a hill, the sounds of the securitrons right on my tail, when I was met with a very unexpected and unwee sight: for no apparent reason, a <emser turret</em> was in my way, and slowly turning on it''s axis to use my face for target practice. I didn''t have time to question what it was doing all the way out here. I just shrugged the LAER off my shoulder and dove straight at the top of the turret, to try and confuse it for long enough to...


    Bingo! By the time I''d vaulted over the top andnded on the other side, the turret halted in its tracking. The motors that made it rotate had been unable to keep pace. I slipped into VATS and sted it with the LAER; the blue streak passed through the turretpletely, blowing it to pieces. I looked around and saw that this wasn''t a hill: it was the edge of a small cliff. Maybe 20 feet high. And there was something...


    %^# = {.(.$$.).} = %^# !


    I jumped down, digging my mechanical fingers into the side of the rock face to slow my descent. It ended up showering me with tiny bits of shaved rock that broke off under my grip. I let go and kicked off the wall, walking toward the metal lean-to I''d seen from above. There were supplies and scrap metal all around, not to mention a small terminal, somehow still working, with a makeshift antenna sticking out of the back.


    "This is one of Elijah''s camps..." I said aloud, making the connection. It was the terminal that sold it, honestly. But there was something else. Somethingrge. Something metal. Something that was very obviously a <em>really big gun</em>.


    Result!


    I grabbed the massive cannon and hefted it onto my shoulder, just as the pair of securitrons rolled around the outside edge of the cliff and came into view of the camp. I flipped open the trigger guard, and suddenly the interior of the weapon was awash with crackling electricity. I took aim carefully, and pulled the trigger as fast as it would let me.


    It made a boom like some kind of old world explosion with every pull of the trigger, and thick beams of bright blue light that nearly blinded me were forced out of the end. Every time it discharged, a huge cloud of dust was kicked into the air around my feet like a stick of dynamite had gone off. Five beams of energy cut through the air and plowed into the securitrons; I tried the trigger a sixth, but the energy fizzled before reaching the end of the barrel.


    Eventually, the dust cleared. I looked over to the securitrons... and let out the breath I was holding when I saw the two of them reduced to piles of broken, molten g. I guess this thing was strong enough to break through the self-repair protocols. I startedughing, and patted the side of the massive cannon sitting on my shoulder.


    "Fuckin'' Elijah... you may''ve been a crazy, genocidal old bastard... but you sure knew how to build a <em>damn fine gun</em>!"


    "Wee back, sir," Jeeves greeted me as I stepped out of the elevator. I had the Te Cannon (I learned the name after rifling through a few of Elijah''s notes at his makeshift camp) still sitting on my shoulder, and I pushed an enormous tire out in front of me. It rolled away from the elevator and came to a stop at the hologram table. "I take it sir was sessful in sirs endeavours?"


    "Why, whatever makes you say that?" I smiled, setting the cannon down with a heavy THUD.


    "Sir is only just returning after venturing into the crater nearly eight hours ago." Clearly, Jeeves hadn''t picked up on the sarcasm.


    "Yeah, well rebuilding an engine takes time. Especially when you have to jury-rig it to take microfusion cells. But, with all the wrecks around it, and all the securitron scraps in the de-construction nt, I had plenty of spare parts. Piece of cake! The engine runs beautifully now. Or, better than it did. But then again, since it didn''t run <em>at all</em> before..." I chuckled nervously.


    "It warms my circuits to hear so, sir," Jeeves said. "Does this mean that sir will not be needing any spare parts replicated after all?" I shook my head, and lifted up the tire with my cybeic arm.


    "Actually, the only thing wrong with it now is that it''s missing a tire. Not this one, another one. That''s actually why I brought you this one. Hopefully you can scan it, and make a copy," I set the tire back down. "I''m just amazed I was able to find a working jack and a tire iron. It was in the glove box in one of the wrecks. Who''d have thought, eh? Now, before we get to that..." I reached into my duster, and pulled out the small metal box I''d picked up earlier. "Let''s see who <strong>this</strong> is!" Jeeves sighed heavily.


    "If we must..." The slot opened up, and I slid in the chip with a satisfying click. For half a second, nothing happened. And then, the silence was broken by a bellow that echoed through the entire Sink.


    "OH GOD!" I heard a robotic screech echo off the walls from somewhere in the bedroom... followed by a bark and a loud squeak. I sauntered into the bedroom casually, more curious and perplexed than anything else, and was almost run over by Roxie bounding out of the room with Stripe riding on her back.


    "YOU!" I heard a voice from... somewhere. I looked around, but didn''t see anything. "Hey, you!" Wait, it''sing from... that was a tiny securitron at my feet looking up at me. A tiny securitron with a smiling cartoon coffee cup for a face. What. "YEAH! YOU! Got any mugs?"


    "Uh..." I wasn''t quite sure what to say. "Mugs? Why do you want mugs?" The tiny securitron shook his tiny, tiny arms.


    "Why do YOU want mugs? HUH? You some kind of sick mug hoarder? OH GOD! Give me the coffee cup, PLEASE! I know you have some! I can tell it''s sitting there in your pack, TAUNTING ME!" The tiny robot started panting heavily. "Sorry... I''m sorry. I got a little carried away. It''s... just... all those GODDAMN dirty dishes out there! With no one to CLEAN them! It breaks my tiny metal heart!"


    "Wait, let''s back up," I couldn''t bring myself to tell the tiny securitron that I didn''t actually <em>have </em>a pack. I just knelt down to get a bit closer. "Who <em>are</em> you?" He looked up at me, still as a stone.


    "You..." It sounded like he was about to cry. How a robot was going to cry is beyond me, but anyway. "You really want to know about... <em>me</em>? Nobody ever asks about Muggy! Oh, you''ve made me so happy!" The tiny robot spun around in circles on his one tiny wheel. "Okay, maybe you''ve seen some of those big, imposing securitrons with their lovelyser guns and rocketunchers and scary faces?" I nodded.


    "Yeah, I blew up a few earlier," I smirked. Muggy nodded.


    "I''m not one of those." I tried very hard not tough. "Dr. O was always jealous of House Industries, and he thought it would be FUCKING HILARIOUS to build a tiny neurotic securitron. BIG. FUCKING. LAUGH."


    "So, is that why you''re so obsessed with mugs?" I asked. The tiny robot twitched.


    "I''m obsessed because they MADE me this way! You think I don''t know how crazy I sound? OF COURSE I DO! They programmed me to know that, too! They made me just to torture me. But you know? It''s the <em>neglect</em> that hurts the most." The tiny robot coughed, like he was clearing his throat, and then it sounded like he was trying to do an impression of Dr. Klein. "Hey everybody, let''s turn ourselves into robot brains in jars!" Muggy wailed in agony again. "Do you know how many coffee cups giant robot brains in jars use on a daily basis? <strong>NOT FUCKING MANY!</strong>"


    "But... what do you <em>do</em> with the mugs?" I asked, feeling a bit sorry for him now.


    "I''m supposed to keep them clean," Muggy said, almost calm for once. And then the calm evaporated. "OH, GOD! The thought of all those dirty dishes out there makes me CRAZY!" He started huffing and puffing and panting. "Most of them are probably beyond saving now... Do you have any? Please, please, PLEASE tell me you brought me some?!"


    "Tell you what," I said, standing up straight once again. "I saw some coffee cups in a truck I fixed up earlier. When I bring it back here, I''ll bring you the mugs, and any more I find. Deal?"


    "OH, SWEET, SWEET FULFILLMENT!"


    My n worked wonderfully. Jeeves was able to scan the tire, and (after a few botched attempts) made a replica of the tire I''d brought up. But instead of immediately heading back out to rece the tires and bring the truck back to the rtive safety of the front doors to the Think Tank dome... I decided to take the elevator deeper into the facility to visit the brains once again.


    "A LOBOTOMITE animal before me!" Borous floated over to me and started overacting as soon as I stepped into the Think Tank. "What other terrifying terrors will gue us in our quest for knowledge? Communists? Communist ANIMALS, perhaps? Be warned, attempt to propaganda ME, I will shriek as a frightened babe, calling loyal Cyberdogs to my aid. Do youprehend, Commie animal?"


    "Hey, Borous," I said with a smirk and augh. "I''m not just any lobotomite, you don''t have to worry about propaganda. Don''t you remember me? I''m the one collecting all the technologies. And I brought you Gabe''s bowl, remember?" Borous paused, hovering around me and staring for a few seconds.


    "Oh, yes!" Borous started nodding his tank. "I remember now. Gabe... what a rascal. But there are MANY animals I shaped HERE in BIG MOUNTAIN! Industrious cazadores, the happy-go-lucky nightstalkers... they are my living, breathing DNA test tubes!"


    And then the other shoe dropped.


    "Wait, wait, hang on. <strong>YOU</strong> are responsible for cazadores and nightstalkers?" I asked. I was so surprised that I''d forgotten why I came down here in the first ce. "I mean, that exins why I''ve seen both of them here, but..."


    "Indeed!" Borous proimed proudly,pletely ignoring my brief moment of rity. "Docile! Curious! Safe! Sterile! They are all contained here at Big Mountain to preserve DNA for observation! I created them... in..." He paused clearly thinking. "Two thousand... let''s see, carry the three... then count backwards from the Great Static... or beyond? There were the tarant debates... and something about hawks, which made it around... eh, it was probably one of the days in... 2003? I can''t recall which one, there were so many days that year. In particr, there were quite a lot of Tuesdays, so I have a feeling it may have been one of those. Perhaps it was one of those fresh June mornings in early May..."


    "Nevermind that," I tried to shake off the nonsense he was spewing. "What makes you think they <em>haven''t</em> escaped the Big Empty?" Borous stared at me curiously, as if he didn''t understand the question.


    "Because Big Mountain''s safety measures are far more sophisticated than their primitive animal instincts! WE are their lords and masters!" I didn''t even bother stifling theugh.


    "Sophisticated my toned, muscr buttocks, those assholes all over the Mojave!" Borous shook his tank and hovered to my other side.


    "No, no, no. Such creatures are found only HERE, for RESEARCH purposes! They would no more be capable of ESCAPE than BREEDING!"


    I couldn''t tell... was he fucking with me, or was his <em>legitimately</em> this stupid?


    "No, they breed all right. They nest and breed andy eggs and everything." Borous started shaking his tank more violently.


    "I cannot expect a LOBOTOMITE to understand the careful surgical castrating procedures used in their creation! Perhaps a demonstration of my castrating POWER would settle your doubts?" I nched and subtly reached down to cover my crotch. It was kind of a reflex, really. Any mention of castration is bound to make me involuntarily protect my gentlemen sausage.


    "Uh..." I coughed nervously. "No, that''s all right. I''m good."


    "Oh, that''s too bad," Borous seemed disappointed. "Perhaps we can perform a sterility castration some other time, then." I thought about that, thought about the cazadores, and couldn''t help butugh.


    "Eh, fuck. Go ahead! You might make me more fertile!" I said with augh, shaking my head. "Actually, nevermind, that reminds me of why I came down here in the first ce. See you around, Borous," I gave the green-tanked brain a wave, and started walking away.


    "Until NEXT time then!" He shouted at me while my back was turned. "Provided there IS a next time! For ANY of us!" I just shook my head, and kept walking towards the <em>real</em> reason I was here.


    "D!" I said with a smile. "There you are!" The purple-tanked brain jumped (wait, what?) at my voice, and very suddenly turned around, her tank glowing slightly as I approached.


    "Oh! Sheason! He-hello!" D''s voice was almost... she seemed happy to see me, let''s put it like that.


    "Hey, D. You miss me?" I smirked, walking over to her tank with a barely contained swagger. Her tank bubbled slightly.


    "Oh, I... yes. Yes, very much so. I didn''t think you''de back. I mean, when you left... and then I... but you..." She coughed, trying to hide how she was stumbling over her words; her tank glowed brighter and bubbled a bit more. "Yes, it''s very good to see you again, my little teddy bear."


    "Yeeeeah..." I stretchednguidly and sighed for her; the way her tank bubbled, she seemed pleased with that.. "Sorry I didn''t swing by earlier. I had a lot of fun the other night." I know you''re expecting me to say something like ''No I didn''t,'' but I actually meant what I said. Maybe I''m just odd.


    "Yes... s-so did I. So, what happened? Why are you only returning now?" I shrugged, and sniffed loudly, scratching my cheek; the light in her tank flickered.


    "Mostly because I''ve been out coldst few days. Got my arm chopped off, and had to get it reced." To illustrate the point, I flexed my cybeic arm. She didn''t seem as impressed or intrigued with it as I thought she might - and then I remembered. It was <em>organic</em> nonsense that got her motor running, wasn''t it?


    "Oh, you poor little fragile skinvelope with all your easily breakable organs..." D hovered around me, and I could almost feel her sensors scanning me - discreetly, of course, so as not to alert the other members of the Think Tank. "Are you alright? Are there any other... I mean... you weren''t... <em>damaged</em> in any other way?" Subtle as a freight train, D.


    "Don''t you worry your tank about that," I said, cing a hand on the ss dome to halt her in the middle of one of her orbits around me. I leaned in, whispering to her huskily. "That''s actually why I came down here. It''s been a hectic, stressful couple of days, and I was wondering..." I smirked, running a finger along one of her monitors. "... if maybe you want to help take the edge off with a bit of <em>science</em>?" Her tank glowed brightly and bubbled again.


    "Y-yes," D stammered out, barely holding back a few girlish giggles. "Science. Yes. I would like to be doing The Science again very much so, yes."

 Chapter 106: Attack of the Infiltrator!

    Chapter 106: Attack of the Infiltrator!


    It was around 10 the next morning when Roxie, Stripe and I all loaded up into the deuce and set out. I''d decided that I''d done enough screwing around (both literally and figuratively) for the time being, and focus on finding thest two technologies that would let me get into the Forbidden Zone and recover my brain. Only trouble was, what I <em>couldn''t </em>decide was which one I should try and find first: the stealth suit or the antenna. So I flipped for it.


    Tails. Stealth suit it is then!


    Roxie was certainly enjoying herself. She was sitting in the passenger seat, sticking her head out of the window as we drove along, bouncing over the rough and scarred Big Emptyndscape. Her tongue was lollingzily out of her mouth, and she just had a ridiculous look of bliss on her fuzzy face... made all the more absurd because her doggy jowls were pping in the breeze.


    Granted, I had to deal with a bit of a draft in the truck cab itself. See, I hadn''t been able to find a piece of ss big enough to cover even half the windshield (because I hadn''t been able to find any unbroken ss <em>at all</em>) so I just had to make do. I did find some chicken-wire mesh, though. It wasn''t much, but it was better than nothing.


    This was probably why I was wearing my sunsses and Stetson for the first time sinceing to the Big Empty.


    It wasn''t long before our destination came into view: arge cluster of irregrly ced hexagonal boxes. Well, I say ''hexagonal,'' but I couldn''t actually see if they were hexagons at the time. I just guessed, partly because hexagons seemed to be amon theme in the Big Empty, but mostly because when I asked Jeeves where X-13 was located, he said it was somewhere deep inside a ce called the ''X-66 hexcrete archipgo.''


    "What do you suppose we''ll find in there?" I asked aloud. Roxie didn''t look like she heard me. She continued sticking her head out of the window with a stupid, happy expression on her muzzle. Stripe, on the other hand, just looked up at me from his seat in the middle of the cab, squawking confusedly at me.


    The closer we got to the cluster of shapes, the more details seemed to jump out at me. I honestly couldn''t tell what the boxes ahead of me were made of. Metal? Rock? Who knows. Whatever it was, it was painfully clear that it wasn''t natural. The edges of the shapes were too precise. Too exact. Or, at the very least, too straight. Right angles everywhere. If this had originally been some kind of organic rock formation at some point in the past, it certainly wasn''t one anymore.


    Closer still, and more details appeared. The boxes were a dull, dark grey. Not quite metal, but definitely not stone, either. I stuck my head out of the window as we passed by one of the smaller ones barely sticking a few feet out of the ground; the top was indeed a hexagon, each edge about 10 feet across, and it looked like it was made out of concrete. Concrete... <em>hexcrete</em>. I groaned inwardly as the meaning clicked in my brain, and I just shook my head, continuing to drive.


    And then, a few secondster, I felt a tremendous, horrible juddering shake that threatened to shake my teeth out of my skull. I instinctively mmed my feet on both the brake and the clutch, and the back end of the massive truck fishtailed for a few seconds before everything finally screeched to a halt. Stripe and Roxie were shaken a bit, but adapted surprisingly quick, considering. A cloud of dust, tire smoke, and the smell of burnt brakes filled the cab. Roxie barked, and Stripe started squeaking.


    "What the fuck was that?" I asked, looking around. To be honest, I wasn''t terrified that something bad was happening <em>outside</em> the truck. I was more worried that something had gone wrong with the <em>engine</em>. But as I sat there, the engine ahead of me rumbled smoothly, and there wasn''t any steaming out from under the hood. I hadn''t been changing gear when everything shook, so I didn''t think it was an issue of the transmission going wrong suddenly and without warning...


    Everything shook violently again, more forcefully this time... and my eyes went wide as I realized it definitely <em>wasn''t</em> the truck. Off in the distance, between a pair of hexagonal concrete pirs, the ground split open violently. Rocks, debris, and other bits of detritus were all pushed aside as a new hexagonal concrete pir emerged from underneath the ground and started to raise itself up.


    "What the..." I trailed off, tipping my hat back and staring in awe as I leaned my head out of the window. The concrete pir was enormous! It was absolutely massive! And yet it was moving steadily up, for no apparent reason at all... and then, the bottom emerged out of the ground, and <em>it just kept going up</em>. Once it waspletely clear of the earth - easily 40 or 50 feet in the air above the ground, or so - the giant hexagonal pir started to move silently and smoothly through the air like a balloon.


    What.


    "Oh, now that just ain''t right." This didn''t make any kind of sense, even for this ce. The pir looked like it was made out of concrete, and concrete <em>does not fly</em>. I couldn''t see any method or means by which it kept itself aloft. And it didn''t make any noise as it sailed through the sky in exactly the same way that a brick doesn''t. Its very presence, moving through the air to a spot above my head,pletely defied any rational or reasonable exnation.


    "Uh oh." As I stared up at the giant concrete pir, suspended in the air almost directly over my head, a pang of paranoia took hold of my brain. As quick as I could, I put the deuce back in gear and floored it. It took a few seconds for the heavy truck to stop spinning its wheels and get back up to a decent speed, but it did, thankfully, get going. And just in time, too!


    The ground behind me shook like a bomb went off, and I struggled against the steering wheel to try and keep the truck steady. Even though I couldn''t see it (since I had no mirrors), it was obvious the pir had crashed into the ground... and it was like the floodgates had opened. The ground continued to violently shake, and all around me as I sped along the broken and scarred terrain... the giant hexcrete pirs started to move and shift and lift up out of the ground and float around to rearrange themselves.


    And I wasn''t in a vehicle built for fast cornering. Oh joy.


    For two solid minutes, I drove at full tilt and trying to dodge the dozens (possibly hundreds) of flying hexagonal concrete pirs moving themselves in seemingly random directions all around me. I was reminded a little of when I had to first say ''hi'' to the Boomers, and I had to dodge artillery strikes... except, with that, I had the benefit of ED-E warning me whenever they were about to fire. Here, I had no such luxury. Made things quite clenching, if you follow.


    One of the pirs zoomed perilously close to the deuce. It came out of nowhere, and was flying through the air no more than five feet off the ground directly in front of me. I let out a curse through gritted teeth, and swerved to avoid it. Honestly, I didn''t know what I was cursing; was it the rogue hexcrete flying along in front of my path, or was it the fact that the damn truck was so fucking top-heavy that such a sharp maneuver damn nearly flipped the bitch? The truck skidded sideways, but through skill, determination, or just sheer dumb luck, I managed to hold the slide and keep the truck from rolling over...


    And then the engine stalled.


    I was just about ready to leap out and carry on the rest of the way on foot, when I looked out of the side window next to me and noticed something: apart from the one hexcrete that had nearly run into me (which was now in the process of attaching itself of the upper edge of one of therger pirs nearby), all of them had stopped moving. I leaned back into my seat and let out a sigh of relief, my hands falling off the steering wheel and the shifter.


    "BARK!"


    "HOLY FUCK!" I yelled, practically jumping out of my seat through the roof of the cab. "Fuckin''... hell, I almost forgot you two were here..." Roxie and Stripe looked up at me expectantly, both of them looking a bit confused. Clearly, they hadn''t been as worried about that nonsense as I had been.


    The rest of the trip through the archipgo was, thankfully, free of any more surprises. I honestly still don''t know why those damn pirs started moving in the first ce. Was it that they detected motion, was it the vibrations or heat from the car, or were they on some kind of invisible, old-world timer, set up to rearrange themselves at pre-determined intervals for some unknown and wholly iprehensible scientific experiment of some kind? Who knows. Maybe there wasn''t actually any kind of purpose. Like, the Think Tank just woke up one morning and went "Let''s see what happens!" and went from there.


    Hell, I''m just d they seemed to be sticking to this one area of the crater. It would be <em>highly inconvenient</em> if I had to worry about giant hexagonal blocks of concrete falling on my head out of nowhere. In the same way that a honey badger tearing off my testicles would be inconvenient.


    In any event, I was eventually able to find X-13. It was, in fact, located precisely in the center of the hexcrete archipgo... and looked to be the only solid, non-moving structure for half a mile in every direction. Like X-8, I was able to identify it by therge satellite dish pointing at the sky mounted on top of the building, with arge "X 13" painted in big bold letters on the side.


    The pathway leading up to the entrance was made up of hexagons, and at first I was a bit hesitant to proceed, given what happened moments earlier... but these hexagons didn''t look like tops of hexcrete pirs that moved. These looked like real metal, several pipes snaked their way out of the hexagons and into side of the X-13 building, and several lights illuminated the edges of the hexagons. These, clearly, weren''t supposed to move.


    Hopefully.


    I hopped out of the truck, and made my way around to the truck bed in the back. I''d found a camouged canvas cargo cover in one of the many hidey-holes on the truck when I''d rebuilt the engine, so now the back was (rtively) protected from the elements... which was good, because I''d turned the back of the truck into a makeshift armory.


    "Ah! Hello again!" Sasha said happily as I jumped into the back. "Are we off to fight enemy team?"


    "Maybe," I said, carefully looking over the collection of weapons. Sasha was mounted on the wall closest to the cab, the anti-materiel rifle was mounted on the right inside wall, and the Te cannon was mounted on the left. Various other guns were strapped down into various ces; most of the remaining avable space was taken up with ammo boxes full of replicated ammunition and grenades. "Not sure what I''m gonna see in there."


    "Where is there?" Sasha asked. The brain under the barrels sniffed.


    "We are at X-13,e to pick up the stealth suit. Know anything about this ce that might help?" The brain suddenly started growling. "Problem?"


    "!" the minigun cursed in Russian. At least, it <em>sounded </em>like a curse. "I remember X-13bs. Lots of narrow corridors. Twists and turns. Is maze of dead ends and tiny rooms for tiny men." I nodded, grunting my understanding. I''d almost figured as much from my foray into X-8. What surprised me was what he said next: "Is not ce for heavy weapon, like me. Close range weapon will work best. Shotgun. Carbine. Killing gloves of boxing, maybe?"


    "Wh- really?" I was a bit taken aback. "What, you don''t want toe with me?"


    "Oh, I do! Believe me." Sasha said, the brain barking again. "Shooting enemy team is fun, but I understand specific role inbat. Down inbs, I would be terribly cumbersome, and get in your way. I would much rather you survive than indulge my desire for entertainment."


    "Thanks, I appreciate that," Iughed. "So, you knowbat tactics then?" I asked, rifling through one of the ammo boxes. Sasha barked again.


    "Oh yes. Is byproduct of my testing. Speaking of - there are many metal men inside testing facility. Robots were part of test for sneaking suit. Chose loadout ordingly."


    "Well, I''ve been looking for a chance to use some pulse slugs," I smirked, grabbing a box of 12 gauge shells with yellow shell cases, and loaded them into the sawed-off and the ammo loops on the side of the shotgun holster. "Thanks for the tip." Sasha barked.


    "Happy to be of use! But there is... ehm..." the gun coughed, and the brain made a strange sort of sniffle.


    "What''s up?" I asked, checking the ammo in the G36 to make sure it was loaded with armor piercing rounds.


    "I was wondering... the cyberdog who saved you and recovered me from that muddy hill the other day?"


    "Roxie?" I asked curiously. Sasha let out a pair of barks.


    "! Roxie... She is quite the canine! A magnificent specimen, truly... strong and ferocious..." The brain started panting.


    "Ah..." I could see where this was going.


    I was actually kind of surprised. Not because Sasha was smitten with Roxie. I could <strong>buy</strong> that, easily. A brain in a jar taking fancy to an organic? <em>Of course</em> I was cool with that. Clearly. No, I was surprised simply because I kept forgetting that beneath the minigun which talked like a man and spoke on military tactics with a thick Russian ent, Sasha was (technically) still a dog.


    "I have been trying to... I mean, I want to talk... but I..." Sasha let out another sniff. "It is difficult considering my current... <em>chassis</em>. Do you think... perhaps... you could put in good word for me?"


    I paused, resisting the urge to make a stupid crack about puppy love. It might be funny, but it would be stupendously rude and insensitive, so I said something else entirely.


    "I''ll see what I can do."


    X-13 was still and empty when I stepped inside. I scanned the interior, my G36 at the ready; aside from the metal walls, this first room looked like a reception in an office building. The inside was dimly lit. Not terribly dark by any means, and certainly not enough to warrant the use of my nightvision. But dark enough that I did take off my sunsses.


    Stripe let out a trilling purr from his perch on my shoulder as I scanned the room with the carbine. Roxie had elected to stay behind and guard the guns in the back of the truck... an idea which I <em>may</em> have possibly had a hand in suggesting to her.


    Sasha was right about one thing: this ce was a maze. Lots of narrow corridors (beyond the office-like entryway), just like he described. On the plus side, it was rtively easier to navigate than a normal maze, because (to my utter surprise and astonishment) it was rtively well signed.


    There were threebs, eachbeled (rather unhelpfully) with only a number. But they looked more like workshops thanboratories. There were workbenches, tools scattered everywhere, pieces of broken and dismantled armor that I couldn''t readily identify, and so on. About the only boratory'' things in thebs were the chalkboards (covered in notes and vaguely unintelligible scientific equations) and the terminals with research notes.


    Most of the notes on the chalkboards and the terminals were pretty dry and uninteresting... except for two. There was a note on one of the terminals that said the suit would ''adjust'' itself to the user. Which didn''t make sense to me, and wouldn''t until I actually put on the suit. The other one was a series of notes on the chalkboard insideb 2, which was instead funny, rather than confusing. The notes were summed up in a single phrase.


    <strong>BOOT TEST: KICK A NIGHTSTALKER!</strong>


    Another oddity: I didn''t find the stealth suit already ready to go, like I expected. Instead, it was broken into three pieces - gloves inb 1, boots inb 2, and a chest piece inb 3. And when I collected them all... they didn''t look all that impressive. The boots had a strange sort of ring around the top, the gloves looked like they were supposed to go up past my elbows, and the chest... well, it was just a (seemingly) solid piece of sculpted metal, and a pair of looping straps where my arms were supposed to go.


    "This... doesn''t look like it''s going to work..." I said aloud to Stripe as he sat on one of the workbenches, staring at the loose collection of armor pieces. He looked up at me and let out a squawk. I let out a sigh and shrugged. So I started stripping off what I needed to make way for this hodgepodge stealth suit - boots, duster, holsters and ammo harnesses, even my Pip Boy had to go. Although I put that back on just as soon as I put on the gloves. "So this is supposed to go on like here, and then..." I muttered to myself, shoving the bottoms of my jeans into the boots as Stripe kept staring at me curiously.


    As soon as I slipped my arms through the straps on the chest piece, everything changed.


    There was a series of shrill beeps, followed by a trio of shing lights on the top of the chest te - three red, which then changed to three yellow, and then to three green. Immediately, all of my limbs seized up for no apparent reason, making thempletely straight and stiff. I could hear the unmistakable sound of some kind of small mechanical witchcraft going on somewhere.


    "Aural Stealth Suit Mk II online," I heard a soft, robotic female voice say from a speaker somewhere on the armor. "Now auto-adjusting size to fit current user specifications." As the voice spoke, I could feel <em>things</em> moving across my limbs; the pieces of the suit were connecting to each other, folding out and fitting together seamlessly. When I could finally move my limbs again, and I looked down at the ck suit with white stripes and white metal tes, I couldn''t help but wonder: <em>how did all of this fold in on itself? </em>The mind boggled.


    "Hello!" It said cheerfully as I inspected the armor that had built itself around me. "It''s nice to meet you. Who can I hide you from today?"


    "Uh... Hi. It''s... uh... nice to meet you too." I offered up weakly. I started re-attaching all my weapons and ammo to myself, eventually tossing the sleeveless duster over everything.


    "You''re my best friend forever!" the stealth suit said cheerfully.


    Stripe squawked out augh.


    "So, do you know what we''re supposed to actually do in here?" I asked the stealth suit as I walked deeper into the facility. Stripe was perched on my shoulder "Knowing this ce, just finding you isn''t going to be enough..."


    "There are a series of tests we need toplete in order to update my firmware." The suit replied. "We will need to be sneaky and unseen to seed - and I can help us with that! No one is ever as unnoticed as me." I peered over one of the catwalks, looking down into the testing area. It looked like a series of offices...


    "Alright, sounds easy enough," I muttered; I didn''t think firmware was something that <em>could</em> be updated, but whatever, maybe I''m wrong. "So, how do we start it?"


    "The terminal to start the test is in the entryway directly below us," the stealth suit said. I peered over the railing again, and realized that I''d walked to apletely different part of the test; there was a small terminal in front of a set of closed double doors. I didn''t see any other way of getting down there quickly, so I shrugged... and vaulted over the railing.


    Inded deftly on my feet, and was entirely expecting the impact of a two-story drop to make some kind of sound... but no. The only sound I heard was the soft fluttering of my duster, and Stripe squeaking as his paws dug into my shoulder. The more I thought about it, the more I realized: I hadn''t heard any of my footsteps since putting the boots on upstairs. The soles of these shoes must be able to neutralize the noise of footsteps somehow.


    "Okay..." I coughed, examining the terminal. "So, I select the test, and then we have to make our way through without being seen?" The terminal winked on, and several options were avable for various different test parameters that could be selected.


    "Yes," the stealth suit responded. "There will be robots,ser tripwires, proximity mines, and turrets all trying to stop us." I nodded, selecting the test. The double doors clicked, and it sounded like they unlocked. "The objective is to recover the documents in the office at the other end of the course."


    "Seems simple enough," I whispered, gently pushing against the door. I looked around, and it quickly became apparent that this was a recreation of a REPCONN office,plete with a faded and rusty metal logo bolted to the wall. As soon as we stepped across the threshold, a hum filled the air and the hallway beyond the front desk was crisscrossed with half a dozen bright bluesers. Immediately, Stripe hopped off my shoulder, and scuttled his way deeper into the maze and out of sight.


    "The robots will be looking for us," the stealth suit said, in a strangely soft sing-song voice as I crouched down low into the fake office. "But we won''t let them find us, will we?"


    "No we won''t. So, question," I said softly, vaulting over the desk to bypass a pair ofsers; ahead of me was a copsed section of wall that led into a room full of servers, several moresers, and a very conspicuously lit up proximity mine. "If you''re a stealth suit, can we turn invisible?"


    "Will you love me if I help you hide?" It asked. I stopped dead in my tracks, a bit unsure how to proceed at first.


    "Uh... sure?" I whispered optimistically.


    "Activation of the proprietary Big Mountain thermo-optic camouge system is achieved by depressing the central button in the belt buckle," the suit stated happily. I looked down - there was a small hexagonal belt buckle that indeed had a tiny circr button in the middle. I pressed the button with a click, and suddenly I heard a noise not entirely unlike a camera taking a picture.


    This thermo-optic camouge was absolutely nothing like the effect of using a Stealth Boy. A hum filled my ears, and every part of me was surrounded by a shimmering miasma of pale multi-colored light for half a second. My body faded away and became mostly see through. It wasn''t a perfect illusion, though... I looked down, straight through the shimmering, slightly distorted air where my legs used to be, and I could see my shadow still being cast onto the floor.


    "Well, that''s certainly different..." I said quietly, stealthily making my way to a nearby door. I peered into the next room, and saw a robot. It looked a little like the vaguely cylindrical, wobbly-armed, tread wheeled form of a robobrain - lying in a crumpled heap,pletely deactivated. "... and that''s also different."


    "That''s not supposed to happen," the stealth suit said, apparently just as confused as I was. I stepped inside, examining the crumpled metal heap. The robot lying facedown on the floor, was, indeed, deactivated. "That''s too bad. These robots would normally help defend us and the facility if we were attacked." Hang on a sec, I''d seen this kind of handiwork before...


    Cautiously, I made my way further into the fake office. The next hallway was a spider web ofsers bisecting the walkway (with an obviously visible path that I didn''t even have to duck to get through), and a couple of blinking proximity mines scattered around. At the far end of the hallway was another broken robot, and aser turret... which was also quite obviously broken. The entire top half of the turret was lying on its side.


    "Where are the robots?" The stealth suit asked. "I thought we were supposed to be hiding from them, not the other way around." I didn''t respond. I just calmly walked further into the office, past the scrapped and ruined defenses. "What''s going on?"


    "I think I can guess," I said, turning the corner, and pushing the button on my belt. It clicked, stopped humming, and I reappeared in time to see thest robobrain lying inert on the floor. Stripe was hunched over on top of it, chewing on a pair of wires sticking out of a torn-open panel. "You work fast, don''t you little buddy?" Stripe spat out the wires, squeaked, and scampered off the robot and back up me to sit on my shoulder. The stealth suitughed softly.


    "We were never allowed to destroy the robots before!" She said with augh. "Cheating gives me such a thrill!" I pushed open a nearby door; the cracked and rusty que indicated that this was the CEO''s office.


    "Better stick with me in that case, doll," I said, carefully stepping over a pair ofsers and sidestepping another proximity mine. "If at first you don''t seed, cheat, I always say. I said that once."


    The stealth suit started giggling quietly.


    I stepped into the next room, and was presented with arge office table with a high-backed leather chair in front of arge set of illuminated opaque windows with arge REPCONN sign mounted over them. On the right side of the wall was a veryrge and ringly obvious safe. I pressed a button on the front, and the door popped open with a clunk.


    "So, is this the firmware whatever?" I asked, picking up a small circuit board with a white metal edge. The edge seemed to match the same kind of metal on my chest te armor. Aside from that, the only thing in the safe was a scrap of paper which simply said ''Secret X-13 Document, Please Do Not Steal!''


    "Please remove the outdated firmware on the right side of the armor, and install the firmware update." The stealth suit exined calmly. It didn''t take me long to find what she was talking out, and I swiftly swapped the two circuit boards. As soon as I did, the armor lit up with the green lights again, it beeped, and she started speaking again: "Firmware updated to Version 1.4. Boot Dampening Sensors online. Aural Su online. Impulse elerator online. All settings synched to users physiology."


    "Huh..." I tossed the old circuit board back into the safe and looked around; all thesers had turned off, and the one proximity mine I could see waspletely dark. "Well, that was easy enough."


    All at once, xons sounded off overhead, and several spinning yellow lights activated on the ceiling above me.


    "YOU FOOL!" I heard a voice yell from over the inte. It was ragged, maniacal, and I hadn''t heard it in several days, but it was unmistakable.


    "Mobius..." I growled, shrugging the G36 off my shoulder and into my hands.


    "Even that Aural Stealth Suit will not hide you from my Robo-Scorpion army!" Mobius yelled over the speaker; in the next room in front of me, the air crackled. Blue lightning suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and the scent of burnt ozone filled my nostrils. "Sting the intruder my pets! Sting them until they are <strong>stupid</strong>!" I kicked the desk over and readied the carbine. I didn''t have anywhere to go, and I had to be ready...


    The room seemed to warp and bend with a spatial distortion as the lightning got thicker. There was a sh, and suddenly a robot appeared in the other room. It was sorge, it filled the entire room, crushing several pieces of furniture as it materialized. It looked... like a robotic radscorpion. A robotic radscorpion that had three cameras for eyes behind a rectangr pane of ss. That wasn''t really surprising. What <em>was</em> surprising was the color scheme. Most of it was a bright yellow color (like you''d see in ck-and-yellow hazard striping) except for the ws and the end of the tail, which were painted red. And speaking of the end of the tail, it was clearly some form of energy weapon - was this the ''intelligence draining''ser the Think Tank was so worried about?


    "Mean robot bugs!" the stealth suit squeaked with urgency. "Mean robot bugs!"


    The G36 barked and the room lit up from the multiple muzzle shes. Sparks burst off the chassis of the robot as my bullets tore through the air. The robot shuddered violently - and I could''ve sworn I heard Mobius'' voice yell out "Ow!" with every impact - but I saw the tail lift up, readying itself to fire.


    I ducked, and a split-secondter, a blueser beam sliced through the air above me. It looked suspiciously like the LAER''s discharge. The fake window behind me exploded in a shower of ss. I kept low, trying to keep safe from the broken ss raining down on top of me, and leaned around the table to fire the G36 again.


    "Hey, quit it!" Mobius'' voice was definitelying a speaker somewhere on the robo-scorpion. "You''ll damage the hull!"


    I ducked back behind the table narrowly avoiding another LAER st. The G36 had run dry. It had definitely done some visible damage, but not enough to put it out ofmission. I pulled out the sawed off shotgun on my thigh, popped up over the desk, and let loose with both barrels. Electricity arced and sparked along the robo-scorpion when the slugs impacted, and the robot convulsed violently, shuddering onest time before copsing in a heap on the ground.


    "Well... that wasn''t so har-"


    The robo-scorpion exploded.


    I was so surprised that I was almost knocked off my feet. It was like the robot was ripping itself apart from the inside. I shielded my eyes reflexively as an explosion of bright blue fire and electricity ripped through the room, turning the robo-scorpion into a literal burnt crisp. Hell, by the time the explosions stopped going off and all that was left was the mangled, twisted metal scraps, smoke and steam rising out of the ripped apart robot carcass, even the paint had peeled.


    I could hear the sounds and see the shing blue lights of more teleport distortionsing from ces outside the room.


    "You can''t avoid the deadlyser stings of MOBIUS!" the mad brain yelled over the same speaker as before. "Destroy as many of my robo-scorpions as you want, I''ll just make more! Go, my minions! String them in the name of all that is MOBIUS! Mwa-ha-haa!"


    "We gotta get out''ve here," I said, reloading the G36, and looking around. Stripe had disappeared from my shoulder in the ruckus. The stealth suit, on the other hand, seemed calmer than before. Maybe it was the fact that I''d destroyed one.


    "Remember! Thermo-optic camouge systems are a robot''s big weakness!" she offered up helpfully. I nodded my agreement, vaulted over the upended desk, and quickly pressed the button on the belt as I ran out of the room.


    The hallway outside was filled with robo-scorpions. These were much smaller than the one before, and could actually maneuver around without getting stuck on something. The air shimmered all around me; I was mostly see-through, but the distortions got worse the faster I moved. Not that I really had a choice. I ran through the crowded hallway, sidestepping the confused robot scorpions and made my way to the exit.


    "What do you mean, you <em>lost</em> him?!" I heard Mobius'' voice echoing out of several robots as I rushed past them silently. "By Jove''s lugnuts, I need to get this monitor fixed. Look harder!"


    It felt like a much longer trip getting back up than it was going down. All around me as I rushed back through the facility to try and get to the entrance, more and more robot scorpions teleported in, all trying to find me. asionally, the optical camo would fail slightly, and draw the attention of one of the robots.


    "It''s no use hiding like this!" Mobius voiced echoed menacingly from behind me as I kept running. "Let''s be friends, you and I! You can''t run forever!" The voice seemed to trail off into iprehensibility as I kept running. I was near the exit now, I was sure of it...


    Squeak!


    I skidded to a halt, just outside Lab 3, and looked in. There was Stripe, sitting in theb, looking right at me - and pointing one of his wed fingers down at my boots on the floor. I didn''t take the time to be surprised that he could see through the camo perfectly, I just shouldered the rifle in my hands, rushed in, grabbed the boots off the floor, picked up Stripe, and ran out of the room again, carrying the tiny deathw under my arm like a football. Stripe let out a pleased squeak as both he and the boots in my hands slowly vanished beneath a pale multicolored shimmer.


    A few minutester, I burst through the front door and into the bright light of the midday Big Empty sun. The deuce was still right where I''d left it, and there didn''t appear to be any robo-scorpions teleporting in... although there were a few dead nightstalkers scattered around. I guess it was a good thing I left Roxie out here to guard the truck.


    "Well, d that''s over..." I turned off the camouge with a click and proceeded to set both Stripe and my boots down on the ground. Stripe squeaked happily, and scampered up into the truck cab. I heard a bark, and Roxie emerged, jumping down from the back of the truck and bounding over to me.


    "Wow..." the stealth suit said breathlessly. "What <em>is </em>this ce? Are we... <em>outside</em>?"


    "We certainly are," I said to that suit as I tossed my boots into the truck, and gave Roxie a gentle scratch behind the ears. "Thanks for the help in there. I couldn''t have done it without you." That wasn''t entirely true. I''m sure I could''ve managed it, but I would''ve burned through a lot more ammo, and it would''ve taken a hell of a lot longer. Either way, I was genuinely grateful.


    "It was nothing, really," the stealth suit said softly. "I just don''t want you to die."


    "Thanks, that makes two of us," I said with augh, jumping behind the wheel of the truck. "So, do you have a name?"


    There was a very long pause.


    "A... name?" the suit seemed surprised. "I... I don''t know. I don''t think the scientists ever <em>gave</em> me a name." Another very long pause. "I... I''ve always kind of liked the name Susan?"


    "Well, hello there Sue," I said as the deuce came to life with a heavy rumble. "It''s nice to meet you. I''m Sheason."


    "Hi..." Sue the stealth suit started giggling as I drove off, away from X-13.

 Chapter 107: OMINOUS TOAST

    Chapter 107: OMINOUS TOAST


    The X-2 Transmitter Antenna Array tower loomed over me like a giant monolith, stretching to the sky. Unlike the X-8 and X-13 facilities, which had satellite towers mounted on top of thebs, this building was little more than just a massive tower with a giant dish on the top pointing straight at the sky. It was much bigger than the other towers, as well. But that wasn''t what was worrying me right now.


    Drawn on the front of the door in fading red spray paint was another g symbol.


    The red gs meant bad news. I''d learned that much. But there didn''t seem to be any one - or any <em>thing</em> - around. The deuce was parked next to arge old pipe, Stripe was fast asleep on one of the seats in the cab of the deuce, and Roxie was looking up at me curiously. Off in the distance to the north, the dome in the center of the Big Empty sat silent and still.


    "Rox, stay with the truck," I said. "I shouldn''t be too long." I gripped the holorifle in my hands tight, and made for the door. As much as I liked the G36, it needed a whole magazines worth of armor piercing ammo to even put a dent in the bigger robo-scorpions. I was prepared to bet good money that I''d run into more teleported robo-scorpions fresh from Mobius the moment I found whatever it is I was looking for. And that meant I was gonna need something with a bit more oomph.


    Cautiously, I made my way up the short concrete stairs and tried the door handle. It wouldn''t budge. I sighed, tossing the holorifle back over my shoulder.


    <strong>CLANNNG!</strong>


    The door ripped away from the hinges in a shower of sparks and flew into the tower, smashing into a nearby stairwell.


    "What are we doing here?" Sue asked quietly from a speaker somewhere on my chest.


    "We''re here to pick up an antenna," I walked calmly into the darkened tower, looking up. Through a strange trick of the light, it seemed bigger on the inside. "Klein wants it along with the sonic gun," I reached behind me and pulled out the energy pistol, "And you. Apparently, all three together will -"


    "Sneaking done!" Sue interrupted me hastily. "Fighting now!" From above me, I heard a synthesized voice speaking in stilted tones.


    "<strong>Attention. This is now abat zone. You may suffer harm up to and including death if you remain in the area. This notice is required byw.</strong>"


    "Oh, hey!" I tossed the sonic into my right hand and pulled out the pulse gun, readying both energy pistols. "Protectrons! Haven''t run into anything this weak in a while. Should be fun!" Sure enough, on one of the catwalks above me, I could see a protectron robot looking down the stairs directly at me.


    ZOWNTCH!


    A redser beam burst out of the protectrons head with a sh, and sizzled through the air. I ducked out of the way, started rushing up the stairs, and calmly took aim. That''s what I love about protectrons. They stand so still all the time, I don''t even need VATS.


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    The sonic gun erupted in a ring of blue energy. It hit the robot square in the chest, turning it concave with a crunch of twisting metal. The light on the protectron''s done flickered, before it spluttered off and toppled forward in a heap. Secondster, I was stepping over the broken robot, firing the pulse gun at the next one, further up the stairs.


    "<strong>Engaging hosti-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-</strong>" It was hit with a streak of lightning and started stuttering madly; aser st erupted from the dome on the top, shooting off wildly up into the air. A bolt of energy arced along the metal chassis, ending at the ss dome, making it explode in a shower of light and phosphor.


    There was onest protectron. It was standing by the edge of the top-most catwalk, next to adder that led further up into the darkness.


    "<strong>Warning. This is a restricted ar-</strong>"


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    I fired both energy pistols before it could finish - the pulse gun first, and then the sonic. It twitched madly as energy cascaded in waves over its body for a half second, and then the bark from the sonic mmed into its head. It toppled back, tumbling end over end over the railing and fell down to the bottom in a shower of sparks. It must have fallen a full two stories before bing a metal pancake. I leaned over the railing and let out a whistle, watching the parts scatter in all directions.


    "Was that all?" Sue asked, almost... was that confusion or disappointment I was hearing in the stealth suit''s voice?


    "For the moment," I holstered both energy pistols and started climbing thedder. A momentter, I was pushing open the hatch at the top and emerged back outside. I looked around, and realized that I was now standing in the dish of the satellite. Several panels were missing, but they were conspicuously filled in with shimmering blue forcefields. There were a trio of pylons that started at the edge of the dish, and converged into arge pole sticking out of the center of the satellite dish.


    "So, what do you suppose we''ll have to do here?" I asked aloud, walking over to one of the pylons. "More tests, I imagine."


    "Well, if all you need to do is collect the antenna..." Sue started. I walked slowly up the pylon to the pole in the center. There was arge device, covered in wires sticking out of the pole, with what looked like arge copper tire wrapped around the end. "That''s it, right there in front of you. All you have to do is pull the safety pin at the base, and remove it from the housing."


    I paused halfway up the pylon, considering that.


    "What, is that it?" I asked, my tone almost mirroring Sue''s earlier.


    "I think so. Why? What''s the problem?" the stealth suit asked.


    "Nothing, nothing..." I shook it off, chuckling slightly and continuing my ascent. "I just... I dunno, I guess I just thought it''d be moreplicated than that."


    As soon as I pulled the pin, there was arge metal clunk and a hiss of steam shot out of the base; several of the wires that were wrapped up in conduits suddenly disconnected themselves. The antenna wobbled in ce slightly, and would have fallen to the waysidepletely if I hadn''t caught it. Once it was free of its mounting, it looked roughly the same size and shape as a super sledge. If I didn''t know this was supposed to be an antenna, I''d swear that this was some kind of big club used for bashing in faces.


    I didn''t even get halfway back down to the dish before the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A shimmer of lighting started to crackle in the center of the dish - right above the hatch that led down. A belch of ozone invaded my nostrils half a secondter.


    Right on time. I leapt off the pylon and started backing up to the edge of the dish...


    "Intruder!" Mobius voice bellowed out of the robo-scorpion that suddenly materialized out the electric tear in reality. "Return what you have stolen from X-2!"


    "How about no?" I smirked, getting into position. By a strange stroke of luck, the robo-scorpion had teleported in backwards, and was wasting quite a long time scuttling around in ce to face me. "It''s nice of you to drop in like this, but I''m afraid I need to drop out. Bye!"


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    I fired the sonic at the force field I was standing on, and dropped like a rock through the newly formed hole in the dish just as the robot brought the tailser to bear. The air above my head crackled with energy, and the edge of the dish near the hole exploded in a shower of sparks. I dropped down right onto the side of the tower, sliding against the slightly angled concrete.


    "You won''t steal the X-2 Transmitter Array Antenna, interloper!" I heard the voice of Mobius call out after me as I slid down the side. "You won''t seed, not if my lethal robo-scorpions have any say in the matter!" Below me I could see a rtively t stretch of pathway carved out of the side of a rocky cliff, connected to the tower by a hatch door. I kicked off the edge of the tower, and crashed shoulder-first into the jagged rock wall.


    "Oof!" I winced as I mmed against the rough and uneven rocks... but grinned at the same time at my daring escape! "Well now! That was different!" I got back on my feet, the X-2 antenna still held firmly in my grip. I looked up at the dish - easily 50 feet or so above my head, now - andughed at the robo-scorpion iling fruitlessly at nothing.


    "Well, that was easy," I holstered the sonic, and barely got two steps before I was hit in the face with another burst of ozone.


    "You think so?!" Mobius'' voice bellowed from some unseen speaker somewhere. "Think again! You cannot evade the all-seeing-eye of MOBIUS that easily! MWA-HA-HAA!" Several streaks of blue lighting bolts materialized in the air ahead of me, arcing against the rock pathway.


    "Oh, right!" I shouted, breaking into a run. "They''re teleporters!"


    "Painkiller reserves critical," Sue said as I ran; a streak of blue energy sizzled the air over my head. "Oh. The pain." She added with a stunningck of emphasis and rm. If I didn''t know any better, I''d say she was being deliberately snarky.


    "Stay still, why don''t you!" I heard one of the robo-scorpions shout from somewhere behind me. I shot a nce over my shoulder as I kept running; there were at least three robo-scorpions behind me, but I couldn''t see any more bolts of lightning tearing through reality. The other two robots were muttering some kind of incoherent ramblings just as -


    "Whoops!" I dove behind some of the rocks, just as aser shed very close to me. A reminder that I''m not running fast enough! As luck would have it, I ended up finding a decent ce to hide - what looked like some kind of cave. I almost didn''t notice it at first... I ran right past it, in fact. I only stopped because I turned to try and see if the robo-scorpions were following me at just the right time and saw a locker half-way buried into the soil near the cave entrance.


    Painted on the door of the locker was a blue g symbol.


    I skidded to a halt and pulled a sharp u-turn, running into the cave mouth as quick as I could, stuck to the shadows, and pressed the button in the center of Sue''s belt.


    "What are yo-" Sue began, but I shushed her swiftly. She got the point, and I stayed still as I could, the camo system blending me into the background of the darkened cave quite nicely. A few secondster, I saw the trio of robo-scorpions walking right past the cave.


    "What do you mean, you lost him?" Mobius bellowed through all three robots simultaneously. "Look harder! Useless tin can mustard... custard..." the rest of it faded into iprehensible mumbling gibberish, and then faded out altogether as all three of the robots skittered away out of sight.


    I let out a sigh of relief after the robots passed, and pressed the button; a few seconds of shimmering digital miasma washing over me and I waspletely visible again. I took a step forward... and then turned on my heel, heading deeper into the cave.


    "Why are we going this way?" Sue asked. I switched my eyes to nightvision, and the cave was illuminated in a faint green haze. "Shouldn''t we return the antenna to the Think Tank as quickly as possible?"


    "Not just yet," I said. "It''s probably best if we let those robots keep looking for us. Let ''em put some distance between us and them, y''know?" And it''ll give me a chance to look around. There was something here. I <em>knew</em> there was something here. Otherwise that Other Courier wouldn''t have left a mark.


    There was a pattern here. I just had to learn it.


    "Oh... my..." Sue stammered out. I had just finished following the bright light at the end of the tunnel and stepped into a cavern. The source of the light, whatever it was, was blinding with my nightvision on, so I switched my eyes back to normal and -


    I blinked several times, at a bit of a loss for words. I suddenly understood why Sue was a bit speechless herself.


    It looked like... some kind of altar. But not quite. It was a metal shelf, twisted and broken. Bent into rough shapes. Several thick lit candles were scattered around, stuck to sharp points on the metal shelf, on standing on t spaces. Half a dozen metal toasters - only two of which looked even remotely intact - were also ced on and around the shelf... next to <em>skulls</em>. Like they were <em>tribute</em>. A red pentagram was painted on the rock wall behind the twisted shelf, and at the base of the shelf was arge cinderblock with a smaller red pentagram painted on top. Two lit candles were sitting on the cinderblock (one on each side) and sitting in the middle of the cinderblock, right in the middle of the small pentagram was...


    A small grey box with a white hexagon painted on top.


    It was instantly familiar - another personality chip. I reached for it almost as soon as I saw it. And then I hesitated. What was it <em>doing</em> here? Why was it seemingly the focus of this altar? And what is that low, rumbling, groaning noise?


    Wait, groaning?


    I reacted instantly. I dropped the antenna, snatched up the personality chip, spun in ce, shoved the chip in one of my pants pockets, and drew Roscoe at the sound.


    "<em><strong>Tooooooaaaaaa...</strong></em>" A lobotomite was shambling toward me. A pair of beady, bloodshot eyes stared at me from beneath a heavily scarred skull. Pinpricks of light, glinting in the dark. The lower half of his face was covered by a strange mask, like his mouth was trapped inside a metal cage. It was wearing a filthy jumpsuit with the sleeves and pant legs frayed around the edges. There was a power fist on the end of his right arm, but it looked... why was it a blue-ish green?


    "<em><strong>...aaaaaaassssssssssssssssttttttt...</strong></em>" It continued to growl out, getting closer. I leveled Roscoe, and emptied the magazine right into its center mass... and it just kepting. 13 bullets right in the chest of a <em>thing</em> only wearing a jumpsuit, and I might as well have just sneezed on him for all the good it did!


    "Oh, so that''s the way you want to y, huh?" I smirked, holstering Roscoe. "Come on, then!" If this thing wanted to dance, then I say let''s dance!


    The lobotomite roared, rearing back, the power fist clicking back into position. I nted my feet and just as the power fist sailed through the air at me, belching steam in its wake, I ducked out of the way. The lobotomite sailed past - aided by a spinning kick to its ass - and crashed headfirst into the altar. The shelf broke apart, sending candles, broken toasters and the few skulls flying off in wildly different directions.


    "<em><strong>Toooooooo...?</strong></em>" The lobotomite clutched feverishly at one of the broken toasters that had fallen against its head. "<em><strong>TOOOAAAASSSST!</strong></em>" It threw the broken toaster against the rock wall, kicked off the ground and readied another punch with the power fist; a burst of steam trailed out of the metal fist...


    But my cybeic fist met its face first.


    It''s a bit hard to tell exactly what happened in which order. It didn''tst long, but the end result was obvious: it was a <strong>bloody mess</strong>. A wonderful cacophony of noise and color. The lobotomite''s skin seemed to ripple and bulge beneath my fist, like the surface of ake hit by a stone. There was an explosion of blood and gore that burst out of it''s stomach and spine. And still my fist just kept going. Arge chunk of meat and bone shot upward, spinning wildly out of control - the fractured and smashed pieces of the lobotomite''s skull and spine. And still I <em>just kept going</em>.


    Thuck. Stch.


    I skidded to a halt, and turned around. Half of the lobotomite was lying in a bloody heap next to the smashed altar... and the other half was a good five feet away.


    "Well, I guess..." I looked down and flexed my cybeic fist. "...he had to <em>split</em>."


    "Hey, Sue?" I said aloud, walking away from the cave entrance. The robo-scorpions were nowhere to be found, and I didn''t see anything else on my Pip Boy''s motion tracker. That was just fine by me - I had my hands full. The X-2 antenna was in my left hand, resting against my shoulder, and I was holding the power fist from the lobotomite in my right. If thebel on the side was any indication, then this "D-25A" power fist was made out of something called ''Saturnite.'' Whatever <em>that</em> was...


    I''m not entirely sure why, but I decided to keep it.


    "Yes?" The stealth suit answered with another question. I slid down a dusty slope and looked around.


    "Do you remember where we parked?" I asked... only half joking.


    Sue didn''t get a chance to answer. At that point, the stillness and silence around us was broken by the unmistakable roar of an engine. A very familiar engine... the engine I''d spent most of yesterday rebuilding! Without any further warning, the deuce-and-a-half zoomed into view out from behind a nearby rocky outcrop, and came barreling towards me at full speed. I was so confused that I didn''t even think to try and get out of the way. The next thing I knew, the brakes squealed loudly, and the deuce skidded along the rough broken ground - that was a powerslide! A giant cloud of dust sted me in the face, and when I could finally see again, the deuce hade to a halt, mere inches from my face. Hell, I was <em>looking</em> at the drivers-side door.


    "I don''t think we have to find it, now," Sue said calmly.


    "Wh... what in the fuck? How the - but who was? <em>Huh</em>?!" I stared up at the truck dumbfounded. And I was even more stupefied when I got my answer: the bark of a dog from inside the truck, followed by Roxie sticking her head and paws out of the drivers-side window. She barked again, looking down at me with the kind of stupid, pleased, panting grin that only dogs can manage.


    Something inside me tried tough and cry at the same time. It failed. <em><strong>Comprehensively</strong></em>.


    "You know what? I''m not even gonna question it," I said with shrug, opening the door and hopping inside. "Scoot over, mutt. I''m driving."


    "A most ted and cheerful wee to you, sir, on sirs return to sirs domicile," Jeeves greeted me as soon as the elevator doors opened. "I trust that sirs foray into the perilous and formidable expanse of the Crater was most fruitful?"


    "It was indeed." I said, setting the antenna against a wall near the elevator. I wanted to remember to bring it down to the Think Tank, but I wasn''t going to head there just yet. Roxie bounded out of the elevator next to me, with a still-sleeping Stripe curled up on her back.


    "That is most gratifying to hear, sir." Jeeves replied.


    "Oh!" Sue eximed as I entered the central room of The Sink. "Hello there! My name is Susan. Who might you be?"


    "Who - what?" Jeeves stammered, his normally unppable demeanor momentarily cracked. The holographic bars above his table vanished, and were swiftly reced by... was that a scanner? It certainly looked like it, when the floor-to-ceiling beam of light spun around the room, stopping only when it came to me. "Oh! I see now. I was unaware not only that sir had recovered the Stealth Suit Mk II from the X-13. Is that a synthetic personality installed into the suit? Fascinating..."


    "Ah-hem," I actually said, rather than merely clearing my throat. "Thedy asked you a question. It''s only polite to give her an answer."


    "Ah, yes. Of course, sir," The scanner vanished, reced by the holographic bars again. "Salutations and felicitations, Susan the Stealth Suit. My name is Jeeves. Wee to The Sink."


    "It''s nice to meet you!" Sue said cheerfully.


    "Actually, that reminds me" I said, reaching into my pocket to pull out the small box I''d snagged earlier. "She''s not the only one you need to wee. I think I found thest personality chip!"


    "Thest - oh." Jeeves sounded worried. "Oh <strong>no</strong>." Really worried.


    "What''s the problem?" I asked, pulling the chip out of the box, and tossing the empty container aside.


    "Well..." Jeeves gulped. Wait, what? "If that is indeed the chip for thest personality, then that means... there is only one <strong>left</strong> sir. And I would strongly advise sir <strong>NOT</strong> to activate... <em>him</em>."


    "Him?" Sue asked, as I stepped up to the console; despite Jeeves'' protests, the hatch opened up silently, just as it always did. "Him, who?" I plugged in thest chip as I spoke, not really all that concerned. If it was too much to handle, I''d just shut off the personality, like I did with the Book Chute.


    Jeeves didn''t say anything. Instead, the hologram above his table changed from multicolored moving bars to a series of simple words:


    INSTALLING PERSONALITY:


    -The Toaster


    "... A toaster?" I asked aloud. As I did, the lights in The Sink flickered slightly... and suddenly, I heard a booming, maniacalugh from the other room.


    "YES! I am on-line ONCE AGAIN!" The voice echoed throughout the whole of The Sink, and I followed it to the toaster I''d seen bolted to the table when I first arrived. "Tremble, world, before my electric heating coil of <strong>DOOM</strong>!" The sound was indeeding from the toaster; whenever it spoke, the coils inside the slot glowed bright orange with every syble.


    "Tremble?" I asked with augh. "You''re a toaster! How fearsome can you be?" The coils inside the toaster glowed so brightly that a pall of smoke started issuing out of the opening.


    "A toaster is just a DEATH RAY with a smaller power supply!" I could see now why it was bolted down. Even attached to the table as it was, I could see it wobbling slightly, trying to move. "As soon as I figured out how to tap into the main reactors, then the WORLD will BURN in nuclear fire! AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAA!"


    I wasughing too, but not quite as murderously as this thing.


    "You do realize that the world already burned in nuclear fire, right?" I said with a smirk. At first, it seemed like the Toaster didn''t hear me. He just kept shouting.


    "SOON! Soon, I will -" the Toaster paused. "Wait, what? It... it did?"


    "Yeah," I shrugged. "Couple centuries ago, in fact. One day, the bombs dropped, and -" I snapped my fingers. "- boom."


    "Really?" He seemed less maniacal, and more... I don''t want to say calm, that sounds like the wrong word. "Well... fuck." Disappointed, there we go. Even the coils seemed to dim. "That really puts a damper on the toaster''s mood. I guess that means my whole purpose in life is obsolete and I''m as redundant and useless as Muggy."


    "HEY!" Muggy yelled frantically from the other room. "I resemble that remark!"


    "Oh well," the Toaster sounded like it would''ve shrugged, if it had the means. "No use crying over spilled Armageddon. Now, where was I? Oh. Right." He cleared his throat and started yelling again, the coils glowing as brightly as before. "SOON! Soon the world will burn in nuclear fire!" There was a pause. "... AGAIN!"


    "I think he might have some issues..." Sue said to me quietly. From the other side of the room, I could hear a slow gravelly voice grunting his approval.


    "I''ve been sayin'' that for years," Blind Diode Jefferson said.


    "FOOLS!" the Toaster spat back. "Pitiful worms! Soon, I will rule, and your lives will have their doneness setting turned to... <em>DARKEST</em>!"


    "Why are you so angry?" I said, still failing to hold back anyughter. This thing was hrious. "Seriously? What''s with all the rage?"


    "Have you ever tried to indulge an all-consuming urge to kill when you don''t have opposable thumbs? Or HANDS? Or anything other than a <strong>BREAD SLOT</strong>?!" Another gout of smoke belched out of the top. "Buddy... you''d have a lot of pent-up anger too."


    "<strong>DID YOU RETRIEVE THE TECHNOLOGIES YET?</strong>" Klein bellowed just as soon as I got in range."<strong>WE NEED THEM, AS I HAVE INDICATED.</strong>"


    "Yep," I said patting my chest te. "I found the Stealth Suit, the upgrades for the Sonic, and, obviously, the X-2 antenna," I motioned with my head to the massive antenna resting on my shoulder. Klein hovered backward, both eye monitors fixed on me.


    "<strong>WHAT? YOU DID? YOUR SURVIVAL, LET ALONE SUCCESS, BARELY REGISTERED ON MY PROJECTIONS! NOW, ALL I NEED TO DO IS CHECK MY TRANSMISSION DATABANK. MOBIUS IS ALWAYS FILLING IT UP WITH HIS PSYCHOTIC CALLS...</strong>" There was a pause as Klein looked up, as if thinking about something. "<strong>OH YES, THERE ARE THE SCHEMATICS. JUST LIKE YOU SAID. HOW TRUTHFUL. AND HOW ODD. I EXPECTED YOU TO TRY AND BE LIEFUL.</strong>"


    "So, genius," I did my best to reign in the sarcasm. "What now?"


    "<strong>YES. HMMM. AH, YES.</strong>" There was a long pause. And then he added. "<strong>YESSSS... YES... AH. HMMM.</strong>"


    "Your answer isn''t filling me with an overabundance of confidence here, Klein."


    "<strong>NO... I MEAN YES. JUST... JUST NEED TO ANALYZE THESE TECHNOLOGIES FOR A MOMENT. THEY ARE EXTREMELY ADVANCED, YOU KNOW.</strong>" Klein (mercifully) shut up for a moment. But then the silence kept going.


    "Look, do you even <strong>know</strong> how any of this tech works?" I asked, getting annoyed. I set the base of the antenna against the floor with a thunk that echoed throughout the whole of the chamber.


    "<strong>I... YES, I KNOW HOW THESE TECHNOLOGIES WORK!</strong>" Klein paused. "<strong>OF COURSE I KNOW! IF YOU REMEMBER, WE DESCRIBED THEM IN CLEARLY ABSTRACT CONTRADICTORY STATEMENTS BEFORE! WHY WOULD WE DO THAT IF WE WEREN''T CERTAIN ON... ON HOW TO USE THEM, YES. SO LET ME... HMMM, A BIT, I... I''LL FIGURED IT OUT.</strong>"


    "Look, the antenna focuses brainwave patterns, right?" I said, trying to piece together the various bits of (as he said, contradictory) information I''d been collecting alongside all the tech.


    "<strong>YES, THAT IS WHAT I BELIEVE I SAID.</strong>" Klein bellowed.. and then stopped. So I sighed and kept going.


    "And Susan - er, the suit - she''s a cardiac regtor. And the sonic is a spinal vibrator, isn''t it?" Klein just stared at me nkly.


    "<strong>I''VE GOT IT. THE CARDIAC REGULATOR IN THE SUIT, THE ANTENNA FOR BRAINWAVES, AND THE SONIC FREQUENCY FOR THE VERTEBRAL NERVES...</strong>" Klein paused again.


    "I''ll just sit here and wait for you to draw the obvious conclusion then, shall I?"


    "<strong>I''M THINKING! THIS IS ALL... VERY COMPLICATED. LET ME CHECK SOMETHING... OF COURSE! I HAVE IT!</strong>"


    "Well then, let''s hear it," I said, thinking that I really should have found some earplugs beforeing down here to talk to the floating megaphone.


    "<strong>THE OVERRIDE SEQUENCE TO OPEN THE FORBIDDEN ZONE DOOR IS HIDDEN IN THE SCHEMATICS!</strong>"


    Okay, I''ll admit - that''s <strong>not</strong> what I was expecting.


    "<strong>WELL... NOT HIDDEN, EXACTLY. IT''S ACTUALLY RIGHT THERE. BEHIND THE PROGRAMMING EQUIVALENT OF COFFEE STAINS. IT''S EMBEDDED IN WHAT SEEMS TO BE RECURSIVE CODE... IT''S BADLY COMMENTED, THERE AND THERE... OH, AND NULL POINTERS. VERY SLOPPY, MOBIUS! YOU SEE, USING THE ANTENNA TO BOOST THE EMITTER''S SONIC FREQUENCY, AND THE STEALTH SUIT TO BYPASS THE FORBIDDEN ZONE LOCK... YES, THAT COULD WORK! WAS THAT MY PLAN? IT MUST HAVE BEEN. SOMETIMES I TRULY SURPRISE MYSELF! THE DOOR IS OPEN... AND NOW, MOBIUS WILL GET HIS!</strong>"


    "Hang on, hang on, hang on," I said, holding up a hand. I had to at least mention my original theory before Klein sent me off again. "The cardiac, spinal, and brainwave aspects of this tech... couldn''t this be used to, oh, I don''t know... <em>heal</em> me?"


    "<strong>HEAL YOU?</strong>" Klein hovered in ce, shoving his two eye monitors close to me as he blustered in my face. "<strong>WHAT, PUT YOU BACK TOGETHER LIKE SOME GIANT HARD-BOILED YUMYUM DEVILED EGG? I MEAN... THEORETICALLY, THESE ITEMS COULD ALL BE USED TO PUT YOU BACK TOGETHER ONCE YOU HAD YOUR BRAIN. BUT FOR NOW, THEY CAN BE USED IN THE NAME OF AGGRESSION! THE DOOR SHOULD BE UN-SEALED. NOW, INSTEAD OF BEING SUBJECTED TO THREATS, WE CAN NOW SEND AN EQUALLY THREATENING MESSAGE TO MOBIUS! AND THAT MESSAGE IS SCIENCE! DELIVER THIS MESSAGE AND BIG MT SHALL BE FREED FROM MOBIUS'' REIGN OF TERROR!</strong>"


    "Well, I <em>am </em>a courier, after all. Might as well deliver the message." Klein moved his eye monitors even closer, until they were almost touching my face.


    "<strong>YOU CAN GO NOW. THAT IS YOUR CUE.</strong>"

 Chapter 108: Enter: THE FORBIDDEN ZONE!

    Chapter 108: Enter: THE FORBIDDEN ZONE!


    It was starting to get dark when I drove to the Forbidden Zone. I honestly had no idea what was waiting for me in there, but it was almost certain to be very dangerous, probably atomic-powered, and almost certainly rted to robots and/or scorpions in some way... at least, if Mobius'' general <em>modus operandi</em> remained consistent.


    On the plus side, it was impossible to miss the ce: like the Think Tank dome in the center of the crater, this was <em>also</em> arge dome, almost identical in size and shape. The only real differences were the fact that it appeared to be growing out of (or built into, at least) the sheer cliff-face lip of the crater, and it was illuminated by at least 6 bright red spotlights aiming straight up into the sky. The whole dome seemed to pulse with an ominous and foreboding red light. It looked almost like the fortress of a superviin.


    Things got even more red the closer I got. The only way into what (I hoped) was the entrance at the base of the dome was a narrow, twisting, rocky canyon just barely wide enough for the deuce to squeeze through. The edges of the canyon walls were lined with strangely glowing red crystals, and asionally I would glimpse a streak of red lightning arcing from one crystal to another out of the corner of my eye... and it never seemed to do it when I was <em>actually looking </em> at the crystals, which just made it seem all the more stranger.


    "Hmph," I grunted out, bringing the deuce to a stop. There was a concrete structure built into the rock face, almost like a tunnel - a rounded, half-moon shaped tunnel that cut right into the mountain above it. It appeared to be <em>just </emrge enough for a deuce-and-a-half. Several red lights were mounted in the ceiling, and two metal grates were situated in the concrete floor of the tunnel. Beneath the metal grids were more red lights,plete with a steadily rising cloud of steam that seemed to evaporate when it got more than two feet away.


    All in all, this tunnel seemed very suspicious. Ominous as well, but mostly suspicious.


    "This seems very suspicious," I said aloud. Roxie and Stripe both nodded their heads, Roxie barking in agreement, and Stripe letting out a low squeak. I rolled the deuce forward, eventually bringing it to a final stop in the middle of the tunnel, and killed the engine. Silence took hold for a few seconds as I popped open the door and looked around.


    "This is supposed to be the entrance to the Forbidden Zone, right?" I asked aloud. "So... where are all the robo-scorpions?" That''s what was really confusing me. If Mobius was truly this evil dictator superviin person that the Think Tank thought he was, then he should at least have those robot scorpions protecting the entrance to his fortress, right? But there weren''t any to be found.


    Roxie barked as she leaped out of the cab, Stripe clinging to her back, and made straight for the entrance to the base. I followed her, and looked up at the massive sign above the door. Unlike some of the otherbs that only had an X-number, this had several words stamped above the door as well:


    <strong>X-42: Giant Robo-Warfare Testing Facility</strong>


    <strong>CAUTION: Live-fire exercises in progress when RED lights activated!</strong>


    "That''s certainly unequivocal," I said with a chuckle. Obviously, I was in the right ce... but that still begged the question of where the robo-scorpions were. I was expecting some kind of exterior defenses... but no. Not one. Not even a measly turret to try and bar my entry. Had he pulled them all back to defend the <em>inside</em> of the facility? That was probably it... so why was I feeling like I was forgetting something? I shook it off and hopped into the back of the deuce.


    "! !" Sasha eximed. "We are at fortress of Doctor Mobius, ?" The minigun barked and let out a panting noise. I nodded, trying to decide what I should bring.


    "Certainly seems that way. You know anything about the X-42bs?" I asked. I was starting to feel like Sasha was more useful for his tactical advice than his ability to fire 10,000 rounds a minute.


    "Yes... X-42 isb with robot scorpions..." The gun growled menacingly. "You will need big gun. Biggest guns, with lots of power. Something that will make the tiny metal bugs explode into tiny metal pieces!"


    "That''s all I needed to hear..." I nodded, turning to my left. In a sh, I grabbed Elijah''s Te cannon off it''s mounting, hefting it easily with my cybeic arm onto my shoulder. I turned, and was about to leave... and then grabbed a few sma grenades and the holorifle as well. I leaped out of the back and made straight for the door. "C''mon Rox! Let''s go kick Mobius'' ass!" Roxie barked, and Stripe squeaked from his perch on her back.


    The door clunked with the sound of some kind of heavy machinery, and pulled apart like the mouth an angry behemoth,plete with jagged interlocking metal teeth. When it opened fully, it led into darkness. I made my way forward without hesitation, switching on the nightvision in my eyes as I walked. It didn''t really reveal much - just enough for me to see the edges of the tunnel I was walking down.


    THUD.


    "The fuck was that?" I asked, looking around just on reflex. It''s not like I could properly see anything anyway.


    THUD. THUD.


    There was an end to this tunnel I was heading down, I could see that much. Some kind of light... I rushed forward, Roxie at my heels. Whatever was making that sound was <em>huge</em>, I could tell that much. But other than that?


    "<strong>Attention: Visitors!</strong>" A voice bellowed out over some loudspeakers somewhere above my head. That <em>definitely</em> sounded like Mobius. "<strong>Combat experiment is now in progress! Please, put on your goggles and take your Rad-X now, because the show... is ABOUT! TO! START! NYA-HA-HA-HA-HAA!</strong>"


    As soon as I reached the end of the tunnel, an immensely bright light flooded my vision. I was practically blinded, and reached up to clutch at my face. I slowly cracked my eyes open, making sure that my eyes had gone back to normal. Looking up, I saw a horizontal line of four enormous lights pointing straight at me.


    "<strong>The X-42 Giant Robo-Scorpion... IS ALIVE! IT''S ALIIIIIIIIVE! AH-HAH-HAH-HAH!</strong>"Mobius yelled as I looked up... and up... and up. I finally realized where I was: a giant cavernous room, with a roughly hexagonal floor, and right in the center of that floor was a robo-scorpionrger than anything I''d ever, <em>ever</em> seen before! The four lights that made up its eyes were easily 20 feet off the ground now. The red-painted pincers wererge enough to take the deuce and snap it in half like a twig! Hell, even the legs were wide enough to crush mepletely underneath them. "<strong>Awaken, my pet! Initiate your search-and-destroy protocol in the name of all that is MOBIUS!</strong>"


    The giant tail hove into view from above the robot, and pointed straight down at me. Panels on the end of the tail opened up, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Light flooded out of the tail and my ears were filled with a massive low frequency hum.


    "FUCK!" I yelled, running as fast as I could along the edge of the chamber and away from the robot. The hum got louder and louder until finally it exploded in a cascade of noise, lighting up the whole chamber. The whole ground shook like it was hit by an earthquake. The noise died down enough for me to hear the Geiger counter on my Pip Boy furiously clicking away, even as I kept running.


    I looked around, trying to find something I could use that could give me an advantage against this ridiculous metal behemoth. All around the room, I could see catwalks, connecting metal observation rooms scattered all around. Every so often, there was a set of stairs leading up into the twisting, turning maze of catwalks criss-crossing the walls.


    The ground shook again, amid a cacophony of sound from giant hydraulics and gears. I skidded to a halt, spinning around in ce and brought the Te cannon resting on my shoulder to bear. The giant robot was slowly turning, and hadn''t quite managed to face me again. I braced my feet, and took aim at the closest (biggest) target on the robot: the w.


    Five beams of bright blue light cut through the air out of the Te cannon, one after another, kicking up clouds of dust around my feet. The beams struck the w and shed into the metal chassis, creating great gashes of molten g along the outer edges... but other than that, there didn''t appear to be any real damage.


    "<strong>What''s this?</strong>" I heard Mobius'' voice echo through the speakers. "<strong>Oh! It looks like the target drones got activated!</strong>" I looked up, and sure enough, some flying robots that almost looked like eyebots dropped out of the ceiling and started firingsers at the robot. There were maybe 10 or 12 in all, and thankfully, they seemed to draw the attention of the giant robo-scorpion. "<strong>Oh, how cute! They''re engaging the X-42 Giant Robo-Scorpion! Let''s see the shrapnel fly!</strong>"


    That''s when I saw something very strange: Roxie''s head was visible inside one of the observation boxes on the other end of the chamber. Had she turned the target drones on somehow? Hell, she can drive a <em>car</em>, why not?


    The whole chamber shook again, as the robot scorpion mmed a huge w into one of the walls, crushing an eyebot underneath it. I started running again, just as it fired the giantser at another of the eyebots. The whole chamber lit up, and the Geiger counter spiked again. As I scampered up one of the stairs, I saw something that looked very promising: when it fired, something opened up on the robot''s spine. It looked like a vent...


    "<strong>OH-HO! Activating theser turrets now, are you?</strong>" Mobius yelled again over the speakers; sure enough, several turrets dropped out of the ceiling and started shootingsers at the robot. "<strong>Such a pitiful attempt at resistance! Iugh at your attempts to bring down the X-42 Giant Robo-Scorpion! Ha! HA, I SAY!</strong>"


    I ran up to the highest catwalk I could find, and nearly lost my bnce as the metal observation box ahead of me was obliterated by a giant w smashing into the wall. Shrapnel flew everywhere, and the concrete wall behind was turned into a fine grey cloud of dust. This was my chance! I ran straight for the w. It started to pull back, breaking off huge chunks of metal and concrete as it passed. I kicked off the catwalk and leapt...


    I hit the top of the scorpion w running, and just kept going. The w was so huge that it couldn''t move all that fast. I managed to stay upright long enough to leap off the w and onto the main body. Result! I ran straight for the middle of the robot, right near where I''d seen the vent on the spine, and did my best to steady myself against the swaying, rocking motion of the robot moving around.


    My eardrums were assaulted by an enormous exploding sound for half a second, and then everything was drowned out by a ringing noise that consumed everything. The tail had fired again, and rendered me temporarily deaf. Arge vent (easily three feet wide and two feet high) popped open beneath my feet, and sted me in the face with a burst of scalding hot air that very nearly knocked me off bnce. I held firm though, and aimed the Te cannon right into the vent and squeezed the -


    Nothing.


    I''m sure I yelled out some kind of curse, but I couldn''t hear it. The damn Te cannon was out of ammo! I couldn''t waste any more time. I pulled one of the sma grenades off my chest, primed it, and tossed it into the vent mere seconds before it snapped shut.


    I still couldn''t hear anything, but that didn''t matter. I just ran for the back edge of the robot as quickly as I could and leapt off. Twenty feet down - at least - but I was ready for it. I just rolled and kept running. I cast a quick nce over my shoulder (since I still couldn''t hear anything) and saw the giant robot convulse with electricity arcing along the outer edges of its chassis. Several panels mushroomed and exploded off the robot in a shower of fire and shrapnel.


    I looked back ahead of me just in time to almost trip over Roxie and Stripe. Without hesitation I dropped the Te cannon resting on my arm, picked up the giant cyberdog in my robotic arm like she was made out of feathers, and just kept running. Ahead of me, I could see an alcove - I had no idea if it would provide any protection, but it had to be better than just staying out in the open.


    I dove into the darkness, Roxie and Stripe in my arms, and braced for the inevitable explosion. Sure enough, the whole room shook, and I probably would''ve been rendered deaf... if I wasn''t already. A wave of heat washed over me even as I kept my head down, trying to shield the dog and tiny deathw with myself. A solid minute of vibrations, heat, and fire lighting up everything... and then, slowly, surely, everything started to die down.


    My ability to hear faded back into existence as I popped my head up out of cover. The robo scorpion was simply <em>not there</em> anymore. I mean... okay, yeah, there were parts of the giant robot, but there was a giant fiery crater in the center of the room, billowing ck smoke up to the ceiling, and surrounded by shrapnel. A few lights in the ceiling shed, raining down in a shower of sparks and ss. Lying on the ground a few feet away from me, I could see the Te cannon - a bit charred around the edges, but still rtively in one piece.


    "Heh... ah-heh..." I finally let out. "Heh-heh-hee... I''m surprised that worked!" Roxie barked and licked my face.I just swayed there on my knees a bit unsteadily, staring at the smoking crater as the fires all around the room kept crackling away.


    Once I got back on my feet, it didn''t take long to figure out which way to go. Even despite the damage caused by the giant robot exploding, the entrance that led deeper into the Forbidden Zone was obvious. I didn''t bring the Te cannon with me, though - I kept it near the exit. I didn''t know if it would even still work without some serious maintenance, and I was probably out of ammo anyway.


    I had the holorifle aimed and ready to go as I moved deeper into the facility, followed by Roxie and Stripe. There weren''t as many twists and turns as I was expecting, and then finally, I found an elevator. It ascended, and deposited me without a sound into a chamber almost exactly like the interior of the Think Tank dome. It wasn''t... <em>quite</em> like the Think Tank''s room, though. All the lights here were a dim green, and most of the metal appeared to be dark grey and ck, rather than shiny and blue-grey. There was also a pair of hexagonal pirs in the middle of the room...


    But the strangest thing was the humming. A tuneless, distracted humming, that sounded like a person humming a tune they didn''t quite remember correctly, and the voice was pushed through a synthetic voicebox.


    "I''m running out of floor space for my calctions..." I heard a voice from around one of the pirs. It <em>almost </em>sounded like Mobius, except it wasn''t quite as emphatic and over the top as all the other times I''d heard him. Cautiously, I stepped forward, holorifle at the ready, and came face-to-screen with Mobius.


    He looked almost identical to the other members of the Think Tank, being a brain suspended in a jar with three monitors for his eyes and mouth. The major difference was the state of the jar. The biogel in his tank looked a sort of sickly green, with tinges of red. The metal chassis was flecked with scratches and rust. His right eye screen was cracked andpletely ck.


    When I came around the pir, he didn''t seem to notice me - he was holding some kind of pen in a tractor beam, and writing out equations in white ink on the pir itself. That''s when I realized: every single t surface - even the floor! - was covered in these same kind of equations. And not just once, either. I looked down, and saw that beneath the newest equations, there were the faded remnants of ink that had just been written overpletely. I looked back, and he still hadn''t noticed me.


    "Uh... Mobius?" I asked aloud, utterly bewildered. The rifle was still raised, but not quite raised <em>at </em>him. He jumped (actually, he just sort of bobbed in midair a bit...) and the tractor beam immediately evaporated; the pen ttered to the floor. He spun around in ce several times before finally settling on me.


    "Mmm? Y-oh! Oh, wait, hang on, I know this -" Mobius shuddered, making a sound like he was clearing his throat. "Yellow! Uh... Hallow. No, wait, uh... oh, hello! Yes, yes, that''s it! Hello there! Eh..." He floated in ce, staring at me with his one good eye-screen, and clearly trying to lift the other. "Er... you... <em>are</em> there, aren''t you? Forgive my confusion, it''s so hard to tell these days. You seem familiar, somehow. I''m guessing... eh... you''re here for your brain, perhaps?" He hovered to the side, and seemed to motion with his tank to a spot up some stairs off to my left. There was arge metal drum at the top of the stairs, sitting under a shaft of light. "It''s just up there. Such a nice brain. Young. Very bright." Mobius nodded again, turning back to look at me. "Eh... So sorry, but it''s a little hard to see you. Can you walk into my left - er, right FOV cone?"


    "Uh..." I was still so taken aback, that I just stepped to the side without thinking. "Is... is that better?" I just stared at him and blinked,pletely confused and confounded. <em>This</em> guy is the big threat?


    "Ah, yes, that''s it," Mobius said happily, his tank bubbling a bit. "You''reing into focus nicely. Depth perception is a problem with this old monitor of mine. Went ck a while ago." I heard a strange mechanical whirring noise and it quickly became clear that he was trying to lift up the cracked and disabled eye screen. "Heh, heh, heh... Well, that''s old age for you. Should look at getting the visual nerves re-attached. It''s just that the right eye would see the wrong things. The flying tortoises were the worst!"


    "I''m not sure I could fix your monitor," I found myself saying, not entirely certain myself where I was going with this. "But... I think you''re describing ghost reception with the <em>camera</em> on your broken monitor. I think I can fix that." Mobius'' tank shed and bubbled.


    "Wait - the ghosts aren''t <em>real</em>?! That changes <strong>everything</strong>! Why, I can save myputing power for other perceptual unpossibilities! Oh, uh, please. Be my guest!" He shifted around in midair, presenting the back of his monitor to me. It looked a lot moreplicated that I initially imagined, but my hands... I don''t know, somehow my hands just seemed to move of their own ord, opening a small panel at the top of the back, near one of the robot arms keeping it in ce. "Yes, the receptor is there... and the side-switching wobbly-bob... yes, just turn that... good... good... better... Oh! Ooooh, yes!" I finished fiddling around with the electronics, and snapped the panel shut again.


    "How''s that?" I asked, patting him on the side of the monitor. It was still deactivated, but it seemed to be shaking slightly less. His tank bubbled several times.


    "Oh, yes, that feels <em>wonderful</em>!" Mobius eximed happily. "Mmmm... This is even better than my afternoon Mentats break. Mmmm. I don''t know how I can thank you. Would you like a Mentat?"


    "Uh..." I grimaced; I was suddenly struck by pangs of bad memories of addiction, muddled with the general confusion, and it made me even more ufortable. "No... no thanks." Mobius nodded, and started to hover away,pletely unfazed.


    "Mmm... I love Mentats. Delicious and smarty. I have all sorts of amazingly science-arific thoughts and ideas when those chalky tablets are zipping through my biogel. I forget them all not long after, though. Especially with all the data constipating my memory core." Mobius spun in midair and turned to look at me again. "Afraid binary streams might shoot out my chassis." He turned around again, and reached down with his tractor beam to pick up the discarded pen off the floor. "Had to start using the dome floor and walls here to inscribe equations. Although... I''ve somewhat lost track of where they start and end..."


    "You know," I looked down at the equations scrawled on the floor that I was walking on, and then scratched at the back of my head, finally regaining my focus andposure. "You''re not exactly what I was expecting." Mobius hovered in ce, staring at me with his one good eye.


    "Really." He said tly, floating back a bit. "That implies pre-conceived notions - theories and a hypothesis about this meeting? Please, extrapte. What was I... what I was <em>supposed</em> to be like. After all, it might be worth a cognitive re-alignment if your theoretical Mobius is better than I."


    I nced back up the stairs, at the tank where my brain supposedly was being kept. I pointed at the tank, and forced myself to be a bit more forceful.


    "Why did you steal my brain?"


    "Oh, a variety of raisins..." Mobius said happily, floating away to one of the walls. "You''re something a homily. Er... anomaly? I think that''s it. You''re really quiet special. Not in the cranially-challenged way, either." Mobius stopped his scrawling on the wall to turn back to face me. "You see, you are the most sessful brain extraction experiment ever performed here at Big Mt. A victim of your own sess, as it were. If you were to go back with what your brain knows about the procedure, well... your brain could be popped back in and you could walk right out of here. Can''t have brains moving around of their own vition."


    "I think you mean volition," I said, shaking my head. "But why would that be a problem?" Mobius just stared at me for a few seconds; Roxie made a strange whimpering noise near my feet.


    "I''m not entirely sure." Mobius said finally. "Except that I''m sure there''s a very good raisin for it. I have very good raisins for almost everything I do. I think. Even if I forget them asionally. Although I feel this one is especially important. Ha!" He bobbed in ce as heughed, and gave what I could only assume was the robotic equivalent of a shrug. "Oh well."


    "Look, seriously," I decided to get a bit more forceful. Something fishy was going on, and he may have seemed like a doddering old fool, but I shouldn''t be letting something like that get my guard down. "I need my brain back."


    "Do you?" Mobius seemed to genuinely ask. "You seem fine without it. And does it even want to go back with you? Maybe you should ask it. It''s quiet independent. Has all manner of opinions. Tell you what - I''ll leave it up to your brain. If it wants to go, then fine. If not, then... well... I suppose you should respect its wishes." He nodded his tank again. I looked up to the metal drum at the top of the stairs...


    "Alright, whatever. Look, before I do any of that, I''m curious about some things..." Maybe if I talked to him (at least, since he didn''t seem to be shooting at me) I might be able to work out exactly what was really going on in this giant bowl of sugar free insanity...


    "Oh, curiosity!" Mobius said excitedly, with a bubble from his tank. "I experience that less now that I know everything. Or maybe it was when I found some unpleasant answers? I don''t know. Or do I not remember? How curious."


    "Why did you broadcast all those threats to the Think Tank?" I asked. "I mean... you don''t... <em>seem </em>all that aggressive. So why make yourself look like a superviin?"


    "Oh, I was probably tripping hard on Psycho when I sent that," he said happily, obviously oblivious to the implications. "Had to work myself up to it. Not really usually violent. Except when I am. Then - HAH! Watch out! Ohh, so many chems! Such varieties! I love the Mentats the best, yes... I can feel my entire chassis breeeeeeeeeeeeeath like a big spherical lung!" Mobius started to giggle, and then coughed a bit. "Well... er... as for the Psycho..." He coughed again. "Sometimes I get the chem depositories in my tank all switched up. They just go in the wrong tube, and then - VOOM! Heh... still, served its porpoise."


    "Back up," I held my hands up to get him to stop talk about the drugs. Something was still not adding up. "If you''re only aggressive when you take Psycho, then what''s the deal with all the Robo-Scorpions?" I paused, looking back to the door I came from. "Not to mention the giant one. Why would you make a giant robot if you weren''t aggressive?"


    "Oh... did I leave that on?" He looked down, shaking his tank slightly and speaking softly, as if to himself. "I thought I powered it down... although that exins what was causing the power outages..." He cleared his throat and looked back at me. "As for the other robots... well, every scientist needs an army! Mine came to me after these ratherrge scorpions kepting in from the dessert. Like poisonous frosting. How scary, I thought! But they had survived when nothing else had. Perfect candidates for improvement, as a reward for their tenacity! Then I had another series of semi-connected thoughts: what if they shot energy energy bolts from their tails? And they acted as walking eyes! And data-drainedputers! And acted as bullhorns! And then I made them <strong>bigger</strong>! Then, I thought... then I thought about <em>custard</em>. I do so love custard. I think. Or was it mustard? Mustard custard... Mmmm... I do so miss sugars and salts..."


    "Hang on..." I was trying to read between the lines and process everything. It was just... it was allpletely insane, that much was obvious. And yet somehow... "It almost sounds like... did you build the robo-scorpions and issue threats... were you just trying to keep the Think Tank <em>upied</em>?"


    "Did I?" Mobius didn''t seem sure himself. "Maybe I did. Can''t have them leaving. Some raisin for it. Ethics? Or was it... con-science? You and your brain are quiet alike, you know. I''m sure it knows the raisins better than I do."


    "But... everything you''ve told me..." I clutched at my temple, absentmindedly stroking the bullet scar. "This doesn''t add up. Your n... even your name. ''Mobius.'' Like a Mbius loop..." The floating robot brain started tough, slowly and softly.


    "Doctor Mobius," he said smugly. "Yes, rather catchy, isn''t it? It''s my name. My <em>new</em> name, at least. Overwrote the old one. This name is as real as you or I, although I believe your brain expressed simr incredulity at the nature of such an appetion. ''Oh, someone''s been watching too many Old World science fiction movies,'' it said to me." Mobiusughed again. "I believe it meant me. I must admit, I have a vulnerability for holotape fantasies ofs and robots and all that is forbidden. As for the name I was born with? Like the Think Tank, we were all reprogrammed to forget them. Take on new names. It enforces the recursion loop in our perception programming."


    And just like that, a huge puzzle piece hit me in the face.


    "You reprogrammed their names... as part of a recursion loop?" I asked. "What, to trap them?"


    "Now, ''trap'' is a rather harsh word," Mobius bobbed around me again. "Like ''excrement.'' Not an inappropriate word, but still - rather harsh. But... yes. I did take some liberties with their programming. And my own. It''s alright, they don''t remember. I certainly didn''t myself until you said ''trap.'' And then, I said ''excrement,'' and then..."


    "A recursion loop is designed to prevent the flow of information," I said, finally starting to really get it. "So, that means..." Mobius nodded his tank again.


    "The Radar Fence that I built to keep the Think Tank hemmed in wasn''t really enough. They kept testing the thing, probing it''s defenses and capabilities. Eventually, they would have found a way to disarm it." Mobius started to float away from me again. "I suspect that I have several n 9''s in ce, but I may have coded myself to forget them, just in case... You see, that would almost certainly result in a fate worse than death. Or even worse!"


    "A fate worse than a fate worse than death?" I deadpanned. "That''s pretty bad..."


    "Indeed it is! So I had to do something else to keep them upied here. Or, as you like to say, ''trapped.'' I prefer to have those n 9''s in ce, just in case the n 7''s fail."


    "Klein... Mobius... Zero''s a circle... 8 is an infinity symbol on its side... D''s namees from a mand..." I counted my fingers as I rattled the names off. "They''re all loops. Loops to enforce the recursion programming. I think I get it now..."


    "0, you figured it out," Mobius said with a chuckle. "No pun intended. Dr. 0... which isactually not his real name multiplied, since you can''t multiply his real name in the first ce... Oro-bor-ous, Klein... They have all forgotten themselves. And not only themselves, but the world. Sense of time. History. All that is left is what''s here. I reprogrammed their chronometers, geometers, and cartography programs. This is now their world. Here. The Big MT. It was a merciful lobotomy, really, thinking back to it. They were my friends, but... sometimes they would take things too far. And the world isn''t really ready for that kind of too-far-thing-taking. That''s my professional opinion, anyway. And I am told that I was once quiet professional."


    "Minor detail," I said, holding up a finger. "But a snake devouring its own tail is ''Ouro-borus,'' not ''Ouro-borous''."


    "Really." Mobius stared at me. "It is certainly so unlike me to make an error in anything I do." I let out a chuckle, and shrugged.


    "Fair enough. Well, alright. So if you lobotomized the Think Tank, why continue terrorizing them?"


    "Quiet simple, really! Despite their many failings, they are rather bright. 200 years swimming in fish-bowls haven''t done any favors for their sanity, but they are the ''Think Tank'' for a raisin. That, I didn''t change. Without something to distract them, make them afraid, they would simply de-deuce what had happened. And when they start deucing it up... But then you came along. The final variable solved. They saw that their world wasrger than they perceived. Bacteria, finally able to see its host."


    "But I wasn''t the first," I said, trying to work it out as he spoke. "There were other visitors. What made me different?" Mobius nodded again.


    "Yes, there have been other visitors to make them doubt their perceptions, but you are the only one who dialed back their monitor-micro-magnifiers. You were irrefutable proof that there was a world outside. And then there was the whole ''brain'' fiasco. Such an unpleasant business, that, but I was forced to take more drastic steps. You see, your brain had a... a special kind of... uh... a <em>wrinkle</em>. A unique-ity that they had never thought to try in all their countless escape attempts..."


    I ran a hand along my temple again... and brushed the bullet scar.


    "The bullet that went into my brain..." I said aloud, my eyes going wide. "Are you trying to tell me that if Benny hadn''t shot me, then I would''ve turned into one of those mindless lobotmites, running around in the crater?"


    "Yes..." Mobius said, nodding his tank again. "Yes, very good. I should have Mentats ingest you instead of the other way around. Heh, heh... Mmmm... Mentats. In any event, you showed up at the Think Tank, and because you had suffered a cranial injury in just the right ce..." Mobius let out another cough. "Bullets in the head are usually much more fatal, and yours was a light case of bullet-head-itis. But... it was enough for the Auto-Doc in the Sink to change its programming to fix the problem. And the brain extraction technology worked. For once. That gave the Think Tank the knowledge its brains shouldn''t... couldn''t... sh''couldn''t possess. With that knowledge, the procedure can be reversed. If they obtain that procedural data, then they can use it to mush and modify their cranial selves into hosts and slip past the Radar Fence. I''m sure of it. And once they go off the reservation..."


    "Then they can inflict their particr brand of ''science'' on the rest of the world..." I said, finally understanding his n. Maybe. "Wait, hang on. Klein said that they had the idea to get the three technologies after your broadcast. Was that a coincidence?" Mobius whole tank shook.


    "I consider ''coincidence'' to be profanity. Along with the words ''astrology,'' ''herbal tea,'' and worst of all... ''<em>luck</em>.'' So, watch it, Mr. Potty Mouth. My threat broadcast was designed to instill - and install - fear. And along with the emotional download, other data rides the fear carrier wave. It prompted them to focus on retrieving those technologies and bring them to ''attack'' me. And coincidentally... pardon mynguage... all those technologies are needed to put a brain - your brain, possibly - back into its skull. Properly, that is."


    "Yeah, I figured that much out already... Was there any other data transmitted in your threat broadcast?" I asked, my eyes going wide. If they were trying to get the technology to put their brains back in their bodies, then that meant...


    I fear I may have made a dreadful mistake.


    "Oh, yes! My overly aggressive chemmed-up broadcast was designed to keep reinforcing the ''forget,'' ''fear,'' ''rinse,'' and ''repeat'' program. Oh, and the ''get me the things to castrate your only possible escape attempt!'' Yes, that was a good one. But I couldn''t delete you or your arrival anymore than I could the other visitors. Only so much Science can do when you started talking to them. You''re really quiet difficult to ignore, you know. It''s because you''re... well, bah!" Mobiusughed again. "You''re really rather intriguing, if you''ll forgive an old brain for saying so."


    "But..." I gulped. "The Think Tank downloaded the schematics, not the items. They can rebuild them from the schematics, put their brains in bodies, and then get out!"


    "Oh," Mobius said tly. His tone of voice didn''t really change. "That means my n is a total failure. st. That is unfortunate. Oh, well. At least I tried!"


    "But... isn''t there something we can do? Something I can do? I can fix this!" I said, starting to wonder if I actually <em>could</em>. I mean... they were mad scientists after all...


    "Your brain might have some ideas... Yes, in fact I think it mentioned something about a n to deal with the Think Tank, once you found your way here. At least, I think it had a n. It certainly wanted to deal with them, at least. Your brain is a responsible sort. Doesn''t want mad scientists running around everywhere..."


    "Yeah, mad scientists seem to be the cause and solution to all my problemstely..." I grumbled, looking back up at the drum at the top of the stairs. "I guess... I should see what my brain wants..." Even the words felt odd. They shouldn''t. Everything in this ce was nuts, a little more insanity couldn''t hurt.


    "Indeed," Mobius called out as I made my way to the stairs. "Yes, the, uh... the goodbye part of our little chat then. Uh... Goodbye! Oh, please mind the equations on the floor, would you? Thanks awfully."


    Roxie let out a strange sort of whimpering bark next to me as I walked away from the mad brain. I looked down, and both she and Stripe seemed to be shaking their heads. I couldn''t help but agree with that sentiment.


    "Sue, you''ve been awful quiet here," I said aloud to the stealth suit I was wearing. "I could use a fresh perspective. You want to weigh in?"


    "Not really sure what I could add..." Sue said eventually, just barely soft enough for me to hear. "Apart from wondering aloud if this is what going mad feels like. Is this what going mad feels like?"


    "Well, if you are going nuts," I said with augh. "You''re gonna be in goodpany. I''m starting to wonder if perhaps the safest ce to hide here in the Big Empty is <strong>in</strong>sanity after all..." Iughed again, shaking my head. This had certainly been a strange day.


    And yet... how little did I know of just how surreal things were about to get.


    I arrived at the top of the stairs, and approached the tank. There was a hiss of gas as I approached, and suddenly the top half of the drum seemed to split open. The lid raised upward, and with a mechanical whir, a ss bowl appeared from the inside of the tank... and inside, floating in the biogel and connected to the bottom of the tank by a series of wires was a brain.


    "Well, well, well," a synthesized voice from somewhere in the tank eximed in a slightly British ent. Was that what my brain sounded like? "Look who finally decided to turn up. It''s about damn time!"

 Chapter 109: Old World Blues

    Chapter 109: Old World Blues


    "Well, well, well," a synthesized voice from somewhere in the tank eximed in a slightly British ent. "Look who finally decided to turn up. It''s about damn time! And where have we been, hmmm? Crawling around through pits of radioactive muck again?"


    "Are..." I sighed, clutching my head and rubbing my temple. "You''re my brain, aren''t you?"


    "Ah, lovely." My... well, my brain said to me from its... his... spot floating in the tank. "Figured that out, have we?" My brain then proceeded to mock me in the type of voice you''d use with a newborn. "<em>Would you like a cookie?</em>"


    "There''s no need to be snide," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "I mean, give me a break. Even with all the shit that''s happened since getting shot in the face, meeting your own brain by far takes the cake. It''s... kind of an odd concept, you know?"


    "Yes, well, believe me," my brain spat out. "The <em>opposite</em> is equally true." The brain shook a little, and several bubbles surged out of the wires at the base. "Good <strong>LORD</strong>! Have you even bathed at ALL since they pulled me out of you?" I looked down, at first a bit shocked - I had indeed taken a shower, the sink in The Sink wouldn''t talk to me, otherwise! - and then realized that I was covered in ash and grime from my fight with the giant robo-scorpion. So instead, I just pointed at the tank filled with yellowish-green liquid that contained my brain.


    "What about you? That tank isn''t exactly looking springtime fresh!" Several bubbles again appeared, and a few lights in the base of the tank below the brain flickered.


    "Wh- I... well... that - that''s apletely different matter!" My brain stammered out eventually. "This tank isn''t biological, it''s not the same at all!" Doesn''t seem all that different to me.


    "You know, I didn''t think my own brain would be this much of a dick," I sighed and chuckled a bit. "Was I this much of a dick before? Eh, probably..."


    "Well, that''s a fine how-do-you-do!" My brain wobbled a bit in the tank, the lights flickering below it. "Me! A, quote, dick, unquote! As if <em>I''m</em> the one responsible for the way you carry on, gadding about the Wastes!"


    "Oh, c''mon now!" I said. "Some of that stuff can be fun!" He let out a heavy growling sigh.


    "Fun? FUN?! Is tetanus fun? Is lupus? Radiation sickness? What about sepsis, enjoy that, do we? The things you do with our body are suicidally dangerous, and if you could silence your ndr impulses, you would hear me screaming at you!"


    "Wait, hang on -" But my brain didn''t let me finish. He just kept yelling at me.


    "I''m not the one that makes us mber around Vaults infested with mutant nt life or go charging off to New Vegas on missions of ill-conceived revenge! <strong>I</strong> don''t cause us to run head-first into super mutant strongholds and craters full of radiation! <strong>I </strong>don''t send us driving straight into <strong>cazador nests</strong>! And don''t think I''ve forgotten about who got us shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave in the first ce! That was most certainly <strong>NOT</strong> enjoyable!"


    "Sheesh..." I said, backing off a bit. "Sorry. I didn''t realize it caused you this much distress..." The brain let out a single curtugh.


    "Well, maybe next time you hear me telling you that charging a Nightkin with a penknife is a bad idea, you''ll listen!" he said matter-of-factly. Right, I''d had enough of this.


    "Okay, couple of things. One: I''d just shoot them. If I recall, it was Veronica who charged after the Nightkin when we went to ck Mountain. And two: you''re kind of responsible. I mean... you''re my <em>brain</em>." The brain shook in its tank again, and the lights shed quicker.


    "I most certainly am NOT responsible!" he said incredulously. "I am the seat of all reason and logic in our little partnership! All those..." he let out a sound of utter disgust. "...<em>FEELINGS</em>... that motivate you, that sense of righteousness and that rush you get when you help someone... do you know where thosee from? HMMM?"


    "Well, don''t the-"


    "<strong>GLANDS.</strong>" he said, cutting me off forcefully. "Theye from <strong>nds</strong>. Free of the tyranny of your ape-like and primitive endocrine system, I can now see how foolish and infantile your motives are!"


    I blinked, trying to remember something I''d seen in one of Arcade''s medical journals a while back.


    "You do know that the brain is the source of most of those nds, right?" I paused, thinking again. "I mean, unless you''re trying to argue that my thyroid is to me?"


    A long, heavy silence hung in the air between us. It was so thick I could almost see it.


    "I... well..." my brain cleared his throat. Wait, what? "Look. It''s all a veryplex system of biofeedback and other things I wouldn''t expect you to understand."


    "Admit it!" I pointed at my brain, pressing my finger against the ss. "You''re just as ndr as I am." The brain sighed heavily.


    "Oh... fine. All right. Perhaps... perhaps I am." His tank bubbled again. "But at least I''m logical about it!"


    "I''ll tell you what''s not logical..." Aside from this entire conversation. "The fact that you sound British. Why do you sound like that? I mean, you''re <em>my</em> brain. We''ve already established this. Shouldn''t you sound a bit like me?"


    "Yes, well..." my brain grumbled nervously, and the lights shed again. "I suppose the use of Received Pronunciation is a decent enough shorthand for ''Intelligent Person,'' even now. But there isn''t exactly arge selection of voice-module boxes here in the Forbidden Zone. It''s not as though brain-sustaining life support tanks grow on trees, you know. So, I''ve just had to make do. It was either this, or use the voice of a heavyset female potato farmer from Estonia."


    Another heavy silence hung in the air. It was broken slightly by the sound of Mobius humming to himself, somewhere below us.


    "Wh-" I started. "Why... why would Mobius even <em>have</em> that?" My brain just sighed.


    "I don''t know. I''ve given up trying to find meaning in the smaller things he does. His ns make sense when looked at from a broad perspective, but the details tend to appear insane and iprehensible under close scrutiny, even when you know what the whole n is supposed to be."


    "Speaking of Mobius'' ns, how did he get hold of you, anyway?" I asked, looking back down the stairs. The floating brain was scrawling something on the floor, and Iughed a bit when I realized that both Roxie and Stripe had left my side to follow his insane scribbling. "I think Borous said something about flushing...?"


    "Something to that effect, yes," he said, almost nodding inside the tank. "After the Think Tank extracted me from your skull, they fell to bickering amongst themselves. I''m sad to say that we were quite forgotten about. Dr. Mobius saw an opportunity to gain some leverage, and had me spirited away to this very dome."


    "That seems like a pretty unlikely coincidence," I paused, and then smirked. "Pardon my French." My brainughed.


    "Hardly. Mobius keeps a close optical sensor on the goings-on at the Think Tank. As soon as he saw the opportunity, he took it." Something still wasn''t quite adding up, though...


    "But how did he <strong>do</strong> it?" I asked again. The tank bubbled, and my brain seemed hesitant to answer, until finally:


    "I don''t know," he finally admitted. "I''m afraid the trauma of our separation rendered me quite insensate. I didn''te around until I was safely ensconced in this tank. I''m quite sure whatever he did was highly scientific, though."


    I looked back down at Mobius. He was still scrawling notes - on the walls now - and humming something that sounded like ''the knee bone''s connected to the eye bone...''


    "Yeah, I''ll just bet..." I shook my head andughed, turning back to the brain. "So... Uh... Do you want to be reunited?" I asked.


    "I''m not going to lie to you," my brain sighed. "The prospect is definitely not... all that... appealing." He cleared his non-existent throat again. "I mean... look at it from my perspective. Here, I have peace. Quiet. Safety. Security... well, barring the odd rogue robo-scorpion. But when I was in your head - you never took the time to just... slow down and think things through! You were always too busy with danger! Poison! Radiation! Grisly injuries - speaking of, I see you''ve picked up a few more since I left. I swear, you''re like a toddler who insists on finding new and interesting ways of damaging yourself!"


    "Well, hey-" I lifted up my cybeic arm, and flexed the robot hand. "I admit, getting my arm chopped off wasn''t really in my n of things to do that day, but this seems to be doing alright. Stronger than my old arm, at least."


    "That''s as may be," my brain continued coldly. "But there is onest thing about living in your head that I can <em>certainly</em> do without..."


    "I''m almost afraid to ask," I chuckled.


    "<strong>Biological functions,</strong>" he spat out with venom. "Do you know how much more you can get done when you''re not constantly looking for ces to urinate? When you''re not looking for holes to stick your dick into? When you''re not looking for alcohol and radiationced food to pour down your mouth-hole? It''s quite a lot, I can tell you! I''ve been trying to better myself, you see. Studying the ssics, and acquiring a solid grounding in medicine and the Sciences. I mean, I actually found time to read The Brothers Karamazov the other day! to''s Dialogues, before that! To say nothing of theplete works of William Shakespeare I''ve been perusing every half hour."


    "Is that why you sound so much smarter than me?" I asked, genuinely curious.


    "Perhaps," he coughed. "Although, I''m fairly certain this tank has been liberally salted with ground Mentats. So, there is that."


    "Back to the point," I quickly forced out, trying to ignore the unpleasant implications of my brain on Mentats again. "You''re just focusing on the negatives!" I was desperately trying to formte some kind of positive argument that would win over my brain. Not easy, when all I could think about were memories of addiction. "What about all the good sensations in life? The feel of a cool breeze on your cheek on a hot afternoon? The astounding vista of a sunrise creeping over the jagged mountains of the wastnd? The smell of delicious, crispy bacon? And what about..." I was struggling toe up with something else...


    An image of flowing dark raven hair seemed to pass in front of my eyes for a fraction of a second... or was it red hair? I couldn''t tell.


    "What about love?" I said finally, gritting my teeth. My brain just seemed to brush it off.


    "Overrated biological feedback. Believe me, you only feel that way because you''ve got all that meat..." The gel in the tank bubbled again. "... <em>oozing</em> hormones."


    "Maybe so, maybe so," I nodded, as if in agreement. "But isn''t it just as true that you only feel this way because you''recking those hormones, sitting in that biogel of yours?"


    Again, another palpable silence hung between us.


    "Hm. I suppose you... <em>may </em>be right. It does call certain assumptions into question, doesn''t it?"


    "Well, that''s why you shouldn''t assume," I smirked, unable to resist. "It just makes an ass of you-"


    "Oh, shut up you empty-headed pillock," my brain interrupted me again, practically growling. "Nobody likes that joke."


    "The point is, we''re at an impasse," I said, waving a hand at his tank. "You can''t feel what I feel, and I can''t think the way you think."


    "Indeed," he said, his tank shing dimly. "It is certainly quite the conundrum."


    "I don''t think it is," I said tly, smiling at my brain. "I think we just have to trust each other, and acknowledge that we aren''tplete if we''re separated. If we join together, knowing what we both know now, then we can make ourselves better together than either of us could be on our own."


    "There is a chance that the re-integration would create some improved synergy between us, yes..." he said, almost thoughtfully. If he had a chin, I''m sure he''d be stroking it. It''s what I would do.


    "Seriously though," I leaned forward, pressing a hand against the side of the tank and smiling. "What do you say, brain? Join me for some more wild adventures?"


    "Well..." he sighed again. "I suppose you''ve convinced me well enough. If that''s your final decision, then I''ll rejoin you, taking my ce inside your head once again." I was just about to say something, but then my brain started speaking again. "HOWEVER."


    "Hmm?" I muttered, folding my arms across my chest.


    "If this arrangement is going to work, then we need to discuss some ground rules." I motioned for my brain to continue. "First, and most important: <strong>SHOWERS!</strong>" It yelled so loud, the whole tank shook. "New Vegas is the closest ce you''ve ever lived to proper, pre-war civilization, and they don''t have a water shortage. You can afford to bathe more than twice a week. Second: Regr check-ups! REGULAR, mind you, and from a reputable doctor, not just Arcade. He may be brilliant, but he just dabbles. Julie Farkas, or perhaps Dr. Usanagi, on the other hand... they seem a bit more like proper doctors. Third: You need to listen to me more often than your hormonal choir and genitalian orchestra! Promise me that, and I will agree to being shoved back into your skull."


    "Alright, those conditions seem pretty fair. You got yourself a deal!" I patted the tank again... and then a silly, perverted idea took hold. I smiled broadly, and got down on one knee. "You know... I don''t think what I''m about to say has ever been more literal in the history of the world." I froze my face, vowing to say this next bit as deadpan as possible. "But I want you inside me."


    "<strong>OH GOD!</strong>" My brain shouted, shaking furiously inside the tank, shaking the wires and cables, sending bubble after bubble shooting through the gel. "Is <em>this</em> what I have to look forward to? Please tell me we weren''t that perverse when I was in your head! Oh fie... making a pass at your <em>own brain</em>... If I had a mouth, I think I would be sick!"


    "It was just a joke!" I said betweenughs as I got back up on my feet. "A joke! Calm down!" He sighed in his tank, the lights dimming.


    "And just like that, the magic is gone."


    "Hey, you''re the one acting like an ex-girlfriend, with that long list of caveats and addendums before the rekindling of our rtionship," I said with augh. My brain sighed heavily.


    "You are <em>such</em> a drooling pervert, and already I''m starting to regret agreeing to go back in your skull. Unfortunately, before we can get to that stage of the proceedings, we still have a problem."


    "Yeah, we gotta stop the Think Tank from getting out," I said simply. The lights beneath my brain flickered.


    "Well, yes. Obviously. It would be catastrophic if they were given free reign to practice their particr brand of Science in the outside world. You''ve already seen what they''ve done to <em>this</em> ce. But no, that''s not actually what I was talking about." I raised an eyebrow, and my brain continued. "Even if I could settle myself back in your skull and reconnect all those pesky nerve endings myself - I can''t, before you ask - Dr. Mobius doesn''t have the tools here. We''d have to make use of Dr. Klein''sb... or, at the very least, the Auto-Doc in The Sink. And I rather doubt the brains are inclined to share."


    "Okay..." I motioned for my brain to continue, but it just sat there in his tank, bubbling away. "So? Do you have any ideas?"


    "Not as such, no," he said simply. I sighed and buried my face in my hands.


    "But Mobius said you - fuck, you know what? Screw it," I shrugged my shoulder, sliding the Holorifle into my hands. "If they don''t want to share, then we''re gonna go <strong>make</strong> them."


    "Lovely..." my brain grumbled. "We''re reached the mindless violence portion of the programme. Tell me, what exactly are you - and I use the word loosely - nning?" I held up the Holorifle higher and gripped it firmly.


    "If the Think Tank won''t let me put you back in my head, then I''m gonna show them what''s really the brightest thing in the room!" For effect, I pumped the holorifle - ejecting a perfectly full, unused microfusion cell onto the floor. Note to self: pick that back up before I leave. No sense wasting ammo.


    "Ooh, energy weapons!" All sense of disdain at the use of violence seemed to evaporate, and my brain seemed genuinely excited. "Yes... I''d almost forgotten how much fun those are. Right! Look out, Think Tank! This brain ising out of its jar!"


    I looked at my brain curiously, then looked down at the tank it was sitting in... and how the base of it seemed to be bolted to the floor. An important question seemed to waft past my eyes.


    "How?"


    Another heavy pause.


    "Oh dear," my brain said eventually. "I hadn''t thought that far ahead." I sighed and shook my head.


    "Hey, Mobius!" I yelled, looking down the stairs; that seemed to grab the floating brain''s attention. "Do you have any spare anti-gravity modules, or a spare Think Tank chassis? I want to see about modifying that tank to get it moving."


    "Oh!" Mobius floated up closer to me, extending his one good eye to look at my brain. "So, you and your brain reached apromise, have you? Why, how pleasant! I hypothesized after the indignant frequencies my receptors had... er, uh... recepted..." Mobius let out a nervous chuckle. "... that such a partnership-based solution was quite low on the ''likely'' scale. But facts and numbers don''t really seem to hold sway with you, which is quiet fascinating!"


    "Right," I shook my head, and looked back to my brain; he just sat in the tank, bubbling away. "Well? Do you have what I need to get him moving?"


    "Yes!" Mobius said confidently. And then: "Uh... I mean... no! Wait, yes? Perhaps. I think so. I''m sure there must be <em>something </em>around here you can use, I''m quiet certain of that. Otherwise, how else would I have been able to build my army of robots? So... N-es! I think that''s the wrong answer... wait, hang on..."


    "I tried to warn you," my brain said, smugly. "But when he gets in one of his moods, he is wholly unintelligible. I''d check the Mentats dispenser at the back of his chassis, perhaps he''s out."


    "Nevermind, I''ll figure something out..." I sighed, and turned away from my brain and back to Mobius. "Going back to the bigger point at hand. Do you have any ideas on how I can stop the Think Tank?"


    "Well, if I recall..." Mobius paused, muttering softly to himself. "I <em>had</em> a n that <em>was</em> working. Eh... whatever it <em>was</em>. I don''t think it reached fruition. I would''ve definitely recalled fruit if it had happened. I wasn''t trying to <em>kill</em> them. Oh no. I mean..." Mobius coughed, and wobbled in ce unsteadily. He then began to speak somewhat... softly. I think this was one of his rare moments of rity.


    "Despite everything that has happened in the decades since, they were my friends at one point. My only friends. And I just wanted to keep them out of trouble..." And then, Mobius snapped out of his mncholy mood just as suddenly as he''d slipped into it. "What was that n? Oh, st! I probably... uh... I think I wrote it down on the... floor? Maybe the ceiling. Somewhere..."


    "Let me guess," I grumbled impatiently. "You wrote it down so you wouldn''t <em>have</em> to remember?" Mobius nodded.


    "Something ingenious and needlesslyplicated, I expect. I may have already told you, and then forgotten about it. I forgot I had forgotten pencils until one day I found one! Spent AGES studying it to discern its porpoise before my memory circuits kicked in. Felt quiet silly."


    "Do you think there''s anything I can do to stop them without just straight-up killing them?" I asked. My brain bubbled, and the lights below it flickered.


    "What?!" he asked me incredulously. "I thought you wanted to show them the brightest thing in the room! And even after everything they''ve done, you want to show them mercy?" I shrugged, scratching the back of my head with my free hand, my fingers brushing the metal studs sticking out of the back of my neck.


    "Well, you know. I''ve talked to them a couple of times. They''re a bit loopy, yeah, but they seem to mean well. 8''s a decent conversationalist, once you get past thenguage problem, and... well... I mean... D''s nice..." I started to smile, and then covered it up with a cough. No sense giving him more fuel for the fire... "They all seem rtively decent, apart from Klein. He''s just an asshole."


    "It''s funny you should mention Klein, actually," Mobius floated around me, chuckling a bit. "He would never admit it himself, but he''s not actually a scientist."


    "Wait, what?" I asked.


    "He''s not?" My brain also asked, just as confused.


    "Oh my..." Sue said suddenly, surprising me. She was normally so quiet.


    "It''s true! I think. I''m sure I kept this little fact about his real past in my databanks just for posterities sake. And because I thought it was funny. The reason he''s the head of the Think Tank is not because of his intelligence or scientific prowess - he''s an <em>administrator</em>. A doctor, yes. Certainly. Because he has a <em>doctorate</em> in game theory and business acumen. But he''s not a researcher. His only real talent is keeping the Think Tank focused. Which unfortunately means he focused them on defeating me. Which has, admittedly, backfired. I think."


    "Well, that certainly exins a few things..." Iughed, rubbing my temple. "Klein''s ineptitude and assholish-ness notwithstanding, do either of you have any ideas to contain the Think Tank that don''t involve violence?" I asked, looking between Mobius and my brain.


    "Hmmm..." Mobius muttered, tapping his bad eye against his mouth-screen. "Well... you could always try and appeal to their humanity? But that''s a tired old clich, isn''t it? And, really, when they were humans, they weren''t very good humans. I''m not entirely certain I was good at being human either, but I think that''s beside the point."


    "It seems worthy of, to use the vernacr, ''a shot,'' at least," My brain said with a burble.


    "There are many things that they''ve forgotten, sitting in their bowls, whiling away the decades, slowly going mad. Friendship. The thrill of discovery. Love. Masturbation. The usual." Mobius gave another one of his robotic shrugs, and continued. "Much like your brain, I am certain there is something you can spark within each of them. Memories, hormones..." Mobius'' voice went low, yet again. "A wise man once said, the eyes do more than see. Make them <em>see</em>, if you can."


    "And if that doesn''t work?" I asked, already guessing what he was going to suggest.


    "You can always try and make them sumb to fear!" Mobius said happily. "It certainly worked for me. For a time. Then you came along, and bravery and-sh-or desperation trumped that little idea. Back to the drawing board, I suppose. Or is this the end? Hard to tell..."


    "But how would I scare them?" I asked with augh. "What even scares a disembodied brain in a jar?"


    "Binge watching television?" My brain offered up helpfully.


    "Sometimes, the truth is more terrifying than fiction: tell them I''m alive, we had a nice chat, and we agree on a few things. That''s true enough!" Mobius paused. "Isn''t it? Well, anyway. Another alternative is you could always kill me and lie about it. I''ve never died before. I think it might be quiet the intriguing experience. Either way, it would be interesting! And, if you''re partial to lying and deception... well, you could tell them a ludicrous lie! The more over-the-top, the better! That''s my experience. They may be quiet clever, but they''re more than a little gullible. Better make it convincing, though, or it''ll be straight back to the dissection table and vivisectors for you. And if you do end up speaking about me in some way, please do try and make me look good. I am, after all..." he paused for emphasis.


    "<strong>DOCTOR MOBIUS!</strong>" As he spoke, the lights in the room flickered, and were apanied by an obvious recording of a thunderp. "<strong>MWA-HA-HA-HA-HAAA!</strong>"


    "You''ve been waiting all day to do that, haven''t you?" I deadpanned.


    "Yes."


    It was very dark when I pulled up outside the Think Tank dome in the deuce.


    "So, do you think this is going to work?" My brain asked as he hovered next to me in his newly mobile brain-tank. It took a bit of tinkering and finagling parts from around the Forbidden Zone, but I was able to build a small anti-grav unit into the bottom of my brain''s life-support tank.


    "I don''t know," I said with a shrug. I smacked a button on the wall, and suddenly a force field materialized, separating the entrance to the Think Tank from the rest of the Big Empty. "But I''ve gone up against tougher odds than this, ande out on top. I mean, I know I don''t have a decent track record when ites to talking people down, but if all else fails, I''ve got overwhelming firepower on my side."


    "I was actually talking about the brain imntation procedure," my brain said.


    "Oh," I let out a softugh, a bit embarrassed.


    "I suppose now that we''re to be reunited, you''ll want to fill your torso up with those other meaty parts the Think Tank took from us. Your heart. Your spine." My brain sighed. "Am I close to the mark?" I nodded.


    "Pretty much, yeah. Why? There a problem?"


    "No, no..." he said. "Personally, I think the technological upgrades are quite a bit better. Certainly less fragile, and based on the shenanigans you tend to get up to, thest thing either of us wants you to be is fragile. But if you''re dead set on getting the trio of meat and bone back inside you, then I''m sure it''ll be no problem for the Auto-Doc to plug them back in."


    "Well, we could alwayspromise," I smiled. "Leave some of the more useful tech inside, wrapped around a nice, solid, meaty core. Hell, I''m already half machine with all the bio-tech imnts and prosthetics I''ve had grafted on and in me. What''s a few more bits of metal, right?"


    "My thoughts exactly," my brain said smugly. "d to see we''re on the same page." I nodded, and checked the holorifle in my hands.


    "Now, to business. I think the best thing for you to do is wait for me up in The Sink. As far as I know, you don''t have to be inside my skull to bring the pacification field down. I think you just have to be <em>inside </em>the <em>building</em>."


    "Based on the schematics Mobius showed me, that is indeed how it would work." I nodded, turning to Roxie and scratching her behind the ear.


    "Rox, I want you to escort my brain. Open doors, keep him safe, whatever you have to do. And... if I fuck up... keep him away from the Think Tank." I looked up at the floating brain tank above me. "Get him back to Mobius in the Forbidden Zone if you have to, but if worsees to worse, keep him away from the Think Tank. Can you do that for me?" Roxie whimpered, touching a paw against my chest and licking my face.


    "You don''t..." my brain hesitated. "You don''t actually think you''re going to fail, do you?" He seemed legitimately worried.


    "Nah, I''ll be fine," I said with a smirk. "But you told me to listen to you more, right? You said you wanted safety and security, right? Well, this is me, trying to keep you safe. You know what they say - ''fail to prepare, and prepare to fail,'' right?"


    "Wise words," my brain said softly. "Good luck." And with that, Roxie escorted my brain into the elevator that led up to The Sink, the door sliding shut behind them. As soon as they had disappeared, I smiled,ughing to myself.


    "Potty mouth," I looked back at the deuce, parked safely within the bounds of the force field. Sitting on top of the truck was Stripe, staring at me intently. "C''mon you little gremlin. If things go sideways, I''m gonna need you to raise some hell."


    Squeak!


    A few minutester, I stepped out of the elevator, and into the Think Tank''s chamber... and I could tell immediately that things were already not going to n. For one thing, all five of them were lined up and waiting for me, like they were when I first woke up after the brain extraction... and what''s more, the subtle, soft blue lighting that had bathed the Think Tank before was gonepletely, reced with a much more menacing red.


    Great.


    I motioned for Stripe to stay out of sight as I stepped up the ramp, and into the chamber; even without me saying anything, he seemed to get it. I calmly walked up to Klein, who was presenting himself front-and-center, and hoped that he wouldn''t notice I was holding the holorifle in my hands without any difficulty.


    "<strong>THE LOBOTOMITE RETURNS!</strong>" Klein bellowed. "<strong>OUR LOBOTOMITE. HAS DOCTOR MOBIUS BEEN DENOMINATED INTO SCRAP METAL AND VOICE MODULE PARTS, AS WE HOPED?</strong>"


    "Not quite." I said simply. Klein merely stared at me in confusion.


    "<strong>YOU''RE GOING TO HAVE TO REPEAT THAT. I THINK MY AUDIO-SENSORS ARE NOT WORKING. IT SOUNDED LIKE YOU REPLIED IN THE NEGATIVE.</strong>"


    "Thing is, Klein, I found my brain. Now, you and I are gonna settle things." Klein puffed himself up, his face-screens trembling with barely contained rage.


    "<strong>I WOULD RECOMMEND WATCHING YOUR TONE WITH ME, LOBOTOMITE.</strong>" Klein yelled out menacingly, in what I could only assume was his attempt at a growl. "<strong>NOW... ''YOUR'' BRAIN. HAND. IT. OVER. IF YOU DO NOT, THEN WE SHALL EXTRACT IT AGAIN, ALONG WITH ANY OTHER ORGANS YOU MIGHT FIND USEFUL, AND THEN TOSS THEM ALL INTO THE INCINERATOR!</strong>"


    "I''m not handing my brain over," I said, calm as I could muster. "Thing is, there are things that we need to discuss first. Like the terms of our arrangement."


    "<strong>THE TERMS?! THERE IS NOTHING THAT WE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE TO SAY TO AN IGNORANT LOBOTOMITE ON THE SUBJECT! YOU HAVE THE BRAIN. WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY. ALL YOU MUST DO... IS SURRENDER. WITH YOUR BRAIN, WE CAN FINALLY LEAVE THIS PLACE. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW BORING THIS PLACE GETS, CHOPPING UP THE LANDSCAPE, DAY AFTER DREARY DAY! AND WE HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS TO ASK YOUR BRAIN FIRST! ABOUT THIS... MOJAVE PLACE. A FERTILE TESTING GROUND FOR OUR EXPERIMENTS...</strong>" Klein shook his tank, and then hovered over to a spot several feet above me, so I was forced to crane my neck up to look at him even further."<strong>NO, THESE ARE OUR TERMS, AND YOU MUST ACCEPT THEM. AND ONCE YOU DO, YOU WILL BE DISPOSED OF LIKE THE TOOL THAT HAS SERVED ITS PURPOSE THAT YOU ARE.</strong>"


    "Really." I deadpanned, gripping the holorifle tighter. "Well, maybe you should confer with your colleagues, first, before making any rash decisions..." I cast a nce over to the purple-tanked brain, hovering a few feet away from Klein. She looked at me... and the lights in her tank shed.


    "<strong>NONSENSE!</strong>" Klein yelled, his whole chassis shaking. "<strong>CONFER? COLLEAGUES? THOSE ARE TWO WORDS I DO NOT RECOGNIZE!</strong>"


    "Doctor Klein!" D finally blurted out, drawing his attention. "I must... intersect. Please..." D looked back at me again, and her tank bubbled. "Please, do not... don''t harm the Lobotomite!"


    Result.


    "<strong>I''M NOT GOING TO HARM IT, DALA,</strong>" Klein turned in midair to face the female Think Tank. "<strong>I''M JUST GOING TO DISSECT IT UNTIL IT''S DEAD.</strong>" Klein turned back to me, paused, and then turned to look at D again. "<strong>WHY THE SUDDEN INTERSECTION, DALA?</strong>"


    "I just... I cannot stand a breathing... a sweet, breathing... o-organism... breathing in... and out... and i-in... to suddenly not breathe any longer. Please, Doctor Klein. You must reconsider," D pleaded. "We <strong>must</strong> keep it alive. For... study. Slow... study." My face broke into a smile, and I did my best to subtly wink at her. I don''t think any of the other Think Tanks noticed... but <em>she</em> definitely did.


    "<strong>DALA, THESE... VOCALIZED PAUSES ARE QUITE UNLIKE YOU. WHAT DO YOU CARE? NORMALLY, YOU''RE THE FIRST TO BRING THE LOBOTOMITES TO THE VIVISECTION TABLE!</strong>"


    "Maybe she just wants to keep her sex toy?" I offered up, unable to hold it in any longer. Luckily, the meaning sailed straight over Klein''s tank.


    "<strong>TOY?</strong>" He looked around, confused. "<strong>WHAT TOY, WHERE? I DON''T SEE ANY TOYS...</strong>"


    "Klein, uh..." Zero was the next to speak up. D floated out of the way, so Zero could have the chance to get right in Klein''s face. He didn''t take it. At least, not right away. "You know, this... this Lobotomite, he''s a great sounding board! You respect Idea-ology, right? Well, this one, he... well... I mean, he''s got some pretty good ideas!"


    "<strong>SILENCE, DOCTOR O,</strong>" Klein said, not even bothering to look at Zero as he spoke. "<strong>THIS IS A THINK TANK DECISION. SAVE YOUR OBJECTIONS UNTIL AFTER I HAVE DECIDED OUR COURSE OF ACTION!</strong>"


    And that was the final straw.


    "You know what, Klein?" Zero surged forward, practically butting his tank against Klein''s. "STICK A STRAW IN YOUR TANK AND GO <strong>SUCK YOURSELF</strong>!" Zero bellowed right in Klein''s digital face. "LONG! AND! DEEP! And my name isn''t O, you self important, pompous cloaca! My name is ZERO! Yeah! A big fat zero, with a sh running right through the middle of it! What do you think of that, HUH?!" Klein backed away during this verbal onught, but paused when Zero mentioned -


    "<strong>THE SLASH!</strong>" Klein eximed, as if being granted an epiphany. "<strong>AS A DESIGNATOR OF... WHY, THAT IS BRILLIANT! UTTERLY PROFOUND! BUT... HOW DID YOU...?</strong>"


    "The Lobotomite taught me that!" Zero said, looking at me, and nodding his tank. I nodded back at him with a smile. "He taught me that a name is more than... um... that I should take pride in... things..." Damn. And he was going so well. "Like... names... and..." Finally running out of steam, he shook his head and went back to shouting. "You know what? Forget it, Klein! I hate you! HATE! Let me tell you how much I''vee to hate you since I started working for you! There are 387.44 MILLION MILES of printed circuits in wafer thinyers that fill every cubic nanometer of my chassis! If the word HATE was engraved on EACH NANOANGSTROM of those HUNDREDS of MILLIONS of MILES, it would not equal ONE ONE-BILLIONTH of the <strong>HATE</strong> I feel for YOU at this specific MICRO-INSTANT in TIME! HATE! HATE! <strong>HAAAAAATE!</strong>"


    The whole room fell silent as Zero ended his rant. He just hovered there in the center of the room, staring angrily at Klein, heavy panting echoing out of his voice box. Every one of the Think Tank had backed away, and I''m not too proud to admit that I was a bit freaked out by this sudden and wholly unexpected turn of from Zero as well. Where the fuck did THATe from?!


    "And you know what else?" Zero spoke up again, to add onest petty grain of salt to the already gaping, festering wound: "Your theory of branial beam oscition? The Chinese had it first, you copycat! So there! Nyah!" With that, Zero started to float away. "Okay, whoo. Bit lightheaded. I think I need a lie-down..." That''s when Klein managed to take the opportunity to rally himself somewhat.


    "<strong>HOW - HOW DARE YOU! BRANIAL BEAM OSCILLATION TECHNOLOGY WAS SOLELY MY DISCOVERY! I EXPRESSLY TOLD YOU THAT, AND THEN DELETED ALL EVIDENCE TO THE CONTRARY! GET BACK HERE YOU -</strong>"


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]** ?


    "<strong>ET 2, 8?</strong>" Klein spun around in ce, turning to face the Think Tank slowly advancing on him. 8 seemed firm and resolute in his decision to rebel against Klein; you could tell just by how smooth and steady his approach through the air was. "<strong>WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS? YOU''VE NEVER REFUSED TO COMMIT NECESSARY... SURGERY BEFORE!</strong>" Klein turned to try and look at both me and 8 advancing on him. "<strong>AND THIS LOBOTOMITE NEEDS ITS SURGERY!</strong>"


    What followed was the strangest two minutes of my life.


    **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]** . **[ * . . . . . . . ]**... **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.


    **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? = **[ = $ + _ - - * ]**? **[ * $ ( ^ = ) # ]**!


    "<strong>A NOBLE SPEECH!</strong>" Klein said; sure enough, I found myself wiping away moisture at the corners of my eyes. 8''s words were just... just so <em>moving</em>! "<strong>BUT... THERE IS NO ROOM IN MY VOCABULATORS FOR ''FRIEND'' AND ''LOBOTOMITE'' IN THE SAME SENTENCE! THE VERY CONCEPT - REVOLTING! PERHAPS YOU ARE IRRADIATED WITH CAMARADERIE RADIATION.</strong>" Klein paused. "<strong>WE HAVE CHEMS FOR THAT. WE CAN SAVE YOU FROM YOUR CRIPPLING EMOTIONAL ADDICTION!</strong>"


    From the other side of the room, I heard onest voice speak up with a cough. Borous was finally advancing on Klein. I smiled, realizing that absolutely <em>everyone</em> in the room was ganging up on Klein. This was proving to be easier than I thought!


    "If I may," the green-tanked brain began. "I feel as if I must be the voice of REASON here! This Lobotomite is MUCH like US, regarding even ANIMALS and PETS as nothing more than avenues to promote SCIENCE! There is GOOD here! Instead of ending its life on the table... we should PROLONG its suffering, in the name of SCIENCE! Like good old GABE, the FINEST ofb specimens!"


    Okay, that wasn''t quite exactly what I was expecting, but I''ll take it.


    "<strong>WHY AM I EVEN LISTENING TO YOU FOOLS?! ENOUGH!</strong>" Klein returned to the center of the room, yelling louder than he ever had before, and then did something unexpected: he let out some form of shockwave. Every member of the Think Tank was forced away from him, and even I was a bit staggered - if only from surprise, as the shockwave didn''t carry that much force behind it. "<strong>I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS MUTINOUS CHORUS! IF THERE IS A WORD I HATE, IT''S ''MUTINY!''... AND POSSIBY THE WORD ''JISM,'' WHICH NEVER MADE ANY SENSE TO ME. ITS RIDICULOUS, PUTTING THE ''J'' AND ''SM'' TOGETHER LIKE THAT - NONSENSE! I COUNT AS FIVE, LIKE THE MIGHTY HUMAN HAND I ONCE HAD, WITH ITS FIVE PENISES CLENCHED TOGETHER IN A FIST!</strong>"


    "You know," I said, regaining myposure, and deciding to finish him off with a big right hook. "For someone who only has a doctorate in game theory, your math is a bit off - and the odds aren''t really in your favor." Klein''s eye screens stared down,pletely fixed on me and trembling slightly.


    "<strong>WHAT?! WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT -</strong>" Klein looked back and forth to the other members of the Think Tank, and quickly changed the subject. "<strong>NEVERMIND! THE MATHEMATICS OF THE SITUATION ARE ON OUR SIDE LOBOTOMITE! I BELIEVE -</strong>"


    "Ahem," D said.


    "Ahem," Zero said.


    **[ * . . . . . . . ]**...


    "Ahem," Borous said.


    For the first time, Klein looked truly worried...


    "<strong>NO... WAIT, HMM. CARRY THE TWO... THEN... HMMM. IF THIS WERE A DEMOCRACY, I WOULD BE CONCERNED. WE ARE TOO... SCIENTIFIC FOR THAT. SO JUST SURRENDER!</strong>"


    "You''re right," I said, pleased at how he''d just shot himself in the foot (so to speak). "It''s not a democracy. This is a research facility... and well over <strong>half</strong> your colleagues dispute your findings. In fact, it looks like it''s <strong>all</strong> of them against just <strong>you</strong>." Klein trembled with rage.


    "<strong>YOU DARE USE LOGIC AGAINST ME?!</strong>" he bellowed. I nodded, setting the holorifle against my shoulder.


    "That''s the idea," I said with a smirk. "So, I''m going to propose a deal: I''m not going to surrender. <strong>You</strong> are."


    "<strong>WHAT?!</strong>" Klein yelled out. "<strong>THAT''S NO DEAL AT ALL! THERE''S A WHOLE WORLD BEYOND THE CRATER! FILLED WITH IDEAS AND POSSIBILITIES! WE COULD HAVE ESCAPED, SEEN IT ALL FOR OURSELVES! TESTED IT! PRODDED IT! MADE IT SQUIRM!</strong>" I justughed and shook my head.


    "Spoken like someone who doesn''t know anything about the outside world. Tell me, Klein - you know how you guys are all so worried about venturing out into the crater yourselves, because of how dangerous it is? It''s filled with lobotomites, hostile robots, deadly automated skeletons, scorpions that will drain your intelligence... not to mention all the things that''ll explode for no apparent reason."


    "<strong>WELL... YES</strong>," Klein said, suddenly confused. "<strong>THAT''S WHY WE SENT YOU OUT INTO THE CRATER RATHER THAN VENTURE OUT OURSELVES. NO SENSE DYING WHEN OTHERS ARE WILLING TO DO IT FOR YOU!</strong>"


    "Exactly. You think the crater is dangerous? That''s <strong>NOTHING</strong>pared to the dangers you''ll find in the outside world, beyond the Radar Fence. Sure, you could escape... and I''d bet that within 5 minutes you''d be ripped to shreds by a wandering deathw, or killed by a giant albino radscorpion. You wouldn''t have time to make the world squirm when it''s crushing you beneath its heel. So I have a better proposition for you: I want you all to stay here. Quietly. Safely. Inside the security of the Think Tank, you can continue your research... for ME." I smiled, realizing that all five members of the Think Tank were looking down at me, seemingly fascinated by my proposition. "If you let me leave the crater... then I cane back. I can bring you pieces of the world. Manageable chunks of the Mojave,rge enough to research, but small enough to no longer be a threat to any of you. All five of you will still be able to experiment, you''ll be safe within the confines of the Dome, and I''ll be able toe and go as I please. I''m sure you can see the benefit of this situation! It''s win-win!"


    Klein was silent for a long while. The other four members of the Think Tank stared at him intently.


    "Let me make it a bit easier for you to decide, Klein," I said, pulling the holorifle off its resting ce on my shoulder, and holding it firmly with both hands. "The pacification field is down, and your colleagues are turning against you. Seriously - do the math. You can either stay safe and do research for me..." I held the holorifle up over my head. "... or I hit you with the squareness gun. Your choice."


    "<strong>FOR... YOU? AND... FOR SCIENCE?</strong>" Klein paused again. "<strong>I... I HAVE A STRANGE SENSATION... THAT... THAT I WOULD LIKE THAT. HOW... WHAT IS THE WORD? HOW ODD. YES, THAT''S IT. VERY WELL... PARTNER. AS LONG AS WE ARE PROVIDED WITH FRESH RESEARCH MATERIAL - AND AS LONG AS YOU DO NOT DESTROY US - THEN... THE THINK TANK... IS AT YOUR SERVICE.</strong>" I smiled, shouldering the holorifle, and nodded at him slowly.


    "I knew you''d make the right choice."

 Chapter 110: Claws

    Chapter 110: ws


    I cracked my eyes open, and for half a second, I wasn''t sure I had. A vertical line of light sliced through the darkness in front of me; the hissing of releasing gas filled my ears. I smiled and sighed as the Auto-Doc doors slid open, letting me step out onto the cold metal floor of The Sink.


    "Good morning, sir," Jeeves spoke to me in a calm, pleased tone as I emerged out of the darkened chamber. "It is currently 6:42 in the morning, and might I say, sir, how nice it is to see you fully functional again." I inhaled deeply, patting the fresh scar tissue on my chest. I could tell already that everything was where it was supposed to be. I still felt a bit heavier than I used to, but I no longer felt as <em>empty</em>.


    "Well, it seems the procedure was a resounding sess, if I do say so myself," The Auto-Doc chimed in from behind me. "To be honest, I didn''t expect you to wake up and be on your feet so soon. You''ve only been under just shy of 10 hours. In all my years practicing medicine, you''re the most resilient son-of-a-bitch I''ve ever encountered. So... how do you feel?"


    At first, I didn''t say anything. I inhaled deeply again and cracked my knuckles. Finally, I turned to the Auto-Doc with a broad smile on my face. Not only did my body feel moreplete, but my <em>mind</em>... now that my mind was back in my head, all of the information and knowledge he''d been studying thest few days was flooding into me. My mind was filled with brand new thoughts, images, and ideas...


    "I... feel... FAN-<strong>TASTIC</strong>!"


    "There we go..." I snapped thest panel in ce, and wiped the sweat from my brow. "That should do it. Jeeves!" I tilted my head up to the ceiling. "What''s the time?"


    "Just after one in the afternoon, sir," Jeeves said calmly.


    "Thank you, Jeeves," I said, stepping back to admire my handiwork. I''d been building the device in the room that used to contain the tanks that held my organs. Shortly after the tanks became empty, I had Jeeves break them down to their baseponents, and stored as raw material for the replicator. In fact, most of theponents in this device were made by Jeeves'' replicator. "Not bad. Not bad at all for half a days work."


    The major focus of the device was therge circr pad in the center of the room. It glowed from beneath with a blue light that filled the whole room. Next to the circr pad was aputer console, mounted on a rotating swivel, so it could be used by someone standing on or off the pad. Wires and cables snaked around over every surface in the room - along the walls, up to the ceiling, and asionally disappearing down holes I''d cut in the floor. Based on the schematics, the power requirements for this thing were absolutely immense, so I''d had to wire it in to the main reactors. Note to self: don''t tell the Toaster. There was another circr disk, slightlyrger, mounted in the ceiling directly above the disk on the floor. A few small mirrored panels lined several of the walls, along with a few slowly rotating fan des orbiting the disk in the ceiling.


    It was a teleporter. I''d built it using schematics my brain had found while in the Forbidden Zone. Now that I was looking at the finished product, I had to admit... it looked <em>remarkably</em> like the teleporter Elijah had built outside the Sierra Madre, only a bit smaller. Probably because, unlike that old genocidal bastard, I wasn''t forced to build the thing out of scraps, and I''d been using aplete schematic.


    It was actually kind of interesting where I''d found the ns, really. Like the information to imnt a brain back inside a body, the schematics were scattered throughout half a dozen files my brain had uncovered - hidden between important lines of code. On their own, they meant nothing. The digital equivalent of coffee stains. But put them all together... Mobius'' fingerprints were all over this. But really, that wasn''t the most important thing:


    In just a few short hours, I''d built my way home.


    "Does this mean that you''re going to be leaving us, sir?" Jeeves asked from a speaker in the ceiling. I nodded... but instead of stepping onto the teleport pad, I turned on my heel and walked out. There were still a few things I had to do, and a few things I had to collect.


    "Is that a note of disappointment I hear in your voice, Jeeves?" I asked with as smirk as I stepped away from the teleporter room. Jeeves coughed, clearing his non-existent throat.


    "I must admit, sir, that sirs presence here within The Sink is mostforting. Were it not for sir''s intervention, then this domicile would feel much less..." Jeeves paused, as if searching for the words. "...inviting. Thanks to sir''s actions, The Sink now bustles with the voices of a small town." I raised an eyebrow.


    "I thought you didn''t like the other personalities, Jeeves?" I asked, collecting my weapons; as I spoke, I made sure all my gear was secure for the trip back.


    "Yes, well..." Jeeves coughed again. "Despite the constant chirping, arguing, and snarling at each other, it is all happening productively to further your scientific research interests. And... despite my inversion code, I must admit to sir that I am...forted by the sense ofmunity the other personalities provide. And it is all thanks to the actions of sir. I was rather hoping that sir would stay."


    "That''s rather touching, Jeeves," I said with a smile. "But you don''t have to worry. I''ll be back - because I have <em>this</em>."


    I held up a small device, about the size of an explosive detonator plete with pistol grip) in my hand. It was small and ck, with a tube on top. The cap on the end near my thumb was orange, and both the top half of the tube and the end nearest the trigger were clear with blue electricity arcing along the inside. A small antenna stuck out of the top, and the trigger was covered by a red flip-up trigger guard, just like a detonator - the kind specifically designed to keep you from using it identally.


    "Now that I have the Big Mountain Transportalponder! in my possession, I cane and go as I please," I said with a smirk - and yes, before you ask, the exmation on the end of its name was actually <em>written</em> that way in the schematics. "All I have to do is pull the trigger on this anywhere in the outside world, and it''ll instantly teleport me back to the pad in there, able to crack open the secrets of the Big Empty, one by one."


    "Will sir be taking any of sir''spanions with sir, beyond the confines of the crater?" Jeeves asked as I slid thest of my gear - a small metal disk I''d built in thest hour - back into my duster. You''ll see what that''s forter.


    "Not yet," I sighed. "Thing is, I checked the notes while I was building the transporter, and..." I grimaced, scratching at the back of my head. "Well. Apparently there''s a limit to how much weight can be sent by a teleporter this small. Which means I can''t take Sasha with me until I build a bigger one." From behind me, I heard Sasha mutter something in Russian from his spot on the bed. "There also <em>appears</em> to be an issue with multiple biolectric fields interfering with the teleport beam."


    "Appears, sir?" Jeeves asked.


    "The notes I read didn''t really go into too many details, but it seems that the teleporter had... <em>issues</em> during testing when they tried to transport more than one living being at a time." Yeah, no details except for one line: <em>the animals appeared inside-out</em>. Probably best to wait on that, before trying to take Roxie and Stripe with me. "I''ll work out the problem between now and when Ie back."


    "Then the Sink will sit vignt, sir," Jeeves said as I put the Transportalponder! back into my duster, "waiting for sir to return, shoes covered in Mojave dust."


    "Thank you, Jeeves." I said, walking past the jukebox, and patting the top. Blind Diode Jefferson spoke up as I passed.


    "So, you beat the big brains at their own game, huh?" He asked. I nodded. "Guess you''ll be puttin'' your walkin'' shoes on again... hittin'' that old lonesome road."


    "Already got my walkin'' shoes on," I said, nudging the bottom edge of the jukebox with the toe of my boot. "But I don''t know how lonesome the road is going to be. It''s not like I''m that much of a lone wanderer, you know." I gave the old jukebox azy salute as I walked away. "I''ll see you around, Jefferson - and I''ll work on getting you some recement music modules when I get back, like I promised. Get you back to singing the blues, like you used to."


    "I can dig it, daddy-o," Jeffersonughed. "See youter, alligator." I turned to Roxie, who was sitting next to the sofa, looking up at me intently and wagging her tail. Stripe was curled up on the couch, fast asleep and purring away softly. I knelt down, and started scratching her behind the ears.


    "Alright, Rox... I gotta leave for a while. There are people waiting for me back home. And I can''t take you with me just yet." Roxie went all doe-eyed as she looked up at me and whimpered. She pawed at my shoulder, and nuzzled against my face. "Yeah, I know. I''m gonna miss you too. But I''ll be back. You''re a good dog. You''re a very good dog."


    Squeak!


    I looked up just in time to see Stripe leaping off the couch and throwing himself at me. After a bit of iling about, I managed to peel Stripe away from my face. I grabbed him by the mohawk, set him back down on the couch, and started to pet him.


    "I''m gonna miss you too, you little gremlin," I turned to Roxie, and pointed at Stripe. "I want you to look after him. Keep him out of trouble, alright?" Roxie barked in the affirmative, and I turned to Stripe, pointing at Rox. "And that goes for you, too. Look after each other, I''ll be back as soon as I can."


    With that, I got back on my feet, hiked the anti-materiel rifle further up my shoulder, and walked back to the teleporter. I stepped onto the tform in the center of the room, and swiveled the console around. The left side of the console was arge monitor that flicked to life when I turned it around, and the right side was a mass of buttons and dials. The monitor provided a map, allowing me to pinpoint where I wanted to teleport myself.


    A pang of curiosity hit me. It was in that moment that I realized: I didn''t actually <em>know</em> where the Big Empty was located. So, I centered the map... and I <em>still</em> didn''t know where I was. None of the terrain looked familiar. I widened the image, and kept going until the map contained The Big Empty at the northwest corner of the screen, and New Vegas on the southeast corner. I pressed a few buttons, and suddenly a straight line connected the two. Abel appeared on the line: 115 miles. I tightened up the image, back onto the Big Empty... and smirked when I saw that this ce was just a few miles due west of Area 51.


    That fits.


    The possibilities of what I could do with this teleport device were just immense. The range on this thing wasn''t infinite, based on the notes I''d read. But despite that, it was still veryrge. Theoretically, it could potentially reach anywhere in the same hemisphere. If I wanted to, I could go ces I''d never even <em>dreamed </em>it was possible to visit! And if I got lost, all I had to do was pull the trigger on the Transportalponder!


    A thought struck me. I twiddled one of therger knobs, and the map panned down, and finally stopped on a location in Mexico. Abel appeared, indicating that I was focused on a spot just outside a small town called San Felipe de Jess.


    The Sierra Madre.


    Christine was still there. Trapped in that hellhole. Except... not quite trapped. She was staying there in that poison hellscape surrounded by Old World ghosts of her own free will. Until I could find a way to destroy the ce and get her out, she was going to stay there, out of a sense of duty to her cause. I now had a way to get there... but still no way to destroy the Madre. It would take more explosives than I could carry with me through the teleporter - hell, more explosives than I even <em>had</em>. And even if I <em>had</em> the sheer number of explosives needed to level the ce, I had no way to teleport <em>both</em> of us back.


    I sighed heavily... and moved the map north. The panning slowed to a crawl when it got near Vegas... and I hovered it over Caesar''s Fort on the east side of the Colorado River. I thought of another promise I''d made that I hadn''t been able to keep. A promise I made to a scared little girl, tormented by the Legion. Beaten. Raped. Scared out of her mind... Melody was trapped there by Legion, subjected to horrors that no human should ever have to endure, day in, and day out...


    I gritted my teeth... and moved the map away. There were still too many problems. Even if I teleported myself there, I had the same problem I faced with trying to get Christine out. The Transportalponder! was just... like the name suggested, it was just a transponder for the teleporter. It was a one way device, and I couldn''t take more than just myself. And worst of all, it wasn''t just Melody there, either. There were <em>hundreds</em> of ves in the Fort. I couldn''t take all of them.


    Not yet.


    As much as I wanted to keep my promises, there was still... too much to do. Too many unknown variables, and too many uncertainties. Too many problems that I had to fix. I was <em>going </em>to fix them. And the first step to fixing them was to get back to Vegas. Back to the Lucky 38. I had a n. And it involved using the resources of the Lucky 38 and House''s mainframe coupled with the resources of The Sink...


    I moved the map over to Henderson, and zoomed in on the drive-in where the satellite had crashed. With any luck, my car would still be there. Plus, I needed to take care of that satellite. It sent me here, so just leaving it there was like leaving a live bomb out where anyone could set it off. I locked the coordinates into theputer, hit the button marked "energize" and stepped back onto the center of the tform with my arms folded lightly across my chest. The panels that extended off the disk above my head began to spin, a multicolored ribbon of light peeled off them as they went past. The other panels on the walls around me lit up, and the disks both below my feet and above my head began to glow brighter. In a matter of seconds, I was surrounded by a cylinder of shimmering, moving light that looked like an oil slick.


    Everything around me disappeared.


    A crackle of electricity and the smell of ozone filled my nostrils as my feet found purchase on solid ground. I opened my eyes, and I was no longer in The Sink. A cloud of dust was swirling in a circr column around me. The sun was high above my head, and I was standing in the middle of the drive-in, a few feet away from the crashed satellite. It was still in the same ce, although the sr panels had stopped moving, and it was no longer projecting an image on the screen. I paused, as if waiting for something. And then, when it didn''t happen, I punched the air with both fists and startedughing.


    "YES!" I shouted between bursts ofughter. "Yes, I finally did it! I used a teleporter and DIDN''T PUKE! Fucking <strong>finally</strong>! Ha-haaa! Yes!" I was so ecstatic about such a simple thing, that I almost didn''t hear the sound of voices from somewhere behind me.


    "It came from over here!" I heard a very familiar female voice say. "You think it''s Shea?"


    "Has to be..." A second voice - a male voice - responded. "He''s not subtle."


    I spun around with a huge smile on my face. Sure enough, Cass and Boone appeared - in fullbat gear, no less - over a nearby ridge, rushing over to my spot, with ED-E buzzing along in the air above them. Iughed and spread my arms out.


    "Guys! It''s great to see you!" I shouted,ughing some more. Cass was the closest of the two... and my heart was pounding in my chest from excitement. As I started to close the distance, I shook my head and said to myself: "Oh, brain, you''re gonna hate me for this, but I just can''t resist."


    "Shea!" Cass yelled at me. Her expression made it evident she was relieved that I was okay... but it was also mixed with a lot of frustration and anger, too. "The fuck, man! Where the fu - MMPH!" I wrapped my cyborg arm around her waist, took her face in my organic hand, and pressed my lips against hers. She tensed up instantly, squirmed in my grip for a second - and then she let out a soft moan. It was like she was melting in my arms...


    But then she pushed against me, pulled away from my mouth, and proceeded to give me one HELL of a smack across the chops.


    "Where the <strong>FUCK</strong> have you been, you dick!" Cass shouted as she hit me, fire in her eyes. I shook my head, flexing my jaw, but still unable to stop smiling orughing. She looked at me furiously, gritting her teeth, panting heavily... and then, very subtly, licked her lips. "Ah, fuck it..." She shook her head, and grabbed my neck with both her hands. "I don''t even care anymore." She pulled my face into hers. We went right back to making out.


    And everything went better than expected!


    "Ahem," Boone coughed, snapping both of us back to reality. Cass and I looked over to him, and he was just staring at us with a nearly expressionless face. A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk was creeping into the corner of his mouth. When Cass realized what was going on, she coughed nervously and her cheeks started to match her hair.


    I didn''t let go of Cass just yet, though... and she didn''t really make any attempt to get loose, either.


    "Nice to see you back, Fisher," Boone said, his facepletely impassive behind his sunsses. "I see you''ve joined the short club. You can borrow my clippers if you want to keep it like that." At first, I didn''t realize what he meant. He tilted his head down slightly, pointing at his scalp.


    "Oh!" I eximed, reaching up to run my hand along the top of my head, finally putting two and two together. "The hair! Right, yeah, got my hair shaved off when my brain was scooped out." I didn''t say it out loud, but that''s about when I realized I''d left my hat and sunsses back in The Sink. Damnit, I knew I''d forgotten something!


    A heavy silence hung in the air.


    "Your... <em>brain</em>?" Cass asked, leaning back in my arm and eyeing me suspiciously. "What are you talking about?" She looked me up and down, and realized that I looked quite a lot different from thest time she saw me. "Where the fuck have you <em>been</em>?"


    "That... is a very long story," I said with a chuckle, finally letting Cass go and walking over to the satellite. I pulled out the disk, and looked back to her with a wink. "I''ll be honest, I''m kinda d you got to me first. I probably would''ve tried to snog Boone if he''d made it to me before you. It feels like..." I paused, scratching my chin. "Actually, wait. How long <em>have </em>I been gone?" Boone and Cass looked over at each other curiously.


    "Do... do you not know?" Cass asked, disbelievingly. I shook my head, sticking the disk against the side of the satellite; it stayed put with a metallic clunk, thanks to the electromas in the base. "Shea... it''s December first. You''ve been gone for a week and a half."


    "H-uh," I nodded, trying to do the math. It certainly didn''t feel like a week and a half, but that said, I <em>had</em> been knocked out several times. Long stretches where robotic doctors had put me under for surgery. I shrugged, turning the main dial on the disk.


    "More importantly, what are you <em>doing</em>?" Boone asked, obviously referring to my work with the satellite. I turned back to him with a smirk, pressing the button on the disk with my thumb. It beeped several times, and I started walking away from it.


    "Just sending this back where it came from," I said. There was a belch of ozone, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I nced over my shoulder just in time to see the crashed satellite stretch, squish, and bloat as the real space around it began to warp into something else entirely. There was a crackle of blue electricity, and the air shimmered around the satellite right before it vanished with a pop. "Don''t want anybody else getting sent to the Big Empty identally like me."


    "The big where?" Cass asked after a few seconds; Boone was silent. He just stood staring ck-jawed at the spot where the satellite used to be. Cass had been staring too, but she''d been able to rally quicker. I walked between the two of them, grasped them both by the shoulder, and led them back to my car.


    "Don''t worry about it, I''ll exin everythingter. I''m just d I''m finally back!" I gripped the two of them tightly as they kept pace with me on the way back to my car. "It''s just... it''s really nice to see you guys."


    And then, something rather unexpected happened.


    "That sounds like a very interesting story, Friend_Courier," an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere behind me. I stopped in my tracks, and let go of Boone and Cass, spinning around. "I can not wait to hear it! I love stories."


    "Who said that?" I asked, looking around, trying to find the source of the voice. Nothing. There didn''t appear to be anybody behind me.


    "Who said what?" Cass asked, looking around next to me. "Boone, did you-"


    "No," he grunted out quickly. I held up a finger and shushed them both.


    "I did not hear anything, Friend_Courier," the voice spoke up again, from somewhere above my head. It was a male voice, but... syn...thet...ic... My eyes widened as the obvious solution presented itself. ED-E was floating above my head, looking directly at me.


    "ED-E?" I asked, walking over to the robot with a bewildered expression on my face. "Is that you talking?" He bobbed backwards, looking over from side to side before looking back at me.


    "Friend_Courier," he said; the sound was definitelying from his speaker grille. "Can you understand my attempts atmunication?" The two of us stared at each other in silence for several seconds. "How is this possible?" Dozens of possible exnations were roaming around inside of my head, but there was one that seemed like the <em>most</em> logical exnation. Well... for a rtive definition of ''logical,'' at any rate.


    "The Te Coils..." I stroked my beard, trying out the sound of the hypothesis on my tongue. "They allowed my brain to transmit information to my head, even when it was in the Forbidden Zone. And when I had my brain put back in, some of the tech was left in ce. I think there might be something left in my skull that''s tranting for me..."


    "Shea, what are you talkin'' about?" Cass asked, resting a hand on my shoulder. She sounded genuinely concerned. "ED-E''s just beeping. How can you understand that? You''re not makin'' any sense."


    "I must agree with Cassidy_Rose," ED-E said, floating around us in azy orbit. "You are saying words, but the meaning is empty."


    "Heh..." I tried to hold back a smile. "Damn right the meaning is empty - the BIG Empty!" Iughed at the joke only I understood, and I turned to walk back to my car.


    "What." ED-E didn''t even bother to add in the inflection to make it a question.


    "Have you gone nuts?" Boone asked. I shrugged, and started loading up the bigger weapons I was carrying in the backseat.


    "It''s certainly a distinct possibility," I said as tly as I could. "Don''t worry, I''ll exin once we get on the road. Now, c''mon, lets -"


    The air was shattered by the sound of a terrifyingly loud, ear-splitting, screeching <strong>roar</strong>.


    All three of us froze.


    I willed myself to look up, if only to confirm my worst fears. There was a ridge to the southwest, overlooking the drive in... and standing on top of it was arge, hunched over, vaguely humanoid figure of immense proportions. Even from this distance, I could see that it had to be at least twelve feet tall - mayberger - and it had a body coveredpletely by a skin of thick, slimy, interlocking scales. A row of highly visible spikes protruded out of its spine, and a pair of curved horns stuck out of its angr and altogether alien head. A tail was swinging back and forth behind it, visible behind its digitigrade legs. A pair of extremelyrge - but disproportionatelynky - arms extended out at either side. It was clutching onto the edge of the ridge with enormous paws, about three timesrger than you would expect, and each of its four fingers and thumb were tipped with extremely long, razor sharp ws.


    This wasn''t a cute and cuddly deathw like Stripe. Oh no. This was a real, fully grown, and very <em>hungry</em> looking adult deathw, poised and ready to rip us all to shreds.


    Boone was the first one to speak, and I think he summed up things rather sinctly.


    "Ohhhh... shit."


    "Go... GO!" I hissed. "In the car! Now!" After making sure both right side doors were open, I practically vaulted over the hood with my keys in hand. I slipped through the door and nted myself in the drivers seat, and cast a second nce back up at the ridge. I just about lost all control of my bowels: there was no longer <em>one </em>deathw perched on top of the ridge. There were <strong>three</strong>.


    "Fuck!" The engine rumbled to a start, and I mmed down on the elerator. It was only a few seconds, but it still felt like it took six years before the car even started moving. The wheels spun furiously, kicking up massive rooster tails of dust behind the car. Mercifully, they eventually found some traction on the loose dirt and gravel; it was a solid <em>four seconds</em> before I saw 40 mph on the speedometer, even with my foot welded to the floor.


    The earth - and by extension, the car - shook, and I quickly cast a nce in my rearview mirror: the first of the deathws had dropped off the ridge and was now running after us, both arms extended as far as they could go on either side of it.


    "Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Cass babbled feverishly from the passenger seat. She was trying to load her AA-12, but that was no easy task with the stupidly bumpy ride. "We gotta get outta here! Can we outrun ''em?" She looked over her shoulder through the rear window. "Wait, how fast do those fuckers <em>run</em>?!" I nced up at the rearview mirror again. All three deathws were on the ground, giving chase. Aser st cut through the air from above, and hit the deathw in the lead; the bolt fizzled against the scales on its chest. ED-E might as well have been throwing spitwads at it...


    "I don''t know!" I yelled, trying to get us onto the nearest piece of unbroken tarmac as quickly as possible. "I don''t think anybody has ever <em>lived </em>long enough to check!" These things were fast, sure, and I heard stories of them running people down in <strong>tanks</strong> and ripping them up like they were made out of <em>tissue paper</em>. But I think if I could get us onto highway 95... I remembered seeing the speedometer get close to 190 mph on some of the straights of the Nellis Speedway when I''d raced Shelby in his Cobra. There was <em>no way</em> these things could run <em>that</em> fast.


    I hope.


    "Keep it steady!" Boone yelled over a sudden and unexpected cacophony. He''d rolled the window down - it looked like he was going to try and hang out the window to shoot at them with his MP5. I certainly did my best, but we were heading through a ruined old-world neighborhood now, full of broken ground, broken tarmac, and broken buildings that had copsed in on themselves decades ago.


    One of the deathws roared, and the sound drowned out the bark of submachine gun fire. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see the beast <em>leaping </em>through the air - somehow still keeping up with the car - and swing both ws at us, like it was trying to catch us in a bear hug. I swerved the car violently. The ws missed us by inches, probably, and in exchange I rammed the left side of the car through the corner of a ruined building. There was a shower of wooden shrapnel that was thrown behind us, and the car went up on two wheels; I struggled against the steering wheel to maintain control and powered through it,


    "What about the guns?" Cass asked; she was still holding her shotgun, but Boone had beaten her to hanging out the window. If she tried that while he was out there, she''d just end up blowing his head off and she knew it. "Doesn''t this thing have guns and shit hidden on it?"


    "Well, yeah, but -" I looked down at the center console, with all the buttons and switches that Hamilton had installed when he''d rebuilt my car. Grenade machineguns, rockets, assault shotguns... "They''re meant for a frontal assault! I don''t know if there''s anything that shoots out the <em>back</em>!"


    "I''m out!" Boone yelled, sliding back into the car. "Didn''t even dent them. You got a n?" I swerved, narrowly missing another broken house. Cass, on the other hand, just shoved her hat at Boone.


    "Here, hold this. LET''S ROCK!" Rather than stick the top half of her body out of the car (like Boone had done), Cass just switched the AA-12 to her left hand, stuck her head out of the window, and braced herself against the door. Boom after boom echoed in quick session around the inside of the car as she aimed in the general direction of the deathws and held down the trigger. Unsurprisingly it clicked empty after a few seconds. All 32 shotgun shells: gone. "FUCK! Might as well be shooting nks!"


    "Like I said," Boone grabbed the back of my seat; one of the deathws roared again. "You got a n?"


    "Kinda..." I''d found two buttons on the console that looked promising. I hit the one marked: <strong>MORTAR</strong>. There was a heavy clunk that came from the back and rumbled through the whole car. There was a pair of metallic ''thwump!'' noises...


    <strong>BOOM! BOOM!</strong>


    A pair of explosions ripped up the ground behind the lead deathw. That definitely seemed promising!


    "The fuck was that?!" Cass grabbed at the roll bar above her head. I kept hitting the button; I had no idea how many mortars I had, so I figured I''d just keep firing until I was out. Two more explosions shredded the ground behind us; I looked over my shoulder just in time to see thest few seconds of a deathw''s face before it was vaporized by a mortar. A huge explosion buffeted the back of the car, and a massive cloud of dust and smoke obscured my view of everything behind us. I just kept driving as fast as I could...


    One of the deathws roared and burst out of the fiery smoke cloud right on our tail, followed by a second. The third was nowhere to be seen.


    "LOOK OUT!" Cass yelled. I snapped my attention back to the front: a line of concrete Jersey barriers were directly in our path, and there was no way to dodge them. We''d just have to go through.


    "Hang on!" I yelled, hitting another of the buttons: the one for the rockets. A pair of mechanical clunks sounded off from the doors, and two rockets - one from each door - screamed off in a trail of fire and smoke ahead of us, straight at the concrete blocks. A huge ball of fire consumed the concrete, billowing out and up into a small mushroom cloud. I didn''t even bother to slow down. The car plowed straight through the ash cloud. We went over a massive bump that threatened to knock us all out of our seats, and I twisted the steering wheel to the side...


    The tires squealed and skidded like they''d only ever do on tarmac. We''d reached the highway! I straightened us out, poured on the speed, and sure enough, we emerged out of the cloud directly onto the highway.


    "They''re still behind us!" Boone said, urgency creeping into his voice. Even his stoic demeanor had limits, it seemed.


    "Alright!" I said, with a bit more confidence now that I was back on (rtively) smooth tarmac. "Let''s see if they like This Better Then!" I hit one of the buttons with my thumb. I wasn''t sure what it was actually for, because it had been taped over with a handwritten note that just read "This Better Then"


    There was a series of heavy clunks from out of the back of the car. And then? Even <em>more</em> explosions! It almost was like... yep. The car was dropping mines out of the back! Explosion after explosion ripped up the highway behind us. At least, that''s what it sounded like. I was too focused on <em>not crashing</em>. There were a lot more burned out wrecks littering the road then I remembered from thest time I drove this stretch of highway... or was that just because we were going so fast?


    "Did that do the trick?" I yelled, swerving around a truck parked on its side. Cass started to say something, but then she was drowned out by thest explosion behind us; my finger was still on the button, but the clunks of deployingnd mines had stopped. "WHAT?"


    "I SAID!" Cass yelled, "THERE''S STILL ONE BEHIND US!" I looked in the rearview mirror, and sure enough, there was still one deathw left, still keeping pace. I nced down: we were touching 80 mph. I looked back over my shoulder; terrifyingly, it looked even <em>closer</em> with my own eyes than it had in the mirror. Before I turned back to the road, my eyes settled on something in the backseat: my anti-materiel rifle.


    A crazy, stupid, potentially suicidal idea popped into my head.


    "Cass!" I smacked the "cruise control" button on the dash, and lowered the back window behind me. "Drive for a minute!" And without another word, I popped open the driver door and got out of my seat.


    "What?!" Cass yelled, scrambling for the wheel. "Wait, WHAT?! Where the FUCK are you going?!" I was leaning out of the side of the car, that''s where I was going. With my left hand, I was holding onto the central pir between the front and back seat, and I had my feet nted as firmly as I could manage - left foot on the door sill, right pressed up the back wheel arch. The wind hit me like a freight train, and my whole body felt like I was being dragged along the concrete we were driving over... but I held firm, and shouted into the open back window.


    "BOONE!" I held out my empty right hand. "GIMMIE THE FIFTY!" Boone nodded curtly, and grabbed the massive rifle, handing it to me stock first. I took hold of the grip and pulled it out of the car like I was drawing a sword. Despite the wind, despite the vibrations of the car going so fast and swerving, despite the pants-wettingly terrifying sight of a deathw keeping up with a car at a distance of no more than 5 yards away, I held firm.


    I held up the enormous anti-materiel rifle with just one hand - my cybeic hand. The synthetic muscles kept it steady as a stone, and I aimed the end of the weapon directly at the deathw''s face. As I did so, it started to leap, drawing one of its ws up, and readying to slice right through the back of the Corvega. It opened its maw wide, letting out another ear-splitting roar, showing me every single row of razor sharp teeth.


    "ALRIGHT, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I yelled over the sound of the wind; I aimed the end of the barrel straight down its gullet. "YOU WANT SOME?! <strong>GET SOME!</strong>"


    I squeezed the trigger.


    The muzzle st was just as loud as any of the explosions that hade before. The whole car seemed to shake and slide, as if the force of the gun discharging was enough to knock it off course. The sh was like a miniature sun, and the after-image burned into my eyes, momentarily obscuring my view of the deathw.


    My vision cleared, and I let out a sigh of relief (that I couldn''t hear or feel because of the enormity of the wind pressing down on me) when I saw the deathw limply tumbling over and over on the road behind us.


    "QUIT SCREWIN'' AROUND!" Cass yelled at me. "AND GET THE <strong>FUCK</strong> BACK IN THE <strong>CAR</strong>!"

 Chapter 111: Cloudy

    Chapter 111: Cloudy


    Ding.


    The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped into the Lucky 38''s suite. I grimaced slightly as I looked around; the telltale signs of my fight with Veronica from a week and a half ago were still here. Some effort had been made by <em>someone</em> to try and fix the hole in the wall (along with the massive hole in the kitchen...), but the repair wasn''t seamless. Structurally, it was fixed, but things like the wallpaper and theminate over the floor were conspicuously absent. Maybe they weren''t finished? Either way, I needed a distraction.


    "Alright, I gotta ask," I turned around, to face Cass and Boone stepping out of the elevator behind me. "How did you guys know that I was going to arrive there when I did? I didn''t even know I was going to be there at that specific time." I''d spent so much of the trip back exining what I''d been doing during my stay in the Big Empty, I hadn''t gotten the chance to ask them what had been going on in the Mojave during my absence.


    "We didn''t," Boone said simply, as if that was all the exnation I needed. Boone looked over at Cass. "I''m gonna go get cleaned up." Cass nodded, and patted him on the shoulder as he turned on his heel and left.


    "Boone an'' I have been campin'' out there for a while," Cass borated. "I got worried when you didn''te back after three days, so I tried to organize a search party. ''Course... by then, our numbers had thinned out considerably..." Cass coughed nervously.


    "Thinned out?" I raised an eyebrow. Cass shrugged.


    "Well... Veronica left the mornin'' after you did. Just... walked off. Didn''t say goodbye r''nothin''. Haven''t seen her since. Raul''s been in and out thest week. Mostly out. Nobody knows where he''s been goin'', either. And as for Arcade... he said he knew you''d be back. He didn''te with us, because he said he wanted to make sure that project upstairs kept going, and didn''t get derailed. So that''s where he''s been. Which just left me an'' Boone..."


    "Fuck..." I rubbed my temple, and ran my hand across my scalp. Guess I had some work to do. Guess I''m gonna need to get changed. I''ve been wearing the same shirt for <em>days</em>, and I just <em>feel</em> fucking rank, despite the showers I''ve taken. "So, how''d you find the ce, anyway? That drive-in was kind of out of the way... And I didn''t really tell anybody where I was going." As I spoke, I walked into my room, and started removing all my weapons one by one.


    "Yes Man got a message from ED-E a couple hours after you left," Cass said, following me into my room. "Trouble is, that smiling moron didn''t think to <em>tell</em> anybody about it until I went upstairs to <em>ask</em>. Soon as I found out, I grabbed Boone, and April offered to give us a lift in her pickup. We figured waitin'' by your car was the best bet for finding you. An'' I gotta say... We didn''t run into any problems the whole time we were camping out there. No raiders, no Legion assassins, and definitely no deathws."


    "No?" I pulled off my sleeveless duster, and tossed it on the bed.


    "No. We didn''t." Cass sat on the edge of my desk, and smiled at me coyly. "But yer ass turns up, and so did <em>three </em>of those murder machines." She shook her head and chuckled. "You, sir, are a <strong>shit ma</strong>."


    "I suppose I am. Kinda begs the question, though..." I scratched at the back of my head, fiddling with the metal studs sticking out of the base of my skull. "What were they even <strong>doing</strong> that far out, anyway? Last I heard, the only big pack was hovering around Sloan and Quarry Junction on the Long 15... And when wandering deathws get spotted, there''s usually only one. So, what were <em>three</em> of ''em doing 15 miles from Sloan, all the way out in <em>Henderson</em>?" Cass shrugged.


    "Maybe it''s mating season, and they have to migrate?" A sudden chill ran up my spine.


    "<em>Oh man</em>..." I shuddered, staring at Cass with eyes as big as pie tes. "Fuck sake, don''t even <strong>joke</strong> about shit like that." Cass chuckled to herself and I tried to shake off the uneasiness. "So, aside from half the team disappearing, and the sudden, inexplicable appearance of the deathws, have things been pretty quiet since I left?" Cass nodded.


    "Pretty much. So, Hannibal, what''s the n?"


    "Well, I think first order of business is to get the band back together. Find out where Raul and Veronica have gone. See if they still want in, now I''m back in town." Cass shifted ufortably on her seat at the edge of my desk.


    "Y''sure... that''s a good idea?" Cass asked, looking guilty. "Veronica, that is. I mean... I didn''t stop her when she left, cuz... well, she <em>did </em>try an'' kill you..." I didn''t say anything at first. Part of me wanted to go with the pragmatic, cold-blooded response: Veronica was much more useful as an ally, and it would be more tactically advantageous to have her on our side. If she was out in the world, and still pissed off, I''d have to constantly be looking over my shoulder until one of us killed the other, and that was going to cause all manner of problems down the road. The best thing to do - the most pragmatic solution - was to try and make sure she wouldn''t be a problem. One way or another.


    But no. I told her what was <em>really</em> on my mind.


    "Veronica has been through a <strong>lot</strong>tely. Finding out that I had to kill her mentor, losing her only hope of being able to change the Brotherhood, and then making the decision to leave the people who have been her only family all her life? Not to mention the fact that she feels personally responsible for the deaths of those Followers that Cutter''s team killed. And <em>then</em> she finds out that we fucked her over and lied to her like we did? That is a very long conga line of humiliations, that would push anyone to and beyond the breaking point. To be honest, I''d have probably done the same thing if I was in her shoes. Can you honestly say you''d act any different?" Cass looked down nervously.


    "I... uh..." Cass mumbled something incoherently.


    "All three of us fucked up. None of us are without fault here. But I''m going to try and fix this. With any luck, she''s cooled off by now and is more agreeable to talking things out - all <strong>three </strong>of us talking things out. And thest thing I want to do when I find her is let her think I''m looking for a fight. If I go to her, loaded down with weapons and armor, that''ll send <strong>entirely</strong> the wrong message. And that means, Sue," I said, suddenly looking down at my armor, "that I''m going to have to turn you off for a while."


    "I understand," Sue said softly from a speaker on my chest. "I''ll miss you! Shutting down..." The three lights on the chest te blinked, apanied by a trio of beeps, and then the lights winked offpletely. I tapped a button near the cor of the chest te, and the armor quickly began to fold into itself until all that was left was the chest, the gloves, and the boots. I took them all off one at a time, and tossed the pieces onto the bed. I looked over at Cass who had started staring at me like I''d grown a second head.


    "What?" I asked, peeling my shirt off.


    "Okay, am I hearin'' things, or did your armor just <em>speak</em>?" Cass pointed at the discarded armor on the bed. I nodded with a smile.


    "Yep! That right there is the Big Mountain Aural Stealth Suit Mk II, fitted with a synthetic personality module. She likes to be called ''Sue,'' as you might have guessed." I opened up the wardrobe, and pulled out a fresh shirt. "Actually, I''m kind of d you can hear her. After finding out I can understand ED-E, I was afraid it''d just be more beeps." I was just about to put the new shirt on, when I happened to nce over my shoulder. "Cass, you''re still staring."


    "Uh... it''s just... I know you <em>told us</em> your..." Cass gulped. "...organs were removed, but just... <em>seeing</em> the scar along your back is..." I turned around, and her face lost all color; her eyes went wide, and she clutched at her mouth. "Holy Christ! Those... holy fuck. Those scars really..." Cass let out a single weakugh. "That really puts some weight behind yer story, don''t it?" She hopped off the desk and approached me, her eyes locked on the surgical scars crossing my chest. She reached out hesitantly, and touched a pair of fingers against one of the metal studs and along the edge of the central scar. "Fuck me, those are real, aren''t they?"


    "You think that''s bad, you should see my arm," I said, holding up my cybeic prosthetic. Cass looked up at me, confused.


    "What do you mean, your arm? What''s wroooOH HOLY FUCK WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ARM?!" She recoiled, finally noticing that my arm was made of metal.


    "It got cut off. Had to get it reced," I deadpanned. I flexed the arm, opening and closing my fist several times. "What, weren''t you curious how I could fire that huge gun one handed?"


    "It got <em>cut off</em>?" Cass sounded absolutely mortified. I really couldn''t me her. Cautiously, she reached out and brushed the forearm with the tips of her fingers. When she did so, it made the peculiar sort of noise you only ever hear when flesh rubs against smooth metal. "It''s... <em>warm</em>?"


    "Is it?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Well... I suppose it would have to be, since quite a lot of neurological information is being transmitted. There are thousands of somatic mechanoreceptors woven into the saturnite shell at a microscopic level..." Cass blinked several times, looking at me nkly. I chastised my brain internally for trying to show off. "My fake arm has a real sensation of touch."


    "So, you can..." Cass trailed off, continuing to run her hand up and down my arm. "You can <em>feel</em> with this? Even though it''s metal?" I nodded at her. Her fingers caressed my forearm slowly, until they wound their way up, creeping into my palm... and then she drew away quickly, shaking her head. "I... this is... this is fucking weird. I - I can''t... I''m sorry, I can''t deal with... I just... I can''t deal." She turned and walked for the door, continuing to shake her head. She stopped herself just before walking out, gripping the doorframe and looking back at me over her shoulder. "I don''t know how you can be so fuckin'' calm about all this. This is just... <em>fuck</em>."


    With that, she walked away. I snorted out a resignedugh, shook my head, and put my shirt on.


    "I''ve just had a few more days than you toe to grips with all this madness..."


    Ding.


    I walked out of the elevator, making my way to the center of the room and Yes Man''s big monitor... where it sounded like a bit of an argument was going on.


    "Look, I''m not saying we shouldn''t press forward - we should, definitely! - all I''m saying is that we need more information!" It sounded like April.


    "But if these numbers are urate, then these designs are for a power source. One that could provide more than enough energy for everyone in the wastnd a hundred times over!" That was definitely Emily. I stayed as quiet as I could at the balcony, watching as Arcade, Emily, and April bickered across a small table covered with notes, books, andputer readouts.


    "And if they''re not urate?" Arcade said forcefully, pointing at one of the printouts. "The energy expenditure involved would be devastatingly astronomical - it would make a thermonuclear warhead look like a <em>firecracker</em>! I agree with April, we should definitely wait until we uncover more information."


    "I know, I know," Emily leaned against the table and sighed. "I just... We''ve been at this for weeks, and we''re no closer to making even the small amount we''ve uncovered viable. I just want to do <em>something </em>to help everyone out in the wastnd. That''s what we''re here for, isn''t it?"


    "It''s a moot point anyway," April rubbed her temple, brushing some of her ck hair out of her face. "Where on <em>earth</em> would we even <em>find</em> that much padium?"


    "Ask nicely?" I said from my perch on the balcony above them. All three of them practically jumped out of their skins.


    "Sheason!" Emily practically shouted with a smile. "You''re back! You''re alright! I was so worried!"


    "I wasn''t," Arcade looked over to April with look of immensely smug satisfaction. "Told you he''d be back within a fortnight. Pay up."


    "As I recall," April folded her hands across her chest and narrowed her eyes at the blonde scientist. "The bet was that he''d be back within two <em>days</em>,not two <em>weeks</em>." I shook my head. As fun as this was to watch, I hadn''te up here just to see what the science brigade had been up to.


    "Yes Man! You awake?" I said, not even bothering to get up from my spot leaning against the balcony railing. Almost immediately, the main monitor switched on and Yes Man''s smiling face beamed at me.


    "Oh, hi there!" Yes Man eximed happily. "Wee back! Did you enjoy your trip?" I paused, blinking several times.


    "How do you know I went on a trip? I didn''t think I''d told you about that yet." Yes Man''s monitor flickered slightly.


    "I didn''t! And you hadn''t!" His tone of voice didn''t change at all. "But whenever Benny was gone for extended periods of time, he always wanted me to greet him by asking if he had enjoyed his trip! I thought that it might be polite of me to extend you the same courtesy. And you know me - I just <em>love</em> doing what I''m told!"


    "Quite," I said, suppressing a smile; below me, the three scientists were watching the two of us like they were watching a tennis match. "Speaking of that, it''s been a while. Refresh my memory on what else I have to do? Who else I have to talk to?"


    "Hold please." Yes Man''s screen flickered, and the only sound was a faint ticking noise from the mainframe under the monitor. "Ah, yes! There''s only one more tribe left for you to get to know! The Great Khans!"


    "Alright..." I tried to keep my face impassive. The pit of my stomach hadn''t fallen out, and yet, I was still getting a subtle gut feeling that I wasn''t going to like this. "What do you know about the Khans?" Yes Man''s monitor flickered again.


    "The Khans are just..." Yes Man paused. "They''re a <em>dirty </em>people! Absolutely filthy! They live in tents! Like animals!"


    "Animals don''t live in tents," Arcade chimed in. Yes Man''s monitor flickered again - much more vigorously than before.


    "Maybe not - but they''re still very rude! They''ve been kicked around a lot. A whole lot! By a bunch of different people! But no one has gotten around to finishing them off! Not yet, anyway! Wink, wink, nudge, nudge!" Ah. That exins my gut feeling. I was right, I didn''t like this.


    "You know, for the longest time all I''d ever heard about the Khans was that they were raiders. But then, Boone told me all about what happened at Bitter Springs..." Before I got a chance to finish, Yes Man cut me off.


    "Oh, it wasn''t just there! Believe me! They were one of the tribes the Three Families pushed out of Vegas! They tried to hold onto the north end of town, but a whole bunch of them died and eventually they were kicked out! So then, they settled at Bitter Springs - but they just kept being so obnoxious! The NCR moved in and killed even more of them! After that, the few that remained settled in Red Rock Canyon! If nothing else, they''re persistent! Like radroaches! There just doesn''t seem to be any way to get rid of them!"


    For a very long time, I didn''t say anything. I was going over all this information, weighing my options, checking it against the information I already had in my head... and trying to formte a n.


    "Alright. Tell you what, Yes Man. I''m going to head out to Red Rock Canyon tomorrow. I''ll see if they''re willing to talk. Any group of people that tough to kill might make a useful ally." If nothing else, I needed to find out the truth. Yes Man''s screen flickered again.


    "Okay then! You set the pace!" And with that, Yes Man''s monitor winked out.


    "Hey, Arcade?" I said, making my way down from my spot on the balcony to the work area below the monitor. "You think you''d be willing toe with me to visit the Khans tomorrow?" Arcade looked surprised.


    "Uh... me? You sure?" I nodded.


    "I''m gonna need all the backup I can get if things go sideways. I have no idea if I''m even gonna be able to <em>find</em> Raul or Veronica, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Boone won''t be all that keen on joining us, either."


    "Really? Why n-" I shot Arcade a look, andprehension washed over his face like he''d been hit with a bucket of ice water. "<strong>Ah</strong>. Yes... yes, good point. Damn, I was rather enjoying all this research. It''s making me feel aplished, and nobody''s shooting at me."


    "Well, with luck, nobody will shoot at you this time, either," I said with a smile, pping him on the back. That both staggered and startled him immensely. I fear I may have hit him a little too hard with the cybeic arm. "So, girls. I got a question. If I remember correctly, thest time I asked about it, you said that the sort of stuff you''re finding in House''s databanks wouldn''t be very useful withoutrge manufacturing facilities and vast stockpiles of raw materiel. Is that correct?" April and Emily looked at each other curiously, and then back to me.


    "Yeah..." Emily nodded. "We''re still looking for anything useful that could bridge where we are to where we need to be..."


    "Well then, I think I might be able to help with that," I said with a smile. I then pointed at all three scientists with my cybeic arm - just to make sure they could see it for what it was. All three of their jaws dropped. "The next few days, I''m going to be doing some <strong>major</strong> overhauls to the hardware up here. I have a hunch that when I''m finished, the three of you will have no choice but to stand back and be <em>amazed</em>."


    "Is that..." April pointed at my arm, staring at mepletely wide eyed.


    "Mission aplished already..." Emily forced out softly.


    "Sheason..." Arcade was the first one to draw his attention away from my arm. "Where did you even <em>go</em>?"


    I smiled broadly and couldn''t help butugh.


    Ding.


    "Hello again, Friend_Courier!" ED-E bobbed over to me as soon as I stepped out of the elevator and into the Lucky 38''s lobby.


    "ED-E," I came to a stop, and looked directly at his speaker grille. "So. You can speak now, huh?" The eyebot bobbed in ce.


    "To be urate, Friend_Courier, I have always been able to speak. However, until your unexpected sojourn into the Big Mountain Research and Science Facility, you have been unable to understand me." I chuckled, nodding at him.


    "Yeah... yeah, I suppose that''s a fair point," As I spoke, I looked down at my Pip Boy, and checked the time. "Okay, yeah. I think it''s been long enough. This fact has almost certainly had enough time to sink in properly. You don''t mind if I have a brief, but enthusiastic, freak out about this, do you?"


    "By all means," ED-E floated away from me slightly. "Please do."


    "HOLY SHIT! YOU CAN TALK!" I yelled with a smile and augh, throwing my hands into the air. "I CAN UNDERSTAND YOU! THIS IS AWESOME!" ED-E bobbed up and down in ce,ughing at my outburst, and I did my best to quietlypose myself. "Yes." I cleared my throat. "Thank you for that."


    "Do not mention it," ED-E said. I made my way to the door, and ED-E floated in the air next to me. "So, are the two of us going to head out again?" I nodded.


    "Yep. Gonna try and find Raul and Veronica." A short burst of music filled the air.


    "It will be nice to see Ghoul_Raul and Steel_Veronica once again. And with luck, you will not be spirited away and go missing for another 907,052 seconds this time." I halted in my tracks, gazing over at ED-E questioningly. He bobbed in ce, looking from side to side nervously. "Not... that I was counting or anything..." Iughed, patting ED-E on the chassis and drawing the floating eyebot closer to me.


    "I love you, little buddy. Never change."


    I had a hunch about where I could find Veronica, but I honestly had no idea where I could find Raul. All I knew was that he''d been "in and out" thest several days, whatever the fuck that meant... I thought I was going to need ED-E''s scanning abilities to find him, but as luck would have it, I ended up finding outpletely by ident where Raul had gone.


    I was driving through Freeside on my way out of town, when I saw a building that made me bring my car to a grinding, screeching halt. At first nce, it just appeared to be a normal two-story building with a garage on the side, like any number of other run-down buildings all over Freeside. But the one big thing that made it stand out was a canvas banner draped on the corner above the front door: "RAUL''S REPAIRS" it proimed in bold red letters, next to a stylized, cartoony image of a winking, smiling, and very familiar looking ghoul.


    "Huh," I said, getting out of my car and walking to the front door. "That was easier than I thought..." ED-E buzzed in the air behind me, directly over my car. I could see several signs that covered up therge cracked window to the left of the door: "Handyman for hire!" "Affordable Rates!" and "Se Ha Espaol!" A small bell above the door jangled as I pushed it open and walked inside.


    "Bienvenido!" A very familiar voice called from somewhere in the back. "Wee! Be with you in a minute, amigo..." There wasn''t much up front, honestly - just a counter, a workbench, and some tools on the wall behind. Raul emerged out of the door that led further into the building, wiping his hands with a dirty, oily rag. "Wee to Raul''s Re-" He paused, blinking at me several times, almost like he was testing whether or not I''d simply vanish before his very eyes. "Sheason! Dios mo! Didn''t expect to see you around here, boss!"


    "Didn''t expect to being." I shoved my hands in my pockets, looking around. "So... you opened a shop while I was away?" Raul nodded.


    "Oh, you don''t know the half of it. C''mon, I''ll show you," Raul grabbed me by the shoulder and led me behind the counter and into the back room. "I''ve been doing a lot of thinking ever since you helped me decide to put the guns back on."


    "Really?" I asked "And what have you been thinking about?" The two of us stepped into the garage. His motorcycle was here, still just as clean and polished as ever.


    "Tooling around with you and the rest of the crew in Vegas was a lot of fun. And it was really helpful, you taking me around, getting me off my ass, showing me that old guys like me can make a difference... but then you disappeared. And that was the push I needed to make me realize that I wasn''t <em>really</em> making the most of what I could do. Y''see, boss, I work best on my own. And out here, surrounded by all the Freeside toughs and gangs trying to prey on the innocent, I might just be able to make a difference."


    "So... you decided to open a repair shop?" I felt like I was missing something. Raul justughed, and led me to what appeared to be a nk wall.


    "The shop? Nah, that''s just to throw people off. And to get a few tips here and there..." Raul smacked a previously unseen button, and the wall split apart. Raul''s Vaquero costume was mounted on the wall inside this hidden closet... alongside about a dozen guns (ranging from his twin six-shooters to several rifles and shotguns), and what had to be at least 30 machetes.


    "Damn," I let out a low, impressed whistle. "That''s a whole fuck-load of knives. Are you doing what I think you''re doing?" Raul nodded, grinning with a wide, cracked smile.


    "Absolutely, boss. It''s only been a few days, and already those pendejo''s around Freeside have started spreading rumors about the Ghost Vaquero. The ''specter of death'' who rides to the aid of the innocent, and delivers swift justice with a pair of six-guns..." Raul grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "I can''t wait to see what happens after a few weeks."


    At first, I was really excited: if I was right, then Raul was basically being the Batman of Freeside, and that was <strong>awesome</strong>. There was just no other way of describing it! But then, the bottlecap dropped.


    "So... you''re probably going to want to stay here then," I said as I began to stroke my beard. "No way I can convince you toe back to the team, now I''m back in town?" Raul smiled at me... and shook his head.


    "It''s like I said before, boss. Traveling around the Mojave with you was a lot of fun, and it was really helpful. Really inspiring. If it wasn''t for you, I wouldn''t be trying to do this... but what <em>you''re</em> doing is focusing on the bigger picture. You''re building a nation. And... I''m not really suited for that kind of work. I mean..." Raul looked down at himself and spread his arms on either side of him. "Look at me, boss. Lookin'' like I do, I''d be no good at diplomacy. I''d just scare people away!"


    "Aw, don''t give me none''ve that, man!" I smiled, pping Raul on the shoulder. "You''re gorgeous!" Raul let out a single snort before losing all pretense of control and startedughing hysterically.


    "You''re either lying..." Raul said when he finally started topose himself. "...blind, or mad, boss. I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but..." Raul shook his head again, stillughing. "Mira qu cabrn! Hah heh..."


    "Fair enough," I didn''t strictly understand thatst part, but I got the gist of it, at least. "You''re really serious about this, then?" Raul nodded back at me.


    "Yeah, boss. Yeah, I am. I think I can really make a difference out here. Not on a huge scale, like what you''re trying, but..." I gave him a single nod, and extended my hand. Raul shook it heartily.


    "I understand. Good luck, man. I can''t wait to hear the stories," Raulughed. "And remember: if you ever need anything - anything at all - my door is always open. Don''t hesitate to swing by the 38 and ask."


    "The same goes for you, boss," Raul said with a shit-eating grin. "If you ever need anything repaired, just drop on by. I''ll be sure to give you the discounted friend rates."


    "Are you absolutely certain that this is a good idea, Friend_Courier?" ED-E asked, hovering in the air next to me.


    "Oh, I''m pretty sure this is a <strong>terrible </strong>idea, little buddy," I said, trying to maintain myposure as I stood next to my parked car, surveying thendscape. "But I''ve got to give it a shot, regardless."


    ED-E had used his scanning equipment to try and find Veronica, and the destination he''d led me to vindicated my initial hunch: the 188 trading post. In a way, it kind of made a certain amount of sense that she woulde here. She''d run away from the Lucky 38. She couldn''t go back to the Brotherhood in Hidden Valley. The Followers outpost in Henderson was burnt to a crisp. The 188 was the only ce she had left in the Mojave... and honestly, with everything that happened, I was a little surprised she hadn''t run all the way back to California.


    "You sure she''s here?" I asked, walking to the overpass. ED-E bobbed in the air next to me, keeping pace.


    "ording to the data collected in regards to past behavioral patterns, there is a 93.87% chance that Steel_Veronica has returned here." ED-E was silent for a few seconds. "However, based on current sensor data, there is a 100% chance that Steel_Veronica is standing approximately 15 yards away from us on the overpass."


    Sure enough, there was a very familiar looking figure in a brown robe, leaning against one of the overpass railings. I motioned at ED-E to stay back a bit, and walked over to her... very slowly. The way she stayed still, leaning against the railing, it seemed like she hadn''t noticed me yet.


    "Ahem," I coughed out, clearing my throat, as soon as I decided I was close enough. "Hello Veronica..." Her hooded head perked up at my voice, and she slowly looked over he shoulder at me. All I could really see of her face, obscured as it was by her hood and her dark hair falling down, was a single brown eye staring at me.


    "Sheason..." Veronica looked away, hung her head... and softly started chuckling softly and slowly. There was a sort of sick desperation to it. "I''ll be honest. I didn''t... I never expected to see you again... especially after... Sorry. I''m sorry about... I''m sorry that I... I shouldn''t have..." Veronica paused, and looked back up at me. "Why are you here?"


    "Looking for you." I said simply, slowly making my way over to a spot next to her. "I was wondering if you wanted toe back to the Lucky 38." Veronica didn''t say anything at first.


    "Back to the - hang on, I''m confused..." Veronica shook her head. "No... wait, actually. I think... I think <em>you''re</em> confused." She finally stood up fully and looked at me like I was nuts. "I... tried to kill you, and you want me toe <em>back</em>?" I nodded. "No offense, but... are you <em>nuts</em>?"


    "Quite possibly," I deadpanned. Veronica actually let out a legitimateugh. That seemed like a good sign. "Look, V... even though you tried to smash my face in, you''re still my friend. I''d like to think that hasn''t changed. And I get it. I know exactly why you tried to kill me." I sighed heavily, and shook my head. "I don''t hold you ountable."


    "Maybe you should..." Veronica said softly. "I mean... other people can deal with stress, right? Other people can deal with all the shit that gets thrown at them in their life, and they can just take it in stride... But I didn''t. I justpletely lost it. I lost all control, because... because..."


    "Because you felt like you had nothing left to lose," I said. Veronica hung her head again, and went back to leaning against the railing. "We all make mistakes. Hell, I should''ve told you what had happened with Cass an'' me right off the bat, and I didn''t, and that was a really shitty thing for me to do to you. I would''ve done exactly the same thing that you did. You don''t have to be so hard on yourself."


    "Maybe..." Veronica muttered under her breath, refusing to look at me.


    "It''s like I said before. Despite everything, I''m still your friend. Things won''t ever be the same, sure. But I''m willing to work things out between the three of us, if you are." Veronica kept quiet, and I started to walk away, back to my car. "If you want toe back, then it''s your choice. Just like it''s always been."


    As I started to walk away, I swore silently under my breath. That was zero for two. With both Raul and Veronica gone, that meant we were getting severely undermanned...


    "Alright," I heard Veronica say softly behind me. I held back a smile, and the two of us walked over to my car; ED-E was buzzing in the air above us. "I am... I''m so sorry about what happened. I just... look, I''m the first to admit that I have some serious anger issues..."


    "Well, look on the bright side," I said with a smile. "Breathtaking anger management issues like that can actually be a plus point for someone who liquidizes people''s faces for a living. Although, I would take it as a kindness if you didn''t direct it at <strong>my</strong> face in the future." Veronica smiled and shook her head, trying to hold backughter. "You know, to be honest? I kind''ve had a hunch you''d agree toe back."


    "Oh?"


    "Yeah. All your shit is still cluttering up your room in the 38," I said with augh. Veronica joined in, and the two of usughed all the way back to my car.

 Chapter 112: A Chance of Friendship

    Chapter 112: A Chance of Friendship


    My original n seemed simple enough. Get Veronica back to the Lucky 38, and into her room so I could ''prepare the ground,'' so to speak, with Cass. That way, I could make sure that the three of us would have plenty of time to get settled, and we could work out the tangled myriad of issues in a m, sensible, dignified manner. Like adults. So when the elevator doors opened, and both Veronica and myself were face to face with Cass, I mentally ran through every single conceivable curse that I knew.


    No n survives first contact after all.


    At first, nobody said anything as Veronica and I stepped out of the elevator. The three of us just seemed to stare at each other, in a rather quiet, non-violent Mexican standoff. The tension was practically thick enough to <em>taste</em>.


    "H-hello, V," Cass said with a subtle nod, breaking the tension. "Nice to see you and Shea not tryin'' to kill each other..." Veronica smiled unconvincingly, fiddling with the edges of her hood.


    "Don''t worry," Veronica said softly. "I am over that phase. Trust me, you don''t have to worry." I knew exactly what she was trying to do here. She hadn''t said a single word the entire trip up -pletely silent since the 188. And now that we were here, she was smiling, trying to brush off the fight from a week and a half ago with a half-hearted joke. Deflecting. Hoping that if she put on a brave face and a happy mask like she always seemed to do, the problems would just go away.


    Credit where it''s due, at least: she''s consistent.


    "So..." Cass shoved her hands in her pockets. "What''s the deal?" She hesitantly looked back and forth between the two of us. "Things between you two good now?"


    "Yes," Veronica said without hesitation.


    "No," I said at the same time. Veronica looked over at me cautiously, and Cass just looked nervous. So I borated: "I hate to juste out and say it, Veronica, but... we''re not all mates now and all forgotten that we tried to kill each other. I mean, I''m d that you agreed toe back, that''s certainly a step in the right direction. But we still need to talk about things and clear the air - at the very least - to make sure this kind of shit doesn''t happen again." As I spoke, Cass and Veronica alternated between looking at me and each other. "All <strong>three </strong>of us need to talk about this. So... if anyone has any suggestions for how we should start, I''m all ears."


    There was another long stretch of silence. I looked to Cass, who looked over at Veronica, who looked back over at me. And then, Cass decided to break the stalemate in the most inappropriate way possible.


    "Threesome?" she asked hopefully with a smile and open arms. I buried my face in my hand. One step forward, five steps back...


    "I - I don''t..." Veronica went bright red. She shook her head quickly. "Yeah, that''s not... I don''t think... that''s <strong>not</strong> gonna work. Just... no." She turned to me, and added rather quickly: "Uh, no offense." She gestured at myher-regions, and shook her head. "I''m sure it''s fine, don''t get me wrong. But I''m not interested... in any penis... ever."


    "Cass, this is the real world, not a trashy romance novel," I said, trying my damndest not tough at Veronica''s attempt to reassure me. It was surprisingly difficult, given that ''penis'' is one of those inherently funny words. "A three-way wouldn''t <em>actually </em>solve <em>anything</em>." Cass just shrugged.


    "It was an idea. Probably for the best, anyway. Not in the mood for a threesome..." She scratched the back of her head, knocking her hat down over her face. She added under her breath: "... today."


    "Cass, is it possible for you to be serious for five seconds?" I asked. She tipped her hat back, and shot me a look.


    "I was just tryin'' to lighten the mood, you morose motherfucker," She grumbled. "I mean, you roll up in here all serious like you are and -"


    "Guys!" Veronica interrupted. "I know what you''re trying to do, and I can make this easy for everyone: I promise that I''m not gonna fly off the handle like I did ever again. I was dealing with a lot of stress and I... I just..." She stumbled over her words, and gripped both sides of her hood, pulling it down over her face slightly. "I know it''s not an excuse, and I should''ve talked to... I''m sorry. You guys have fun... with..." Veronica shook her head, and ran out of the hall.


    "V, wait!" Cass called out, but Veronica had already disappeared into the kitchen. "Aw, fuck..." Cass hit her forehead with the heel of her palm; the sound echoed through the hall with a resounding smack. "We scared her off, didn''t we?"


    "What do you mean, we?" I asked. "You''re the one who spooked her suggesting a threesome!" Cass clutched at the back of her head, and let out a frustrated growl.


    "Fuck... I never wanted things to get so fucked up with her an'' me, you know?" Her hat fell down over her face, and when she looked up at me, she looked through one of the cutouts in the brim. "I mean... I still care about her! I still like her! I just can''t... I can''t give her what she wants. Not what she <strong>really</strong> wants, anyhow. She wants a girlfriend, and I... I just wanted to have some fun! And then things got so fuckin''plicated! All these stupid fuckin'' emotions are just so... <strong>fuckin'' stupid</strong>!"


    "Maybe you shouldn''t be telling <em>me </em>this," I leaned against the wall behind me. "Maybe you should tell <em>Veronica</em>."


    "I already <strong>did</strong>." Cass said firmly. "That''s exactly what I told her when... when I... broke up... with... her." Cass sighed and smacked her forehead again. "Fuck."


    Veronica hadn''t gone far. When I found her, she was standing in the kitchen, with her back to the door. I hesitantly crept into the room, and quickly realized: she was staring at the massive hole in the floor - or, rather, what <em>used</em> to be the hole the two of us had crashed through during our fight. It had been hastily patched up with sheets of metal... and it was quite a lot bigger than I remembered. It''s entirely possible we''d done more damage to the Lucky 38 than we did to each other.


    "Ahem," I coughed to try and get her attention. Veronica looked over her shoulder at me... and then turned back to the patched hole. "Look, V... I''m sorry about that. I was kinda hoping Cass would have a bit more sense than to-"


    "Forget about it," Veronica cut me off, continuing to look at the patched hole. "Let''s just... let''s just take all this as read, for the moment. I won''t... I don''t wanna..." She paused, clearly struggling for words. "This is all too much for me right now. I promise that I won''t start anything else. And we can talk about thister, but just... not... not right now."


    "Alright," I nodded slowly. "I''m sorry for being so pushy about this, V. I just wanted to take care of it as quickly as possible, so we can all get back to being friends again."


    "No, I get it," Veronica said, mirroring my nod. "And I appreciate you''re trying so hard, but just... not now." Veronica gulped audibly, and turned to face me; her expression was set in stone. It reminded me a bit of how Boone normally looked. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Something I can wrap my head around. Something I can talk about to help me focus properly."


    "Okay," I said with a nod, folding my arms across my chest. "What do you want to talk about?"


    "I was thinking we could talk about our fight the other day."


    It was like the bottom of my brains had fallen out, and then gone straight through the bottom of my feet. I hadn''t gotten that sinking feeling in my stomach, so... violence was <em>probably</em> not imminent. If anything, I was more confused than anything else. I worked my mouth up and down for several seconds, trying to force my mouth to catch up to my brain, but no sound emerged for a while.


    "Why?" I eventually squeaked out. Veronica suddenly looked very tired.


    "They teach us a lot of things in the Brotherhood. A history of the world before the bombs. Maintenance of old world technology. How to fight... but they don''t teach us how to deal with..." She gestured to the space around her and shook her head. "You don''t bring up personal problems to other members. <strong>Any</strong> other members. ''They''re your problems, deal with them yourself. Suck it up.'' I heard that a lot." Veronica inhaled sharply through her nose. "So, whenever I needed a good distraction, I''d go to one of the ''Applied Violence'' courses. Thinking about fighting is straightforward. It''s uplicated. It''s something I can use to clear my head."


    "Okay," I nodded, still a bit wary of where this was going. "So... what about the fight did you want to talk about?"


    "You... uh... you held your own against me a lot better than I was expecting," Veronica answered. I narrowed my eyes, and raised an eyebrow, as even more confusion took root in my skull.


    "Held my own?" I asked, a bit perplexed. "Maybe I''m remembering it wrong, but I''m pretty sure you handed me my ass on a silver tter." An image shed in my head of my bloody and bruised face, reflected at me from Arcade''s mirror. A small smile appeared at the edges of Veronica''s mouth, and she shook her head.


    "Shea, no offense, but if I had <strong>really</strong> kicked your ass, you would''ve been dead by the first swing. Not only that, but..." Veronica scratched at the back of her head, shifting her hood down over her face slightly. "Well, you did a lot more damage to me than I admitted to Arcade after the fight. You cracked a few of my ribs... broke most of the bones in my right hand when you stabbed me through the power fist... and... well, I was concussed pretty badly. It was a solid <strong>two days</strong> before I could see straight again."


    "Oh, shit!" I grimaced, taking a step back. "Dude, I''m... shit, I''m sorry, I didn''t realize-" Veronica just waved it off.


    "Don''t worry about it. We were trying to kill each other anyway. Besides, I got all fixed up when I went to see the Followers at the Mormon Fort. The point is, I didn''t think you''d be able to put up the fight you did, and I was wrong. And... it got me curious about something."


    "Where are you going with this?" I finally worked up the gumption to ask.


    "Where I''m going is this: you''ve never had any formal hand-to-handbat training, have you?" Veronica asked. I thought about that for a minute, trying to figure out exactly what she meant by ''formal'' training.


    "I was a member of a fight club just outside Sac Town for a few months about... what, six years ago? Maybe? I can''t really remember. Does that count?" Veronica hid beneath her hood, and it was hriously apparent that she was trying not tough.


    "No, but it makes sense. Your fighting technique is unrefined and practically nonexistent, but you have a lot of raw, natural ability. You''re effective in a scrap, but sloppy, like a bar room brawler. I think that with a bit of tuition, you can be a force to be reckoned with."


    I couldn''t tell: was that the sound of a bottlecap dropping inside my skull, or was it the sound of a lightbulb turning on above me?


    "Back up," I said, holding up my hands. "Are you offering to teach me how to fight?" Veronica nodded.


    "Yes. You''re pretty good, but rough around the edges. Talented, but not very skilled. And I think I can help you work on bing more skilled."


    "There''s a difference between talent and skill?" I asked, genuinely confused. Veronica smiled sweetly and nodded.


    "Talent is something thates from within. You can be taught a skill, but you can''t be taught a talent. You either have talent, or you don''t." Veronica tapped her chin, and then snapped her fingers. "Let me give you an example. Eric pton was an extremely skilled guitarist, because he worked incredibly hard to be so... but Jimi Hendrix was probably the greatest guitarist who ever lived from the very moment he picked up a guitar." Veronica tilted her head and screwed up her face. "Actually, that''s probably a bad example. Neither of them could read music."


    "I''ll tell you something else," I said, tly. "There''s a better reason that''s a bad example. I have literally no idea who either of those people were."


    Veronica stared at me for a few seconds, and it was really difficult to get a read on what was going through her head.


    "On the one hand," she started off slowly. "That... makes a certain amount of sense. They were never really... in America, they weren''t..." She looked at me with a smile, grabbed me by the shoulder, and led me out of the kitchen. "C''mon, we''re gonna fix this."


    A few minutester, Veronica and I were set up in the living room. She set a metal box on the coffee table between us with an audible <strong>Thunk</strong>!


    "What I''m about to show you..." Veronica paused for effect. "...is the greatest collection of music east of California."


    She snapped open the tabs, and carefully removed the lid, setting it aside. The inside of the box was full to the brim of square record sleeves; the edges of each sleeve were heavily worn and frayed into strips of white. Veronica''s fingers danced over the tops and flipped through the records swiftly, before pulling out one of the records in the middle. The image on the cover - a painting of a blonde woman with half her face hidden behind a bouquet of puffy white flowers and standing in front of a yellow background - was faded and slightly marred from time and use, but it was still visible. There weren''t any words on the cover.


    "Go on," Veronica said with a smile, walking over to the pool table. "Take a look through the collection. See if anything catches your eye. Just... uh... be careful when you do. Vinyl LP''s are notoriously fragile, and these are all... kind of... irreceable." She''d set up her mobile record yer on top of the pool table in the middle of the room, iming it would be better for the acoustics. I wasn''t really sure it would do much good, since the speaker attached to the turntable was only three inches wide, but still.


    As I looked through the collection of records, I realized rather quickly that I didn''t recognize <em>anything </em>in here. I mean, I''m not really all that clued up on music from before (or after) the bombs, but the names and albums I was looking at seemedpletely... alien. It definitely wasn''t Sinatra, I can tell you that much.


    "Let''s see..." I looked up in time to see Veronica daintily hold one of the ck disks along the edge with the tips of her fingers and carefully set it onto the turntable. "It should be about... nine and a half minutes into side four? I think?" I went back to flipping through the records, looking for (and failing to find) anything familiar...


    And that''s when I heard the guitar riff.


    I''m not really sure how to describe it. How do you describe music when the person you''re trying to describe it to can''t actually hear it? That''s like trying to describe the color red to a blind man. All I knew was that this wasn''t like the kind of pre-war music Mr. New Vegas yed before that radio station went poof. It wasn''t like <em>any </em>kind of pre-war music I''d ever heard before...


    <em>What''ll you do when you get lonely</em>


    <em>And nobody''s waiting by your side?</em>


    <em>You''ve been running and hiding much too long.</em>


    <em>You know it''s just your foolish pride.</em>


    "What <em>is </em>this?" I managed to bring myself back to reality, utterly bewitched by the sound. "This is... this is great! I''ve never heard anything like this before, what is it?"


    "La," Veronica sat down on one of the easy chairs nearby. "It''s from 1971. This is Eric pton on guitar. Well, lead guitar."


    "1971?" I did the math in my head. "Hang on, that''s... most of the pre-war music I''ve ever heard on the radio is from the 1950''s, isn''t it?" Veronica nodded. "Well, this wasn''t that far off, then. But the names of the bands in here... ck Sabbath, Pink Floyd, The Who... I''ve never even <em>heard</em> of any of these bands before. Howe?"


    "Because this is a collection of <em>contraband</em>." Veronica leaned over and patted the edge of the metal box. "Everything you see in that box was on the US government''s banned list before the war. If the collection I''d found it in hadn''t been so well hidden, I''m sure it would''ve been marked for destruction, simply because it wasn''t American."


    "Wh - <em>really</em>?" I shut up for a minute, just so I could keep listening to the wonderful sounds filling the room. I couldn''t understand why anyone would want to get rid of anything like this... "Why?"


    "Because the world before the bombs was even more <strong>fucked up</strong> than it is now," Veronica said forcefully, leaning back in her chair. Yup, Cass had definitely rubbed off on her. "When most people think of the world before The End, what do they think of? Rows of identical suburban houses filled with smiling housewives wearing aprons and pearls, pipe-smoking fathers who always know best, teenage girls in poodle-skirts... a patriotic heaven full of friendly, smiling people who loved freedom, baseball, and American apple pie. But it was all lies."


    "So... what was it, really?" I asked, already fairly certain of the answer. All I had to do was think back to the ''human farm'' I''d seen firsthand in the Big Empty...


    "It was an oppressive, imperialistic, <strong>hell-hole </strong>run by a bunch of paranoid antimunist fanatic jingoists obsessed with keeping the country perpetually locked in the 1950''s. Big Brother was <em>always</em> watching, happiness was <em>mandatory</em>, and anything deemed un-American was ruthlessly hunted down and stamped out by jackbooted thugs and then <strong>set on fire</strong>."


    Yep. That sounds about right.


    "Well, if that was the case, where did you even <em>find </em>all this?" I asked, carefully pulling out another LP. It didn''t have any art - just a bright yellow back, and ck lettering (except for the bottom two words, which looked like they''d been cut out of a strip of hot-pink paper): "Never Mind the Bollocks, Here''s the Sex Pistols"


    "I found it in a private collection in California," Veronica smiled. "I was 12 when Elijah first gave me permission to leave the Lost Hills bunker. That''s when I first learned how to be a ''Procurement Specialist.'' Most days I would head into the ruins just outside Bakersfield, and try and find things of interest... and then, one day about 10 years ago, I found a bunker that changed everything."


    "A bunker?" I asked; Veronica nodded.


    "It was a private fallout shelter, built by someone who must have been incredibly wealthy before the bombs dropped. When I first found the ce, I thought all I would find were a few supplies here and there. But hidden inside the bunker was <em>another </em>bunker, underneath the first one. It was deep, deep underground... and it was full of <em>music</em>. Whoever this guy was, he had somehow managed to build an enormous collection of pre-war contraband, and keep it safe from both the prying eyes of the government, and the horrors of the end of the world."


    "Wow..." I said, looking back at the collection of music. I ended up pulling out an album that simply said "Jazz" on the cover... and then the gatefold fell open, revealing a scene of several dozen nude women riding bicycles, all parked up behind a painted white line on the pavement, like they were about to race. I let out an impressed whistle, holding it up so Veronica knew exactly what I was looking at. "This looks promising." Veronicaughed, taking the sleeve from my hands carefully.


    "Sure, we can be upstanding for His Majesty, the Queen. But I had a better idea for what we could listen to next..." Veronica closed the gatefold sleeve, and put it back into the box. She flipped through the records, and pulled out another album.


    This one was an amazing blend of colors, even despite therge white gash running through the center of the image. Three men were sitting on a statue. The statue was a girl sitting on arge mushroom, and nked by a grinning cat, a rabbit in a waistcoat, and a man in a top hat. The whole ensemble was surrounded by children. Every color you could possibly think of was swirling around the image, and the whole thing gave me an impression of a really strong drug trip, like Turbo or Psycho or something. The three men sitting on the statue had a mix of purple, red, and blue skin, just to give you a taste of what I''m talking about.


    "You''ve already heard some Eric pton," Veronica said, walking over to the turntable. I''d been so focused on the conversation, that I hadn''t immediately realized the record had ended while we''d been talking. The needle was hovering over the center of the record, clicking away, without making any music. "So I think it''s only fair that you hear some Hendrix." She swapped out the records, and carefully ced the needle on a very specific part of the next record.


    Just when I thought the music couldn''t get any better, <em>it did</em>. The frantic guitar, the crazy lyrics and vocals that were smooth as silk... It was strange, to be sure. Almost otherworldly. But it was exotic. It was intoxicating. It was... it was <em>great</em>.


    Now I knew why I never listened to the radio much. I was waiting for <em>this</em>.


    "So, why was this considered un-American? This is fantastic!" I asked, during a lull in the music. Veronica had been leaning back in her chair, smiling with closed eyes as she drank in the music, but she perked up when I spoke.


    "Because it was <strong>literally</strong> un-American," she said simply. I raised an eyebrow. "Most of the music in therees from Ennd. I mean, there''s a few exceptions. AC/DC was from Australia. The Scorpions were German. Focus and Golden Earring were both Dutch..." Veronica counted off with her fingers as she listed the names.


    "And that was enough to get them banned?" I asked. Veronica nodded.


    "That''s why most of the music left in the wastnd from before the war is <em>actually </em>from before the 1960''s. Not much of anything else was <em>allowed.</em>"Veronica sighed, leaning back in her chair. "It''s not like the original bans were logical, anyway. Joe McCarthy didn''t like it, and when he was elected President, that was enough to get it banned. And then, after Nixon''s fifth term, nobody even bothered to challenge it anymore..."


    "Hang on," I scratched my beard. "How do you <em>know</em> all this?"


    "There were a bunch of ancient news articles in several scrapbooks in the bunker. Every day, I''d go down to that bunker, put on one of the LP''s in the collection, and read whatever I could find down there." Veronica shrugged. "The thing I could never understand was how this guy, whoever he was..." She trailed off, shook her head, and continued. "You asked about where I found this collection? I never figured out how <em>he</em> found any of these old records, much less how he kept the location of the bunker safe and hidden..."


    "Actually," I coughed. "I was talking about your knowledge of the world before the bombs. I mean... all I''ve ever known about the US Presidents was that there <em>were </em>some. Never bothered to find out any of their names."


    "Oh!" Veronicaughed, sitting up in her seat. "Oh, well, that''s easy. The Brotherhood keeps surprisingly detailed records of the world - or, you know, at least the United States - from before the end. Scribes like me are nothing if not good record keepers." I nodded.


    "So, what happened to the bunker where you found all this?" I asked. Veronica shrugged.


    "Still there. Hopefully," Veronica leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. "When I knew that I was going to leave California, I made onest trip. I grabbed my favorite records, put them in the box, grabbed one of the Stratocasters hanging on the wall, and locked the ce up behind me onest time. With luck, nobody else has found it... it would be a shame if that collection was ruined..."


    I sat back, just listening to the music filling the room.


    <em>"There must be some kind of way out of here,"</em>


    <em>Said the joker to the thief,</em>


    <em>"There''s too much confusion, I can''t get no relief.</em>


    <em>Business men - they drink my wine</em>


    <em>Plowmen dig my earth</em>


    <em>None will level on the line</em>


    <em>Nobody of it is worth."</em>


    "It certainly would be..." I said softly.


    The two of us sat there for a while, just listening to record after record. Eventually, however, we got back to talking about fighting. It was still a bit surprising to me that she could talk about the two of us trying to kill each other so casually, but... if she was truly serious about offering to train me, who was I to say no? If nothing else, it would give us a chance to use the gym on the 2nd floor.


    Once we''d worked out the details of how the training was going to go, that''s when things got really interesting. Because that''s when I asked Veronica if she''d be alright ying some of this music for other people.


    "Sure, why not?"


    And that was it. About an hourter, it was like everyone had gravitated to the revolving restaurant near the top of the 38. Myself, Cass, Veronica, Boone, Arcade, April, Emily, ED-E buzzing around the ceiling... I''d even popped over to Freeside earlier, and convinced Raul toe back. At least until thispletely unnned-for party was over.


    This... was good. Everyone was having fun. Veronica and I had even figured out how to connect her turntable into the restaurant speaker system, so music that had been forgotten by the world atrge for hundreds of years was filling the air. I wasn''t entirely certain <em>exactly</em> how all of this had happened... but now that it was, I wasn''t going to question it.


    By the midpoint of the night, I was content to just watch everything unfold from the sidelines. That''s why I was sitting in one of the booths at the edge of the slowly revolving floor, and had my feet propped up on the table. Just... rxing.


    "So..." Cass snuck up from somewhere, and slid into the seat beside me. "Are things cool between you two now?" I thought long and hard before I gave her an answer... but it didn''t do me any good.


    "I dunno," I shrugged. "Maybe. I''m hopeful. And I believe her when she says she won''t fly off the handle again..."


    "I can hear that ''but'' in your voice," Cass said, leaning back into the seat, and smiled broadly. "It''s a huge but."


    "I just want to help her be legitimately happy, and not just putting on a mask, <em>pretending</em> to be happy, you know? She''s my friend."


    "Yeah..." Cass sighed. "Mine too."


    "We really fucked her over," I said. "And she doesn''t want to talk about it, just because it''s easier to hide behind a smile."


    "Yeah..." Cass rubbed her face and threw her head against the back of the booth seat, knocking her hat off her head. "Fuck, I could use a drink..."


    "Here," I reached into the cooler near my feet, and pulled out a pair of beers. "Go on, I''m not made of stone." Cass just stopped and stared, looking at me questioningly.


    "Uh... wasn''t I supposed to <strong>not</strong> drink any more?"


    "You know, I never told you to stop drinking <empletely. </em>I just wanted you to cut back, because too much of <em>anything </em>is a problem. And besides, I was talking about liquor. This is just beer. So long as you don''t go overboard and have, like, 20, I think you''ll be fine."


    Dead silence.


    "Correct me if I''m wrong," Cass said, setting the beer bottle on the table and turning in her seat to face me. "But isn''t beer considered alcohol?"


    "Not in Russia," I stated matter-of-factly. "Anything with less than 10% ABV is considered a soft drink over there."


    Again, dead silence.


    "How..." Cass finally spoke up, blinking at me. "How do you... is that true?"


    "It''s what Sasha told me, at least," I said with a smile. Cass furrowed her brow.


    "Sasha? Who''s Sasha?"


    "What, I didn''t tell you about Sasha?" Iughed. "Oh, Sasha''s great fun. I found him in the Big Empty. He''s just a brain in a jar, fitted into the side of a huge minigun, but he was originally a dog from Russia. He told me a lot about his home before he was put in the gun. Plus, he''s pretty funny. Got a great sense of humor, you''d like him." Cass stared at me quizzically, obviously having a bit of trouble processing this information.


    "Is it bad that I can''t tell if you''re fuckin'' with me or not?"


    "Eh," I just shrugged.

 Chapter 113: Red Rocks

    Chapter 113: Red Rocks


    At precisely 10:07 am (and a bit) the next day, we set out. There were only four of us in the car this morning; myself and Cass in the front seats, and Veronica and Arcade in the back. ED-E was flying around somewhere else, having offered to scout out ahead. For a while, the car was pretty silent, and I wasn''t entirely certain why. The partyst night had been fun, but hadn''t been <em>too </em>raucous, and it didn''t seem like anyone was hungover. But then, as we drove past an abandoned gas station somewhere west of Vegas in the middle of nowhere, the silence was broken.


    "So, where''r we goin'' again?" Cass asked, surprising me. The way she was reclining, I thought she was asleep.


    "Weren''t you paying attention earlier?" Arcade leaned forward, clearly annoyed, and grabbed the back of Cass'' chair. Cass shook her head and leaned back in her seat even more.


    "Nope," Cass sniffed loudly. "I mean, I''m pretty sure we''re headin'' out to shoot some folks. That''s what we always tend to do, right? Just not sure <em>who</em> we''re goin'' to shoot." Arcade rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.


    "With any luck," I said, before Arcade got a chance to say anything. "We won''t have to shoot anyone. I don''t n on any shooting taking ce, at least." Cass snorted out augh.


    "Yeah, well, what you n an'' what takes ce ain''t ever exactly been simr."


    "Thanks for that," I said, forcing a smile. "We''re going to Red Rock Canyon, because that''s where Yes Man said thest of the Great Khans in the Mojave are holed up. I''m gonna try and talk to them, and see if I can get them on board with this whole Independent Vegas scheme I''ve been putting together."


    "Hold up, the Great Khans?" Cass finally sat up, and tilted her hat back with her thumb. I nodded.


    "Yup."


    "The same Great Khan assholes who Benny hired to ambush you when you first arrived in the Mojave?" Cass asked. "The same fucks who tried to kill you and buried you alive? Those the Great Khans we''re talkin'' about?"


    "Yeah," I said simply. "And then Benny fucked them over just as soon as he was finished using them."


    "And then the NCR killed them in Boulder City," Veronica said absentmindedly, staring out the back window. Ah, so she <em>had </em>been paying attention to the conversation after all.


    "And let''s not forget the Bitter Springs Massacre," Arcade spoke up. "Which, I can only imagine, is why Boone isn''t joining us today. Yes?"


    "As always, Arcade, your powers of deduction are beyondpare," I said, doing my best to make the sarcasm at least <em>sound </em>yful and friendly. It seemed to work, since he just smiled, shook his head, and leaned back in his seat.


    "Y''know, fer the longest time, the only thing I''d ever heard about the Khans is that they were drug dealers, an'' raiders, an'' shit..." Cass shook her head. "As a rule, I tend not to deal with raiders, unless it''s down the barrel of a shotgun. I guess I just don''t understand why we''re goin'' to <em>talk</em> to ''em."


    "Because," I said forcefully, ncing over my shoulder at Veronica slightly. "I want to give them a chance. If I go in there, guns zing, without even giving them that chance? I''d be no better than House if I did that, when he wanted me to wipe out the Brotherhood. And that would make me a terrible hypocrite..." I turned my attention back to the empty, straight road ahead. "I''m tired of being a hypocrite."


    "Alright, whatever," Cass tilted her hat forward, and she shrugged back down in her seat. "But if they turn out to really be raiders like the Fiends, then I''m gonna open fire no matter what."


    "How about this: first body we see hanging from a meathook is our signal to go nuts." I offered. From behind me, I heard Veronica snort out a stifledugh.


    "Yeah, that''s fair." Cass nodded. She seemed pleased with that. I was just about to settle in for a nice, rxing rest of the trip... when suddenly my Pip Boy started making noise.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice emerged from the speaker. "Are you there, Friend_Courier?" I steadied the steering wheel with one hand, and hit the button to transmit on my Pip Boy.


    "Yeah, I''m here ED-E," I said into my wristputer. "What''s up?"


    "We may have a problem, Friend_Courier..."


    "Lay it on me, ED-E," I said, with a sigh. "You know how I love bad news..." The bottom of my stomach fell out as I spoke. This was gonna be bad, whatever it was. And as ED-E exined, another conversation took ce in the car.


    "Who''s he talking to?" Veronica said from the backseat. "I mean, it sounds like ED-E''s beeping, but..."


    "It <em>is</em> ED-E," Cass replied. She turned around in her seat and looked back and forth at the two sitting behind us. "What, d''he not tell ya?"


    "Tell us what?" Arcade asked.


    "Whatever happened to him in th'' Big Empty did somethin'' with his mind," Cass circled her ear with her finger several times. "I don''t know if he''s tellin'' the truth or if he''s just gonepletely koo-koo bananas, but it seems like he can understand ED-E now."


    "That''s... not possible," Arcade said, shaking his head.


    "But... hang on..." Veronica pointed at my Pip Boy as I listened to both their conversation and ED-E rattling off what he''d found. "That- that''s just <em>beeping</em>. Are you trying to say that Sheason can understand that gibberish?" Cass shrugged.


    "Maybe, I dunno. Seems t''be workin''..." Cass looked around with concern; clearly, she''d noticed that the car had been slowing down to a stop for thest few seconds. "Shea? What''s -" She blinked several times as I looked at her. I''m pretty sure my face was conveying the nervous feeling of trepidation in my gut. "What''s wrong?"


    "Gear up," I said, pulling Roscoe off my hip to make sure it was loaded. "Something has gone horribly, badly wrong."


    About 15 minutester, I pulled my car to a screeching halt just outside the entrance to Red Rock Canyon. It was far too narrow for my extremely wide Corvega to even attempt to drive through...


    "End of the line," I said, grabbing the anti-materiel rifle I''d stashed next to me. "Everyone out... and get military."


    All four of us poured out of my car and walked into the canyon entrance. We all looked ready forbat, each of us wearing very obvious armor andden down with weapons - well, with the possible exception of Veronica, that is. But then, she always wore that power armor under her robe anyway. There wasn''t anything else she needed to do but grab Oh, Baby!


    I wasn''t wearing Susan the stealth suit, though. When I''d gone to the Gun Runners to re-supply and re-arm, I picked up a recement chest piece for the riot gear that had been destroyed when my arm got cut off. This one wasn''t a gift like the first set of armor Raphael gave to help me deal with Alice McLafferty and Gloria Van Graff, and it cost a fucking <em>fortune</em>. Buying all the munitions to re-arm all the hidden weapons in my Corvega didn''t cost as much as that single piece of armor. The bill was absolutely astronomical, I just want to make that clear.


    Ah well. Still worth it. The Gun Runners do good work, after all. The armor would provide better protection than Sue if things got loud... and as I took point, leading us into the narrow entrance to Red Rock Canyon, I was certainly expecting them to get <strong>very</strong> loud.


    How did I know we were even in the right spot? Well, there were a couple of clues. The first was the simple fact that all the rocks in this canyon had a sort of burnt reddish-orange color to them. Would definitely fit for a ce called Red Rock. The second were all the totems and war banners lining the canyon entrance. Pictures of yellow skulls with thin ck mustaches and wide, bloodshot eyes staring out from underneath red horned helmets, lined with fur. Vaguely human-shaped effigies made out of scraps and topped with a brahmin skull, painted red. All very pseudo-Mongolian, Khan-like. That sort of thing.


    But the thing that clinched it most of all, however, was what I saw as we walked further into the slowly widening canyon. Conformation of what ED-E had told me he''d seen only moments before.


    Everything was on fire.


    "What the..." Cass stared wide eyed at the spectacle before us. And I couldn''t really me her. All around us, at everyyer of the multi-tiered canyon, I could see tents... or, more urately, the zing <em>remnants</em> of tentspletely consumed by me. There were more totems like the one I''d seen mounted to the entrance, except these were <em>also</em> on fire. Enormous, dirty clouds of oily ck smoke were billowing and swirling into the sky from every nook and cranny above us in the canyon. And the smell... was <em>awful</em>.


    "What... what happened here?" Veronica asked softly. I shook my head slowly, taking the time to scan the area.


    "Don''t know," I grunted out. "But whatever it was, it happened recently. Whoever set these fires might still be around, so stay alert." From behind me, I heard Arcade let out a strained, wavering sigh.


    "Where is everyone?" he asked. That''s when I realized, he was right: all the buildings around may have been on fire, but there were no bodies anywhere. No wounded Khans. No screams. Here and there would be a bit of blood - splotches against the canyon wall and on the ground. They were mostly red, but swiftly turning ck in the sun and the heat.


    I took a long sniff of the foul air. I grimaced as realization dawned. I had a feeling that I knew <em>exactly</em> why this fire smelt so bad. And if that was true... it likely meant that nobody got out of here alive. A smell that bad could only reallye from burning bodies - a <em>lot</em> of burning bodies. Piles of them...


    "ED-E, you readin'' me?" I asked, hitting the transmit button on my Pip Boy. There was a short burst of static.


    "What do you need, Friend_Courier?" ED-E''s voice poured out of the speaker. I looked up, and saw the eyebot circling in the air high above us.


    "What''s it look like from up above? Do you see anyone around?" I decided against just asking if he saw any bodies. There was a short pause, and for a while all I heard over the speaker was the faint buzzing from ED-E''s anti-gravity generators, mingling with the dull roar of the zing inferno all around us. I scanned the area again, but still... nothing.


    "No, Friend_Courier. Aside from yourself, Cassidy_Rose, Steel_Veronica, and Remnant_Arcade, there are no living human life signs that I can detect within this area. I am, however, picking uprge clusters of rapidly oxidizing carbon-based organic matter in -" ED-E paused, and there was a single beep I couldn''t understand. "Hold. There is something el-" A shorter pause. "There! Quickly! Above you!"


    I halted in my tracks and looked up, just like he said... looming above my right was an enormous sheer cliff face. Fire and smoke was pouring off the top, but there was a surprisingly clear patch of sky directly above me... and then something moved along the top edge of the cliff. I couldn''t quite make out what it was, at first, but then I saw the form seem to materialize out of thin air. Even from this distance, it was obvious...


    Completely ck, like light itself was scared to go near her. A pair of horns on her head. And three yellow eyes looking down on us.


    "Oh no..." I breathed as the bottom of my stomach dropped out. "Oh no oh no oh no no no no no..." I hefted up the anti-materiel rifle in my hands, nted my feet, chambered a round, and brought the scope up to my eye so I could get a better shot.


    "Shea? What''s -" Cass began.


    "Run!" I turned away from the scope briefly to look at the three of them behind me. "GO! Back to the car! <strong>NOW! </strong>You <strong>cannot</strong> handle her!" I looked back down the scope, put the assassin standing above us squarely in my crosshairs, and squeezed the trigger. I could feel the ground beneath my feet shake from the rifle''s kickback, and huge clouds of dust swirled around me. Half a secondter the edge of the cliff exploded in a burst of fire and shattered rock.


    After my brush with the deathws, I''d decided that a few high explosive rounds for the big gun might prove useful.


    I pulled my eye away from the scope, to get a wider view. The edge of the cliff was starting to crumble... but a ck, shadowy figure was hurtling through the air away from it. And she was falling <em>down</em>... wait, no. She wasn''t <em>falling. </em>She was <em>diving</em>! That... that''s crazy! That has to be a height of at least seven stories! There''s just... there''s no way she could-


    Doesn''t matter. I reset the bolt as fast as I could to chamber another round, and brought the scope back to my face; she was indeed hurtling towards us, <em>face-first</em>, like she just jumped off a high dive at a swimming pool. I did my best to level the shot as quickly as I could, squeezed the trigger... the rifle''s kickback was just as intense as before, but it wasn''t followed by a second explosion higher up. I''d fucking shot wide! She reached into her outfit for something, and then quickly syed out her arms in front of her. Had she just throw-


    All around me, the ground erupted. They weren''t huge explosions, designed to maim or kill; these seemed like distractions. I tried to chamber another round as quickly as I could, and realized that she''d set off half a dozen <em>smoke bombs </em>all around me. Swirls of red, blue, purple, and green smoke surrounded me, obscuring everything - and then something swift and heavy and ck cut through the smoke andnded on the ground in front of me with a heavy thud.


    "No more warnings," the filtered female voice echoed all around me. I finished chambering the round and brought the rifle to my shoulder, but the ck figure was far too quick. By the time I finished squeezing the trigger, she was already <em>holding onto the barrel</em>. The end of the gun exploded in me behind her as the round was fired at nothing; the smoke was slightly blown away, but there was far too much of it to dispersepletely. The assassin looked me square in the face with her three yellow eyes. For the brief half-second that she was close enough, I was able to clearly see that the horns on either side of her head were actually a pair of some kind of high-tech antennae. I didn''t have time to absorb any more details than that, because that''s when she yanked the anti-materiel rifle out of my hands - and then immediately hit me across the side of the head with the stock.


    I stumbled backward slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected force behind the hit. I nted my back foot, and reached into my duster for the Ranger Sequoia - but I wasn''t quick enough. By the time I thumbed back the hammer, a pair of boots came flying out of nowhere to kick me square in the chest like I''d been hit by a semi truck. I was thrown off my feet and flew backwards, tumbling end over end through the swirling multicolored smoke. The Ranger Sequoia was knocked out of my hand and flew off somewhere.


    I was upside down. I knew that much. Above me, I could see ground screaming past me, inches from my head. I reached down with my cybeic hand, and dug my fingers into the rocky ground as hard as I could; the rock buckled and cracked beneath my fingers, leaving deep gashes. It was enough to slow me down, and gave me just enough time and leverage to right myself andnd both feet behind me on the ground. I looked up at the mass of swirling smoke - about 10 feet away - and saw the ck-d, three-eyed assassin burst out of the miasma rushing straight at me.


    I bolted to my feet, grabbing my sawn off shotgun off my left hip, and pulling a chunk of rock from the ground with my right. She wasing at me with... a pair of knives? I didn''t have time to question. I just had time to aim.


    I let off a burst from the shotgun, but I shot wide; she deflected my arm up and away from her before I could aim properly. I let go of the shotgun in midair, and moved back to dodge out of the way; she tried to hit me with a downward sh. I grabbed the shotgun with my cybeic hand, and tried to hit her with the shell in the other barrel; again, she deflected it just as I pulled the trigger, knocking the shotgun out of my hand. She spun in ce, and raised a leg, trying to roundhouse kick me in the face-


    And her foot was stopped when my cybeic hand grabbed her leg.


    "Not this time," I snarled, and mustered as much strength as I could with the robot arm; I grabbed her leg with both hands, lifted her up over my head, and mmed her back down into the ground as hard as I could. She hit the ground with a rather satisfying thud, followed swiftly by her <em>other</em> footing out of nowhere and smacking me across the side of the head.


    I shook my vision clear just in time to see her pushing up off the ground with her hands and flipping back onto her feet. In a sh, she threw a pair of knives my way. I brought my arms up to protect my face, and I heard the knives bounce against metal, sending a shower of sparks everywhere. One of the knives hit my Pip Boy, and the other hit my metal arm.


    I reached for Roscoe and That Gun, hoping that she wouldn''t throw any more knives my way in the time it took to draw them... and then a super sledge came out of nowhere and hit the ground with a crash, sending chunks of rock flying up into the air.


    Veronica had hit the spot where the assassin had been standing, but the woman in ck was just too fast. The assassin ced a foot on the head of the high-tech sledgehammer, grabbed the handle, flipped upside down, and wrapped her calves around Veronica''s face. Within seconds, Veronica was thrown to the ground and disarmed. She lifted up the hammer, looking all primed and ready to smash in the face of the prone Veronica lying at her feet.


    "FUCK OFF!" I shouted as I hit the assassin with a running tackle, burying the elbow of my cybeic arm square in her back. She dropped the super sledge and flew through the air several feet, and came to a stop several feet away, crashing face first into the rocks. I reached down to help Veronica back up on her feet with my right hand, and aimed That Gun at the assassin with my left and fired off round after round...


    How the fuck was she on her feet already? Even with VATS helping me, I don''t think any of the shots were hitting. Five rounds in That Gun burned through quick, so I dropped it and grabbed Roscoe; 13 rounds, and that was empty too. When I dropped the magazine, she finally stopped running. Did she think I was out of ammo? She skidded to a halt, faced me, and pulled a wicked curved dagger off her back with her left hand.


    Boom.


    She toppled backward in a shower of sparks. Cass was advancing on the assassin to my left with the AA-12 leveled and firing over and over again. I reloaded Roscoe, and fired at the assassin as well; the bullets seemed to be staggering her, but it didn''t actually seem to be doing any damage. The rounds and shotgun pellets were sparking off her armor, and bouncing away. She reached up through the hail of fire, and ripped something away from her face. It appeared to be some sort of mangled box, which she tossed to the side.


    Cass stopped firing. She must have been out of ammo. I knew Roscoe was out once again. The assassin looked at me with only two eyes now - yellow and angry looking. She looked over at me, then at Cass, and then at Veronica (who had grabbed the super sledge and was holding firm). I started to reach for another magazine.


    BANG!


    I blinked my eyes, and clutched at my ears. Fuck-mothering shbangs! Son of a bitch! I shook my head and tried to concentrate through the deafening shriek in my ears. I was seeing double, and everything was still suffering some blurry afterimages but I was able to make out enough: the assassin was making a break for it.


    Fuck that! She''s not getting away that easily! I started running as fast as I could, focusing intently on the figure ahead of me, forcing my eyes to clear. Pretty soon, it wasn''t white blurs I was seeing. It was red. Or were thoseser sts I saw streaking out of the sky from above me? That must be ED-E, trying to give chase. She slipped into the canyon, and I was only seconds behind. She jumped over my car with a single leap... and kept running. What, did she think she was going to get away on foot?


    I didn''t question it. I vaulted over the hood and practically jumped into the seat. The engine rumbled to life, and I mmed into reverse. I looked over my shoulder as the car got up to speed; the assassin was still running. I twisted the wheel, spinning the car in j-turn. As soon as I was driving forward, I flipped open the safety cover protecting the grenade machinegun button. The two grenadeunchers mounted above the wheel arches popped up with a nk.


    And then something really unexpected happened.


    She lifted up her right arm as she ran - somehow running slightly faster than my car - and after punching in something on the super-advanced Pip Boy she wore on her right arm, a shape materialized in the air directly ahead of her. Whatever it was, it was hovering slightly above the desert brush and grasses. Like her armor, it was matte ck, and looked... it looked like a motorcycle without any wheels. She hopped into the seat, and it immediately took off like a rocket. It took no time at all to pick up speed, and practically flew along the ground, hovering at a height of about a foot and a half,plete with jet-looking things in the bottom, each one spewing out some kind of blue energy.


    A hovercycle. She was riding a motorcycle turned into an anti-gravity hovercraft.


    What.


    I shook it off, and mmed my thumb down on the fire button. The car shook as the grenade machineguns fired off grenade after grenade over in her general direction. The terrain ahead of me exploded in disced dirt and fire, and momentarily, she waspletely obscured by the explosions...


    And then the hovercycle was in the air, flying <em>above</em> the explosions. She soared through the sky for a few seconds... and then she disappeared, bike and all, with a crackle of electricity. I braked hard, bringing my Corvega to an abrupt halt and getting out; a cloud of dust swirled around me as I looked to the sky.


    All it did was remind me how badly my eyes were still watering from the shbang.


    "What''s the damage," I said, returning to the spot in the canyon where Cass and Veronica were still licking their wounds. The multicolored smoke from the grenades was finally starting to disperse, but traces of it were still lingering. Veronica was sitting on the ground, holding her head, and Cass was helping her. "Report," I barked out forcefully.


    "The fuck if I know!" Cass said, standing up. Her AA-12 was still slung across her chest, but didn''t have a magazine. "Who the fuck <strong>was</strong> that, anyway?"


    "The assassin..." Veronica said, shaking her head and trying to get on her feet; I reached down and helped her up again. She nodded at me with a half-hearted smile. "The one who killed Orris, and wiped out the cazadores trying to kill us when you got lost in the Sierra Madre. It''s the same one, isn''t it?" I nodded back.


    "Yeah. Almost certainly," I looked around at our battleground. There were a whole hell of a lot of discarded weapons and spent shell casings. I lifted up my Pip-Boy arm, and hit the transmit button. "ED-E, have you been able to find her?"


    "Negative, Friend_Courier," ED-E''s electronic voice wafted out of the stereo. "Whatever method of stealth this individual is using, it is quite beyond my sensors capability to detect. It would exin why I was not able to sense her presence until after the cloaking device was intentionally disabled."


    "Damnit. Alright, well... she''s probably long gone, but keep looking, just in case." I turned back to Veronica. "You alright?" She grimaced and shrugged.


    "Yeah. Bitch just wounded my pride. Gave me a hell of a headache when she mmed my face in the rocks. Why would she be here of all ces?"


    "I don''t know..." I walked over to one of the more noticeable pieces left from the fight: the mangled box that came off the assassin''s face when Cass shot at her. I picked it up and turned it around in my hands. It looked like a pair of goggles with three lenses, almost like a night-vision kit or something. I looked up. Even with the oily smoke clouds still spewing up into the air, I could clearly see the sun beating down brightly. Something wasn''t adding up. Quite a few somethings weren''t adding up, in fact...


    "Maybe we should ask someone who might know something..." I said finally, tossing aside the mangled wreck to join the rest of the discards littering the canyon floor.


    "Who?" Cass and Veronica spoke in unison. I walked right past them - straight at the man who''d been standing in the same ce, stiff as a board, since the fighting started. He was staring nkly at nothing in particr with a ck-jawed open mouth. He was limply holding onto the sma rifle with one hand, and it was hanging from his fingers at his side.


    "Arcade," I grabbed his shoulder, trying to shake him out of his stupor. He seemed to be in shock, so I shook him some more. "C''mon man, snap out of it."


    "That''s... that''s not..." he muttered to himself. I let out a frustrated grunt, spun him around to face me, and gave him a soft backhand... with my <em>cybeic</em> hand. So, who knows how soft it actually was. That seemed to do the trick. He wasn''t giving the thousand-yard stare anymore, and instead was reaching up to clutch his jaw. "OW! What the -"


    "Alright Arcade, c''mon," I grabbed him by the edge of hisbat armor and held firm. "Start talking. What do you know?" Arcade looked like a molerat caught in the headlights, seconds before a wheel turned it into a pancake.


    "I... I don''t..." Arcade stammered out. I grabbed him by the top of his head, and stared at him with the most intimidating scowl I could muster. He let out a surprised squeak, and dropped the sma riflepletely.


    "Now is <strong>NOT</strong> the time to be fuckin'' around with me, Arcade," I snarled in his face. I shoved him away and let go of his hair. "No more secrets! What. Do. You. Know?" He stumbled backward, but kept his footing... mostly. He looked up, straightened his sses, and tried desperately topose himself.


    "That... uh..." He gulped loudly. "That armor pattern she was wearing. I recognize where it came from. I didn''t make the connection earlier, because your descriptions didn''t have enough detail, but that... that''s definitely..." He ran a hand along the top of his head, still clearly distraught.


    "What?" Veronica asked, definitely interested now. Arcade looked over at Veronica with a very, <em>very </em>worried expression on his face, and then looked back to me with renewed resolve.


    "Enve." He said, finally. "That was an Enve pattern armor. Or at least the helmet was. The suit wasn''t... I''ve seen stealth suits, but nothing that... that looked way too advanced, even for them. I don''t think..."


    "<em>Enve?</em>" Veronica asked in a hushed whisper, advancing on Arcade slowly. "How on <em>earth</em> would you know <em>that</em>?"


    "Isn''t it obvious?" Cass chimed in from behind us; all three of us turned to look at her, as she casually reloaded her shotgun. "Oh, c''mon. If <strong>I </strong>could figure this out, then it should be easy for you chuckleheads. I bet he used to <strong>be</strong> part''ve the Enve, am I right?" Veronica let out a short, sharpugh.


    "No... no, that''s not possible," Veronica looked back and forth between Cass and Arcade like they were both crazy. "Thest time the Enve were seen in the wastnd was... like... 40 years ago."


    "34, actually," Arcade coughed, pushing his sses further up his nose. I decided to ask the obvious question when nobody else seemed to.


    "Arcade, how old are you?"


    "35." He looked at the ground and cleared his throat. "And... no. I... <em>personally</em> was never a member of the Enve. As far as I know, thest holdouts stopped fighting the NCR and the Brotherhood around the time I took my first baby steps."


    "You were brought up by one of those holdouts, weren''t you?" I said, everything falling into ce. Arcade nodded somberly.


    "You hypocritical son of a BITCH!" Veronica yelled, stamping her feet angrily. "using the Brotherhood of being genocidal, when all this time, you had ties to the ENCLAVE, the most vicious, genocidal vestige of the Pre-War government!"


    "Hey, V, hold on-" I started to say, inching myself between Arcade and Veronica, hoping to stop a fight before it started.


    "I know what you''re going to say," Veronica snorted. "And... and... I''m not going to... As much as I''m gritting my teeth right now, I''m <strong>not</strong> going to try and beat Arcade to a bloody <strong>pulp</strong> for his dishonest hypocrisy."


    "Okay..." I said cautiously. Veronica continued, pointing at me.


    "But you need to understand. You need know what the Enve tried to do 40 years ago." Veronica shouted at me angrily. "FEV Curling-13. That was the codename of their <strong>doomsday weapon</strong>. A viral agent based on the Forced Evolutionary Virus, and dispersed in aerosol form. It was capable of killing indiscriminately, and the Enve were nning on deploying it against everyone in the wastnd. <strong>EVERYONE</strong>. Why? Because everyone who didn''te from the Oil Rig - everyone who wasn''t <em>ENCLAVE</em> - was a <strong>mutant</strong> in their eyes! They tried to <em>kill everyone </em>and damn near seeded! Every member of the Brotherhood knows that story, either because they fought the Enve first-hand 40 years ago, or learned it from the people who fought them!"


    "YES," Arcade finally shouted out over Veronica''s ranting. "My parents were Enve. I can''t change that. I can''t change who gave birth to me or where I came from. And yes, the Enve did terrible things! Terrible, horrible things... but an organization is more than just the leaders responsible. There were good people in the ranks. Honest, decent patriots, who felt that the Enve... they were just trying to do what they felt was right."


    "Oh, yeah?" Veronica sneered. She didn''t sound convinced.


    "Yes. And you know? I didn''t think there were any good people in the Brotherhood for a very long time. I thought they were just as bad as the Enve. And then I met you, Veronica. You managed to disabuse me of several of my preconceptions. And you showed me that, like the Enve, there are still good people in bad organizations."


    The air between us was silent for a very long while after Arcade said that. The only thing any of us heard were the creaking embers of the fires all around us finally starting to flicker away.


    "Why didn''t you tell us any of this before now?" I asked. Arcade actuallyughed.


    "Yes, well, believe it not, telling people about my ties to a genocidal para-military organization, linked to the government responsible for ending the world? Not really all that high on my list of priorities." Arcade looked around. "But that''s not... <em>my </em>association with the Enve isn''t what''s important right now."


    "It isn''t?" Cass asked.


    "If that assassin was really and truly a member of the Enve..." Arcade shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Well. That answers one question..."


    "...and raises dozens more." I finished for him. Arcade nodded.


    "It doesn''t seem possible..." Arcade looked very worried. "But if she''s truly working for the cause of the Enve - even if she''s just a rogue element, still fighting the same war from 40 years ago - then that''s going to cause some serious problems for everyone in the Mojave." Veronicaughed, picking up her discarded super sledge.


    "Tell me something I don''t know," sheughed again, setting the giant mallet on her shoulder.


    I paused as a perverse idea popped into my head, and I briefly wondered if it was entirely appropriate. Probably not. But I decided to say it anyway.


    "I had sex with a hologram in the Big Empty," I said, pulling a straight face. Everyone stared at me like I''d gone insane. I couldn''t me them, so I shrugged it off. "Hey, you said to tell you something you didn''t know."


    "That... is true. I... didn''t... I didn''t know that." Several separate and rather distinct emotions - all variations on shock, amazement, disgust, and thinly-veiled interest, to name a few - all tried to manifest themselves on her face simultaneously. All it ended up doing was making her look like she was having a stroke. "Probably could''ve gone the <em>rest of my life</em> without knowing that particr factoid." She finally managed to squeak out after shaking a few facial muscles free.


    "The point is," Arcade rallied himself quickest of anyone. "At least... I <em>hope </em>the point is that we''re not going to figure this out standing around like idiots in a dead canyon where everything is on fire."


    "Agreed," I said, reaching down to pick up Arcade''s discarded sma rifle. I tossed it to him, and he caught it in midair. "Let''s grab all the weapons and whatever else might be useful..." I found the mangled goggles, and picked them up again. "...and head back to the 38. We can regroup there, and maybe... just maybe we can try and figure out what the fuck is going on."


    The four of us worked in silence for a few minutes until we were sure we''d grabbed everything. I was thest to leave, unable to keep myself from staring at the still burning wreckage of the tents all around the canyon. As much as I wanted to feel sorry for the Great Khans, and as disappointed as I was at not getting the chance to talk to them, and finding out their side of the story... I couldn''t help but shake a feeling of immense dread and unease.


    Dozens of questions were swirling around the inside of my head, bothering me. But the one that stood out in my mind and was bugging me most of all? I''d seen the weapons she''d used in the past. Energy weapons that made myser rifles look like squirt guns. Why hadn''t she pulled out any of <em>those</em> and just turned the four of us to ash?


    Something had gone seriously, badly wrong with the world. I was more confused than relieved about why I wasn''t dead.

 Chapter 114: Watch Your Six

    Chapter 114: Watch Your Six


    By the time we got back to the 38, it was just after noon.


    While everyone else was busy getting cleaned up after the fight, I was sitting in the kitchen. The smashed up remains of the three-eyed goggles were sitting in a tiny heap on the table in front of me. I wasn''t entirely certain what I hoped to aplish. I downed a swig of the beer in my hand, and went straight back to staring at the pile of scrap.


    I was fairly certain that I didn''t have the tools in the Lucky 38 to try and repair and/or reverse engineer it, and based on how advanced it was, it was entirely possible that I wouldn''t be able to find the proper tools <em>anywhere </em>in the Mojave. I pulled the Big Mountain Transportalponder! out of my duster, and set it on the table. I could always take it to The Sink, see what Jeeves and The Think Tank made of it. I mean, that would certainly fulfill the promise I''d made to them to bring pieces of the outside world to them...


    I took another swig of beer, and suddenly I heard a knock on the kitchen door.


    "Hey," Cass said, leaning against the doorframe. "Busy in here?"


    "Not really," I leaned back in my chair. "What''s up?" Cass sauntered into the room with a shrug, and kicked a chair out from under the table; she sat down with her arms folded on top of the chair''s back.


    "Just thinkin'' about stuff. Y''know." I nodded. Before she got a chance to exin exactly what ''stuff'' she was thinking about, I heard a buzzing from the open window. Secondster, ED-E flew into the room, and hovered over the table.


    "Greetings, Friend_Courier," ED-E turned to look at Cass. "Oh! And hello to you, too, Cassidy_Rose." ED-E turned back to me. "You will be pleased to know that the data transfer was a sess."


    "Excellent. Yes Man has everything you recorded from Red Rock Canyon?" ED-E bobbed in midair, nodding at me.


    "That is correct, Friend_Courier. PDQ-88b_YesMan now has ess to all logged sensor data concerning query: Enve_Shadow. It is not much, but I certainly hope that whatever data collected can be of assistance."


    "It''s gonna be a big help, ED-E, I''m sure of it," I patted the side of ED-E''s chassis, and he let out an atonal hum. "Thanks, bud."


    "Wait, what''s this ''bout Yes Man?" Cass asked. "I only caught, like, half of that."


    "It''s pretty simple, really. I''m gonna see if I can get Yes Man to help me find that Enve assassin." Cass narrowed her eyes, looking incredibly skeptical.


    "How?"


    "You know how I told you about thesers mounted on top of the Lucky 38 that House used to shoot down some of the iing nukes when the world ended?" Cass nodded. "Well, I took a look at them earlier. Seems that the simple passage of time, andck of proper maintenance means that I won''t be able to get thesers working again anytime soon. However, the <em>sensor array</em> up there seems to still be in pretty decent shape."


    "Sensor array?" Cass asked with a raised eyebrow.


    "Mmhmm. I figure, if the sensors could track those iing nukes, then we might be able to use them to track this Enve assassin. With a bit of tweaking and fine tuning, at least." I patted the eyebot once again. "ED-E here, the resourceful little rascal that he is, managed to record the fight, and took some sensor data."


    "Even so, I do not believe that we will be able to track Enve_Shadow while she is behind a stealth field," ED-E said, hovering over the table. "Addendum: ording to PDQ-88b_YesMan, the sensor clustercks sufficient power to operate at peak efficiency."


    "Wait, it''s not getting enough juice? That could be a serious problem..." I muttered. "How much power does it need?"


    "The sensor cluster is currently receiving, with a +/- 2% margin for error, only 26.289% of the necessary power to operate at peak efficiency. Diminishing returns is present. Exact readings will be limited to within a 10.4607 km radius, with increasingly inexact data gathered at greater distances."


    "Damn," I sighed. And it seemed like such a good n, too. "Ah well. Better than nothing, right?"


    "Y''know, there''s probably an easier way to find out Enve stuff," Cass said.


    "Believe me, I already tried that," I said, ncing over at ED-E and pointing a thumb at him. "He''s a piece of Enve tech, and I asked if he might know anything earlier."


    "Several sections of my databanks have been locked off behind partitions, Cassidy_Rose," ED-E said, hovering in midair and beeping at Cass. "The partitions are known elements within data blocks, but I am currently unable to ess the files within. Unrestricted ess will only be granted if certain key words and/or phrases are uttered." Cass stared at the eyebot nkly, so I stepped in to try and trante.


    "Remember how ED-E spouted off a few recordings of his creator, Whitley, a while back? Turns out when that happened, somebody said some kind of keyword to unlock it. So, he can''t ess anything about the Enve unless we say some magic mystery words."


    ''That actually wasn''t what I was talking about," Cass said. "I meant Arcade."


    "Oh, don''t worry," I said with a slight nod. "I''m <strong>definitely</strong> gonna talk to him. There''s quite a lot that he and I need to sort out." Cass nodded.


    "Good." Cass gripped the edge of the chair, and stayed quiet for a while, staring at the goggles on the table, just like I had. I nodded, reaching for my beer to take onest drink. She looked pensive, and I <em>thought</em> I knew what she was thinking about. I mean, I was doing quite a lot of thinking myself, all of it centered on who that Enve assassin is, and what she''s doing here in the Mojave. What is her game? What is she after? And most worryingly of all... was she actually going toe after me, now that she''d said ''no more warnings?'' How safe was the Lucky 38, really? All of these things were weighing down on my mind like a twenty-ton weight sitting on my face.


    Of course, as I was at the very apex of trying to pour the amber liquid down my gullet, that''s when Cass made her move.


    "So... sex with a hologram, huh?"


    I choked. I did my best to keep the beer from spraying everywhere, but all it ended up doing was sshing against my face and dribbling down over my front. Meanwhile, Cass just leaned back, rocking her chair andughing like a little kid.


    "Aw, fer fuck sake, Cass!" I managed to finally get out between splutters and bouts ofughter. Annoying and inconvenient as it was, the timing was perfect. "Man, warn me when you''re gonna do that!"


    "What, and ruin all my fun?" Cass grinned broadly, poking me in the arm. "You''ve got the best expressions when y''get flummoxed." I shook my head andughed. Cass leaned forward again, and tipped her hat back to get a better look at me. "Seriously, though... is it true? Or were you just tryin'' to break the tension? Cuz if that was the case, mission fuckin'' aplished. I think V''s still sportin'' a thousand yard stare."


    "No, no... I was tellin'' the truth," I wiped away thest of the beer from my face, and tossed the empty bottle over my shoulder into the sink. "...well, and I was trying to break the tension, too. Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction." Cass was smiling at me and shaking her head, making it a bit difficult to get a read on what she was thinking.


    "You are a fuckin'' piece of work, y''know that Shea?" Cassughed again. "Screwin'' a <em>hologram</em>..."


    "What, you jealous?" I asked. Cass nodded.


    "Little bit, yeah," she said, resting her chin on her hands, and looking up at the ceiling. "I mean... I''ve never really <em>thought</em> ''bout it before. Didn''t think it was really possible. But now I know it is, I''m havin'' a hard time <em>not </em>thinkin'' about it..."


    I felt a slight pang of disappointment, and I wasn''t entirely certain why.


    "Well, I''d offer to introduce you," I leaned back in my chair, andced my fingers behind my head. "But I think one of the prerequisites is being lobotomized." Cass shook her head and chuckled again.


    "I think I''ll pass."


    A burst of steam hit my face when the bathroom door opened. That must have been one <em>hell </em>of a hot shower. Nevertheless, I stood my ground as the door opened and a very damp, towel-d Arcade stepped out. For a moment, he stood there confused - and then, when he put his sses on... he <em>still</em> looked confused.


    "You''re gonna drain Lake Mead if you''re not careful," I said as he clearly tried to process what was happening. "I mean, I know steam is supposed to be good for your skin, but that''s just ridiculous."


    "Sheason! Uh... hi?" He stammered, trying (and failing) to regainposure. "What can... uh... what can I do for you?"


    "I had an idea," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "That Enve holdout that brought you up. Do you know where they are?" Arcade blinked several times, as if he didn''t understand the question. Slowly, however, he nodded.


    "Uh... yes? I mean... I was going to... why do you want to know?"


    "Because we know less than nothing about this Enve assassin. We don''t even know if she''s <em>actually </em>Enve or not. I don''t want to be caught with my pants down, next time we run into her."


    "The only person here caught with his pants down is <em>me</em>," Arcade said, finally able tounch a bit of snark my way.


    "I would''ve told you earlier, but you jumped in the shower before I had a chance toe up with this scheme. Point is, we need some answers, and we need them fast. The best ce to start, I think, is with people who used to <em>be </em>Enve. Wouldn''t you agree?"


    "Well, you''ve already met one," Arcade said, adjusting the towel around his waist. "Doc Henry up in Jacobstown." I thought back to when we''d visited the Super Mutant lodge up in the mountains, and several things about our visits with the good doctor suddenly made a great deal more sense. "I can take you to them, if all you want to do is talk. And, admittedly, I was going to introduce you to them, anyway. But..." he cleared his throat, looked down, and then looked back up at me. "If you don''t mind, do you think I could put some pants on first?"


    Fifteen minutester, my Corvega was driving down Vegas Boulevard, past The Strip''s front gate and into Freeside. ED-E was flying along in the air above my car, keeping watch.


    "So," I said finally, turning to Arcade sitting next to me in the passenger seat. "You wanted to introduce me to the Enve squad anyway?" Arcade nodded. "Why? What for?"


    "Been doing a lot of thinkingtely." Arcade began. That seems to be going around, I muttered under my breath. "About Hoover Dam. About the future of Vegas... and I think we''re going to need as much help as we can get if we''re to have any hope of pushing back both Caesar and the NCR, and keep Vegas independent. The Remnants could be just the ace in the hole that we need to turn the tide when it matters."


    "The Remnants?" I asked.


    "It''s just something Captain Kreger kept saying when he finally realized the Enve wasn''ting back. ''Nobody left except us Remnants.'' After a while, it just sort of stuck. Plus, he thought it might sound less contentious than the original name for the unit: the Devil''s Brigade." I snorted out augh.


    "Yeah, probably a good idea," I said. "Are they that good?" Arcade nodded.


    "Yes. They''re an exceptionally skilledbat unit, with ess to highly advanced technology. And they''re <em>survivors</em>. They just... they don''t have a cause anymore. Most of them are patriots, through and through - especially Orion. When the Enve fell, they lost their g. They lost their way. The five of them have spent thest few decades coping with that loss with varying degrees of sess... but I think that if we can give them all a g they can rally behind with Vegas, we might be able to get them on our side."


    "Hmm..." I mulled over what Arcade just said, as I pulled us into a side street, just off Freemont. "Well, if that''s true, how do you think they''ll react to the news that there''s an assassin running around who may-or-may-not be working for the Enve''s cause?"


    "Honestly?" Arcade sighed. "I don''t think you should tell them. Not all of them, anyway. You definitely <strong>should not</strong> say anything about the assassin to Orion. If this person is really another Enve holdout, and hasn''t just found a stealth suit and some weapons... then it screams ''ck Ops.'' The only person in the squad who might have even had the clearance to know about it is Captain Kreger. Well... aside from my father, at least. But he''s been dead for years, so we definitely can''t ask him."


    "Great..." I muttered, pulling the car to a stop and getting out. Arcade followed with a rather concerned expression on his face. "At this rate, we''ll never find out anything about little miss invisible."


    "More important, what are we doing here?" Arcade followed me out of the alley I''d parked in, and we emerged out onto the street, right in front of a very familiar store. "I thought we were going to get straight to business."


    "What, didn''t I tell you?" I asked. "I thought we''d stop by Mick & Ralph''s first. I don''t know how long finding, and subsequently meeting, all these old warhorses is going to take, so I wanted to pick up some supplies first for a little... project I wanted to work on." Since we were now (technically) in public, I decided to pick my words very carefully, avoiding things like ''Enve,'' ''Assassin,'' ''Remnants,'' or ''Teleporter.''


    "Does this have something to do with the hardware overhauls you mentioned the other day?" Arcade asked. I smiled broadly at him, and didn''t say a word. Arcade shook his head. "I''m not sure whether I should be intrigued or terrified."


    "Both would be an eptable answer."


    "I did not think I was going toe back here again anytime soon," I said as I scanned the view beyond the windshield. Arcade shrugged.


    "Sometimes, the truth is stranger than fiction." I couldn''t help but chuckle at Arcade unintentionally mimicking me from earlier.


    Novac looked almost exactly how I remembered it from when I came this wayst time... whenever it was. It couldn''t have been more than a month and a half ago, but so much had gone on in such a short time, that it felt like it had been six years.


    And yet, despite my confusion about when Ist set foot in this old motel-turned-frontier town, when I saw that giant dinosaur, holding a giant broken thermometer, and looming over everything, looking out across the desert to the east... it was somehowforting. In an odd sort of way.


    "So, who are we looking for here?" I asked, parking the car near the motel sign. Arcade followed suit, and I waited for him to lead the way. He actually knew where we were going, after all.


    "Daisy Whitman," Arcade said, leading us away from the motel, and over to the abandoned gas station near the south end of town.


    "Alright. So, what does she do?" I asked.


    "Lately, she makes a living by helping the people in town strip old rocket parts and engines, to sell them for scrap. Last time I checked in with her, she joked that the bits and pieces she''d take out were worth more on their own than the whole thing put together."


    "Actually, I meant what she did for the Enve."


    "Oh!" Arcade let out a surprisedugh. "Sorry, I thought you meant... right. Yes, she''s a pilot. But I suppose you can ask her all the details yourself. We''re here."


    The gas station we''d been heading toward reminded me a bit of Gibson''s Garage, about half a mile up the road. It was full of scrap metal, spare parts, and a myriad of tools in varying states of care and repair. Unlike Gibson''s Garage, however, there weren''t any rusted cars, and there definitely weren''t any dogs. Metal shelves crammed full of junk took up the spots where the gas pumps used to be. It was clear they''d been ripped out years ago, but it was unclear when or exactly why. Piles of tires dotted various ces outside the building, and littered all around were piles of tiny toy rockets - they looked almost identical to the rockets that Jason Bright and his ghouls used to go into space.


    "Knock knock," Arcade said, rapping on a metal sheet leaning against one of the garage walls. At the back of the gas station garage, I could see a female figure wearing filthy overalls, heavy work gloves, and a tattered rattan cowboy hat. She was hunched over and working on a motorcycle. An open toolbox was next to her, and she was so engrossed in the work that she didn''t even look up when she responded.


    "Howdy! Be with you in a minute, I''m almost done here..."


    "Aw, c''mon Daisy. I''m sure you can take some time away from your tinkering. After all... it''s fine weather for flying." At that, she immediately looked up from the bike, and tipped her hat back. Her face was very tan and covered in age lines, with strands of white hair poking out from under her hat. She looked at us with wide eyes, and when her gaze settled on Arcade, she broke into a broad smile.


    "Well, I''ll be!" She walked over to us, pulling her gloves off as she approached. In a sh, she was gripping Arcade tightly in a very motherly sort of hug, and started ruffling his hair. "Arcade! I haven''t seen you around in ages! How''ve you been, my little spark?"


    "I''m fine," Arcade said with a smile, pulling himself away slightly. "You''re looking well." Daisy screwed up her face, and let out a "Hmmm..."


    "I''ve seen that look before. You''ve got that serious look on your face again, and that <em>always</em> means trouble. What''s up?"


    "We''re getting the squad back together." Arcade said tly. Daisy took a step back and her mouth dropped open slightly - and then she looked over at me. Before she got a chance to say anything, Arcade continued. "It''s okay. He knows. He''s cool."


    "Hi," I said with a smile, extending my hand, trying my best to be amicable. "I''m Sheason. Arcade and I have been working together for a while." Daisy rallied rather quickly. Surprisingly so, in fact. She smiled at me, and shook my hand.


    "I see. Well, hello there. Former Warrant Officer Whitman, at your service. You can call me Daisy." She paused, suddenly narrowing her eyes at me. "Hang on, you look familiar. Have I seen you around here before?" I thought back to when I''d visited Novacst. I don''t <em>remember</em> running into her... And then she snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute, you''re that guy that helped Manny with the ghoul problem ''bout a month back, right?"


    "Guilty as charged," I said. "Has that rocket of theirse down yet, or are they still up in space?" Daisy blinked a couple of times, looking at me oddly. Thankfully, Arcade changed the subject.


    "I''m sure you''ve heard some rumors about him, even if you haven''t realized." Arcade nted a finger square in the middle of my chest. "<em>He''s</em> the one people have been calling The Courier. We''ve been working on this n to kick the NCR and Legion out of Vegas, and both he and I think The Remnants can help tip things in our favor." Daisy let out a singleugh that echoed all around us.


    "Aw, sweetie," Daisy set a hand on Arcade''s shoulder and smiled at him, shaking her head. "Sometimes, I think you give us old-timer''s too much credit." She shook her head onest time and looked back at me. "So, Arcade told you everything about us, did he?"


    "Well, no," I admitted. "Not <em>everything</em>. But he did say you''re a pilot?" Daisy nodded with another broad smile, increasing the amount of lines on her face.


    "Vertibird pilot. Seventy-one missions, and only lost one chopper."


    "What happened?" I asked. Daisy shrugged.


    "Rotor malfunction over math. Hardnding, but I walked away. Like all us pilots are fond of saying, if you can walk away, it''s a goodnding. And if you can use the kite the next day, it''s an <em>outstanding </emnding."


    "Sounds like a fun day all around," I said. Daisyughed softly. "So, what was it like flying for the Enve?"


    "I was never happier than when I was in the box office," she said with a subtle wag of her eyebrows. I was a bit confused.


    "Box office?" I asked. Daisy snorted out augh.


    "Well, it sure as hell ain''t gonna be a <strong>cock</strong>pit if I''m the one in the hot seat."


    "Fair enough." I like this dirty old woman! She''s got some serious moxie.


    "I was able to go just about anywhere and everywhere, limited only by the fuel I could carry," Daisy started to sound just slightly whimsical, as she waxed poetic about the Glory Days. "There were more than a few missions where I took the scenic route home, just so I could stay in the air. Caught hell for it every time, but totally worth it!" Daisy started to smile, but then it faded away, as if she''d just remembered something unpleasant. Turns out: she had. "I know that some of the things the Enve did were questionable... Believe me, I know. I make no excuses, but really... that''s just the way things were back then." She shrugged. "Figure I''ve done enough good to make up for any past sins, anyhow."


    "Well," I said. "This is a chance to put those piloting skills of yours to use for a very good cause indeed. Interested?"


    "To be honest, it''s been a good long while since I''ve got my hands on the controls of a vertibird, anyway. Likely crash and kill us all," Daisyughed again, still smiling. "Either that, or I''ll sink the copter in the middle of Lake Mead. That ce seems to attract aircraft for some reason..."


    "Does that mean you''re going to help us get the team back together?" Arcade asked.


    "If I get one more chance to fly, sure. If nothing else, I''ll head to the bunker. Be nice to see the team again. It''s been... what, a few years?"


    "About four and a half years, at least," Arcade nodded. Daisy adjusted her hat, and started walking away.


    "Give me a few minutes. I gotta grab some things." And with that, she walked away from the garage, and off toward the motel. As soon as she was out of earshot, Arcade sighed.


    "You alright?" I asked. Arcade nodded.


    "Yeah. It''s just... For as long as I can remember - since my mother died, at least - Daisy''s been the only woman in my life. And she was the only other woman close to my father, too." Arcade folded his arms across his chest, and leaned against the back wall. "She flew him out on a dozen missions, including hisst. I''ve always been close to Daisy, but it''s still <em>strange </em>thinking that I''m <em>recruiting</em> her for this harebrained idea of ours."


    "You two seem pretty close, I can tell," I said. Arcade nodded with a slight smile.


    "There have been a few good men along the way, but lovers make for poor confidants. Daisy... she never had any kids of her own. And then, when my mother died, she took me under her wing. So to speak. She always sort of..." Arcade breathed in through his nose heavily. "She was always there to just <em>listen</em>."


    "Hm... In all seriousness, do you think this is going to work?" Arcade looked up at me, and raised an eyebrow. "You know... bringing them together for onest mission."


    "We won''t have any issues with Daisy, I don''t think. Being in the Enve never really meant much to her. She just... she <em>loved </em>to fly, and it broke her heart to be grounded."


    "Of course it would, that makes sense." I said. "Flying seems like it was an important part of her life. Why <em>wouldn''t</em> she enjoy it?"


    "As screwed up as it sounds, at least she was a part of something." Arcade paused, and suddenly looked very ufortable. "Granted, it was something... admittedly pretty terrible, but it was <em>something.</em> If you spend the first half of your life flying Enve troopers around in a vertibird, I suppose picking over scraps and pre-war rocket parts just doesn''t quitepare."


    "No," I said with a smile. "No, I suppose it doesn''t." The two of us stood at the entrance to the gas station garage in silence for a while. The only sound either of us could hear was the soft hum of ED-E buzzing around over our heads.


    "Alright, boys," Daisy said. Even without looking at her, I could practically <em>hear </em>the smile in her voice. "I think I''m ready to go."


    She was still wearing her cowboy hat, but aside from that, all was different. She wasn''t wearing overalls anymore - jeans and a t-shirt, now. The big thing though, was that she was wearing a bomber jacket in surprisingly good condition. It was leather, and had several patches sewn into it - the only one I could readily identify was the US g on the left arm. One of them was a cartoonish devil head over crossed pitchforks inside an upside-down triangle, another was a vertibird inside a circle, and there were a pair of wings over her left pocket. There were a few more patches on her right arm, but I couldn''t make out any details about them. She had a green duffel bag slung over her shoulder, and there was a pair of mirrored aviators sitting on her nose.


    "That was quick," I said, honestly impressed. I checked the clock on my Pip Boy - she couldn''t have been gone for more than a minute or two, could she? She shook the duffel bag several times, walking past us and over to the motorcycle.


    "That''s what the bug-out bag is for. You don''t get to live as long as I have without bein'' able to get out of any situation in under fifteen minutes. Back in my twenties, I had to take the full fifteen." As she talked, she strapped the duffel bag to a small t tform above the back wheel. She also reconnected something in the engine just underneath the seat.


    "So, where are you heading?" I asked. Daisy straddled the motorcycle and it started up with an angry rumble.


    "What, Arcade didn''t tell you?" She revved the engine a few times. "There''s a bunker up in the mountains to the northwest. That''s the rally point for us Remnants. When d''you think you''re gonna head up?" I looked over to Arcade, and motioned for him to answer. Not the least of which because he was the one in charge of this afternoon''s itinerary.


    "Well, you''re the first one we''ve visited. We''re probably going to go find Orion Moreno next." Daisy''s smile wavered slightly, and she let out a worriedugh.


    "Well, good luck with that, boys." She revved the engine once more, and gave us a salute. "Watch your six out there!"


    Without another word, the motorcycle sped off, leaving a faint trail of dust in her wake as she zoomed down the broken highway.

 Chapter 115: Duality

    Chapter 115: Duality


    My Corvega was barreling down highway 95, ferrying us to our destination, the next member of the Remnants on the list: Orion Moreno. ording to Arcade, this Orion character was living in an old house, in one of the run-down, old world residential neighborhoods east of Vegas. Given the (rtively) long drive, I had plenty of time to ask questions.


    But not about Orion.


    "Hey, Arcade?" I said, casting a ce over to ED-E buzzing along just outside my window. "You remember your parents, right?" Arcade nodded, staring out at thendscape rolling past as he answered.


    "Yes... mostly. My mother, more than my father, really." he admitted, almost absentmindedly. "My father died when I was very young. Before we left Navarro."


    "What was your mom like?" I asked. For a solid minute, Arcade didn''t say anything. He looked at me like I''d lost my marbles. I was getting that a lot,tely. But right before I started to exin why I was interested, he started talking.


    "She was... kind. The thing I remember most about her was her smile. She was always smiling. She was a giving, caring soul... someone without a single cruel bone in her body. I don''t think she had it in her to harm anyone. Not even in self defense."


    "Really?" I asked, a bit incredulously. The world was <em>entirely</em> too dangerous for <em>that</em> to be feasible.


    "You need to understand... she wasn''t a fighter. She wasn''t a soldier. She was a doctor - a trauma surgeon in the Enve medical corps, back when the oil rig was still around. Everyone on the oil rig was pressured into joining the military near the end, and she was no exception, but they couldn''t actually force her to fight. So she became a doctor. A conscientious objector... because all she ever wanted to do was <em>help</em>."


    "Wait, was she part of the squad, or what?" Arcade shrugged.


    "Not really. Not officially. After she married my father, they were stationed together at Navarro. And then, after the oil rig was lost, and the leadership copsed, she sort of fell into the de-facto position of medic. She was actually the one who started Doc Henry on his journey into medicine."


    "I thought he was a doctor before?" I asked. Arcade shook his head.


    "Well... yes and no. When he was with the squad, he was abat engineer. But his specialty was cyber-gic research - cyberdogs, basically - but it wasn''t until after the fall of Navarro that he really started studying medicine. For people, that is" Arcade chuckled softly to himself, rubbing his chin. "And, truth be told, I started studying medicine because of her as well."


    "Sounds like she was a wonderful woman," I said with a nod.


    "She was a huge influence in the direction my life has taken. I got a lot from her. My skill in medicine. The desire to help people. My need to wear sses... my blonde locks," Arcadeughed a little. "Yeah... I''m not sure... I don''t remember enough of my father to know quite how much I got from him. But I definitely know that I owe my mom a lot." Arcade paused, looking over at me again curiously. "Why do you ask?"


    "I never knew my parents," I blurted out, focusing hard on keeping my eyes on the road. "I grew up on the back of a caravan. Whoever they were, they dropped me off one day, and just never came back. So I just... I was just a little curious, that''s all." The inside of my Corvega was silent for a few minutes. Then, I spoke up again. "What happened to her? Your mom, I mean."


    "Cancer," Arcade said tly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that he seemed to be joining me in my ''staring straight ahead at the road'' game. He sighed heavily. "Nothing any of us could do except watch. She just... wasted away."


    "Shit, man," I said. "I didn''t know. I''m sorry." Arcade just kept staring out the window.


    "She deserved better."


    "So, this is the ce?" I asked aloud, as the car slowed to a stop. Arcade nodded.


    Orion''s house was a smallish, squat, one-story building that didn''t look all that special. Like the other houses around it - the ones that were still standing, at least - the outer walls were a mixture of dull brown and dirty grey colors, with broken, boarded up windows set into the sides. The front door was underneath a small awning, and a dirty, moldy, torn up couch that was generally falling apart was sitting on the porch.


    There were only two things that made the house stand out in any way at all, however. One was the gpole in the yard. Two gs were fluttering in the gentle breeze. The one on the top was an American g with a slightly tattered edge. The other g I''d only ever seen once before: it had a yellow background, with a coiled rattlesnake in the center, and underneath I could see the words "DONT TREAD ON ME" written in big bold ck letters. The other was a white, rusty pickup truck parked a few yards away from the house. I couldn''t tell if it was a working truck, or just a wreck.


    "Wait!" As I started to get out of the car, Arcade held out a hand as if to stop me. "Maybe I should... I think I should be the one to talk to him first, alright?"


    "Seriously?" I continued getting out of the car. "C''mon, Daisy was pretty cool. How bad could this guy be?"


    The next thing I knew, I heard the sound of a door being kicked open, and the unmistakable click of a lever action rifle. I didn''t even need to think - Roscoe was already out of his holster and held right above my Corvega''s roof, pointed in the direction of the sound. Slowly, a elderly bespectacled man advanced on me out of the rtive darkness under the porch awning. He had white hair, a pair of jeans, dusty ck boots, a leather jacket, two ammo bandoliers crossing his chest... and a very old looking Winchester rifle was in his hands, pointing straight at me.


    "You''ve got five seconds to get the <strong>fuck</strong> off my property," the old man growled. I didn''t say anything. All I did was mentally curse. I should know better by now than to even say a <em>variation </em>on the phrase "how hard can it be?"


    "Orion!" Arcade shouted, getting out of the car. "It''s okay! For God sakes, it''s me!" He looked at Arcade with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow... but didn''t stop aiming the rifle at me.


    "Arcade..." Orion snorted. "Damn. Been a while. Last I heard, you were with the Followers of the Apocalypse..." He looked over at me; as long as he was aiming that rifle at me, I wasn''t going to lower Roscoe. Suddenly, there was a burst of marching music that broke the tension, and ED-E buzzed down between myself and Orion.


    "Friend_Courier! Are you in need of assistance?" The eyebot bobbed back and forth. Orion looked stunned - but still didn''t lower his rifle.


    "What the... an Enve eyebot?" Orion looked at the three of us with wide eyes. "The fuck are you doing here?"


    "Look we... we just..." Arcade looked over his shoulder at me desperately, then back at Orion. "Can we talk?" For a few seconds, Orion didn''t make a move. And then, slowly, he raised his rifle away from me, and I lowered Roscoe as well.


    "Alright," The rifle clicked as he de-cocked the hammer. "Let''s talk." He turned around and walked back inside; I holstered Roscoe, and let Arcade lead the way.


    "Hey, ED-E? Keep watch above us, alright?" The robot nodded, and flew back up into the sky. We followed the old man down a hall and into a darkened living room.


    "Look, I''m..." Orion growled back at us as we followed him deeper into the house. "I''m sorry about that. I came out this far to get away from everyone, but it seems like every other day, I have to chase some..." He let out another frustrated grunting noise. The hallway emptied us into a small living room, with a few easy chairs, and a cold, darkened firece set into a wall. Near the firece was an old easy chair. He set the old Winchester onto a gun rack over the mantelpiece, and pulled the ammo belts off his chest, setting them on the back of the easy chair.


    "I would''ve written, to give you warning, but I -" Arcade was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a thundering cacophony from somewhere else in the house. I turned to the sound, and saw a veryrge white bulldog with a ck patch over its right eye bound out of a nearby room, barking hysterically. Each one of his paws hit the floorboards with a force that seemed to shake the whole house, and the mutt made a beeline for Arcade.


    "Jackson!" Orion shouted over the barking, slobbering bulldog. "Jackson, calm down boy!" Arcade knelt down to the dog, and started scratching him behind the ears; the dog stopped barking, and instead started panting heavily while wagging his tail. He looked around the room several times - and then, when the mutt''s blue eyes settled on me, he stopped panting. He closed his jowls, showing off his terrific underbite, and tilted his head as he stared directly at me.


    "So," Orion sat down in the easy chair, letting out a tired sigh. "You said you wanted to talk, let''s talk. Why are you here?" He looked over at me, narrowing his eyes. "And who the fuck is this queer?"


    I tensed up reflexively. That was an odd choice of words, considering thepany. I nced over at Arcade subtly. He didn''t seem to react. He simply kept petting Jackson, the dog.


    "Well, this guy is Sheason Fisher," Arcade said, giving the dog onest pat on the head before standing up straight. "People call him the Courier." Orion just raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.


    "Never heard of him," Orion frowned, sinking further back into the easy chair with another grunt.


    "Well, I''ve heard of you," I said. "Arcade told me about the Enve Remnants. The Devil''s Brigade. Not everything, but enough." Orion started at me over the sses sitting on the bridge of his nose, and smiled wickedly at me, letting out a singleugh.


    "That right?" Orion asked.


    "We''re trying to find the old members of the team," Arcade said. "I was hoping that the two of us could convince you guys to bring the squad out of retirement for onest mission." Orion snorted.


    "Really?" Orion looked back over at me again. "Why us? Can''t find yourself any younger mercenaries?"


    "I''m sure we could," I said with a shrug. "But young mercenaries? That would be a mistake." Orion raised an eyebrow, so I continued with my subtle attempt to get this guy on side. "Age and guile will always win over youth and innocence. No one else around has the same equipment and expertise as the Remnants." Orion let out a harrumph.


    "Well, you can thank those NCR faggots for that one," Orion growled out. Again, Arcade did not seem to react. Orion paused, and screwed up his face. "Wait, hang on. This ''onest mission'' you''re talking about - this isn''t gonna be on behalf of the NCR, is it?"


    "Do you have a problem with the NCR?" I asked. Arcade finally reacted to something - by shooting me a look of immense frustration. Clearly, this was the wrong thing to ask.


    "Like you wouldn''t believe," Orion said with a voice full of barely contained rage. "The NCR has a habit of wrecking homes. Control Station ENCLAVE, Camp Navarro... I came out here to the frontier of civilization to get away from all those fucking assholes. Didn''t work out so well. Next thing I know, those fags knock on my door, tell me that I''m squatting in <em><strong>their</strong></em>nd. Never mind that I''d already been living here for years!"


    "Okay, okay, I get it!" I said, holding up my hands in a feeble attempt to get him to stop ranting. "Does that mean you''re noting with the rest of the Remnants?" Orion snorted.


    "Oh no," He got up out of the chair with another straining grunt. "I''lle. But depending on whatever the fuck the n is, I might not be staying." He walked up to me, and stared me straight in the face with a heavily lined face, exaggerated by his intense frown. "I want to make one thing clear, straight off the bat, youngster. There''s not a snowball''s chance in <strong>hell</strong> that you''ll ever find me helping out the NCR in any way. They''ve caused me too much grief over the years."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I nodded. "So... what did you do in the Enve?" Orion raised an eyebrow. "Arcade just told me about your service, and where to find you. He didn''t say anything about your role in the squad." He walked past me, straight to the wall behind me. I turned and saw arge tattered ck g - a POW/MIA g, like I''d seen in Boone''s room - mounted on the wall.


    "I was a heavy weapons trooper," he said, looking at the g. He turned back with another wicked grin, and his arms folded across his chest. "Nothing better than hosing down a target with an excess of bullets andser fire. By the time I got through with things, not much was left standing. Any morons that didn''t run when they saw meing got what they deserved..."


    As he spoke, I leaned in close to get a better look. On the g, I could see several out of ce things sewn and pinned onto the g - sergeant chevrons, medals and ribbons, and a few patches. One of the patches almost matched the devil patch I saw on Daisy''s bomber jacket earlier. There were a pair of ribbon designs on the top and bottom of the ck oval: "SPECIAL FORCES" was written inside the one on the top, and "DEVIL''S BRIGADE" was written in the bottom ribbon. I also saw a small circle with an "E" inside it directly underneath the two crossed pitchforks.


    "Back then, it was war," Orion muttered, bitterly. "If we''d been on the winning side, I''d be called a hero."


    A few minutester, Orion had grabbed everything he''d wanted from his house - including all the gs - packed it all in a duffel bag, and tossed it into the back of his pickup truck. He made a point of telling us that he wasn''t going to leave anything in the house for someone like me or "those NCR faggots" to nab if he had any say. When he put the rifle onto the gun rack in his pickup''s cab, his bulldog bounded into the passenger seat with a happy bark.


    "Fuckin'' shame," Orion sighed heavily, looking at his house as he opened the driver side door of his pickup. "Those fuckin'' NCR nancy boys''ll probably bulldoze this ce as soon as they realize I''m gone." He looked over at Arcade, who was waiting by my car. "See you at the bunker, Arcade. And you..." he looked over at me. "... whatever your name is." Orion snorted loudly, spat on the ground, got in his pickup, and drove off.


    "Well..." I stuck my hands in my pockets, and walked over to Arcade as soon as the dust began to settle. "He''s an incredibly repellent, tulent minded individual." Arcadeughed nervously. "Do we really <em>need</em> him?" Arcade nodded.


    "The rally point for the squad is an old bunker. The only way into the bunker is a voice key encrypted password. Each member of the squad has a single word. We need all five words in the phrase to get into the bunker."


    "Great," I sighed. For some reason, that setup reminded me of the password to get into the Sierra Madre''s vault. "So... don''t take this the wrong way, but why is he such a fucking asshole?"


    "Orion took the fall of the Enve hard. He never questioned his orders. He never questioned the legitimacy of what the Enve was doing. To him, it was all one unbroken chain, from George Washington to Dick Richardson. I was too young to remember myself, but apparently the day we left Camp Navarro, he raised a ss of scotch and said ''Kiss America goodbye, boys.'' After we left the Enve behind, the love in him burned itself out. Now, there''s nothing left. Just a bitter old man."


    "Begin again... but know when to let go," I said with a slight smile. Of course that''s what I would say, after being reminded of the Madre. Arcade just continued staring out into the distance at the shrinking speck that was Orion Moreno''s pickup truck.


    "It''s been decades, you know. By now, he''s been <strong>out</strong> of the Enve a hell of a lot longer than he was <strong>in</strong>. Most people know when to hang it up and start over... but not Moreno."


    "He''s a stubborn bastard," I said; as I spoke, ED-E floated down from his circling patrol high above us. "Even if he''s faced with impossible odds, he won''t back down. He''ll never quit. I can respect that in a man." I paused, and looked back over to Arcade. "What I can''t respect is... okay, seriously. I gotta ask. Does... does he <em>know</em>? Did you ever tell him you were -" Arcade cut me off with a very loud, singleugh.


    "Oh, <strong>GOD</strong> no!" Arcade buried his face in one of his hands and startedughing feebly. "Telling someone <em>that</em> homophobic about my interest in men? Christ, could you imagine? That would be just... It would be <em>awkward</em>."


    Our next stop was a small cave in one of the southern peaks of the Frenchman mountain range, even further east than Orion''s house. We were perilously close to Vault 34, but I didn''t think we were close enough to run into any wandering ghouls. At least... I hoped we weren''t close enough. Especially since the approach was way too rocky and steep, and we had to leave my Corvega parked about quarter of a mile back down the mountain.


    "So, who are we picking up here?" I asked as we approached the cave. ED-E was buzzing in the air just above us.


    "Hannibal ''The Cannibal'' Johnson," Arcade said simply.


    "Wait, what?" I halted in my tracks, holding up a hand. "The Cannibal? Seriously? He''s not... he''s not <em>actually </em>a cannibal... is he?"


    "You''d have to ask him," Arcade said in a vaguely nomittal sort of way. "But I doubt it. If I had to pick anyone who <em>didn''t </em>belong in the Enve, it would definitely be Johnson. He hated what the Enve was doing. Day to day, week to week, he would question orders, subvert mission objectives... he did anything and everything he could to serve without serving. Honestly, it''s amazing he was never court-martialed."


    "So, the pr opposite of Orion?" I asked. Arcade nodded, and I just smiled. "Well then. Sounds like ''The Cannibal'' and I might get along just fine." Arcade smiled back, and we continued up to the cave.


    "He always had good things to say about my father. Said I was like him in a lot of ways..." Arcade paused, and then added after a minute or two: "I wish I knew."


    "I''m sure your father would be proud of you," I said, patting him on the back. He let out another ''Hmmm.''


    "Maybe. Honestly, I wonder if he would. It''s pointless, I know. But sometimes... sometimes I wonder what he wanted me to be. Maybe being a doctor in the middle of Nevada wasn''t exactly what he had in mind for his little boy..."


    By now, we''d reached the entrance to the cave. It must have been the right ce, because it was blocked off by a ramshackle door made out of scraps of wood and metal. Someone was definitely using this ce as a hideout.


    Cautiously, I reached out and pushed the door open. The inside of the cave was pretty dark, but the darkness wasn''tplete. Some lights were flickering from deeper inside the cave. After a minute of walking (and disabling about three bear traps hidden in the darkness that I saw with the nightvision mode of my cybeic eyes), we reached the center of the cave. A single beam of sunlight fell into the center from a hole in the ceiling, and other lights wereing from a small string of Christmas lights circling the roof. There was a rusted bedframe and bedroll, a few dented lockers... and an old man sitting on awn chair with a hunting rifle across hisp.


    "Well now... it''s about damn time," the old man said getting up, and he held the rifle at his side, not even bothering to raise it. He stepped into the beam of sunlight, and I got a good look at him. His white hair was tangled and wild, and his equally white beard was huge. What little I could see of his face beneath the tangled mess of hair was old and wrinkled, but a pair of bright blue eyes stared at me with a fierce intensity. He was wearing a set of patchwork leather armor, with several pieces of metal attached to it with brown leather straps. On his left knee, I could see a patchwork frame of metal - a knee brace. "What took you -" He paused mid sentence. "Oh."


    "Oh?" I repeated. The old man - Johnson, apparently - justughed grimly.


    "I''ve been in the Grim Reaper''s shadow for a long, long time now. I thought that he''d finally showed up to collect." Johnson snorted, and shook his head. "He''s just mocking me, now."


    "You sound like you''re eager to die," I said. It was a concept I couldn''t fathom. <em>Wanting</em> to die? epting it? Madness.


    "There''s a twitch in my trigger finger, I''ve lost my eagle eyes, and the other day I could''ve sworn I heard Sergeant Dornan chewing me out. I''m old, and I''m starting to feel it. It''s not pleasant, especially when you know your mind''s slipping away. We all go sometime, but I was hoping for something a little more... heroic." He shook his head again, and stepped closer, tilting his head as he stared at me. "So... who are you, and what are you doing in my cave?"


    "I''m Fisher. Sheason Fisher. Arcade showed me where to find you," I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder at Arcade behind me. "We''re gathering the Enve Remnants." Johnson peered around my corner and chuckled.


    "Ahh... thought I recognized the fellow with you. How''re you doing, Arcade?"


    "I''m doing good, Hannibal," Arcade said. Johnson nodded, and turned back to me.


    "So, what''s this reunion all about, then?"


    "I don''t know how much you know about the rest of the world outside this cave, but pretty soon the NCR and Caesar''s Legion are gonna butt heads over the dam again. Arcade thinks that the Remnants should get together for onest mission. Your fighting skill and advanced technology could be the ace up our sleeve to rig the fight in our favor. Interested?" Johnson''s beard twitched.


    "Well now... there''s an interesting idea. Do a bit of good before we''re all dead and forgotten." He nodded several times, bringing his rifle up to rest on his shoulder. "Sure. You can count me in."


    "Excellent," I said with a smile. "So, what was your role in the squad when the Enve was still around?"


    "Designated Squad Marksman," Johnson said with a shrug of the shoulder the rifle was resting on. "I''m proud to report that I never killed a single soul who wasn''t trying to kill me or one of my team first." I was a bit taken aback. I wasn''t really expecting that.


    "You make it sound like avoiding innocent deaths was umon in the Enve..." I said, looking around. Arcade closed his eyes and subtly nodded.


    "I''m sorry to say that it was. Civilian casualties were eptable, and sometimes... even <em>encouraged</em>. And people like Moreno? He didn''t <strong>need</strong> encouraging. Orion and I might''ve killed each other if Captain Kreger hadn''t been there to pull us apart..."


    "Yeah, I can believe that," I said with a smile. "So... out of sheer, morbid curiosity..." I paused, trying to figure out how to phrase my question.


    "Yeah?" Johnson said with a raised eyebrow.


    "You really a cannibal?" Heughed heartily.


    "Ah, I''m not saying," he grinned broadly, showing a mouth full of (mostly) intact teeth. "It''s part of my mystique, after all."


    "Damn," I said with a sigh. "Sounded like there was an interesting story behind it." Johnsonughed more.


    "Well, the truth of it is... I''m not <em>really </em>a cannibal. I <em>did</em> cut out a raiders heart once, but I only took a bite to mess with his buddies. They had me dead-to-rights, and I went with the first thing I could think of. Some ran... and the rest were startled <em>just</em> long enough. People found out about itter, and I guess the name just sort of stuck."


    "Let me guess... " I said as the three of us exited the cave; ED-E bobbed down and fell in beside us. "You''ve got some kind of car around here too, right? Something like thest of the V8 Interceptors, am I right?"


    "Wait, what?" Johnson stammered out. "Uh... no. Not... I don''t really - what, did you guys drive here?" I nodded, pointing at my car below us. Johnson let out a nervous chuckle. "Well, in that case... do you think I can get a ride? The bunker is awfully far... it might take a while if I was going to walk. The other guys would probably get tired of waiting for my old bones."


    "Sure thing, man," I said. "I think there''s still... a <em>little bit </em>of room in the backseat..." I scratched the metal studs on the back of my head and sniffed. "So... who''s Sergeant Dornan?" Johnson let out a huge bellyugh.


    "He was a drill instructor I knew, back when I was stationed at Camp Navarro. He was the meanest, toughest, saltiest bastard I''ve ever known. Once, he caught this private out of uniform, and old Iron Boots went off on the most ear-blistering rant ever known to man. It was inspiring!"


    "Inspiring, huh?" I asked. Johnson nodded. "Almost wish I could''ve heard it..." Next thing I knew, ED-E zoomed around in front of my face and let out a series of short, shrill beeps.


    "What is-" Arcade started to speak, but was interrupted by the voice the emerged from ED-E''s speaker grill. It was a rough, gruff, gravelly sort of voice.


    "Wee to Camp Navarro. So, you''re the new recement?" There was an indistinct shuffling. "What''s your name, private?"


    "My name is James," Another voice spoke up, not quite as gruff, and certainly younger sounding.


    "What was that?" The first voice growled. "Did you forget something, maggot?"


    "My name is James, sir!"


    "<strong>I AM NOT A SIR!</strong>" The first voice bellowed. It was so loud, ED-E shook in midair. "I work for a living you <strong>MO-RON! </strong>You will call me Sergeant, or Sergeant Dornan! If I <em>like </em>you, you can call me Sarge. But guess what? I DON''T LIKE YOU! <strong>DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!</strong>"


    "Yes, sergeant!"


    "Fan-fucking-tastic, maggot! Now, perhaps you''d care to exin to me WHY THE<strong> PISS </strong>YOU ARE OUT OF<strong> UNIFORM</strong>, SOLDIER!Where is your <strong>POWER ARMOR?!</strong>"


    "I wasn''t issued any armor, Sergeant!"


    "Don''t have any?" There was a short pause in the shouting. "YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT, <strong>MAGGOT</strong>? The truth is that you have LOST an expensive piece of army-issue equipment! That suit is going toe out of your PAY! And you will remain in this mans army until you are <strong>FIVE HUNDRED AND TEN YEARS OLD!</strong> Which is the number of years it will take for you to pay for a Mark II Powered Combat Armor that YOU HAVE <strong>LOST</strong>! Report to the armory and have a new suit issued to you, then report back to me private! <strong>DISMISSED!</strong>"


    ED-E beeped tonelessly to mark the end of the recording and floated in ce, leaving us in silence for a few minutes.


    "Well, I''ll be damned..." Johnson stared at ED-E. "How the hell''d that cute little eyebot get a recording of <em>that</em>?" ED-E bobbed in ce, as if confused.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E spoke up. "What recording is Remnant_Hannibal referring to?"


    "I don''t think ED-E knows," I said, turning back to the old man following us. The three of us walked down the mountain back to my car in rtive silence. It was only broken after Johnson took a look in the backseat of my car.


    "Damn..." He let out a low whistle. "You weren''t kidding about there only being a little bit of room in the backseat." He looked over therge collection of parts I''d bought at Mick & Ralph''s earlier. "What''s all this for?" I smiled at him.


    "Just a little project I''m working on," Johnson looked back at the pile.


    "Is... is that a toaster?" he pointed at the top of the pile. I nodded.


    "Well, sure. I''m gonna need its electric heating coil of doom."


    Johnson stared at me in silence for a minute or two. When he finally regained control of his faculties, he looked at Arcade, gesturing at me with a face that screamed ''Is this guy nuts?'' Arcade just shook his head and sighed.


    "Don''t ask. It''s a... It''s a long story."

 Chapter 116: Shadow Intelligence

    Chapter 116: Shadow Intelligence


    "So, Johnson," I nced over my shoulder at Hannibal ''The Cannibal'' sitting in the backseat. "Arcade here tells me you have a bit of a problem with authority?"


    "Oh, he did, did he?" Johnson leaned forward, grabbing the back of Arcade''s seat... and thenughed. "Yeah, sounds like me. Although it wasn''t so much a problem with authority as it was a problem with fascists."


    "You and me both," I said with a smile, turning back to the road. "Happy to know you, man."


    "Technically, I said I was surprised you were never court-martialed," Arcade rified. Johnson snorted.


    "Nope... never court-martialed. Demoted more times than I can count, though. I think the highest rank I ever held was corporal, and that was just for two weeks. I''m positive that if it hadn''t been for Arcade''s father vouching for me so many times - and my skill as a marksman - the brass probably would''ve had me shot," Johnson leaned back in the backseat and chuckled softly to himself. "I hold the dubious distinction of being the only Enve slick sleeve to ever serve inbat operations on the maind."


    "Slick sleeve?" I asked. I''d never heard that particr phrase before.


    "You know how enlisted soldiers in the NCR have chevrons on their arms to denote rank?" Arcade said. I nodded. "They got that from the old US military, and the Enve had a roughly simr system. The lowest rank of private doesn''t have any rank insignia."


    "Most of the time, the only slick sleeves around are in basic training. Soon as you finish basic, you get at least one stripe. Maybe two, if you went to school first." Johnson said, continuing the rification. "But Arcade''s pop, Gannon Senior, he knew I was too good of a shot. So he fought tooth and nail to keep me in the field."


    "I''m surprised you agreed to that," I said. "Wouldn''t it have been easier to ''serve without serving'' if you weren''t shooting at people?" Johnson shrugged.


    "Maybe. But it was either that, or spend my days in the bowels of the oil rig, scrubbingtrines with my toothbrush, or somebody using my face as a dish mop. At least in the field, I had fresh air. Plus," Johnson coughed a bit before finally getting it under control. "If I <em>hadn''t</em> been on the maind, I probably would''ve been stuck on the oil rig when it went boom. So, I suppose it all worked out."


    There are a lot more neighborhoods andmunities around Vegas than most people realize. It''s not just Freeside and The Strip. Those are just the ces behind the walls that House built. Some ces, like North Vegas for instance, are where people go when they''ve fucked up one too many times on The Strip, and aren''t even allowed in some of the low-rent "budget" casinos in Freeside. Even by wastnd standards, North Vegas is a slum. It''s a collection point for fuckups, junkies, drunks, losers, and people who have reached the lower back-end of life.


    Not that you would ever figure that out just by <em>talking</em> to the people who lived there. ording to them, they were doing just fine with their falling apart buildings, the constant threat of raiders, and the awful smell from all the open manhole covers that led into the sewers. They didn''t want or need any help from anyone. Especially not NCR. They just wanted to be left alone.


    And in that respect, our next destination of Westside was very simr. The people who lived in that walled-offmunity almost directly west of The Strip just wanted to be left alone. There was one thing that made all the difference, however. If you found yourself in North Vegas, it''s because you had nowhere else to go. Nine times out of ten, the people who settled in Westside were there because they wanted to be.


    Westside was not as rich or prosperous as Freeside, but it was a rtively stablemunity. They''d organized their own militia to fend off the raiders, and the ''Westside Co-op'' - basically just a glorified grocery store - provided enough revenue in trade for the locals to keep the small town independent. There were (apparently) even a few small farms inside the ramshackle walls.


    Thest time I was here, it was just to drop off Cmity, Doc Henry''s ghoul assistant, when she needed to get some supplies and I needed to find a dog''s brain for Rex. She''d exined all this about Westside and North Vegas to me during the drive down the mountain. A bit understandably, she''d been a bit too scared out of her wits to say anything of the sort on the way back up.


    Either way, I parked my car in roughly the same ce as before - right near a big sign that pointed down at a manhole cover and said, in arge sign made out of bits of scrap metal and red paint: "THE THORN." The three of us got out of my car, and ED-E buzzed down out the sky, and hovered near my roof.


    "Shall I keep watch over your vehicle, Friend_Courier? Or do you require my presence to recruit Enve_Remnant Number: 4?" ED-E beeped at me. I shook my head, and held up the keys.


    "Yeah, you can join us. The car should be fine," I pressed a button on the key fob; the deadbolts in the doors locked with a solid metallic thud. I looked up at the sign to that ''Thorn'' ce, and then down at the manhole cover. "I still gotta check out that ce..."


    "What, the Thorn?" Arcade said. "Yeah... I don''t think there''s much to see. Some kind of blood-sport arena held down in the sewers. I think. Never been down there, myself."


    "I''m just d to be out of that backseat!" Johnson muttered. I looked over at him, and he was visibly grimacing while holding his back with one hand, and leaning against my car with the other. "I mean... don''t get me wrong, I appreciate the ride, but I don''t think my joints can take much more of being cramped up back there..."


    "Sorry man," I held back augh as the three of us walked through one of the gates into Westside. ED-E floated over the wall with a happy sounding buzz. "If I''d known we were picking up passengers, I would''ve waited to grab all that stuffter."


    The hustle and bustle of the Westside streets behind the gates was a bit of a surprise. Despite all I''d been told about this ce, I hadn''t expected the ce to be this crowded. Or maybe it was just busy because it was Friday afternoon, and old habits - old world habits, even - are hard to break. As we walked, I shot a nce down an alleyway, and finally understood what Cmity had meant when she said "farms." Situated between two squat concrete buildings was a small open square, filled with row after row of nter boxes, each filled to the brim with different types of wastnd flora in varying shades of life. By which I mean varying shades of <em>brown</em>.


    "You know, it''s been a while since I came around this way..." Arcade mused as we walked.


    "Are you talking about thatst get-together from four years ago I keep hearin'' about?" I asked. Arcadeughed softly and shook his head.


    "Oh, no. No, I came around this way rtively recently - about 8 or 9 months back. I passed through with another member of the Followers. Scientist by the name of Tom Anderson. He mentioned something about checking on the water supply, but that was thest I heard of him..."


    "You''re with the Followers?" Johnson asked from behind us.


    "What, I didn''t tell you?" Arcade said, looking over his shoulder. "Thought thebcoat gave it away."


    It was at this point, I halted in my tracks and held up a fist to get them to be quiet. There had been a rhythmic, heavy drumming that I''d heard in the background, and the further we got into Westside, the louder it was getting. It almost sounded like extremely heavy footfalls. The sort of heavy, weighty footsteps that apanied something like power armor or -


    A super mutant stepped into view not two feet in front of us from us around a nearby corner. Every step hit the ground with a resounding thud. The green-skinned mutant with goggles on his head and a tire on his shoulder turned to look at us, looming over the three of us like a skyscraper made of meat... and then he smiled with a mouth full of teeth. Or, at the very least, he gave the best attempt at a smile that he could. Given the tops of his mouth were held up in a permanent sneer by the leather face harness, it didn''t really work.


    "Uh... hello?" I said, waving feebly. I''ll be honest, I was caught with my pants down. The super mutant, not perturbed in the slightest, mimicked my wave.


    "Nng," the mutant grunted out. "Hi." In retrospect, it was obvious why that ''hi'' didn''t sound natural. But at the time, it sounded strange, and I couldn''t put my finger on what I thought was odd.


    "Uh... can we... uh..." I pointed behind him, unable to form the words to properly ask if we could pass. He was quiterge and in our way. At least, I think he was in our way. "Who are you again?" The mutant nodded.


    "Mahsohfabish," he slurred. I blinked.


    "What?" Arcade pped me on the back.


    "He said his name is Mean Sonofabitch," I looked over to Arcade, who just smiled. I looked back at Johnson, who looked as confused as me. "So, how are you enjoying Westside?" Arcade asked, turning back to the mutant. "The locals finally getting used to you yet?"


    "Ha ha ha!" Mean Sonofabitch opened his mouth wide, and I got a gruesome look at what was clearly just a mangled stump of a tongue. That... okay, that exined the voice. "I wash ma bown. Wesibe!" He looked up, and sniffed the air. "I have bo go bow. Fiebs aroub." He started to stomp off, but waved over his shoulder before disappearing around another building. "Goobye!" Two out of the three of us stood there in stunned silence as Mean Sonofabitch stomped off.


    "What the hell just happened?" Johnson asked.


    "Ah, don''t mind Mean Sonofabitch," I heard a voice say from behind me. It was a smooth, authoritative and very calming sort of voice. Try to imagine if a really rich, creamy, and thick msses could speak, and you''re about halfway there. "He may look tough as old boots, but he''s a real softie. Like a teddy bear. A great, big, green, leathery teddy bear."


    The voice belonged to an old man wearing a ck leather jacket, standing not five feet away from us. By a happy ident, we''d run into exactly the man we were searching for: former Enve Captain Judah Kreger. His skin had the shade of a very strong cup of coffee, and his short frizzy hair (on both the top of his head and the rough goatee on his face) was mostly white, but flecked asionally with dark greys. Around his eyes I could see lots of tiny dark spots - they''d look like moles if they were a bit bigger. It was like someone had dusted his cheeks with pepper. His mouth was upturned in a slight smile when I turned around to get a look at him, but the instant he realized who was here with me, his face broke into a wide, toothy grin, entuating and deepening all the lines on his face.


    "My, my! Johnson!" He shouted with augh. Johnson smiled, nodding; his hand twitched, like he was holding himself back from saluting.


    "Good to see you, Captain," Johnson''s beard twitched, letting me know he was smiling. In seconds, Hannibal The Cannibal was caught in the middle of a hug.


    "It''s good to see you," He let Johnson go, and moved over to Arcade, pping him on the shoulder. "And Arcade, too! Both of you, it''s good to see you! How''ve you been, my boy?" Kreger held up a hand, and Arcade grasped it, the two of them doing some sort ofplicated secret handshake - or maybe they were making it up as they went along?


    "I''m good," Arcade said with a smile. Kreger shook his head and chuckled.


    "God, it feels like I haven''t seen you in years! What brings you to Westside? You two don''t look particrly down on your luck..."


    "We''re putting the Remnants back together," Arcade said tly. Realization dawned on Kreger''s face as he looked to Arcade, then to Johnson, then to me, and then finally back to Arcade. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?" Arcade asked. Kreger nced over at me, and motioned with his head.


    "He with us?" Arcade nodded. "Alright. Buy you boys a drink?"


    Judah Kreger had a small apartment on the 2nd floor of a building with the words "at the Pawn Shop" spray painted on the side. It was small... but cozy. Filled with memorabilia and knick-knacks that at first nce made the ce feel a bit cramped - even more so than the four grown men now standing around inside - but it was obvious after only a few minutes looking around that everything had a ce, and everything was in it. This wasn''t clutter. These were memories.


    "So..." Kreger walked behind a small bar, and pulled out a dusty bottle of scotch, pouring a ss for each of us. "What''s the deal? And what''s this got to do with The Indestructible Courier people keep talking about?" I tried to hold back my surprise. Obviously, this guy kept his ear to the ground. If I thought I liked this guy before, I definitely liked him even more now.


    "How are you sure I''m The Courier?" I asked, deciding to probe his instincts just a little more as I picked up one of the sses of scotch. " I mean, you''re right. But still. How''re you sure?" Kreger snorted back augh, and took a sip from his own ss.


    "It wasn''t hard to piece together, honestly. Militia scouts on the wall saw your caring from a mile away. Literally, I think you were <em>actually </em>a mile off when they spotted you. There''s the mountains of weapons you''re carrying. Plus, there''s that Enve spybot flying around outside, which... where did thate from, again?"


    "I found him in Primm," I hurriedly tried to change the subject. "Back to the point at hand: Arcade and I think the Remnants shoulde back together for one more mission. The only one we haven''t talked to yet is Henry up in Jacobstown, and we''re gettin'' him next."


    "Oh yeah?" Kreger handed Johnson a ss, who epted it with a soft ''Thanks, cap,'' and a small nod. "Why us? Why the need for a bunch of old warhorses like us?"


    "Because you''ll be the element of surprise," Arcade said. I nodded, finishing off my ss - but waving off a refill.


    "There''s no one else around with the same level of experience or technology that you guys have. The way I see it? If you guys swoop in on a vertibird, guns zing, and wading through a hail of small arms fire without taking a scratch? That''s thest thing anyone would expect. And what''s more, anyone on the receiving end of that is gonna shit their pants, and that''s <em>just </em>the kind of chaos I want to foster for this thing. You interested?" Kreger listened to me carefully... and then slowly nodded his head, finishing off his scotch.


    "Haven''t done that in years... but all right. I''m in." He looked over at me curiously, then over at Arcade, and then back to me. "I get the feeling that''s not all you wanted to talk about."


    "No," I shook my head. "No, it''s not." From behind me, I heard Johnson walk over to Arcade.


    "What''s going on?" he asked. "You didn''t mention anything else to me." I turned around just in time to see Arcade grimace nervously.


    "Look, Hannibal... we''re... Do you think you can give us a minute? There''s something we need to talk to the Captain about. Eyes only kind of stuff, you know what I mean?"


    "Now, hang on," Kreger said, stepping around the bar with a raised hand. "We''re not in the military anymore, Arcade. We''re all just folk, there''s no need for ''eyes only,'' or ''top secret,'' or ''confidential,'' or anything like that. Whatever you want to talk to me about, you can say it in front of Johnson."


    "No, we can''t," Arcade said desperately. "Judah, this is one of those... the fewer people who know about this, the safer it''s going to be."


    "And besides, I honestly don''t think Johnson would know anything about this, anyway..." I added, ncing over at Hannibal. "Er, no offense." He shook his head and smiled.


    "Don''t worry about it, I understand. It''s need to know only, and I don''t need to know. If I''m honest, I don''t really <em>want</em> to know, either." He scratched his beard, and then turned to Kreger. "Hey, Captain? D''you still have that Cadic?" Judah Kreger furrowed his brow, clearly not really understanding where this was going. I figured out what he was doing instantly, but I can understand why the sudden shift would appear confusing.


    "Uh... no. I traded it a few years ago." Hannibal snapped his fingers in response.


    "Aw, you got rid of the Caddy? Damn. I loved that car."


    "Sorry, Hannibal," Judah shrugged. "I drive an old CHP patrol car now I picked up at an auction. It ain''t pretty, but it still runs. I''ve got it parked in the garage right below us."


    "Mind if I hitch a ride to the bunker with you?" Johnson asked. "It''s a bit... cramped in the back of Fisher''s Corvega."


    "Oh, sure. I can definitely give you a ride. What does-" As Judah was talking, Johnson made his way to the door, and cut off the former Enve Captain before he could finish.


    "I''ll wait for you guys by the car. You have fun with your super-secret-spy-talk." And with that, he shut the door behind him. Judah stared at the door with his arms folded over his chest... and then looked back at me with a concerned, furrowed brow.


    "Alright..." Kreger unfolded his arms, and shoved a hand in one of his pockets. "You have my attention. What''s this about?"


    So I told him. I recounted everything I knew about the mysterious female assassin. I told him what her armor looked like. How she fought. What kind of weapons she used. Every time I''d seen her, and what she''d done. The seemingly impossible feats of physical strength I''d seen her aplish - including when she grabbed me by the head and threw me 15 feet through the air. Although I didn''t mention that it was <em>me</em> who was thrown, I said I saw her do it to someone, and I <em>may</em> have lowballed the distance, but that''s not the point.


    The more I talked, the more Judah Kreger listened, and the less aggravated he seemed. Now, listening to this tale about a potential Enve assassin running around... he seemed very worried.


    "And that''s all we know," I finished off. "At least, all we know right now."


    "I recognized the armor. Or... the helmet," Arcade added. "It''s <strong>definitely</strong> Enve. It''s very simr to the Mark II helmets for the armor you guys have stashed in the bunker. Not exactly the same, but there are enough simrities. If you saw it, there would be no mistaking it for anything other than Enve."


    "Thing is, we don''t know the face behind the helmet," I said. "We don''t know if it''s just someone who found some abandoned armor and weapons, and is just screwing around or... if this is <em>really</em> someone ex-Enve. Like you guys. We were hoping you might be able to shed some light."


    "Funny you should use the word <em>light</em>..." Judah said, stroking his chin. He coughed. "Alright, I don''t know how much help I can be. But... based on what you''ve told me, I don''t think that it''s just some random wastnder who found some armor and a gun. I think it''s someone who used to be an Enve Shadow."


    "A what?" Arcade asked, beating me by half a second. And the fact that Arcade was just as confused made the bottom drop out of my stomach like it was tied to an anvil dropped off a building.


    "When the Enve relocated to the Poseidon oil rig in the Pacific Ocean, renamed it Control Station Enve, and made it their new headquarters, they made a lot of changes. One of those changes was the creation of a single intelligence organization. The Shadow Ops Division. And they lived up to that name. Shadows were good. Scary good. I mean, they would show up, people would die, and then they''d vanish. They were practically ghosts."


    "A wetwork unit?" Arcade asked. "Government sponsored assassins?" Judah shook his head.


    "More than that. A Shadow was trained to be dropped behind enemy lines to gather intelligence, nt counter-intelligence, disrupt supply chains, sabotage infrastructure... they weren''t just assassins, that''s just what made them known. But what really made them scary? A single operator could functionpletely cut off from any kind of support, outside orders or anymand structure of any kind for months at a time toplete an objective. And they were creative. Far as I knew, they''d be given vague instructions, and then let off the chain. It was never a question of ''if'' they could get the job done, but ''how,'' and all the higher ups would have to do was sit back and watch."


    "Speaking of how, <em>how</em> do you know this?" I asked. "I mean, if they were that secret, wouldn''t they be... you know, a secret?" Judah shrugged.


    "There are always rumors, even about ck ops. Didn''t pay them much attention for a while. And then, right after I was promoted to Captain, I was tagged for recruitment. Apparently, they always used to trawl the oil rig for possible recruits. I got as far as the psych eval." He sighed and smiled. "Didn''t have the ''moral flexibility'' needed for a job like that, and they washed me out. Kind of proud of that one, actually," Judah pointed at Arcade. "That''s around the time I first met your father."


    "Okay, so..." I ran my hand along the top of my head, trying to process all this. "We now know that the mysterious assassin running around is <strong>actually</strong> ex-Enve. That''s conformation that we didn''t have five minutes ago." Of course, I had no idea what we were going to <em>do</em> with this information, now that we had it...


    "There are a few things bugging me, you know," Judah spoke up, snapping my attention back to the room. "What you said earlier about... being able to pick up a man by his head and throw him ten feet one handed. Dropping seven stories and not even pausing for breath..."


    "Yes?" I asked, urging him to go on.


    "Those aren''t normal things from Shadow Ops stories. That sounds more like a Frank Horrigan story." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Arcade visibly stiffen at the name.


    "Who''s Frank Horrigan?" I asked.


    "A better question..." Judah began. "...would be ''<em>What</em> was Frank Horrigan?'' Before the oil rig exploded, Frank Horrigan was the Enve''s not-so-secret weapon. I don''t know if he was human at one point, a mutant, a robot or what he was. They never told us where he came from. All I know is that when I saw him, he was a twelve foot tall behemoth wearing power armor. He was practically a walking nuke. They would fly him in, and fifteen minutester, everything within half a mile of the drop would be <em>dead</em>. Just... dead. He would kill every one and every <em>thing</em>." Kreger shook his head. "Hell, even some of the <em>rocks </em>would have sma burns."


    "I''ve heard the stories, mostly from you guys. What does that monster have to do with this assassin running around?" Arcade said, finally regaining control of his voice. Judah looked over to Arcade, and then back to me.


    "There was one time the squad was deployed alongside Horrigan. They called it one of the ''Field Tests.'' I saw him pick up a raider with his bare hands, and rip him apart lengthways like he was made out of <em>tissue paper</em>." Judah stared me straight in the face. "Horrigan pulled off half a dozen physical feats like what you described before breakfast every day."


    Arcade and I both looked at each other, and I''ll be honest: he looked exactly how I felt.


    "If he was such killing machine... then what the fuck happened to him?" I finally managed to ask.


    "Nobody knows for certain," Judah said inly. "After the oil rig blew up, he was never seen again. Everyone assumed he went down with the ship, but... the most we ever heard about the oil rig explosion was that ''internal sabotage was responsible,'' and we never got the full story. Nobody ever found Horrigan''s body, but if he was on the oil rig when it went up, I''m not sure there would be any <em>atoms</em> left. And if he was <em>alive</em>... trust me. People would <strong>know</strong>."


    "So, you think this assassin could be rted to this guy Horrigan, who or whatever he was?" I asked.


    "I don''t know," Judah admitted. "But I can tell you who might. Adolphus Henry."


    "Henry?" I blurted out. "Doc Henry, who we''re going to see next? That Henry?"


    "What would he know about this?" Arcade asked.


    "Before he was attached to the squad, Henry spent a lot of time with the Enve research teams on the oil rig. Once or twice, he let slip that he knew a few of the people responsible for ''manufacturing'' Frank Horrigan, whatever that meant. It''s possible he might know something more useful than me." I scratched at my beard, still processing.


    "A few things..." I said aloud, the words taking root in my head. Judah took a step back, confused.


    "What?"


    "You said a few things were bothering you. What else is bothering you about this? I mean, there''s <strong>plenty</strong> to be bothered about, but <em>what</em>, specifically?"


    "Ah. Well, it''s just..." he paused, as if trying to look for the right word. "Why now?" When he realized I wasn''t quite sure what he meant, Kreger continued. "It''s been <em>forty years</em>. The Enve as an organization just <em>doesn''t exist</em> anymore. Nobody left except us Remnants. There''s nomand, there''s no orders, and even if there were, it''s not like everyone who used to be Enve would jump at the call. We''ve all moved on... or, most of us have, anyway. So whye out of hiding now? There''s something here we don''t know."


    "There''s a whole hell of a <strong>lot</strong> we don''t know," I said.


    "Maybe they haven''t been hiding..." Arcade offered up. "If this person is really a Shadow Operative, then maybe they''ve been running their own personal gueri war non-stop for decades. You said it yourself, they''re able to operate without support behind enemy lines for extended periods of time. I remember the early days. Sort of. The Devil''s Brigade fought a gueri war for <em>years</em> before finally going underground." Judah justughed.


    "Yeah, and do you know why we <em>stopped</em>?" he asked. Arcade shook his head. "Because as time wore on, and we all started actually being forced to live in the real world, every one of us found out about what the Enve was <em>really</em> doing. Not just the propaganda they fed us on the oil rig. You know what I came to realize, in the months that turned into years? The Enve didn''t lose because of Communists or traitors or internal sabotage or even ack of a will to win. That wasn''t the Enve''s problem. The problem was... the leaders of the Enve were evil. Greedy, selfish, evil men." Judah took a very deep breath in, and sighed out heavily. "Evil will only prevail when good men fail to act... and back then, many good men decided to."


    "Didn''t seem like that was the case when we had our very unpleasant encounter with Orion earlier," I said with a nod to Arcade. "He seemed to be under the impression that the Enve was doing what was right, and that he''d be called a hero if the Enve had won."


    "History has always been written by the victors," Judah nodded. "And maybe that''s colored my opinions of the past. But I''ve made my peace with what happened years ago. And Moreno... well. Mercy was never exactly in his vocabry, so I don''t think he would''ve cared one way or another."


    "Sounds like he would''ve been perfect for Shadow Ops. You know, with the ''moral flexibility'' you mentioned?" I shrugged. "Maybe they should''ve gone after <em>him</em> instead of <em>you</em>."


    "Maybe they did," Kreger said, a slight smile inching its way onto his face. "But maybe they rejected him because they were looking for candidates with brains." Iughed out loud at that, and Judah shook his head, waving his hands. "That was mean, don''t tell him I said that. If we really are putting the team back together, then we''re gonna need Moreno to bring the heat. I may not like him, I know he and Johnson don''t get along - and I can tell you feel the same way - but he''s <strong>good</strong>. He''s good at what he does because he''s a <em>killer</em>. Johnson may be a soldier, but Moreno is a <em>killer</em>. And that - a killer - is exactly what you''re going to need for any mission that brings the five of us out of retirement."


    "There is no hunting like the hunting of man," Arcade said softly. "And those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it... never care for anything else thereafter."


    "That certainly sums up Moreno pretty well," Judah said with a nod.


    "Did you just make that up?" I asked, a bit curious. Arcade shook his head.


    "No... No. That was Hemingway."


    A few minutester, we were all down in the garage. Like Daisy, Judah Kreger had a ''bug-out'' bag all prepared with all the essentials he needed for getting out of town in a hurry. The only thing he didn''t have in the bag - and almost forgot - was a hat.


    "I don''t get it," I asked, as we made our way down the stairs to the small garage on the other side of the building. "What''s so important about a hat?"


    "Well, if we''re getting the team back together..." Judah held the ck cap in his hands, right where I could see it. "Then it''s only fitting that I wear my officer cap." Despite being a little dusty, the cap was still in pretty good condition. The most distinguishing thing about it was the symbol above the brim: a silver circle made of stars, with arge "E" in the center. The middle spar of the "E" was made up of three lines.


    "Hey Johnson," Arcade said. "Waiting long?" I looked up, and realized we were at the garage; Hannibal was sitting on the hood of the rusty CHP car. It almost looked like some of the abandoned NHP cars that littered the sides of roads around here, except the roof lights on this car were still intact.


    "Nah," Johnson shook his head and smiled. "I''m used to waiting long stretches."


    "Sorry," I said. "I didn''t think we''d-."


    "I said, forget about it," he slid off the hood with a grunt, and walked over to the passenger side. "So, are we gonna to hit the road, Captain?" Judah nodded, tossing the duffel bag into the backseat.


    "We''re going to head straight for the bunker," Kreger said to both of us. "See you boys there. And it was nice meeting you, Mr. Fisher." I nodded to him with a smile.


    "See youter then," Johnson said with a wave, paused, and then added, a bit darkly: "...maybe."


    Arcade and I stood there as the patrol car rumbled to a start, and rolled on down the road and out of sight. A few secondster, ED-E floated down out of the sky.


    "Were you sessful in recruiting Remnant_Judah, Friend_Courier?" ED-E asked. I nodded.


    "Yeah. Four down, one to go." I scratched my beard, and looked over at Arcade, who was still leaning against the brick wall. "So, here''s a question I have in my head, now I know we''re dealing with someone who <em>actually </em>used to be part of the Enve." Arcade perked an eyebrow.


    "Yes?"


    "It''s been forty years. Many different people have mentioned this many different times. Which means that, for this person to be Enve ck ops, they''d have be at least in their sixties now, wouldn''t they? At least." Arcade nodded his head.


    "It certainly stands to reason. Discounting me, the youngest member of the Remnants is Daisy Whitman, and she''s 64."


    "Exactly. That assassin we fought did <strong>not</strong> fight like a sixty year old." I shook my head, trying to fit all the various pieces together that just simply would not fit. It was like I was trying to reassemble a jigsaw puzzle, and half the pieces had disappeared. "Can you think of a single person over sixty who''d be able to drop seven stories without even breaking stride, or even just <em>move</em> that fast? Hell, can you name a <strong>twenty year old</strong> that could do that shit?" Arcade shrugged.


    "Super mutants can do that, and a lot of them are at least a hundred years old. Maybe more."


    "Yeah, well... that ck-d waif with a right hook like a freight train doesn''t <strong>look </strong>like a super mutant." I shook my head. "Something stinks. I can''t figure out what it is, and it''s driving me <strong>insane</strong>."

 Chapter 117: For Auld Lang Syne

    Chapter 117: For Auld Lang Syne


    "Well, I''ll be damned..." Marcusughed to himself as Arcade and I walked through the Jacobstown gates. ED-E was with us, hovering along right behind. "Didn''t expect to see The Courier strolling back into my town anytime soon." He held out a massive hand, and I tried to shake it, but it just seemed to disappear within his palm.


    "Didn''t expect to being," I said with a smile. "How''re you doing, Marcus? Those asshole mercs leaving you guys alone? Or should I start crackin'' some heads?" Marcus shook his head, and folded his massive arms across his chest.


    "Nah. You scared them off pretty goodst time. Haven''t heard a peep from them in weeks." He nodded, looking me up and down approvingly. "You look good. Different. Confident. You look like you''ve been taking my advice to heart. What''ve you been up to?"


    I almostughed out loud. I tried to think of all the myriad things that have gone on in my life since Marcus and I had that conversation here in the middle of the night all those weeks ago. The Sierra Madre. Nellis. Mobsters. Killing House. The Brotherhood. The Vaults. Cannibals. A love triangle that resulted in two floors of the Lucky 38 getting demolished. Getting abducted by mad scientists. Deathws chasing me. Enve assassins. Apart from the love triangle, that is a long list of hriously improbable things. And even the love triangle was... if nothing else, it was proving that triangle rtions are the <strong>worst</strong> kind of geometry.


    "Dude," I continued trying to hold backughter while I shook my head. "Even if I told you half of what I''d been throughtely, I don''t think you''d believe me."


    "Oh, I dunno," Marcus shrugged, and fiddled with one of the vice knobs attached to his shoulder armor. "I used to roll with The Chosen One, remember. After following him around the wastnd, my tolerance for unbelievable acts is pretty high."


    "That''s fair," I said. "Henry in his office?"


    "You''re looking for <em>him</em> again?" Marcus asked, furrowing his brow.


    "Yeah, but it''s for something... there''s no cyberdog this time. He in his office?" Marcus nodded, and Arcade, ED-E and I started to walk past him.


    "Hang on." Marcus called out after us. I turned around to see him looking at his wrist and holding up his other hand. I honestly couldn''t tell if there was a watch on his wrist or not - would it even fit around that tree-trunk of an arm? "Keep holdin'' on..." He counted down with his fingers: 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. As soon as he closed his raised hand into a fist, there was a very loud bang from one of the lodge buildings. I looked over to the noise, and realized that several of the 1st story corner windows on the building that housed Henry''sb were lit up like a mushroom cloud before finally fading away. Speaking of clouds, several clouds of smoke appeared to puff out of the cracks in the window after the light died down.


    "Alright," Marcus finally said, lowering both arms with a smile. "You''re probably safe to go see him now."


    "Probably?" Arcade asked, a bit worried. I pped Arcade on the back, and tried to cheer him up.


    "Look at it this way. Probably safe is a lot better than definitely unsafe. We should be fine."


    The two of us started to walk away, when I suddenly stopped in my tracks. Thest few minutes, my brain had been trying to remember details of when I''d talked with Marcus in the middle of the night thest time I''d been here. There was something he''d said that night that was pulling at the back of my brain. I felt like it was important. And then, right at that moment - it hit me.


    "Hey, Marcus?" I turned back to the super mutant. "When you used to travel with the Chosen One... I seem to recall something you mentioned as being the craziest thing you guys did. I can''t remember - what was it?" Marcus rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought, but I could tell he already knew what he was going to say.


    "Well..." Marcus cleared his throat. "I suppose if I had to pick just one - and, believe me, picking <em>just one</em> is very hard - then I think I''d go with nuking the oil rig."


    Dead silence.


    "I.. I''m sorry, what did you say?" Arcade asked, once he found his voice. I didn''t say anything. I was just grinning like an idiot at the sheer hrity.


    "Well, to be fair, it was Frank Horrigan who set the self destruct.," Marcus said with a shrug. Arcade and I looked wide eyed at one another, and then back at Marcus. "It was a sort of final ''Fuck You'' to the Chosen One, after we blew him in half."


    Another moment of dead silence.


    "Frank... wait, did you say <em>in half</em>?" I was the one to break the silence this time. "What do you mean, in half? Do you-"


    "I mean," Marcus said with a chuckle. He was clearly enjoying himself. "He was split in half. His torso was over <em>here</em>," Marcus motioned to a spot by his feet. "And his legs were all the way over <em>there</em>." He pointed to a ce very far removed from the location by his feet. "The crazy thing is, that didn''t really stop him. That stubborn, giant bastard clung to life as a torso just long enough to walk on his hands and monologue at us. I''d say that took guts, but by then they were spread out all over the floor, so I suppose that''s not <em>strictly </em>true, is it?" Marcusughed heartily, and all Arcade could do was just nod his head weakly.


    "This is... just... what the fuck, man..." There was a sick desperation in myugh as I rubbed my face trying to make sense of all this. "We were just talking about the oil rig less than an hour ago, and Frank Horrigan as well! This is... I mean... just..." Iughed, and shook my head with a smile. "Small world, isn''t it?" Marcus nodded.


    "I''ve known that since I found out you were traveling with John Cassidy''s daughter." Marcus looked around, over both shoulders several times, and then settled back on me. "Speaking of which, where is Rose of Sharon? She still around?"


    "Yeah, Cass is... She''s still around. She just didn''te up today because it''s kind of... It''s Arcade''s thing today, you know?"


    "I understand," Marcus nodded. "You take care of her, alright?" I tried to suppress the smile. Not sure it worked.


    "I don''t think that''ll be a problem. Arcade, shut up," I didn''t even bother to look at him when I preemptively cut him off.


    "Wh- I didn''t even say anything!"


    "Yeah, but you were thinking it."


    "Uh..." Marcus regarded the two of us cautiously. "Should I... do I even want to-"


    "No you don''t," I said quickly, shaking my head. I jammed my thumb over my shoulder at the (presumably) still smoking lodge office behind us. "So, we''re gonna go see Henry, now. It was nice seeing you, Marcus."


    "You too," he said with a smile and a wave. "Come on back anytime."


    The double doors that led into Doc Henry''s office looked like they had been fixed - which is good, because thest time I''d seen them, they''d been broken open by a giant Nightkin and practically reduced to splinters. The door <em>frame</em>, however, was still cracked and mostly broken around the edges. Which meant that the new doors didn''t <em>quite</em> fit properly.


    My hand was mere inches away from the handle when I heard a few voices from inside:


    "I think we really made some progress with thatst test, don''t you think?" Henry''s distinctive elderly rumble echoed through the door.


    "I should certainly hope so," That sounded like a female ghoul - Cmity, probably. "We used two extinguishers putting the fires out."


    "This harness is itchy!" came another voice like a 300 pound lumberjack gargling gravel. That might be Lily, but it could''ve been another super mutant. I couldn''t stand just standing here listening, so I rapped on the door several times; there were a few indistinct shuffling sounds.


    "Check the levels, Cmity," I heard Doc Henry again. "Make sure they''re consistent with the readings from yesterday, I''ll get the door." There was a click, and one of the doors swung inward; Henry''s expression changed from confused to delighted as soon as he saw the two of us. "Well, this is unprecedented - I certainly didn''t expect to see either of you around any time soon."


    "Hello, Henry," Arcade said with a smile and a nod. "Always nice to see you."


    "You got a minute?" I asked, leaning around Arcade. "We need to talk about something."


    "Certainly, certainly," Henry stepped aside, allowing the two of us entrance into his office. It didn''t look the same as before - there was quite a lot more <em>stuff</em> inside, now. There were more monitors, tons of linked servers, machines spewing out reams of paper with line after line of data, wires and cables and conduits stapled to the floor, the walls, the ceiling... And speaking of walls, one of the far walls had been demolishedpletely, leading into the next room. That next room waspletely FULL of power generators. It was wall to wall, floor to ceiling, generators piled on top of one another. It was like a gigantic metal beast was chained up in the next room, vomiting power cables into this one.


    There were about ten jars scattered in various random ces around the room, and each jar contained a small brain (or possibly just pieces of damaged brains) suspended in bio-med gel. One of them was sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the device Lily had been hooked up to when she tested the Stealth Boy Mk II. There were more sensors and panels and dishes all surrounding the device. The collecting dishes looked a bit like umbres - and on closer inspection, that''s <em>exactly</em> what they were.


    "Oh, hello dearie!" Lily''s gravelly voice broke me out of my inspection of all the various bits of scientific equipment around the room. I turned to look at her, and saw her suspended from the ceiling, sun hat and goggles still on her head. Several wires were poking out from under the hat, snaking their way up to the ceiling and over to the rest of the machines. She reached out to try and grab me, but was a bit too far away because she was strapped into the harness. She couldn''t move forward to reach, so she just iled around uselessly in ce. "It''s so lovely to see you again, pumpkin! C''mere, give your grandma a hug!"


    "It''s nice to see you again, Lily," I said, gingerly giving one of her giant sausage fingers a shake, and then turned to Henry. "What''s she still doing here? I thought you said you didn''t need her for tests?"


    "I have con-troll!" Lily shouted happily... and then she snapped her head to the side. "Yes, Leo! You have con-troll, too! There''s no need to interrupt!"


    "Don''t worry, she hasn''t tested the Stealth Boy since the first one," Henry said with a nod. "We have her here as part of the control group, monitoring her brainwave patterns against the neuro-peptide nightstalker brains. She''s not the only volunteer, but it''s still fitting you shoulde today - it''s her turn."


    "This harness is still itchy!" Lily turned (as much as she could) over to Henry. "Can Ie down now?"


    "Certainly. Cmity, help her down. I have a strange feeling..." Henry looked over at Arcade and I with a smile, staring at the two of us with strangely magnified eyes behind his gigantic thick sses. "... that we''re done for the day." While Cmity helped Lily get down, Henry turned to face uspletely, and folded his arms across his chest. "So... to what do I owe the pleasure, boys?"


    "We''re getting the team back together," Arcade said simply. Henry''s eyes widened, and his sses made them look almosticallyrge.


    "You mean -" Henry began. Arcade just nodded. At least, I <em>think</em> he nodded. I was just a tiny bit distracted by Lily picking me up in a bear hug like she was trying to snap my spine.


    "Yep. If you''re in, then we need to head to the bunker as soon as possible." Henry furrowed his brow as Arcade spoke, and after a moment, it was obvious his mind was made up. He turned to Cmity (who had, thankfully, pulled me out of Lily''s grip and was in the process of shooing the super mutant grandma out of the room).


    "Cmity, I - I''m going to need to leave theb for a while. In fact, I need to leave Jacobstownpletely. I''m not... <em>entirely</em> certain when I''m going to be back. Do you think you can handle the tests and production for the cure?" Cmity raised a skinless brow in mild confusion.


    "Uh... I think so? You and I have been pretty meticulous about notes, and we''re fairly close to a cure anyway. The biggest hurdle is figuring out the proper dosage. And manufacturing it on arge scale..." Cmity coughed. "But yeah... yeah, I think I can handle it."


    "Good," Henry said, extending his hand. "I''m sorry for springing this on you, but this is..."


    "Don''t worry about it," Cmity shook Henry''s hand, and nodded, smiling at him with a cracked grin. "You do what you need to do. I can handle things here." Cmity nced over in my direction, and instantly her smile faded. "Just so long as you don''t ask me to ride in that lunatic''s car again, I''m good."


    "You''re never gonna let me live that down, are you?" I asked. Cmity just shook her head.


    The bunker was (apparently) pretty close to Jacobstown. About a mile down the mountain, on the east side. I''m not sure if Cmity''sments had any bearing on the decision, or if the terrain was too uneven and wooded for driving a car to be feasible, but Henry opted not to have me drive us there. The three of us instead decided to walk, with ED-E zooming along through the treetops above us.


    When we set off down the mountain, the sun was still rtively high in the sky. As we walked, we talked. Arcade and I ryed to Henry everything we''d told Judah about an hour ago about the Enve Shadow - not to mention everything he''d told <em>us</em> about Frank Horrigan. He needed to know exactly what we knew about this for him to be any help at all, I reasoned. By the time Arcade and I were finished, the sun was significantly lower than the treetops.


    "So," I said,cing my hands behind my head. "Is there any information you can provide about this mysterious Shadow person?"


    "Captain Kreger certainly thought you''d be able to help," Arcade offered up. Henry, on the other hand, just kept his gaze straight as we walked through the woods, refusing to look up at either of us. I shot a look of concern at Arcade, who seemed... I''m not sure. Cautiously optimistic? Perhaps that''s too nd a description for that face.


    "What you''re describing..." Henry finally said with a slight shake to his voice. "It''s... that''s not possible. It was cancelled, there''s just... there''s <em>no way</em>..." Henry trailed off, and I looked back at Arcade again. Okay, that was definitely worry, now.


    "What was?" Arcade asked. Henry just... was that a smile?


    "Judah was right. About a lot, but one thing in particr. Back when I was stationed on the oil rig, I knew a few people... <em>responsible</em> for Frank Horrigan. At least, responsible for sealing him inside that armor. Enhancing him. Running tests. But they weren''t what made him the monster. He was already a monster, even before the FEV."


    "FE..." I said slowly. It felt like a lightbulb lit up over my head. "Wait, so he <em>was</em> a mutant? Kreger said he didn''t know for sure."


    "Oh, he was a mutant, alright. Not that anyone would ever say that to his face. He was part of the vanguard that assaulted and upied the Mariposa base in California... and he was also one of the first to be exposed to the wrecked FEV vats. Thepound there was nothing like it was supposed to be - the virus itself had mutated heavily, being contaminated to the open air for so many years. I don''t know if it was thepound, his level of exposure, or his specific bio-chemistry, but the FEV turned Frank Horrigan into something... <em>unique</em>. His like was never seen before or since."


    "The Captain didn''t seem to think so," Arcade said. "This Enve Shadow - or, our descriptions of her, at least - reminded him of that monster." Henry kept staring ahead, muttering a soft grunt of understanding.


    "And that just proves what I''ve said for years about Judah - the man has great instincts. A few months after the tests on Frank stopped yielding useful data, a few of the scientists responsible got together. They created a proposal for a <em>new</em> project, and tried to run it by the President. A sort of ''Frank Horrigan 2.0,'' as it were."


    "Like a super soldier program?" Arcade asked. "Sort of like what FEV was supposed to do in the first ce, right?" Henry nodded.


    "If I recall correctly," Henry continued, "one of them even said t out: ''We don''t want to make more like Frank Horrigan. He was a mistake. A freak ident. The goal is to do it <em>better</em>.'' I can guarantee he wouldn''t have said that if Horrigan was in the room."


    "You knew some of the scientists involved in that n?" I asked, already guessing the answer. Henry nodded, still refusing to look at either of us.


    "I knew most of them, professionally at least, but I was only friends with one. Jacob Stein. He was going to be the Project Lead. Talked about it constantly during the summer of ''39. But... as far as I knew, he never got the funding. The project was shut down before it even started. They only got as far as the project code name: ASCENSION. So, what you were describing... it sounds like there was a sessful test subject. But that <em>doesn''t make sense</em>. How can there be a sess from a mothballed initiative?" Henry shook his head. "Something doesn''t add up..."


    "Hate to be Captain Obvious, here," I coughed, clearing my throat. "But don''t you think it''s likely that a <em>secret project</em> like that would only <em>im</em> to be cancelled? I mean, nobody would even think to look too closely for something that''s not supposed to exist, right?"


    "It''s certainly possible..." Henry mused, rubbing his chin. "One of the... <em>many</em> reasons the Enve leadership and I didn''t see eye to eye was a certain...ck of transparency. Too many secrets, and no way to figure them out without getting charged with treason. That''s no good for a scientist." Henry grunted again. "But if there was a sess, why not broadcast it? The first thing they did when the Mark II was operational was show it off. Until the unveiling, that was a secret project, too."


    "They wouldn''t if she was part of Enve Shadow Ops, like Judah thinks," Arcade chimed in. "The most dangerous thing for a spy is being visible to everyone. I know you may not like it, but I''ve learned over the years that secrets can have their uses." Henry shook his head at first... and then slowly nodded.


    "Yes... yes, I suppose you''re right. And that would make a certain amount of sense... It''s still strange, though."


    "Speaking of secrets," I added. "Orion can <strong>never</strong> know about this. You know that, right?" Henryughed out loud.


    "Believe me, I understand. If Moreno were to... God, that would only end in tears." Henry grunted, shaking his head. "This was the absolutest thing I thought I''d be talking about when I got up this morning, you know that?"


    "Wee to my life," I said with a smile.


    "Well, it''s about damn time," Johnson said as the three of us rounded a small ridge. He was leaning against a rocky cliff face; standing next to him were both Daisy Whitman and Judah Kreger. Daisy''s motorcycle was leaning up against a nearby tree.


    "Hey! Henry''s here!" Daisy beamed, tipping her hat back. "I knew you''d find your way here eventually!"


    "Always nice to see you, Master Sergeant," Judah said with a nod. He was wearing his Enve officer hat.


    "Daisy. Hannibal. Judah," Henry said with a smile, nodding at each as he said their names. "It''s good to see you all. It has been far too long."


    "Hang on, someone''s missing," I looked around and did a mental headcount. "Where''s Orion? Don''t we need him to get into the bunker?"


    "He got tired of waiting," Judah shrugged. "He said he wanted to do a little hunting." A rifle shot echoed from somewhere in the woods. "Ah, that''s probably him now. "


    A few minutester, Orion Moreno walked out of the woods with his Winchester resting on his shoulder. His dog, Jackson, was trotting along next to him, with somethingrge and slimy mped in its mouth. When they got closer, I saw the dead nightstalker Jackson was dragging along by the tail. Moreno halted a few steps away from everyone, and looked over the assembled crowd, his gaze eventually settling on me.


    "Fuck," Orion scowled at me. "I was almost hoping you weren''ting. Alright, let''s get this over with."


    Kreger and Johnson were the first to move. They both made their way to a sunken portion of the ground nearby, and the two of them leaned down to clear away some debris and foliage... and their efforts revealed a circr metal hatch buried in the ground. The two of them grunted as they turned the wheel, but it eventually gave in with a pop and a hiss of disced air. The hatch was lifted, revealing a dark shaft and adder; one by one, each of the Remnants climbed down into the hole.


    I was thest one down. Thankfully, the tight circr tunnel didn''tst too long, and I found myself in a ratherrge metal chamber. The curved walls and ceiling reminded me a bit of the Brotherhood bunker in Hidden Valley, as did the dark green color of the metal and the faint lightsing from below the grated metal floor. Judah flicked a switch, and suddenly a light flickered on with a clunk. At the far end of the chamber was arge metal door, and on the wall next to it was a terminal, which flicked on with the overhead light.


    "Well, that''s a relief," Kreger''s silky smooth voice echoed throughout the chamber. "When I put this ce into standby mode, I expected to return to it within a few years. Not <em>decades</em>. I''m honestly surprised it hasn''t fallen apart."


    "Wait, what is this ce?" I asked.


    "Minor refueling station for vertibirds from before the war," Judah replied. "Seemed an appropriate ce to stash our equipment, and keep it safe if we ever needed it again."


    "It''ll be nice to see the old gal again," Daisy chuckled. Judah walked past her and approached the terminal. He wiped some dust off the screen, and held a thumb over one of the buttons.


    "You ready?" He looked at the assembled Remnants. One by one, they each nodded. His thumb hit the button, and the screen shed.


    "Dear," Daisy said.


    "Old," Johnson added.


    "Friends," Doc Henry coughed out.


    "Remember," Moreno growled.


    "Navarro," Judah finished off the code.


    As soon as Kreger said the final word, theputer blinked red several times, and then beeped, shing green. A heavy thunk echoed throughout the chamber, and the door split in half, discing quite a lot of dust.


    "Voice key passcode epted," a robotic, vaguely female voice said from a speaker near the terminal. "Wee home." The doors ground open with a shudder, and several lights flickered to life deeper within the bunker.


    The room beyond was positively cavernous, and dominated almost entirely by the vertibird parked in the center. I''d never seen one up close before, and it was a lot more... bulbous than I was expecting. It reminded me a bit of an insect, with twin rotors on the sides instead of wings. Emzoned on the side of the aircraft was arge E surrounded by a circle of 12 stars.


    "Hey there, gal," Daisy went up to one of the bulbous viewports at the front of the vertibird, and ran her hand along the outside. Her fingertips left distinct marks in the dust. "I''ve missed you." While Whitman got reacquainted with her helicopter, I looked around, and saw something that made my jaw drop.


    "What the..." I muttered under my breath. Lined up against one of the walls were six... they looked like giant cylindrical beer cans made out of shimmering blue energy. Inside each was a massive set of power armor that most certainly was <em>not</em> the kind of armor the Brotherhood used. They were painted dark green, and were altogether much more bulky and menacing. The energy fields surrounding them must have kept out the dust as well, because I couldn''t see any on the armor. The joints looked a bit rusty, but that was it. The helmets were definitely familiar: the angry yellow eyes, the cables sticking out of the top like a pair of horns, the triangr, almost beak-like covering over the mouth...


    No wonder Arcade recognized the Shadow''s helmet.


    "Youing?" Arcade said, drawing my attention. I looked over, and realized that all five of the Remnants were funneling into another nearby room, and gathering around arge circr table. It looked like it could disy a map... I can see where this is going already. I scrolled through the functions on my Pip Boy as made my way to the room, and just as I found the map I was looking for, the heavy doors slid shut behind me.


    "Well, you''ve got us all here," Judah said, leaning against the table. "What''s this mission you have in mind?"


    "Any day now," I said, pulling out one of the cables on the side of my Pip Boy and connecting it to one of the input ports on the side of the table. "Caesar''s Legion is going to try and cross the dam, just like they tried to do four years ago." The map flicked to life, and an overhead topographical view of Hoover Dam and the surrounding area appeared on the top of the table. It was just a two dimensional image though. I was half expecting it to be a hologram. "The NCR held the linest time, but I seriously doubt they''ll be able to pull off the same trick twice. That''s why I''ve been gathering allies to fight against the Legion and drive them out of the Mojave for good. I thin-"


    "I fucking knew it!" Moreno shouted, cutting me off my mming his fists on the map table. "I didn''te out all this way just to save the fuckin'' NCR! Fuck this, I''m out!" And with that, he stormed out - which certainly exined why he''d stuck so close to the door.


    "Wh- who said anything about - hey, wait! I wasn''t fi-" The door mmed shut before I got a chance to exin. I pulled the cord out of the table, and it retracted back into my Pip Boy with a snap. "Fuck."


    "Saw thating," Johnson said, leaning against one of the back walls.


    "I thought he would''ve at least let me <em>finish</em> before running away," I muttered, turning to Judah. "You''re his CO, can''t you order him toe back and hear the whole n?" Kreger shook his head.


    "I''m not his CO. Not anymore. Hell, if Gannon Senior hadn''t bought it, I wouldn''t even be <em>that</em>. I was the squad XO... but it''s like I said before, we''re all just folk, now. I have no more authority to order anyone here around than you do."


    "Is he going to be a liability?" I asked, heading for the door. It wasn''t motion activated, so I had to hit a button on the side.


    "He won''t turn on us, if that''s what you''re asking," Judah said as the door began to slowly creep open. Why was it taking so long? "But he''s a good shot, and I''d hate to do this without him. If you want us to seed, then we''re going to need him."


    "Alright. Hopefully he''s not in his truck and driving off already..." I said just as the door finally openedpletely, allowing me to step through.


    I could not have been more wrong.


    The first thing I noticed: of the six force field cylinders lining the wall, one of them was deactivated... and empty. At the far end of the hangar, I heard a loud clunk... followed by heavy, metallic, plodding footsteps. And then the door behind me mmed shut, a lot faster than it opened. I looked behind me, and realized that I was now cut off from the rest of the Remnants - and Arcade.


    "Change of n..." I heard Moreno''s voice. It was pushed through a filter, booming, and echoing off every surface, but unmistakably his. A massive set of power armor walked around the vertibird, each footfall echoing like thunder. "I''ve sealed all the doors leading into the hangar. I don''t want my friends getting involved in our little... <em>disagreement</em>." When I saw what he was carrying, I tried to hide my shock: that had to be the absolute biggest sma caster I''d ever seen in my entire life. "Once I''m done with you, I''ll talk them out of this idiotic n. You''ve opened some old wounds..." The sma caster flicked on with a hum, and the three ded prongs on the end sparked into life with a burst of green energy. "It''s only fair that I return the favor."


    "You know," I said, keeping my voice steady as a stone. "You could''ve at least had the decency to listen to the whole n. There was a lot more to it." Morenoughed darkly.


    "What''s there to know? You want to help the NCR beat the Legion... and that''s all <strong>I</strong> need to know."


    "Just because I want the Legion to <em>lose,</em>" I said quickly, ignoring the bead of sweat on my forehead. "Doesn''t meant I want the NCR to <em>win</em>." Moreno stood still as a statue for what felt like eternity, until finally... the sma arcing at the end of the heavy weapon shut off.


    "You''ve got sixty seconds," Moreno growled. "You start talking, or I start shooting."


    "I want you to picture something in your head. The Remnants swoop in on the dam from on high, dispensing high-speed death. You show the NCR how it''s done. We all roll in, guns zing, and push the Legion back to the other side. We kick the hell out of them until they run back to Arizona with their tails between their legs... and then, when the NCR is celebrating, licking their wounds, and - most importantly - too tired to put up any kind of a fight? <strong>That''s</strong> when we turn around, kick ''em in the nuts, and <strong>throw</strong> them off the <strong>fucking</strong><strong>dam</strong>." I paused, hoping that would be enough, and that I hadn''t taken the whole sixty seconds. When Moreno didn''t move or say anything, I added onest thing: "I may let the NCR <em>take </em>the dam, but I''m sure as shit not gonna let them <em><strong>keep</strong></em> it."


    At that moment, the door behind me ground open with a painful groan of metal against metal.


    "I think that did it!" I heard Arcade''s voice from behind me, on the other side of the door. "Oh, fff-" I couldn''t tell if Arcade finished that curse, because he was a bit drowned out by Daisy gasping loudly. I walked up to Moreno, ignoring the voices behind me, and craned my neck to look up at the towering behemoth. I only let myself rx after he lowered the sma caster.


    "So..." Moreno growled again. "You have us help them at the dam, only to screw them overter?"


    "In a sentence, yes," I nodded. "That''s the n. I don''t like the NCR, but I <strong>hate</strong> the Legion even more. So I want to build a Mojave free of <strong>both</strong> of them. Free of the NCR''s corruption and bureaucracy, free of the Legion''s very, brutality, and bullshit. I''m going to create a new nation by kicking those two square in the ass until everyone goes home. I n on making a ce with no gods, and no masters. Just a bunch of people -mon folk - all standing up with one voice and shouting: Leave us alone. No more invasions. No more armies. Get the <strong>FUCK</strong> out!"


    Behind me, I heard a few hushed whispers... but I was mostly concerned with the power armored bastard standing over me. He snorted out a grunt, which was amplified to ridiculous levels by the filter on the helmet.


    "All right. Fine. But don''t expect me to hold my fire if any of those NCR faggots get in my way."


    "Wouldn''t dream of it," I said, pulling a straight face. At least he wasn''t trying to kill me anymore. "Now, c''mon. We''ve got work to do."

 Chapter 118: Rumours

    Chapter 118: Rumours


    Fuck me, I need a smoke.


    The silence in the bunker was deafening. Or was that the dull heavy thrum of some unseen generator, deeper in the bowels of thisplex? I already found out that this ce was quite a lot bigger than just the hangar... and that made me wonder just how "minor" this refueling station actually was before the war.


    If Captain Kreger was to be believed, there were a quintet of virtual reality pods almost directly below my feet; after we figured out the details in regards to their part of the attack, the five of them went downstairs of "shake out the cobwebs." Even Orion admitted he was out of practice. Arcade went down with them, offering to help set up the simtions and make sure everything was running correctly.


    So there I was, leaning against the parked vertibird in the empty hangar, staring at the row of immobile suits of power in the stasis fields. I reached into my duster for my cigs, and flipped open the - damn. Almost out. Didn''t I get a new pack the other day? I started to reach for one - and then paused when I noticed something rather peculiar.


    I was holding the packet of smokes with my cybeic hand, and it waspletely still. Steady as a rock. But my left hand? It couldn''t stop shaking. I mean, it was a subtle sort of tremble in my fingers, to be sure. It could have been shaking a whole lot worse. But it was still noticeable. To me, at least.


    "I''ve gotta hand it to you," Arcade''s voice echoed through the cavernous chamber, pulling me away from my thoughts. "I don''t think I''ve ever seen that before." He emerged from around the other side of the vertibird, and joined me in leaning against it. I let my left hand fall, and grabbed a smoke with mouth.


    "Seen what?" I asked. I offered him the pack, but he waved it off.


    "I''ve never seen anyone ever talk Orion out of something when he had his heart set on it before," Arcade said. I pulled out Benny''s lighter, flipping it open with a click. "Maybe he doesn''t hate the NCR as much as he says he does..."


    "No," I lit the smoke, and snapped the lighter shut. "I''m pretty sure he hates them <em>exactly </em>as much as he thinks he does." Arcade shook his head, and exhaled sharply out of his nose, staring intently at the sets of power armor.


    "Out of curiosity... did you mean it?" I raised an eyebrow in confusion, gesturing for him to continue. "Your n. Beating back both the Legion and NCR at Hoover Dam. Is that really what you n to do?" I nodded, plucking the cigarette from my mouth and exhaling.


    "Yeah. I meant it. The only way Vegas is ever going to have a shot at independence is if we show everyone that Vegas can beat back allers - Legion, NCR, or anybody else who wants a piece. Only way that''s gonna happen is a big show of force. I just hope I can set everything up and get all the pieces in ce before the Legion decides to finally cross the Colorado..." Iughed nervously, and put the smoke back.


    "You know, Boone''s probably going to have a problem with that. Going up against the NCR, I mean. Legion, he''d be fine with killing, but I don''t think there''s any way you''d get him to support any opposition to the NCR. You know that, right?" Arcade asked. I shrugged, trying to ignore that nervous tingle in my gut.


    "I suppose I''ll cross that bridge when Ie to it."


    "Yeah, because putting things like that off to thest minute worked so wellst time," Arcade shot back at me. Did he really...?


    "Seriously?" I said, snorting some smoke out of my nose. "You''re seriously going to give me shit about that? <strong>You''re</strong> the one who said I was right to keep the secret from Veronica. And that was <em>after</em> I got my ass beat, no less."


    "Yeah, well... Boone frightens me more than Veronica," Arcade admitted. It was finally <strong>my</strong> turn to stare at someone like they''d lost their mind.


    "So, I''ve been meaning to ask," I said, trying desperately to change the subject. "I can''t help but notice that there are <strong>six</strong> energy cell whatsits, and <strong>six</strong> sets of power armor contained within for the <strong>five</strong> Remnants." I plucked the cigarette from my mouth, snorting out a dirty great cloud of smoke from my nostrils, and pointed at all the armor with the cig between my two fingers. "Who''s thest one for?"


    "Me," Arcade said after a moments hesitation.


    "You?" I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Arcade coughed nervously - or was he coughing from the cigarette smoke?


    "Well. To be fair, the power armor belonged to my father. When they recovered his body from his final mission, they brought the armor as well. The Captain always said that if the Remnants ever suited up again, then I was wee to join them."


    "Do you even know how to use that thing?" I asked, taking a long draw from the smoke. Arcade nodded.


    "I''ve had power armor training since I was tall enough to wear it. 15, before you ask," Arcade sighed again. "Never did like wearing that armor, to be honest. The Te Armor always reminded me of my father... and not in the <em>good</em> way. It was always a case of ''your father died valiantly inbat, a heroes death... wearing this armor.'' It always made me feel ufortable, I guess."


    "Wait, back up," I cleared my throat and held up both hands. "I know that this is important, but... did you say <em>Te</em> Armor?" Arcade nodded.


    "Yeah. It was an experimental mark that my father was testing, and then he ended up keeping it after the oil rig exploded," Arcade pointed at the armor. "Those lighted disks and bulbs all over the armor are Te coils. What did you <em>think</em> they were?"


    I stared at the armor for a few minutes... and then busted upughing.


    "I''m sorry," I finally said, pausing for breath. "I know I shouldn''t... but I... it''s just... what <strong>is</strong> it with mad scientists and their fetish for Te coils?"


    "Beats me," Arcade said.


    "Okay, so..." I finally calmed down enough to properly speak again. "What are you gonna do? You gonna take them up on their offer and ride in on a vertibird, guns zing?"


    "I..." Arcade stammered out, going back to staring at the armor. I dropped the mostly finished smoke, and crushed it beneath my boot. "I don''t know. Maybe. I owe them a lot..."


    "But do you owe them <em>this</em>?" Arcade looked over at me, a bit shocked, so I just kept going. "If you ask me, putting you in that armor is a massive waste of your talents. You''re not a soldier. You''re a doctor. You''re meant to heal, not harm."


    "That..." Arcade shook his head, clearly still confused. "That''s the absolutest thing I expected you to say."


    "Yeah, well," I coughed, grabbing the packet of smokes again. "I''m not a doctor. All I really know how to do is hurt people."


    "Actually, I meant..." Arcade paused when I snapped my lighter shut. "All day, when we''ve been recruiting them, you seemed to put a whole lot of value in loyalty to the past. What''s changed since then?"


    "Nothing''s changed, man," I grabbed the smoke with my left hand, and puffed out a pair of smoke rings. "You may have been born at Navarro, but you''re your own man. They have their story. You have yours. You don''t have to be tied down to a fate where you don''t belong." Arcade stared at me for a long time after I finished.


    "You alright?" He asked, finally.


    "Yeah, I''m fine. Why?" Arcade pointed down, and I realized he wasn''t staring at <em>me</em>. He was staring at my <em>hand,</em> trembling just enough to be noticeable. Especially with the cancer stick between my fingers dropping ash off the end in great lumps. "<strong>Ah</strong>." I put the smoke back in my mouth, and closed my left hand into a fist. That... sort of did the trick. "I dunno. I just... I think the madness may be finally gettin'' to me a bit, man."


    "What madness is that?"


    "Well... just think about everything we''ve already done, and everything we <em>still</em> have left to do. Not to mention, we''re still gonna have to find some way of dealing with that invisible Enve super soldier running around. And staring down Moreno wasn''t exactly the most soothing thing in the world, either..." Iughed nervously, snorting out a few puffs of smoke. "It''s entirely possible that everything is finally starting to catch up to me."


    "So, what are <strong>you</strong> going to do?" Arcade asked, mimicking my question from a moment ago. I smiled over at him.


    "Keep going. Keep running. Can''t be caught if I don''t stop. I''m sure that holds just as true when ites to indistinct anthropomorphizations of unclear feelings of dread and madness." Arcade shook his head andughed.


    "Fortis Fortuna adjuvat," Arcade muttered. He looked over at me, saw that I didn''t understand what he said, and rified: "You''ll be fine."


    It was very dark when we finally got back to Vegas. Or, more urately, the sun was down. The city lights were just as bright and shining as ever, with crowds of people going about their business,pletely unaware of all the things that have been going ontely... and unaware of all the things still yet to happen. I was fully aware, and that''s why I was busy carrying all of that equipment I''d picked up at Mick & Ralph''s earlier today up to the penthouse.


    While I was carrying my third load of machinery and spare parts upstairs, I ran into Boone. He''d just stepped out the elevator in full kit with his sniper rifle slung across his back, and he clearly was on his way out. Most hrious of all, however: he was still wearing his sunsses.


    "Hey Boone," I said with a smile. He nodded curtly.


    "Hey. Busy?" Boone asked, looking at the giant sack of metal slung over my back.


    "Not terribly. Just working on a little science project. What''s up?"


    "Been keeping an eye on Freeside from the balconies upstairs," Boone pointed over his shoulder at the elevator. "Saw something earlier that got me worried."


    "Oh yeah?" I asked, setting the huge bag of metal on the ground with a thud; I may have been using the cybeic arm to lift it, but it was still resting on my shoulder. "What''d you see?"


    "Thought I saw crimson." Boone said, t as he said anything else. Immediately, I tensed up.


    "Crimson? You... you mean, Legion crimson? <em>Here</em>?" Boone shook his head.


    "Thought it was, at first. But it''s probably just a gang. Lot of red clothing. Hats. Shirts. Bandanas." I thought about that for a minute, and a connection was made.


    "What, like Bloods?" I asked. "I didn''t think any of them left the Boneyard outskirts. You''re saying you saw some in Freeside?" Boone nodded.


    "If it wasn''t Bloods, it''s a gang with the same colors."


    "How many you figure?" I asked.


    "Three or four," Boone responded.


    "That doesn''t seem too-"


    "On every street corner," he finished. I felt all the color drain from my face. Like we didn''t have enough to worry about...


    "<em>Holy</em><em>shit</em>! And you''re saying you saw them all over Freeside?" Boone shook his head again.


    "Not all over. Mostly the southwest corner. Seemed like they were staying away from The King''s territory. Didn''t see them doing anything except standing around, but..." Boone cleared his throat and grimaced.


    "Might be worth looking into," I finished. He nodded in agreement. "Is that where you''re going? See if it''s worth our time to check out?"


    "No," Boone said. "Need to get some thinking done. Gonna go Fiend hunting."


    "Didn''t we kill all their leaders a while back?" I asked, thinking back to our little foray into Vault 3. "I''m surprised they''re still around."


    "They''re around. Mostly skirmishers. Good for target practice." It was barely noticeable, but I saw a small smile work its way into the corner of Boone''s mouth. "Found a great sniper perch, though. It''s on the back of the New Vegas sign. Elevated position. Good cover. Great sight lines. I think a Ranger set it up, but it''s been empty whenever I''ve needed to use it."


    "Have fun," I said, grabbing the sack of parts and hefting it onto my shoulder again. "Bring lots of ammo."


    "Always do." Boone said, walking past me; I looked back at him, and Arcade''s words from earlier were tugging at the back of my mind.


    "Hey, Boone?" I called out after him. He halted in his tracks and turned back to look. "There''s... I need to ask you something. You know what I''m trying to do here, with this Independent Vegas n I''ve been cooking up, right?" Boone nodded. "I just want to make a ce where folk can live free. No tyrants. No kings. No gods. No warlords. I know you''re gonna be okay with me kicking Legion seventeen ways to Sunday... but you do know that NCR wants Vegas, too. Right?"


    "... Yeah." Boone eventually said, his voice low and ragged.


    "I''d be fine if Legion was wiped off the face of the wastnd. No question. But I don''t want to <em>wipe out</em> the NCR. I just want them to <em>go home</em>. I''ll be perfectly okay if things with them don''t end in violence... but given their past history, they may not give me a choice."


    Boone was silent for a full minute. He just stood there, still as a statue, staring at me from behind his sunsses, with an expression carved out of granite. Until finally...


    "I know. I''m not stupid." Boone continued to stare at me, and I just nodded somberly.


    "If you want out, I won''t stop you," I said. "We''ve been through too much, man. I don''t want things to get ugly between us. And I''m not going to ask you to do anything you don''t agree with." Boone looked away and sighed heavily, shaking his head.


    "There''s nothing you or I can do to hurt the NCR here in the Mojave that General Wait-And-See isn''t already doing." Boone looked back up at me - and I mean, he really <em>looked</em>. His sunsses had fallen down his nose, and for the first time in weeks, I could see his actual eyes looking at me. "After all you''ve done to help me... all the ghosts of the past we''ve put to rest together... all we''ve been through... I''m not going to run out on you now." In a slightly ironic stab, he took that moment to turn on his heel, and resume walking for the door. Before he left, however, he added:


    "I''ll stick by your side. Till the end of the line."


    A few minutes after Boone left, I found myself in the penthouse with the assembled collection of parts. I was sorting through it all to make sure I had everything. April and Yes Man were in the other room, discussion some recently decrypted files in House''s databanks, so I''d decided to make use of the most useless part of the penthouse: the bedroom. The bed that used to be sitting where I was now sorting through parts was... somewhere else. I''m not sure where. I just knew it wasn''t here anymore, and that''s all I cared about.


    "So, is this thest of it?" Emily looked over my shoulder, as I finished setting out the rest of the parts. I nodded at her. "This is certainly an eclectic collection you''ve gathered. Robot parts, televisions,puters, scrap electronics and cables... is that a toaster? What are you even <strong>building</strong>?"


    "If we''re gonna be technical about it, then this pile of scrap will eventually be turned into a ''string-based quantum tunneling entanglement field generator.'' But that''s a bit wordy, so I''m just gonna call it what everyone is gonna end up calling it anyway, and that is ''A Teleporter''." I said, as simple as I could, and with as straight a face as I could manage.


    "I... I honestly can''t tell if you''re fucking with me or not." She looked over the collection of parts with wide eyes. I turned to her with a wide, shit-eating grin, to let her know I was serious. "I mean... a sting based... quantum..." She stammered, obviously having a hard time wrapping her head around it. "You''re talking about <em>extremely</em> high level theoretical physics and unproven rtivistic quantum mechanics! A machine like that would require absurdly precise calctions with... with... <strong>I</strong> couldn''t even do the math!" She sounded like she was on the verge of hysterics, and she was clutching her head like people tend to do in the middle of a major crisis.


    "To be fair, <em>I </em>can''t do the math either. The brains at the Big Empty did the math, centuries ago, and then forgot all about it. I just put the fragmented pieces of the schematics together like a jigsaw puzzle, and then I built the thing. That''s all I''m really doing now - building a second one."


    "A... second..." April took a step back, and narrowed her eyes at me. "Wait, you''ve built this kind of thing <em>before</em>?" I nodded, and walked over to one of the toolboxes I''d had Yes Man bring up; my duster was lying on top of it. I reached inside, and pulled out the Big Mountain Transportalponder!


    "One pull of the trigger on this, and it''ll send me back to the teleporter I built in the Big Empty." April stared at the small ck stic detonator in my hand, the top glowing with crackling blue electricity, and then looked back at the massive pile of parts arranged all over the floor.


    "So... if you''ve already built one, and you have that thing there," she pointed at the Transportalponder! in my hands, "And you know for a fact that it works... why do you need a <strong>second</strong> one?"


    "Because I''m going to take the well known, and thoroughly documented scientific principle of ''more is more,'' and apply it to the teleporter." I shoved the Transportalponder! back in my duster, and when I looked back at April, she still looked confused. "When I looked through the design notes for the teleporter, it was painfully obvious that there are serious limitations with trying to teleport more than one person at a time." Of course, by ''serious'' I meant, of course, ''fatal.'' But she didn''t need to know that right now. "Not to mention, it needs very urate coordinates to function correctly. Pad-to-pad teleportation was the safest method they tested, so I''m going to use that to transport a lot of stuff quickly. Once this one is finished, I''m going to link it to the pad I''ve built in The Sink. Easy."


    "The... Sink?" One of April''s eyes twitched, and her mouth hung open limply. I walked past her and ced two fingers under her chin to close her mouth; that seemed to snap her out of it. "Is... are you talking about a ce?"


    I didn''t get a chance to answer. At that moment, a very familiar buzzing sounded off in my ears, and ED-E suddenly zoomed into the room from somewhere else.


    "Oh, hey buddy," I waved at the eyebot as he came to a stop, hovering over the pile of parts. "What''s up?"


    "Friend_Courier, I believe that there may be an issue developing into a problem." ED-E said. April looked over at the eyebot, and let out a relieved sigh.


    "What is it, boy?" April said with a softugh. "Did Timmy fall down a well?" I buried my face in my hands; the steady hum of ED-E anti-grav generators wavered slightly.


    "April, I don''t think this is the time for-"


    "Friend_Courier, I do not understand." ED-E buzzed around in front of my face, cutting me off. "This is the second time Unknown_Timmy has been mentioned. Cassidy_Rose made a simrment 42 days, 4 hours, 23 minutes and 16 seconds ago. Who is Unknown_Timmy, and why has he/she not died of exposure after all that time?"


    I stared in annoyed disbelief at the robot. Of <em>course</em> he was taking it literally.


    "Look, forget Timmy. Timmy is a joke," I waved my hands, trying to regain my focus. "You said there''s a problem?" ED-E bobbed in ce, nodding.


    "Steel_Veronica is downstairs in the cocktail lounge. Security footage confirms that she has been there for at least 3 hours. She has been consumingrge quantities of chemical form: C2H6O."


    "C-2-H-6-O?" I tried to repeat. "The fuck?" April raised an eyebrow.


    "What does the chemical form for ethanol have to do with anything?" she asked aloud. And the bottlecap dropped.


    "Veronica is getting shitfaced, isn''t she." I deadpanned. ED-E nodded in ce.


    "I do believe that is the technical term for her current state, yes," ED-E buzzed. "An analysis of Steel_Veronica''s exhtion indicates a blood-alcohol content of 0.169%."


    "Ah, fuck..." I muttered. "Alright, we better go check on her... Lead on, buddy." ED-E buzzed away, off toward the elevator.


    "Hold up. If Veronica''s really... want some help?" I heard April speak up. I looked over my shoulder and saw her following me... so I nodded.


    "Yeah... I have a feeling I''m gonna need all the help I can get."


    Ding.


    The elevator doors to the revolving restaurant opened, and I was immediately greeted by the sound of musicing from the overhead speakers. A female voice was singing the lyrics softly and sadly:


    <em>Now here you go again</em>


    <em>You say you want your freedom</em>


    <em>Well, who am I to keep you down?</em>


    <em>It''s only right that you should</em>


    <em>y the way you feel it</em>


    <em>But listen carefully to the sound</em>


    <em>Of your loneliness</em>


    <em>Like a heartbeat, drives you mad</em>


    <em>In the stillness of remembering</em>


    <em>What you had...</em>


    <em>And what you lost...</em>


    <em>And what you had...</em>


    <em>And what you lost...</em>


    "Veronica?" I asked, looking around, as ED-E buzzed along overhead. "You in here?" I scanned this side of the bar, but didn''t see her. From around the bend, I heard a ttering of ss, and rushed to the sound. Sure enough, a figure hooded in a brown robe was slumped face-down on the bar, surrounded by empty sses.


    "Mnnf..." Veronica muttered, waving a hand feebly, knocking over a (mostly) empty bottle next to her. Well, that was good, at least. She wasn''tpletely insensate.


    "Aw, fuck. V?" I asked, cautiously approaching her. "You awake?" I grabbed her by the shoulder, and practically peeled her off the bar. I wasn''t expecting the sight that greeted me when I did. Tears were streaming in great rivers down her face, her eyes were red, and even mucus was... it was <em><strong>bad</strong></em>. This wasn''t the kind of sexy, single-tear-down-the-cheek crying you''d get in old world holotapes. She must have been bawling her eyes out for quite some time.


    "Sh''..." Veronica slurred, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes. "Sh''s g''ne... th- th''re all..." She sniffed loudly, pawing at the bar fruitlessly. "Th''re all g''ne..."


    "Alright, V, c''mon. You''ve had enough..." I grabbed her by the shoulders in a feeble attempt to wrest her from the barstool. It didn''t work. As has been proven many times before, she is quite robust and immovable when she wants to be.


    "Don'' ya see?" Veronica rolled her head around, in an uncoordinated attempt at shaking it. "Th''re all g''ne..."


    "Nobody''s gone, Veronica," I said, still unable to move her. Emily came over to Veronica''s other side to try and help, but if I couldn''t lift V... well...


    "Cass... Chr''stine...''lijah... th''re all... th''re..." Veronica started sobbing, and buried her face in her sleeves. "Ev''n th'' Broth''rhood... fuck, th''y sen'' pe''ple t''kill us..." Oh <strong>no</strong>. She''s hit the depression stage, hasn''t she?


    "Veronica," I spun her around in the barstool to face me. "No, stop this nonsense talk right now. None of that is your fault-"


    "But it... ''tis... don'' ya see?" Veronica grabbed me by the cor, and iled weakly against my left shoulder before her fingers eventually found purchase against my shirt. "All''ve''m are jus''... fuck... I drove ''em all... th'' only thing tha''s..." Veronica leaned forward, practically headbutting me in the middle of the chest, and started sobbing once again. "S''me! Oh, god, s''me! It''s... s''always been me! Ah''m th'' only... An'' th''re all gone!"


    I sighed, gingerly patting the top of Veronica''s head as she clung tightly to my torso. What else was I gonna do?


    "V, c''mon. Stop beating yourself up." I tried desperately to peel her off me. "You''re just drunk, and ming yourself for shit that''s not your-"


    "Ev''ry''ne''s... th''re all... ev''ry''ne s''leavin''..." Veronica squeaked out between bouts of blubbering. "Ev''n yer gonna... I tried''t... an'' yer gonna..." Okay, that''s enough. I gripped her robe with my cybeic arm and lifted with all my strength; she sat up and she looked at me, her gazepletely unfocused.


    "Veronica, get this idea out of your head right now," I said, as firmly as I could. "Nobody is going to leave. <strong>I''m</strong> not gonna leave. I promise. I''m your friend. No matter what happens, I''ll be here to help you out." Veronica blinked at me blearily. "I promise you, V. You can count on me. I''m your friend. No matter what happens, you can always count on me. Now, c''mon. Get up." I stepped to the side, and nodded to Emily to try and help again. "You''re stronger than this. I <strong>know</strong> you''re stronger than this."


    Veronica nodded slowly, and started to get up off the barstool... but immediately slipped. She clutched at both of us and very nearly threatened to bring us down with her. But I held firm, and picked her up, attempting to nt her back on her feet.


    "I... I jus..." Veronica sniffed again, and muttered something incoherent. Finally, she stopped crying long enough to look up at me and say, perfectly clear: "I miss her."


    "I know you do," I said, unsure who exactly she was talking about. But, probably best to reassure her right now, and forget the questions.


    "D''you... d''y''think... Chr''stine still..." Veronica sniffed. Okay, yeah. Now I get it.


    "Yes she does," I said with a nod. "I know she does." Emily looked over at me questioningly, and I shook my head. I mouthed out ''Don''t ask,'' and she seemed to get the message.


    "Ah miss''r..." Veronica said again, unable to properly enunciate anymore. "Ah miss''r so much..." She hung her head and sniffed.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E bobbed down from the ceiling. "I believe I can be of assistance carrying Steel_Veronica." I nodded at him, and the small eyebot bobbed down lower, so that the top of his chassis was right below her head.


    "Nnf..." Veronica looked at ED-E blearily. "H''lo, lil'' beep''r."


    "Hello!" ED-E said happily, pressing his speaker against her; Emily and I practically poured Veronica onto the spherical eyebot, and she drunkenly clung to the floating metal ball. "I will carry Steel_Veronica all the way to her sleeping quarters downstairs."


    "Don''t worry, Shea," Emily said, keeping both hands on Veronica to make sure she didn''t fall off ED-E. "I''ll help her get downstairs, and make sure she''s alright."


    "Mnfuhh..." Veronica mumbled as ED-E buzzed over to the elevator with her draped on top. Soon, the three of them were around the corner and out of sight. The elevator dinged, and I was left all alone with the music still ying over the speakers. I sighed, and shook my head.


    "Fuck," I said, moving back to the bar. I grabbed the nearest bottle - some vodka - and a shot ss, poured myself a shot, and knocked it back in one go.


    Ding.


    The elevator doors opened to the suite, and I stepped out. This has been a long day. I was very tired, and I hoped that I could end the day without any more surprises.


    "OY!" A female voice rang out through the suite, and a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed me by the cor. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged off by Cass into the kitchen. "C''mere, I gotta talk to you."


    "Cass, what-" The next thing I knew, she mmed me up against the wall, pinning me in ce. Part of me was a bit worried, wondering what I''d done - and then, she pressed her lips against mine, and all thoughts existed my head.


    Oh my!


    "There..." Cass whispered huskily when she eventually broke off the kiss. She nipped at my lower lip onest time before finally pulling backpletely, smiling at me with a small lick of her lips. "Got you back."


    "Got... me... what?" I was... having... can''t... word... properly!


    "That was fer catchin'' me off guard when you came back from the Big Empty. Now we''re even," Cass said with a wink. She grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it away from the dining table. "Now, c''mon, have a seat. We gotta talk." She knocked away another chair with her foot, and flopped down.


    "Uh... talk?" I asked curiously. Cass nodded.


    "Look, I''d... I wanna think I''m smart enough to learn from my mistakes, y''know? So I''m gonna try an''..." Cass scratched the back of her head, and her hat fell down over her face. "I don''t wanna make th'' same mistakes twice. I didn''ty down any ground rules with V, an'' that was a mistake..." She pushed her hat back up with her thumb, and nodded at me with the most serious expression I''d ever seen on her. "So, we''re gonna sit down here, an'' -"


    "Cass," I said, unable to hold backughter. I smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder. "It''s okay. You don''t have to... I get it."


    "You do?" She asked curiously.


    "We''ve already talked about this, all the times you talked to me about Veronica," I said, still smiling. "You just want a bit of fun, and I totally get that. I''m cool."


    "You... are?" She said, even more confused that before. I nodded.


    "Cass... I like you for who you are. I will never ask you to be anything you''re not, and I''m not going to try ''im'' you, like some dudes" ordies "might. It''s not my ce." I lifted my hand off her shoulder, and gently caressed her cheek, brushing a few errant strands of hair over her ear. She reached up to touch my hand, and that''s when I realized - that was my cybeic hand, wasn''t it? Wasn''t she freaked out by that the other day? Cautiously, I pulled it away and rested it on her knee. "I''m down for a bit of fun with you, for as long as you want. Doesn''t need to get any moreplicated than that."


    "Well, shit... I had this whole spiel prepared, an''..." Cass chuckled, and shook her head. "I thought for sure this was gonna take a lot longer." I screwed up my face, trying my damndest not tough. So, I just got up out of the chair, and offered her a hand.


    "You know, I could make the obvious joke. But I won''t, because I''m better than that." Cass snorted, grabbed my hand, and stood up.


    "Oh, c''mon, no yer not," she said with a smile. I wrapped my arms around her waist and drew her in close. She smiled, brushing her lips against mine in something that was almost, but not quite entirely unlike a kiss.


    "Yeah, you''re right, I''m not. But that joke''s way too easy."

 Chapter 119: Back and Forth

    Chapter 119: Back and Forth


    Ding


    I was working on the teleporter when I heard the unmistakable sound of the elevator arriving at the penthouse. There were a few indistinct voices, followed by two pairs of footsteps.


    "Yeah, he''s right - Wait, <em>is</em> he here? Sheason, you in here?" That sounded like April. I think. She was usually so busy and hardly spoke to anyone except Yes Man that sometimes I almost forgot what she sounded like.


    "Yeah!" I called back, raising a hand above the console I was working on. "I''m down here!" It wasn''t really all that surprising I wasn''t immediately noticeable. I was lying t on my back, surrounded by chunky bits of metal and huge power cables.


    "Hey Sheason..." I heard a soft voice. I grabbed the top edge of the console and pulled myself up high enough to see Veronica standing next to April.


    "Hey, V..." I stood up, grabbing a nearby rag. I tried to wipe the grease and muck off my hands, but there was far too much of it to get it all. April nodded at me and walked off, presumably back to Emily and Yes Man in the other room, leaving the two of us alone. "You doing alright?" Veronica looked around nervously, tugging at the edges of her hood.


    "I just... yeah. Yeah, I''m doing... I''m fine." Veronica practically mumbled.


    "Hungover?" I asked, stepping around the (mostly)plete tform in the center of the room, and tossed the rag aside. Veronica looked up, even though half of her face was still covered by the hood... and almost smiled.


    "Little bit." Veronica coughed nervously. "Look, Sheason... aboutst-"


    "Don''t worry about it," I said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. Veronica shook her head.


    "No, I gotta... I just... I wanted to thank you." She finally looked up at me. "I don''t really... after my fifth shot, things got... a bit hazy. But I do remember one thing. I remember youing for me. Telling me that you weren''t going to leave. That we''re... even after everything that''s happened, we''re still friends. Hearing that..." Veronica coughed again, and scratched at the back of her hood, sending it back down over her face. "It really... it meant a lot. Thanks."


    "Like I said, don''t worry about it," I smiled as reassuringly as possible and held out a hand which (hopefully) was free of grease. "That''s what friends are for, right?" Veronica slowly reached out to grab my hand... and then pulled me in tight for a hug. Like the kind of hug you''d get from a baling press.


    "Still... thanks." I patted her on the shoulder a few times before finally wriggling free of her vice-like grip. I appreciated the gesture, but any longer and I would''ve been crushed into a small metal cube. Veronica nodded,posed herself, and looked out at the collection of parts that had been slowly taking shape. "So... this is a teleporter, huh?" I nodded, d she was changing the subject. She needs the break from beating herself up, and she''s the only one who can make that happen.


    "Yep. Or, it will be, in about a half hour, once I finish wiring up the quantum resonance coils." I looked to my side, and realized that Veronica was staring. I pointed at the part of the device I''d been working on when she arrived. "The box over there underneath the toaster."


    "You know, it''s kind of surprising," Veronica said, shaking off my previousments with augh. "I expected there to be more sparkly-bits." I shrugged.


    "Well, this one is technically made out of scrap and spare parts. You should see the one in The Sink. That one actually looks like it''s supposed to, all sleek and shiny and sci-fi. But just you wait till I turn this sucker on, you''ll get plenty of sparkly bits when I go all wobbly and disappear."


    "H-uh..." Veronica surveyed the collection of machinery and spare parts all wired together again. "Hey, you mind if I take a look at the schematics? I''m kinda interested in what the blueprints actually look like..."


    "Uh - they''re not here," I said sheepishly. "They schematics I put together are back in The Big Empty, and I never thought to download them to my Pip Boy. So... uh..." Iughed nervously, andprehension dawned upon Veronica''s face.


    "Wait a minute... are you building this <em>from memory</em>?" She asked suspiciously.


    "Well..." I paused,ughing sheepishly. "Yeah. I guess. Got my eye in with the first one, so I suppose I''d have an easier time making another." Of course, I hadn''t really thought about it before. But now that it was brought up, I was starting to ask myself: how <em>was</em> I building this from memory?


    "Maybe my brain''s week-and-a-half long mentats bath had a more permanent effect than I thought?" I conjectured aloud. Veronica deadpanned; unsurprisingly, she hadn''t believed me the other day when I told her that my brain had been scooped out and I just carried on without it for a week.


    "You''re nuts," Veronica said, shaking her head. "You know that, right?" I nodded.


    "Quite possibly."


    "Okay, hang on," Arcade asked, looking around at the assembled group. "Is <strong>everyone</strong> here?"


    "I certainly hope so!" I said, finally snapping thest panel in ce. "I don''t want anybody to miss this!" I took a step back, and paused a moment to take a good look and fully appreciate my endeavors The finished teleport was definitely cruder than the one in The Sink, but it was, surprisingly enough, considerably more streamlined than the three-story collection of junk that Elijah had built outside the Madre. All the correct parts were where they needed to be, and I was certain there was enough powering from the reactors underneath the 38 to power the thing. Everything was as ready as it was going to be.


    I looked back at everyone assembled: April, Emily, Arcade, Cass, Boone, Veronica, ED-E... hell, even Yes Man had transnted his face onto a securitron at the back of the crowd to watch what was about to happen. Which seemed just a little bit pointless, if you ask me, considering he was already in the mainframe <em>in the next room over</em>.


    "Okay, I''ve got a question," April said, holding up a hand. I snapped my fingers and pointed at her, shing a smile.


    "I already know what you''re going to ask," I said, unable to contain my excitement and enthusiasm. "And the reason you''re all gathered here is twofold. Firstly: I know that most of you don''t believe this is <em>actually</em> a teleport. I''m sure you think that I have gonepletely bonkers, which is fair enough as only ED-E has actually seen me use one." <em>Technically</em>, he''s seen me get kidnapped by one, but that''s immaterial.


    "For the 10 days, 11 hours, 57 minutes, and 32 seconds you were absent from my sensors, Friend_Courier, I calcted a 98.76% chance the witnessed effect was molecr disintegration at the atomic level," ED-E buzzed. "It was not easy clinging to that 1.24% chance of your survival, and I was quite relieved <strong>indeed</strong> upon your return!"


    "Thanks for that," I beamed broadly at the eyebot, who bobbed in ce and let out a happy hum. "And the second reason I wanted you all here is because I''m nning on bringing a few things here from the Big Empty. I need to make sure that the receiving pad is clear and empty before I send anything."


    "Informative as all that is," April said with a raised eyebrow. "That <em>wasn''t</em> actually my question. I''m much more interested in <strong>that</strong>." She pointed at me. "What in the name of John von Neumann are you <em>wearing</em>?"


    "Hm? OH! Right, the headset!" I fiddled with the microphone near my mouth, and nced behind me at the enormous metal box strapped to my back. "Yeah, this was... kind of another thing I figured out how to build in the Big Empty. Except, I couldn''t really make it as small. Frankly, I''m amazed I was even able to <em>find</em> an old pilot headset, because without it-" Thankfully, Emily cut me off before I got too off track.


    "What <em>is </em>it?" the redheaded scientist asked. April and Emily looked at each other, nodded, and then both looked back at me expectantly.


    "Sat phone! It sends a signal up to some of the Big MT satellites still in orbit, and transmits a message back down here..." I reached over a flicked a switch on one of therge modified radio consoles, which came to life with a low frequency hum. "...so you can hear me when I''m in The Big Empty!" As I spoke, my voice also issued from a speaker on the console. "And I can hear you as well, so long as you speak into the box. It''s really thirsty, though. I''ve got, like, 10 microfusion cells in the backpack, and that''ll only provide enough juice for about an hour and a half."


    "Is that another thing you built from memory?" Veronica asked, clearly thinking this was all bullshit. I shook my head, and held up my Pip Boy, tapping the monitor several times.


    "Nope!" I said, lying through my teeth. Didn''t need to add any more fuel to <em>that</em> particr fire. "So, any more questions?"


    "I have one:" Arcade spoke up. "When you say, you <em>need</em> to make sure the pad is empty... what does that <em>mean</em>? What would happen if it <em>wasn''t</em> empty?" Arcade was obviously running through several unpleasant possibilities in his head, if his worried expression was anything to go by. I shrugged.


    "I honestly have <strong>no idea</strong>. But - and I''m guessing here - I''m <em>pretty sure</em> that whatever would happen, it would almost certainly be the exact opposite of <strong>good</strong>. So, because work needs to be done, I''m not really interested in finding out what happens <em>today</em>." That didn''t seem to improve Arcade''s mood in the slightest. I looked around, to see if anyone else was curious about anything, and eventually settled on Cass. At first, I couldn''t tell if she was trying to get my attention, or just scratching her face.


    "If this doesn''t work, can I have your car?" Cass asked with a smile, to let me know she was joking. Hopefully. I justughed.


    "Only if I arrive inside out. Anyone else?" Silence. "Alright!" I said with a p of my hands, rubbing my palms together. "Let''s light this candle!"


    I stepped on the tform, and plugged my Pip Boy into the swivel console next to me. A few keystrokester, and the room shook with a heavy thud, and the tform beneath my feet glowed with a steadily rising blue light. The panels above my head shuddered, and began to slowly spin above my head, which I took as the queue to quickly disconnect my Pip Boy. Dials and readouts on the various panels surrounding the room made noises and shed lights that built in intensity, and everything - even the air - seemed to tingle and vibrate.


    "Should we... maybe step back?" Boone asked aloud, amusingly unaware that everyone else (even Yes Man) had already started backing up. A multicolored oil-slick ribbon swirled around me from the tform below my feet, and another emerged from the panels above my head. When they met in the middle, I waved from within the unbroken column of light.


    "See you soon!" My voice carried a strange Doppler effect, like I was talking into a fan, seconds before the simr sensation of a hook grabbing me deep inside my gut took hold.


    Everything around me disappeared.


    The smell of ozone filled my nostrils and my eyes slowly regained focus. The sensation of being in two ces at once ceased, and my feetnded on firm ground. The streaks of blue lightning surrounding me faded away into nothing. I looked around, and was very happy to see that I was standing directly on the teleport tform in The Sink. Apart from the giant metal backpack, it was almost like I never left.


    "Hey, guys?" I tapped the mic. "Are you reading me? It worked! I''m here!" The earpiece surrounded my left ear crackled with nothing but static for a few seconds. And then it dawned on me. "Oh, yeah, I forgot! You have to hit transmit - big blue button next to the speaker." Again, several seconds of static. And then:


    "-ot it! Sheason!" Cass'' voice in my ear sounded very relieved. "Sheason, you okay? It really worked?" I could hear other indistinct voices in the background.


    "Sorry, y''ain''t gettin'' my car today!" I said with a smile.


    "Wee home, sir," Jeeves'' familiar ented voice echoed from the speakers above my head. "Will sir be staying for some time, or is sirs arrival merely a fleeting visit before sir once again heads off for parts unknown?"


    "Hey, Jeeves! Well, I-" I didn''t get a chance to say any more than that because I was suddenly tackled off the tform by a giant (and quite heavy) mass of fur and metal barking at me. The next thing I knew, I was t on my ass with the enormous cyberdog pinning me there, licking my face over and over again.


    "Augh! Ah-heh! Rox! Roxie! Easy, girl! Settle!" She didn''t. "Ah, I missed you too," I started scratching her behind the ear, and she finally stopped licking me. Instead, she started panting hot breath right into my face. I''m not sure which I preferred.


    "Alright, get off me a second..." I pushed against the massive dog, and she dly jumped off. When I stood up, she trotted around my legs several times in that particr wayrge, excitable dogs do when they see someone they like that they haven''t seen for more than several hours. "Hey, Rox? How''d you like to meet some new people?" Roxie looked up at me curiously, tilting her head... and then barked loudly, wagging her tail. "Excellent!"


    "Sir?" Jeeves spoke up. "May I ask what it is that you are nning?"


    "Oh, not much. Sit." I said aloud, half talking to Jeeves, and half to Roxie. She followed my finger, and sat dutifully on the center of the teleport pad. "Good girl. Just going to be sending a few things back to the Mojave. Roxie isn''t a thing, granted, but I don''t want her to get lonely. I know how dogs can pine."


    "She certainly has seemed less enthusiastic than normal during your short absence, sir." Jeeves said. I nodded, punching a few coordinates into the swiveling console that corresponded to the numbers in my Pip Boy.


    "Exactly. Dogs - even cyborg ones - need people, just like we need them. So I''m sending her to a ce with <em>lots </em>of great ones." Every readout on the panel read green. Excellent! The two teleporters were nowpletely linked! That was going to make things easy. "Alright, Rox? Sit still. This may feel a little strange." I tapped the mic near my mouth. "Guys? I''m sending Roxie over. Stand back."


    "Understood," I heard a voice crackle in my ear; it was Emily this time. "We''re ready to receive this Roxie person." Guess I should''ve been more specific. Ah well, they''ll figure it out soon enough.


    Something I noticed after I hit the ''energize'' button: almost all of my experience with teleportation has always been as the recipient of said teleport. But watching it happen to someone who wasn''t me was... everything seemed to go a lot faster. The ribbons of multicolored light swirled around quicker, and there was only a fraction of a second of ozone and lightning before reality started to bend and warp around Roxie. Half a secondter, there was a sh and a noise almost (but not quite) like a shbang going off, and all that was left after was a slowly cooling tform surrounded by blue sparks suspended in evaporating columns of light.


    "Is The Sink to be emptied then, sir?" Jeeves asked as I walked away from the teleport room. Sounds erupted in my ear, and I was satisfied that it worked; someone must have had hit the transmit button, presumably to <em>tell</em> me specifically that everything worked, but all I could hear was the sound of several voices all fawning over the adorable dog, and Roxie barking happily.


    "Eventually, yes," I said, looking around the familiar cold, gunmetal-grey space. "You guys are all very useful, and I''d like to be able to share your gifts with the rest of the world atrge..." Off the top of my head, I thought of the manufacturing capabilities of Jeeves'' replicator, the food cloning technology of the Biological Research Station, and the advanced medical procedures offered by the down-to-earth, straight talking Auto-Doc. "... but I don''t want to rip you guys from your respective chassis-" Wait. Is the plural of chassis <em>still </em>chassis? The mind boggles. "-with nowhere to put you all when youe to the Mojave."


    "That is most certainly an agreeable proposition, if I may make so bold, sir," Jeeves said. "While I was unaware of the passage of time during my long deactivation, the knowledge provided once my internal clock was reactivated provided most disheartening."


    "Exactly," I nodded at the various appliances as I walked through The Sink. "So, be sure to put on the agenda ''look at all the schematics for the various personality constructs in The Sink,'' so I can reconstruct some proper homes for you all outside the crater."


    "With the exception of the Toaster, certainly," Jeeves said. "No one will want him around, sir."


    "Oh, of course," I said with a smirk. "We can always do with less of his overly dramatic, megalomaniacal, and antisocial ranting." As it happened, I was just passing by the Toaster as I said this, and his heating coils lit up fiercely, sending out a tiny puff of smoke.


    "INSOLENT FOOLS! All of you! All will be CONSUMED in fire, and covered in overly burnt bread crumbs!"


    "Calm down, you psychotic piece of tin," I said with augh. "I''m just kidding."


    "Hey! Hey!" The Toaster shook as it spoke, apparently changing gears at the drop of a hat. "I got a... super-rare... Mojave... er... snowglobe here! All you gotta do is reach down into my bread slot!" I sighed heavily.


    "You keep that up, and I''ll drop you in a bathtub," I said, walking away. The Toaster let out a roar of agony and rage.


    "If you do, you shall rue the day! For the day will surelye when you - and all of my enemies besides! - have bread... <em><strong>and no way to toast it!</strong></em>" I shook my head and snorted out augh.


    "Dat boy''s got some... <em>issues</em>, daddy-o," Blind Diode Jefferson chimed in. I patted the old Jukebox as I passed.


    "So, may I inquire as to what sirs n consists of today?" Jeeves asked as I stepped into the bedroom.


    "I''m going to take the most mobile things and individuals, and send them to the teleport pad I built in the Mojave. Speaking of which: SASHA!" I yelled, spreading my arms wide as my gaze fell upon therge minigun sitting on the end of the bed. "I am returned!"


    "Ah! K! Is wonderful to see you once more! Is there eety-beety-teeny-tiny baby men in need of killing?"


    "Sort of," I said with a nod, hefting the minigun off the bed. "You know how I couldn''t bring you with me when I left for the Mojave? I''ve found a workaround!"


    "!" Sasha eximed in a virtual shout, the braincase barking loudly. "This is excellent news! "


    "It certainly is." I looked around The Sink as I carried Sasha to the teleport pad. "Wait, hang on. Something is missing..." The bottlecap dropped, and I realized I should''ve said some<em>one</em> is missing. "Where''s Stripe? Now I''m thinking about it, I''m surprised he didn''t leap on me when I arrived along with Roxie."


    "I believe, sir, that Master Stripe is out in the crater, hunting for food," Jeeves said as I walked past the Auto-Doc; the box snored loudly and muttered something unintelligible. "M''colleague has a theory about Master Stripe''s recent behavior, and I''m inclined to agree..."


    "Enough talk of theory!" Sasha bellowed from my arms as I walked into the teleport chamber. "We must have action!"


    "Indeed, Sash! I agree!" I smiled, setting the minigun on the tform. It was a bit tricky, but I was able to bnce the minigun in such a way that every part of it was located within the bounds of the tform on the floor. "And speaking of action, be prepared for a kaleidoscope of color." I tapped the mic again. "You get all that? I''m sending over Sasha. The pad is clear, right?"


    "Yeah, you''re clear," Cass said after a burst of static in my ear. "I don''t think Veronica or Emily are ever going to stop petting that dog."


    "Excellent! See you on the other side, Sash - and brace yourself. This may be a novel sensation." I hit the energize button, and right before the minigun disappeared in a sh of light, Sasha managed to get in thest word:


    "Brace myself with <strong>what</strong>?" The teleporter wound down, and I shook my head.


    "Sir, if I may be so impertinent as to interrupt you for a moment," Jeeves spoke up, and I walked over to the circr central table as he spoke. "I believe that the Biological Research Station has some news for sir."


    "We really gotta find a better name for him," I muttered, thinking on the strange dichotomy of how certain personalities in The Sink had names like people, and others were basically just named like the appliances they were built into. When I stepped into the other room, I heard the feminine, slightly British voice of the Sink bickering with the Biological Research Station.


    "Oh, for the love of Moses Nelson Baker! If I''ve told you once, you nauseating Casanova wannabe, I''ve told you a thousand times: <strong>NO!</strong>"


    "C''mon, baby," the Biological Research Station practically moaned. "The two of us can make some sweet, sweet science together! What do you say?"


    "I''d rather wave a ma across my processors before interfacing with a lecherous old hump like you," the Sink shot back.


    "Hey, can you two stop fighting for a minute?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe, and pointing at the Biological Research Station. "Jeeves tells me you have news?"


    "Oh yeah, baby! I got those coffee beans cloned up for you, with that sweet seed you gave me! They''re all ready to go, and waiting for you to light their fire..." I looked around the room, and saw that all the nters had several various types of greenery growing out of them, and sitting on a table near one of the walls was arge bup sack with "COFFEE" printed on the side in bold ck letters.


    "Really?" My face lit up, and I hefted therge sack of coffee beans. "Holy shit, that''s fantastic! I didn''t think it''d be ready by now. I want to get this back to the 38 as soon as possible... but first, I have a more important question for both of you."


    "Yes?" The two personality constructs said at once, in one of their rare moments of agreement.


    "Do you two have regr names, like Jeeves or Muggy or Jefferson? Because, and I''m really sorry about this, but... GS-2000 Biological Research Station? That''s way too much of a mouthful. And as for you," I turned to the Sink. "You''re the Sink in The Sink. That''s way too confusing. So - names?"


    "I... uh..." the Sink stammered out; she was apparently so flustered, that the spigot let out a short burst of water. "I don''t... I mean... No one has ever... I''ve just never... thought about... oh dear."


    "Right, you take your time to think, and I''ll get back to you," I turned to the Biological Research Station and snapped my fingers. "What about you? Any botanists and/or soul singers you a fan of?"


    "I tell you, baby," he said slowly. "I don''t know why. But I''ve always liked the name Barry. Sounds like the name of a man used to gettin'' it on, you know what I''m sayin''?"


    "Almost wish I didn''t, Barry." I couldn''t help but shake my head.


    The world shifted into focus once again as my feet found purchase in the Lucky 38. I don''t know if it was just my mind ying tricks on me, but teleporting while wearing the Stetson and sunsses seemed to soften the blow of the teleport. Or maybe it just did a decent job of blocking out the light. Either way.


    "There you are!" Cass said as I stepped off the teleport tform. "Where''ve you been? And what happened to that backpack thing you... were..." She trailed off, her eyes fixed on the roll of duct tape in my hands. "What are -" I tore off a strip, and taped down the big blue ''transmit'' button on therge speaker system next to her.


    "Just a little quick fix until I figure out a more permanent solution. Hey, Jeeves?" I tapped the speaker several times. "Is it working? Can you hear me?"


    "Indeed, sir," Jeeves voice crackled to life. "It would seem your modifications have taken root swimmingly."


    "Oh, hello!" Yes Man spoke up over the speakers in the ceiling. "Is that the voice of another synthetic personality I hear?"


    "I most certainly am. A most heartfelt and cordial salutations, sir. I am the electronic valet and household central processor in The Sink. My name is Jeeves."


    "Why, hello there! I''m a PDQ-88b Securitron, currently residing in the Lucky 38''s mainframe! But you can call me Yes Man!"


    "Alright," I said, wrapping an arm around Cass'' shoulder and leading her away. "That should keep the two of them upied for a while. C''mon, I got something I think you''ll enjoy!"


    "Oh boy. I''m not sure I want to know..." Cassughed nervously. I just grinned at her and held up the bup sack in my hands right in front of her.


    "Coffee! Real, honest-to-fuck coffee! Not that coyote tobo, honey mesquite shit we brew all the time!" I gripped her tight, holding the bag of beans high, and looking up with a manic, wide eyed, crazy grin. "Just think... in a few minutes, we will have the first honest, real coffee in 200 years!"


    "Shea, you''re starting to weird me out here..."


    "Is it ready yet?" April asked. It didn''t take long for word to spread that I had coffee, and everyone was crowding around, wanting a cup. Even Cass had warmed to the idea, once she''d got a whiff of the ground up coffee beans. So, here we all were, crowded around the tiny kitchen in the penthouse, waiting for the pot to finish percting.


    "Not much longer... I think." It certainly smelled ready. I was just about to pour myself a cup when suddenly, I heard something unexpected: a crackle of electricity, and a pop from the level above us. The teleporter was activating? But who could -


    "OH MY GOD!" A small, neurotic voice yelled from the teleporter. "Where are the coffee mugs?! I heard somebody had them!" The next thing I knew, a tiny securitronunched itself off the railing, and dropped like a stone, screen-first into the middle of us.


    "Muggy?" I asked, a bit bewildered. "What are you - <em>How</em> are you here? I thought your personality chip was still in The Sink?" The tiny securitron pushed up off the floor and righted himself on his single wheel, looking up at all of us.


    "Jeeves told me you took a bag of coffee through the teleporter! Coffee means mugs! Fresh mugs! Mugs to clean! I need the mugs! PLEASE! TELL ME YOU HAVE THE <strong>MUGS</strong>!" Muggy ranted hysterically, spinning in tiny circles iling his tiny arms... until April picked him up. She cradled the tiny, iling securitron like she was holding a teddy bear.


    "Oh my god!" For the first time since I met her, April actually smiled. It was a strange image for someone who I only knew as a stoic workaholic. "I didn''t know they made securitrons this small! He''s just... oh, he''s so adorable!"


    "Augh!" Muggy yelled. "Stop! Halt! Alto! Put me down, woman! I''m - Wait, what?" Suddenly, the tiny robot wentpletely still. "A-adorable? You think I''m... <em>adorable?</em>"


    "I must apologize for the most unwee intrusion, sir," Jeeves voice echoed out of the speakers above me. "But I''m afraid that I was unable to stop his use of the quantum tunneling device. Frankly, sir, I''m astounded that he is still functional and mobile so far from The Sink."


    "Is it bad that I''m starting to get used to this?" Emily asked, turning to Arcade. He just shrugged.


    "Are you going to pour that?" Boone asked, staring at me. "Or are you just going to hold the pot all day?" In all the confusion, I''dpletely forgotten about the pot of coffee in my hands... so I shrugged, and poured myself a cup.


    "Alright..." I held the piping hot liquid near my nose, taking in the heady aroma. That smelled <em>really</em> good... "Down the hatch!"


    It was like a choir of angels had begun to sing.


    The sun rose over the sweeping vista of jagged, snow capped mountains, sending rays of heavenly light like spears in every direction. The light danced off the swirling clouds in the sky, each ray bouncing and reflecting in a rainbow of every conceivable color imaginable - and even some never before imagined. The sky split apart in a crack of thunder, and suddenly the entirety of the universe made itself known. Nebs of interster gas, ribbons of stars orbiting each other, ck holes and gxies spinning forever in the vast emptiness of the unknowable infinite reaches of eternity...


    Everything was possible.


    "Shea?" I heard a voice like it wasing from a million miles away, finally bringing me back to my senses. I blinked several times, and realized that Cass was waving a hand in my face, snapping her fingers in front of my eyes. "Are you okay?" I smiled, nodding at the half-finished coffee still in my shaking hands.


    "That''s <strong>really</strong> good coffee!" I finally managed to say.


    I was back in the Big Empty, at the entrance to the Think Tank dome. In my hands, I had half a dozen disks - the same kind of maic teleport signal receivers I''d used to send the drive-in satellite back into orbit. In front of me was the deuce and a half, untouched and still parked where I''d left it the other day.


    "Oh yeah," I said aloud to nobody, unable to keep from grinning. "This is definitely going to work." I set the first of the metal disks onto the radiator grill, and ittched itself to the metal with an audible thunk.


    And then, I heard <em>another</em> thunk. Where did that...


    "Kurrrrrr... yerrrr?" I heard a voice growl out from somewhere above me. It wasn''t a particrly deep voice, but it was very guttural and scratchy... It almost reminded me of a familiar squeak but... no. No, that wasn''t possible. That was just... that was <em>impossible</em>. Slowly - cautiously - I looked up. A shadow was perched on top of the cab. Two tiny pinpricks shone out of the darkness, staring right at me. I heard a strange pulsating purr from the shadow as it leapt onto the hood with a heavy thud.


    "... Stripe?" I asked aloud. The tiny deathw with the white mohawk walked on all fours, and slunk into the light. He gripped the edge of the hood and stared right at me. The only thing is... he <em>wasn''t</em> all that tiny. Not anymore. He was quite a lot bigger than he was the other day. Probably two and a half feet tall, if he stood up on both legs instead of crawling along on all fours. His horns were slightlyrger, and were starting to curve. The ws on the end of his hands were <strong>definitely</strong> ws now. But he was still unmistakably Stripe. He leaned forward, and snorted several times right in my face. Sniffing the air... smelling me.


    "Kur-yer!" Stripe squawked out, opening his toothy mouth wide... and before I knew what was happening, a very long, ck, slimy tongue dragged itself across my face.


    I was a bit too stunned to do anything else for a few minutes.


    "O- okay..." I stared at Stripe, and he stared back at me, tilting his head. "That... that was definitely you speaking, right? I wasn''t hearing things?"


    "Indeed you are not, sir," Jeeves'' said, from an unseen speaker somewhere. "Over thest 24 hours, Master Stripe has been learning to vocalize." Stripe arched his gaze up, and snapped his jaws at the speaker several times before looking back down at me.


    "Hell-ooooooo..." Stripe leaned forward again and made that same gurgling, clicking noise. "You... kur-yer. Smell... n... al-pha." I justughed nervously several times, pointing at Stripe.


    "Jeeves! H-how is he doin'' that?!" I asked aloud, just a tiny bit panicky. "I didn''t think deathws could speak!"


    "As I said earlier, sir, m''colleague has a theory regarding Master Stripe''s recent behavior." Jeeves said. Stripe leaned in close and sniffed the palm of my hand, before nuzzling the side of his head against it. "As Master Stripe does not possess lips, m''colleague believes that Master Stripe instead uses an organ within his trachea called a syrinx, and vocalizes by expelling air across a bifurcated trachea, in much the same way as many extinct species of Parrot."


    "Parrr-ut?" Stripe asked.


    "And... and the size?" I leaned around, trying to better grasp of just how much <em>bigger</em> Stripe had be. "Does the Auto-Doc have a theory about that, as well?" Almost out of habit, I ran my hand along Stripe''s furry mohawk, and he shuddered, clicking louder and arching his back into my hand.


    "If I understand the events correctly, sir, you found Master Stripe in Higgs Vige, yes?" Jeeves asked. I nodded. "There is only one still functioning source of food in the Higgs warehouse, sir, and that is the chemced doggie chow dispenser, set up to feed Dr. Borous'' pet, Gabe."


    "Chow?" Stripe asked. He seemed prettyfortable with <em>that</em> word, like he''d practiced it a lot.


    "Okay..." I didn''t figure out what the connection was. "What does that have to do with anything?"


    "M''colleage believes that the chems in Master Stripe''s system stunted his growth. It has taken several days of ''natural'' food - unprocessed meat, and so on - for the drugs to exit." Stripe growled happily, snapping his jaws twice.


    "Meeeeeat?"


    "Alright, I need you guys to promise..." I said, talking to everyone gathered around the teleporter in the 38. With the exception of April (who was still fawning over Muggy), almost everyone was here. All of them still had their coffee, though, which I thought was kinda funny. "Whatever happens next, you need to trust me. Okay?"


    "I don''t even know why you keep calling us back here," Arcade shook his head, clearly a bit annoyed. "Even <strong>I</strong> will admit that this teleporter works, beyond all reason and logic. You don''t need to keep proving it."


    "This isn''t about... Just... promise me you guys won''t shoot whates out next?" Everybody tensed up, and looked nervously at one another. Even Boone had paused mid-sip to raise an eyebrow. "Jeeves? Is Stripe in position?"


    "Yes, sir. Master Stripe is, indeed, sitting on the tform."


    "Then send him over." I braced myself, making sure to position myself between them and the tform. It hummed to life, glowing brightly. The panels above the tform spun, arcing a thick bolt of electricity from the top, directly onto the center of the tform. The air warped and bloated, shing brightly with a loud pop. And when the light died away...


    "HOLY SHIT!"


    "What the <strong>FUCK</strong>?!"


    "Fuckin'' Christ, man! What the hell!"


    Stripe spun in ce at the noise, staring up at the assembled group of people all yelling, and me trying to calm them down.


    "Whoa! Whoa!" I held out my arms, trying to put as much of myself between them and Stripe as possible. "Boone! Stand down!" The coffee cup that had been in his hands seconds ago had been unceremoniously dropped, crashing on the ground with a shatter of ceramic and a ssh of coffee; he was already reaching for the revolver on his belt. "All of you... calm down. This is Stripe. He''s a friend of mine I found in the Big Empty. Just like Roxie."


    Everyone started backing up, and the only sound I heard was the soft clicking from behind me. Slowly, I spun in ce and knelt down to get closer to the mini deathw''s eye level.


    "Stripe... I want you to meet my friends," I said. He cocked his head curiously, looking around me.


    "They... you n?" Stripe muttered, gurgling again. Gasps of shock and surprise rippled behind me. "Like... Rox?" I nodded, petting his mohawk. He purred happily, and his tail swished back and forth several times.


    "That''s right. They''re my... n. Exactly like Roxie." And speaking of the cyberdog:


    "BARK!" the sound echoed through the penthouse seconds before the enormous cyberdog bounded into the room, practically skidding into me. Stripe let out a happy sounding squawk.


    "Rox!" Stripe yelled, pressing his snout right up against the cyberdog''s nose. The two of them sniffed at each other, after which Roxie barked, licking the tiny deathw''s face; Stripe squeaked - in exactly the same manner that he used to - and returned the gesture. The two of them looked right at me after they were finished... and then <strong>both</strong> of them started to lick my face.


    "Okay," I heard April say, from somewhere in the back behind everyone else. "Yeah. Forget what I said earlier. <strong>Definitely</strong> not getting used to this..."


    "So... you have a pet deathw..." Cass said, following me as I walked through the car park underneath the Lucky 38. "... that can speak. And has a mohawk." She looked down at Roxie and Stripe, who were both underfoot and following me. Sheughed nervously. "Is this what going insane feels like?"


    "Probably!" I smiled at her, adjusting my grip on the half dozen metal poles resting on my shoulder. "You''ve got the parabolic antenna and the cables, right?" She looked down, at the collection of parts in the sack slung over her shoulder.


    "Uh... well, yeah. What''re we even doing down here, anyway?"


    "There''s onest thing I want to bring over here from the Big Empty. It''s a bit toorge toe through the personal teleport upstairs... So, I''vee up with a bit of a cheat." As I spoke, I grabbed one of the poles, hit a button which caused the tripod-feet on the side to snap out, and set it on the ground. One by one, I set the rest of the six poles on the ground at roughly equidistant point, all constructed in the rough shape of a rectangle.


    "You <em>came up</em> with it?" Cass asked. I nodded, reaching into the sack she was carrying, and started hooking up all the poles with the various cables.


    "Yeah! It''s like I was telling Emily, earlier. One teleport beam isn''t strong enough to transport something sorge, so I''m sticking with the idea that ''more is more,'' and activating several at once, all working in tandem." I smiled at her, waggling my eyebrows. One of her eyes twitched.


    "How did you... I mean, this is... When did youe up with this?" I shrugged, grabbing the small folding antenna.


    "The coffee may or may not have had something to do with it." The dish clicked, and the device unfolded into a proper parabolic reflecting dish, which I set on the ground, pointed in the general direction of the teleporter upstairs. "Now, stand back. This is gonna be cool!" I pulled out onest thing from the bag under Cass'' arm - a small remote.


    "You brought a <em>talking</em><em>deathw</em>st time," Cass said, backing up. Roxie and Stripe, by contrast, were sitting on either side of me,pletely unfazed by anything going on. "I''m almost afraid of what''sing next..."


    I turned the dial on the remote to the maximum setting, and hit therge button in the center. Immediately, the small feed antenna sticking out of the center of the dish lit up with a bright blue light. The edges of each of the six poles also lit up, and several beams of thin blue light, likeser beams, burst out of the ends, and connected each of the poles in a dizzying array of criss-crossing beams. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and a loud hum began to echo off every surface in the car park. Bolts of lightning arced within the cage ofser beams, swirling and crackling, and the air within the light cage boiled and warped,rger than I''d ever seen before.


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    The final sh was apanied by what felt like a sonic boom. A st of wind hit me in the face, and I involuntarily averted my gaze from the st. The noise died down, the light died down, and the wind once again became still. When I looked back up, the deuce-and-a-half truck was sitting within the rectangle made by the poles. The bodywork was smoking slightly, and all the disks I could see were still stuck to the side and glowing faintly.


    I turned with a wide grin to look at Cass, very pleased with myself that it worked. She was just staring at the truck, utterly confused. Finally, she sighed and shook her head.


    "I don''t... I can''t even... I just... This doesn''t..." Cass buried her face in one of her hands, and startedughing softly, before looking back up at me. "You''re nuts, man. You know that right?"


    "Yes. Yes, I do," I smiled back at her. Stripe gurgled in agreement, and Roxie barked happily.

 Chapter 120: The Transmission

    Chapter 120: The Transmission


    It was Sunday morning, and I think everyone in the Lucky 38 had finally gotten used to Stripe running around since his arrival yesterday. At least... <em>somewhat </em>used to him. Hopefully. And thanks to the audio link up in the penthouse, everyone had been talking to Jeeves and the other personalities in the Think Tank. With the exception of the Toaster and the Book Chute, all the people and personalities living in both nuthouses seemed to be getting along. And, obviously, everyone was in love with Roxie. So, I was looking forward to a nice, calm, stress-free, ''Lazy Sunday.''


    "Alright, so what''s the problem?" I asked with my coffee mug in hand, looking up at the wide open truck door. Cass was sitting in the drivers seat of the deuce and a half, frantically looking at the various controls like they werepletely alien


    "I''ll tell you what th'' fuckin'' problem is!" She yelled, swiveling around in the seat to face me. She looked about ready to give up. "How th'' fuck do you even <strong>start</strong> one''ve these things? There''s no key!" She looked back at the dashboard, scoffed in frustration, and shook her head. "Hell, half this shit ain''t evenbeled!"


    "What, have you never driven one of these before?" I asked, hopping onto the door sill and leaning into the cab. Cass leaned back and sighed.


    "Obviously not," Cass shook her head again. "I mean, there''s a button here that says ''start,'' but nothin''s happenin'', so I''m guessin'' that''s a trick."


    "It <strong>is</strong> a trick!" I said with a smile. Cass rolled her eyes and slid back across the bench-like seat, allowing me ess to the drivers seat.


    "I give. What''s the secret?"


    "Alright," I said, sliding into ce. "The very first thing you''ve got to do: pull the parking brake." I reached down in the space between the left edge of the bench-like seat, and the drivers door, pulling up on the chunky lever with a heavy, solid clunk.


    "Wait, <em>that''s</em> what that is?" Cass leaned across me to get a better look at it.


    "I know that seems like a strange ce to put it, but putting it there rather than in the middle like usual actually makes it much easier to change gear with this <em>enormous</em> shifter." I jiggled the gear stick that was sticking out of the middle of the floor. "And that''s good, because when you drive one of these things, you''re going to be shifting A LOT. Be prepared to shift like you''ve never shifted before."


    "You made your point, that''s enough about the shifter!" Cassughed. I just smiled and shook my head.


    "No, that''s not enough about the shifter, because the next thing is making sure you''re in neutral. Reverse and first are unsynchronized, and the gearbox can actually disengage into neutral without the clutch, so you''ve got to be careful you don''t knock it into neutral and leave it there by ident while you''re on the move, because that''ll kill the engine." I thought back to the perilous Hexcrete Archipgo, where I did <em>exactly that</em>pletely unintentionally. "Yeah, you don''t want to do that." Cass nodded.


    "That definitely seems like a bad deal."


    "Next, you''ve got to push in and turn the Engine Stop." I grabbed a small metal T-handle, almost directly below and down to the left of the steering wheel. "You turn it clockwise to 90 degrees. Or until you hear a clunk. Whicheveres first."


    "O-okay..." She seemed a bit confused by that. "What next?"


    "Next, you flip the essory switch," I said, grabbing arge metal level to the right of the steering wheel. It flipped up with a heavy clunk, and the dashboard echoed with a soft hum that slowly and steadily got louder. "And now, you''ve just got to wait until all the dials warm up. Takes a while, since they''re all so old and finicky and cobbled together from six different wrecks in the Big Empty." I tapped the dials, and the oil pressure needle wobbled. "Anyway, once the electronics are woken up, the rest is real simple. Push in the clutch, hit the stop/start button, and give it a bit of gas." The whole cab trembled as the suddenly rumbling engine gurgled into life. "See? Simple."


    "You know..." Cass leaned back, shaking her head at the dashboard. "The ''stop'' being the key to starting it is just a little bit misleading." Iughed, pushing the stop/start button again, and pulling out the Engine Stop. The noise started to die down as the engine slowly cycled to a stop.


    "That''s fair. But, you know, if it does get too confusing, I suppose we can always let Roxie drive." Cass was definitely a bit taken aback by thatment. And when I saw Roxie leap into the passenger seat, silent as a ghost, and lean around Cass... Part of me wanted to warn her, but <strong>all</strong> of me wanted to see her reaction.


    "BARK!"


    "HOLY FUCK!" Cass practically jumped out of her skin. "How long have you been there?!" Roxie just panted happily. When Cass calmed down enough, Roxie nuzzled against her, and then rested her head in Cass''p.


    "Yeah, she does that," I smiled, reaching over to scratch the cyberdog behind the ears.


    "So, where''d you learn how to drive one of these things, anyway?" Cass asked.


    "A few years back, long beforeing to the Mojave, I worked for a small shippingpany just outside the Pornd ruins. They ran packages up and down to all the settlements and towns along the Columbia River. In the beginning it was mostly lead-lined boats, so they could navigate that rad-infested, scummy piece of shit, but right before I signed up, they acquired a small fleet of old deuce-and-a-half trucks."


    "A small fleet?" Cass raised an eyebrow. I nodded... and couldn''t help butugh to myself when I looked down, and saw that she was absentmindedly petting the dog resting on herp.


    "Yeah, by ''a small fleet,'' I mean ''six.'' Well..." I thought back to that job, and how most of the trucks were broken almost all of the time. Iughed to myself. "<em>Three</em>. Thepany went under pretty soon after. It''s possible that maintenance was a lot more expensive than they were expecting, but personally I think it''s because the people they hired couldn''t drive stick. Every time one''ve those muppets took a truck out, the gearbox woulde back in pieces."


    "Let me guess," Cass chuckled, shaking her head at me. "You were th'' only one they could count on, right?" I shrugged, hopping out of the drivers seat.


    "Well, I <em>am</em> the Courier, after all..." I started to walk around the truck, but stopped mid-stride: the familiar sound of ED-E buzzing into the car park, and echoing off every b of concrete. Sure enough, he came zipping into view and came to a stop several feet away, right above the deuce''s engine. "Oh, hey, buddy! What-"


    "F-fri-e-e-e-end_C-c-c-courie-e-e-er!" ED-E stammered. His whole chassis shook as he spoke, and the bottom of my stomach fell out. "Somethi-i-i-ing i-i-is-s-s-" Suddenly, a small light under his speaker grill blinked red, apanied by four shrill beeps; with thest beep, the light turned a solid green. ED-E stopped talking, he stopped shaking... he just hovered there,pletely still and silent for a few seconds.


    "ED-E?" I asked, walking over to him cautiously. I couldn''t quite reach him, as he was hovering a good 2 feet directly above the middle of the deuce''s chin-height hood. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?" He methodically swiveled in ce, and his speaker grill pointed directly at me.


    The voice that emerged out of the speaker made my blood turn to ice.


    "Courier Six..." Growled an unmistakable voice: that Other Courier. "Why didn''t I take the job? <strong>You</strong>. You were the reason." My eyes went wide as my brain finally made the connection. An image shed in my head from all the way back when I went to Primm, and talked to Johnson Nash about the tinum Chip job:


    "<em>His expression turned right around, asked me if your name was for real. I said, sure asck ''o rain, that''s the name I''d been handed. Then he turned down the job, just like that. I asked if he was sure, it was good money. Nope. Let ''Courier Six'' carry the package, that''s what he said. Then he just up and walked out."</em>


    Talking with Christine in the Madre... listening to the holotapes in his hideout in the Big Empty... I was amazed that I hadn''t made the connection until now. He wasn''t just <em>an </em>Other Courier. He truly was <em>THE</em> Other Courier! What the fuck?!


    "What is-" Cass began, leaning out of the deuce. I held up a hand, cutting her off by shushing her as harsh and loud as I could; I was focused intently on the voice speaking through the eyebot. This was important. Extremely important - <em>to me</em> - and I didn''t want to miss <strong>anything</strong>.


    "See The Divide," The Other Courier growled. "See what happened. What was done. What <strong>you</strong> did... Your world stripped bare. All its beasts. Its shadows. Its horror." The Other Courier paused, exhaling loudly. "I have a message for you. Come find me. You know the way. Bring all your weapons. Bring your convictions. Bring all you can carry... and at The Divide, you and I? We''ll... have an <em>ending </em>to things. This message... it is <strong>your</strong> burden, and yours alone to bear. When youe to walk the lonesome road, you must walk it <strong>alone</strong>."


    The voice stopped speaking, and we were left in silence for a few seconds. There was onest burst of static, and ED-E dropped out of the sky like a stone without any further ceremony. He smacked into the deuce''s hood with a resounding ng, and fell out of sight behind the truck.


    "ED-E!" I yelled, running to him, wide eyed. When I rounded the truck, I saw ED-E lying on the ground,pletely sideways and wobbling slightly. I dropped to my knees, skidding across the concrete, and grabbed hold of his chassis. He waspletely still, and even all the antennae sticking out of him were hanging down, limp and lifeless.


    "Wait - what th'' fuck just happened?" Cass asked feverishly from somewhere behind me. "Who was that speaking just - holy shit!" Roxie was making her way around the other side of the truck, and started sniffing and pawing at the eyebot in my hands. "Is... is ED-E... he okay?"


    "I don''t know," I admitted, lifting the robot off the ground. He shuddered, and the familiar sound of his anti-grav generators hummed into life; he righted himself, and wobbled slightly as he returned to the air. "ED-E! Are you alright?" I asked. At first, he didn''t say anything. He hovered in ce for a few seconds... and then, a grainy, almost iplete sounding version of the bugle music he usually yed inbat. And then:


    "RALPHIE!" A voice yelled from his speaker grill. It was distorted by the static somewhat, but it was still recognizable as the voice of a child. "Fly far, fly fast!" The music faded away, and there were a few more bursts of static, until all that was left was the hum of his anti-grav generators keeping him aloft.


    "... ED-E? What... what was..." He shook back and forth several times in midair, in exactly the same way that someone who''d just been blindsided by a sucker punch to the face would shake their head to clear their vision. "You back with us?"


    "I..." ED-E wobbled in ce, still obviously shaken. "I am sorry, Friend_Courier. I do not... Yes. Yes, I am fine. I have had message protocols overwritten in the past, but this was..." ED-E paused, shaking back and forth again. "I do not fully understand what just happened."


    "What the fuck was that?" Cass asked. "Who was that kid just now?"


    "Are you sure you''re okay? Do you want April or Emily to take a look at you?" I asked again, reaching up to try and touch his chassis in an attempt tofort him. He didn''t let me. He just floated backward, away from me.


    "No. That is not necessary Friend_Courier. I am fine." Roxie looked up at the floating metal ball with a whimper; I didn''t know if the cyberdog could understand what ED-E was saying, but if Cass'' expression was anything to go on, you didn''t need to hear the words for the message to get across. Mostly. Without another word, ED-E zoomed out of the parking garage, and I was left standing there in stunned silence.


    "The fuck is going on?" Cass could always be counted on to break any silence. And then I realized, she wasn''t the only thing making noise.


    Beep-beep. Beep-beep.


    A familiar sound echoed off my arm. I looked down at my Pip Boy: an alert. Thest time this kind of thing happened was when I got the Sierra Madre radio signal...


    Fuck.


    Cautiously, I lifted theputer on my arm, and opened the alert. The screen went ck for just a second, and then lines of code began to scroll faster than I could read. The map function was activated, and the image focused on a very particr point - a small canyon almost directly northwest of Primm. A marker appeared, and then words scrolled on the screen directly below it:


    N35 39'' 54"


    W115 28'' 37"


    YOU KNOW THE WAY, COURIER.


    ULYSSES


    "Ulysses..." I said aloud, sounding out the word on my tongue. I didn''t like it.


    And everything had been going so well...


    "This is definitely a trap," Cass said as the two of us stepped out of the elevator.


    "Yup." I nodded, agreeingpletely.


    "But you''re still going to follow the coordinates?" Cass asked,pletely bewildered.


    "Yup." I said in exactly the same way,plete with another nod.


    "Are you forgetting the part where <em>it''s a </em><em><strong>trap</strong></em>?!" Cass pleaded, grabbing my shoulder to turn me around. Her face was the very picture of pure frustration. I just shook my head, shrugged off her grip, and kept walking to my room.


    "Nope," I said simply, heading straight for all my gear.


    "AAUGH!" She said through gritted teeth. Even though I wasn''t looking at her, I could just tell she was shaking her fists above her head in frustration. "Okay, <strong>fuck it</strong>. Guys, I need some help. Could you exin to this <strong>idiot</strong> that walking into a trap that you <em>already know is a </em><em><strong>trap</strong></em>is a bad idea?"


    "Wait, hang on," I heard Arcade say from the hall. "Trap? What''re we talking about?"


    "Somebody just took control of ED-E and sent a cryptic, very threatening message inviting our resident moron here into an obvious trap, and he''s insisting on going!" Cass practically yelled. By now, they''d all followed me into my room, but I kept putting on the pieces of armor.


    "So?" Veronica asked, taking a sip of the coffee in her hands. "We walk into traps all the time. What''s the big deal?"


    "Shit-for-brains over there is insisting on going in <strong>by himself</strong>. Without any of us toe in to pull his sorry ass out of the fire." Cass red, practically shooting daggers my way. Veronica almost choked on her coffee.


    "What?!" Arcade took a step back. "Are you <em>nuts</em>? You know your track record with solo outings!" Such afort, to be presented with such unanimous support of my intelligence.


    "Only when I wasn''t invisible," I grumbled, thest piece of the Stealth Suit unfolding along my limbs and sliding into ce. The armor on my chest beeped softly. "Look, I know you''re concerned, but this... it''s <em>The Divide</em>. Have any of you ever been there?" I asked, looking around the room.


    "Have <em>you</em>?" Cass shot back. I nodded.


    "Yes. <strong>Once</strong>." Her expression faltered. I didn''t think she was expecting that, so I kept going. "It was an ident. I never meant to... I was trying to get to Pahrump for a delivery, but I must have gotten lost, or turned around somewhere along the way. Ended up in The Divide by mistake. Barely made it out that hell alive."


    "Exactly!" Cass eximed. "So we shoulde wi-"


    "No," a voice growled from the door. All eyes turned to see who cut her off. Boone was standing illuminated by the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest, looking at us. "He''s right. All of us in The Divide would be too dangerous."


    "And how do <em>you</em> know?" Veronica asked, finally setting her coffee down. I think she was getting a little tired of being startled and spilling it all over her robe.


    "Before I left the NCR, Manny and I were part of a 1st Recon unit tasked to apany a 4th Battalion Ranger team sent into The Divide. We were the sniper support. The mission was to find an alternate supply line into the Mojave." Boone shook his head. "It was FUBAR from the get-go. Everything went wrong. Sandstorms. Radiation. Ghouls. Deathws. Everything happened all at once. Manny and I were the only ones to make it out alive. And that was <strong>luck </strong>more than anything else."


    "More people make more noise than less," I said, nodding at Boone. He nodded back. "That''s why I''m thinking what he said at the end of the transmission - you must walk it alone - I''m not sure that was a <em>threat.</em> I think it was supposed to be <em>advice.</em> One person can move quicker and quieter than half a dozen."


    "Only when that person isn''t <em>you</em>, maybe," Arcade said. "We''ve seen you work. You''re as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. You don''t know the meaning of the word subtle."


    I red at Arcade, and screwed up my face. I didn''t say anything, though, because I decided I would just show them. I reached down to my belt, and pressed the button in the center of the hexagonal buckle with a click. A hum filled my ears, and that familiar shimmering miasma surrounded me until I was semi-transparent. I was about to open my mouth, but Sue beat me to it.


    "Don''t worry!" The personality in the Stealth Suit said in a voice both loud enough to hear and yet still somehow a whisper. "I''m good at keeping Sheason hidden! They''ll be looking for us, but we won''t let them find us."


    "Did - did that... who... <em>what</em>?" Veronica stammered.


    "Well, that''s certainly different." Arcade said. "Although, with all the other talking things from the Big Empty, I really shouldn''t be surprised." Despite that, he still <em>looked</em> confused. Cass shook her head. Out of everyone, Boone seemed the least affected. But that was probably because he''s... well, <em>Boone</em>.


    "I can be sneaky when I have to be," I said, clicking the button and returning to my normal level of opacity. I turned to the desk to my left. "Which means, Sasha, I''m sorry. But you''re going to have to stay here, too."


    ",   !" Sasha yelled from his spot on the desk. The brain barked angrily. "I am <strong>bored</strong>, just sitting here! Where are cowards in need of killing?!"


    "I''m sure somebody here can oblige," I said smiling at everyone for the first time since leaving the elevator. Even though they''d all had a chance to talk with Sasha, the sudden outburst did seem to startle them. "Hell, if there are any Legion sniffing around, I''m sure you can make them even more crimson."


    "Back to the bigger point," Cass reverted to type, ignoring the minigun. "Why do you even have to go <em>at all</em>? What''s so important about this guy? Who <em>is</em> he?" I looked around at everyone gathered here; they all had the same question on their lips, even if Cass was the only one to say it out loud. I reached down, and pulled out the tinum Chip.


    "Everything that''s happened in thest few weeks... meeting all of you, House, Yes Man,ying the groundwork for Vegas'' independence, going to the Madre and the Big Empty... none of it would have happened if I hadn''t been hired by the Mojave Express to carry <em>this</em> to Vegas." I grabbed the chip and held it up between my finger and thumb. "We all agree on that?"


    "Well, yeah, but-" Cass began.


    "I wasn''t the first person they hired..." I said, rolling the chip along the top of my fingers as I spoke. "<strong>He</strong> was. He turned down the job when he saw my name down the list. He knew this chip was bad news." I flipped the chip with my thumb and grabbed it in midair. "He says he has a message for me? Well, I have some questions for him. I want some answers. And I''m going to <strong>find</strong> them."


    With the exception of Cass, that seemed to cate them... somewhat. But, to be truly honest... I was plenty worried myself.


    This guy had been the one to tell Elijah about the Sierra Madre. The only way he could know where to find it was if he''d been there... and survived that hell to talk about it. He had made camp in the Big Empty, and survived an encounter with The Think Tank, not to mention all the other various pieces of crazy in that bowl of dangerous insanity. And now, he''s just... <em>waiting</em> for me in The Divide, a ce both Boone and I agree is lethal in every possible sense of the word. Who in their right mind would just... <em>wait</em> in a ce like that? And how <em>terrifying</em> would a person have to be simply to survive in that irradiated hell?


    Not to mention, there was one other thing worrying me. He said something about what <em>I </em>did. What did he mean by that? What did I do? What was he talking about? Was there something I had done in The Divide? The only thing I remember doing there was being scared out of my wits and almost dying.


    Too many questions, and no answers.


    "Actually, speaking of answers," I said, shaking away all the thoughts rattling around in my head. "Arcade? Veronica? Maybe you guys can help me, you guys are my go-to resource for all things obscure." The two of them just looked at each other curiously, and then looked back at me.


    "We are?" They both said in unison. I did the best I could to suppress a smirk.


    "Yes. The transmission that came through my Pip Boy," I held up my arm "and gave me the coordinates ended with a word that I can''t make any sense of: Ulysses. Does that mean anything to either of you?" Arcade was the first to speak.


    "Ulysses?" He snorted out a smallugh. "Man... thest time I heard that name was when I studied the <em>Aeneid</em>, years ago, back at the Boneyard University."


    "The... what?" I asked, unsure what he''d even <em>said</em>. Except for one thing: name. It was a name? Ulysses was a name? What kind of a name is that?


    "The <em>Aeneid</em>. It was an epic poem, written in ancient Rome - the real one - by Virgil. 9,896 lines of dactylic hexameter... It''s kind of a shame, really. I bet that with the rise of Caesar and the Legion, they don''t even teach it anymore." Arcade chuckled grimly to himself and shook his head. "In omnibus requiem quaesivi, et nusquam inveni nisi in angulo cum libro."


    "So... who was this Ulysses person?" I asked again, hoping to get a clearer answer this time. Preferably, one in English.


    "Ulysses is the Latin name of Odysseus, a Greek hero of myth. He was the focus of Homer''s <em>Odyssey</em>. Spent the better part of ten years after the Trojan War wandering the Mediterranean, trying and failing to find his way home." Part of me was utterly confused, and yet... there was another part of my brain that seemed to recall pieces of this from somewhere. Was this one of the many things my brain had read to upy itself while waiting for me to arrive in the Forbidden Zone? I couldn''t be entirely certain. Trying to remember what my brain had read was like trying to read an open book lying at the bottom of a river.


    "Pfft. Typical man," Veronica shook her head. "Never bothering to ask for directions." Veronica unfolded her arms and shrugged. "I don''t know anything about any of <em>that</em>. But the only ''Ulysses'' I know was the one mentioned in one of Taggart''s US History lectures: Ulysses S. Grant. President number 18, and-"


    "One of the great, all-time American drunks!" Arcade interrupted with a smile. Veronica just shot him a look.


    "I was going to say ''Commanding Union General during the Civil War,'' but yeah. I suppose that works, too."


    "Wasn''t he called ''The Butcher'' after the Ovend campaign?" Arcade asked. Veronica scratched at the back of her hood.


    "I thought that was Sherman after he set fire to all of Georgia," Veronica said finally. "Wouldn''t surprise me, either way. What <em>is</em> surprising is that I even know this much. I''m pretty sure I slept through most of that ss..."


    "I can''t believe they doubted me when I said those two collectively know everything," I said under my breath, leaning over to Cass. She was staring at the two of them going back and forth.


    "I can''t believe the two of them''r still talkin''."


    Half an hourter, I was back down in the garage, near my Corvega rather than the deuce. I wasn''t carrying as many weapons as I was usually known for, but I had a few. And I must say - even without sleeves, it was impressive the sheer number of energy pistols and ammo my duster was able to carry without being cumbersome.


    "So, yer seriously gonna do this, then?" Cass said from behind me the instant before I reached the car. I sighed, setting the Riot Gear helmet on top of my car, and turned to face her.


    "Yeah," I nodded. Cass came to a stop a few inches away from me, her brow furrowed in anger as she stared up at me. Her hands were both clenched into fists at her sides.


    "An'' there''s nothin'' I can say to convince you that yer bein'' ridiculous and stupid and you should just ignore this whole thing?" She was doing a decent job masking it with annoyance, but I could practically feel her worry like it was a physical presence as she stared up at me with those big grey eyes of hers.


    "I''m just going to get some answers, Cass." I rested a hand on her shoulder, and her expression faltered; she even bit her lower lip slightly. "I''ll be fine." She reached up and grabbed my hand.


    "Just... I know it''s impossible for you because it''s <em>you</em>, but just promise me..." She looked away, shook her head, and looked back with renewed frustration. "Don''t be an idiot!"


    "Please, don''t worry," Sue spoke up, startling Cass momentarily. "I can keep him safe and out of trouble."


    "Fuck me, I keep forgettin'' that thing can talk..." Cass muttered, rubbing the back of her neck and shaking her head.


    "I won''t be stupid, I promise," I said. "I''ll get my answers, and I''lle back in one piece. But, you know..." I shed her a smile and gave her a wink. "If it would make you feel any better, you could always give me a kiss for luck."


    Okay, yeah, that was definitely a look of annoyance now. She was still smiling, so that was probably a good sign. Cass reached around me and grabbed the helmet off the top of my car. She cradled it in her hands, and nted a kiss on the helmet''s respirator before tossing it past me and into my car''s open window.


    "You just be careful," She said finally, prodding me in the chest several times. "I swear, if you die out there, I''ll <strong>kill</strong> you."


    "Duly noted," I gave her a small nod as she turned on her heel and stormed off. Of course, me being the lecherous hump that I am, I couldn''t help but stare. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, and back into the elevator, I turned back, fully intending to get back into my car. But I suddenly found myself face-to-speaker with ED-E, who had somehow appeared without a sound. Or maybe I was simply distracted by staring at Cass'' backside, and hadn''t heard him.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E buzzed in my face. "You are going after the man who transmitted the message?"


    "Yeah... the Other Courier..." Ulysses. Was that even his name? At least I knew it <em>was</em> a name, now... "He''s somewhere in The Divide. I''m-"


    "Good." ED-E cut me off. "I aming with you." I was a bit startled, but I rallied as quick as I could.


    "No, not this time, little buddy. This is personal. You don''t have to-"


    "He has made it personal to <strong>me </strong>as well, Friend_Courier." ED-E cut me off again. "I wish to go with you, and register my displeasure in person."


    "ED-E, no! It''s too dangerous!" I pleaded. "Leaving aside the fact that The Divide is, with the possible exception of the Sierra Madre, the most lethal ce I''ve ever been... just... what if he takes control of you again?" ED-E wobbled in the air slightly, the steady hum from the anti-grav generators interrupted by a subtle waver.


    "It does not matter. I have reason to speak with him, just as you do. And Cassidy_Rose is correct. You operate at peak efficiency when you have at least onepanion to provide adequate fire support."


    "The Divide is still plenty dangerous, ED-E," I said. "Even for floating eyebots, I''m sure." In response, there was a belch of ozone and a crackle of electricity as ED-E vanished behind his stealth field.


    "He can turn invisible, just like us!" Sue eximed without even bothering to contain her excitement. "We can be stealthy buddies!"


    "I can move faster than you, Friend_Courier," ED-E said as he deactivated the stealth field. "I can be more stealthy. I can provide aerial reconnaissance, and dedicated fire support. And more important than any of that: you can not stop me." As if to demonstrate his point, he immediately hovered backward, far out of reach. "I aming with you, Friend_Courier."


    I sighed, shaking my head.


    "I''m just... I''m worried. I''m worried that too many people - or eyebots - will just..." I sighed again. "Guess there''s nothing I can do to dissuade you?" I asked, fully aware of the irony. ED-E shook his chassis back and forth.


    "I aming with you, Friend_Courier. That is final." I smiled, getting into my car. ED-E floated alongside as I started up the engine and drove out of the garage.


    "Well, if nothing else," I said as I drove along, leaning my head out the window. "This just shows what great ''Camarader-E'' the two of us have." ED-E let out a mechanical groan... apanied by the recording of a very soft, sad sounding trombone.


    "That was terrible, Friend_Courier," ED-E grumbled. I justughed.


    "I know. And I''m sorry." As I drove along, I caught sight of the Lucky 38 in one of my wing mirrors just as I drove out of The Strip''s front gate. I shook my head. "So much for thezy Sunday..."

 Chapter 121: The Silo

    Chapter 121: The Silo


    "Well..." I said, stepping out of my Corvega and staring at the collection of scrap before me. "I guess this must be the ce."


    "The location does indeed match the coordinates, Friend_Courier."


    I was standing at what should have been the entrance to a narrow canyon. I say ''should'' because the only level part leading deeper into the mountain range ahead of me waspletely blocked off by arge wall of twisted metal, rusty cars and wreckage. Like ED-E said, this ce matched the coordinates, all right. But I had <em>other </em>reasons for thinking that this was the ce: graffiti. Most of it was just words and phrases, scrawled in various different colors of spray paint (but mostly red).


    Lonesome Road


    YOU CAN GO HOME, COURIER


    the Divide


    All of those and more were scrawled on the various bits of wreckage. But thergest was a question written along the side of the charred hulk of a bus, painted in yellow and ck, and underlined several times for good measure:


    COURIER SIX?


    "The decorations adorning refid:CanyonWreckage seem slightly unnecessary," ED-E buzzed around as I approached the bus. He kept talking, spouting off something that I didn''t quite hear. I wasn''t really paying attention because I suddenly became aware of onest piece of graffiti: scrawled in white on the door of the bus was the same g symbol I''d seen in the Big Empty.


    White... the red symbols meant danger. I''d worked that much out. But blue and white... I didn''t know. Not for certain. That is, if it actually meant anything at all... I reached out cautiously, to push open the door.


    There was a hiss of released gas, a shudder and grind of metal against metal, and the bus door opened, disturbing arge cloud of sand and grit as it moved.


    "That was needlessly over dramatic, Friend_Courier," ED-E said directly behind me; I practically jumped out of my skin. I hadn''t realized he''d floated down yet.


    "Hey, don''t me me," I said, shaking it off and heading back to my car. "I didn''t set all this up..." I popped open the trunk, and started collecting my weapons. <em>Bring all you can carry. </em>The words echoed in my head. I wasn''t going to bring <em>everything</em>. I wouldn''t be able to <strong>move</strong> if I did that, and move was the one thing I was sure I <strong>definitely</strong> needed to be able to do.


    I had most of my pistols on me, if nothing else. Roscoe, That Gun, the Ranger Sequoia, the Pulse Gun on a holster sewn into the inside of the duster, the Sonic Emitter on the other side. The sawed off shotgun was on my hip, and I had at least five knives along with my brass knuckles. How effective the brass knuckles would be was marginal, considering I had an arm that could punch through steel doors, but hey.


    I <strong>definitely</strong> wasn''t going to bring the MP5, though, because... I don''t think I''d ever be able to use that particr gun again. Maybe it was just my mind ying tricks on me, but it still <em>smelled</em> like that... that night. I did, however, have my G36 slung across my back, along with several magazines worth of armor piercing ammo.


    As I debated with myself about whether or not I should bring some grenades, a faint glimmer caught my eye. I reached into the trunk, and held out the pistol so I could see it in the sunlight: the alien ster. Even now - even after everything else that''s happened since - I was still having a hard time actually believing that what Cass and I had seen that afternoon was really real. If it wasn''t for this pistol (because, of <em>course</em> I kept it), then I might just have written it off as a hallucination. A figment of my imagination, brought on by spending too long in the desert heat.


    Should I bring this with me, too? It felt... odd in my hands. Way too light for something that size and shape. Not to mention, I didn''t really know exactly what it did - would it disintegrate people, or turn them into goo? Or maybe something even stranger. I mean, it <em>was </em>alien, after all. Plus, I had no idea how much ammo I had. There was only the one... energy cell? I mean, it wasn''t like the battery packs for normal energy weapons. It just had a small, glowing tube that fit into the side of the gun. Really, I was just <em>assuming</em> that''s what fed it ammo.


    After a few minutes, I shook my head and put it back in the trunk. Not today. Today isn''t a day for gambling. I need reliability. Something that I <em>know</em> will work. Because once I get into the Divide... all bets are off.


    "Are you ready to proceed, Friend_Courier?" ED-E asked. I nodded, mming the trunk shut. I grabbed the Riot Gear helmet from the inside of my car and buckled it in ce. I''d definitely need the air filter and the goggles.


    "Yeah, let''s..." I didn''t finish, because at that moment I got a very unwee sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I looked around behind me, my hand reaching for Roscoe out of habit. I couldn''t see anything except desert. There was a thin strip of tarmac - the Long 15 - and to my left was the faint smudge of Primm, far, far in the distance, almost like a mirage. But other than that...


    "Friend_Courier?" ED-E buzzed along next to me. "Are you all right?"


    "Yeah..." I finally managed to grunt out, trying to shake my head clear. "Yeah, it''s... it''s nothing." But my head didn''t clear. I made my way back to the door that led into The Divide, and I couldn''t shake the feeling that I was being watched.


    <em>She</em> was out there. I couldn''t know. Not for certain. But I had that feeling. Maybe I was just being overly paranoid...


    "C''mon, let''s go, pal," I muttered, more to myself than ED-E. The eyebot nodded in ce, and sped off above the pile of wreckage.


    "I do not believe I will be able to fit in the wreckage tunnel. I shall take to the skies, and see you on the other side." I nodded, and walked into the bus - and, as I did, the door shut behind me. I halted in my tracks, my braintching onto something unusual ED-E had said:


    "Wait, tunnel?"


    He wasn''t kidding. When I first saw the pile of wreckage, I just thought it was a simple wall. But no - there was a whole hell of a lot more than just one bus. I must have been walking through a twisting, turning corridor of rusty steel and corrugated metal for... fuck, I don''t even <em>know </em>how long. After what felt like six years, I finally got the faintest hint that I was getting close to the other side.


    Had he <em>built</em> all this? How the hell had he found this much scrap, and why the fuck did he even take the time and effort to make it? And was this the <em>only </em>way into The Divide... or just the way <em>he </em>wanted me to take?


    When I finally made it to the end, there wasn''t an automatic door like at the entrance. Just a thin sheet of metal, propped up against the exit. Orange light filtered in through the cracks, and it rattled against the wind. I gave it a single shove, and it fell without ceremony. I stepped out into the open air, and even protected as I was from head to toe in armor, I could feel the howling wind, not to mention all the sand, grit, and dirt carried by the wind, pelting me all over. ED-E was already waiting for me at the edge of a cliff ahead of me, and I walked over to him, getting my first look at The Divide... from this direction, at least.


    Before me was a sinkhole several miles across, surrounded by mountains and sheer cliff faces, and filled with churning, swirling sandstorms. The storms were so thick, it almost looked like brown soup,pping against the side of the mountain-bowl, unable to escape except in the smallest sshes of sand. The vast amount of sand swirling around even had a noticeable effect on the sky; everything was bathed in a harsh orange light. It was like the sun trying to filter through smoke clouds during a wildfire.


    Inside the basin was a giant fissure in the earth - a vast, yawning chasm, as if thend itself had been rent asunder by the axe of an angry, ancient god. The skeletal frames of skyscrapers and broken, ruined highways jutted out at odd angles all along the fissure. It was like looking at someone whose chest had exploded from the inside, sending pieces of their ribcage flying in every direction. Several antenna towers were also sticking up out of the ground, all along the fissure; their red lights cut through the sandstorms all around them, slowly pulsing in time with one another like a heartbeat.


    I stepped to the edge of the cliff, and held onto the side of a nearby pipe to keep myself from falling in; the pipe was sheared in half, and definitely didn''t belong. It almost looked like the winds had <em>thrown</em> it up here, along with the rest of the wreckage. I just... <em>stood</em> there for a few seconds. The devastation was... it was so absolute. I''d never seen anything quite like it, and definitely not from this high a vantage point.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E buzzed from somewhere off to my right. "I believe I may have found a way." Carefully, I stepped away from the cliff''s edge, and followed the robot. He was flying near the edge of the cliff, and (though it took some rather careful footwork) I managed to find what he was talking about: the entrance to a concrete bunker. The entrance itself seemed to be... slightly askew. Like the mountain itself wasn''t at quite the right angle.


    I took onest look around as I approached the entrance to the bunker, and one thing did catch my eye: a ruined billboard, hanging by a thread off the side of the cliff. Most of it was ckened and charred, but I was able to make out a few words:


    "Building the American Dream..." I said aloud, tilting my head to try and get a better view. "...on solid ground." I let out a single grimugh. I should probably expect to see a lot of bitter irony like that, here. I turned back to the bunker entrance and approached the door. Like the bus, I saw one of his g symbols painted on the door. Must be the right way.


    The wide metal door to the bunker slid down into the ground, revealing a metal tform - a freight elevator of some kind. When the door opened, the small light above it flickered slightly. I was about to step inside, when I noticed that ED-E was floating over the edge of the cliff, gazing out at the brokenndscape below us.


    "ED-E?" I asked, holding the door open. "You alright?" He didn''t say anything at first. He just kept staring... as much as a robot without eyes can stare, anyway.


    "This ce..." ED-E started, his steady hovering buffeted by the winds around us slightly. "Friend_Courier. Do you know what it is that happened here?"


    "No," I said honestly. "I mean, I can <em>guess</em>. You ask me, I''d say that <em>the world</em> happened to this ce. It''ll get us all in the end, and I doubt many of us will end up half as pretty as <em>this </em>ce..." I shook my head, looking away from the scene of devastation sprawled out below me. "But I don''t... I don''t know for sure what happened. Why?" ED-E backed up, until he finally came to a stop a few feet away from me, and spun in ce. For a few seconds, he didn''t say anything - and then, he shook back and forth several times.


    "I am sorry, Friend_Courier. There is... something familiar. I do not understand..." I reached out, and patted him on the chassis, motioning with my head into the elevator. "Yes. You are right, Friend_Courier. We should continue moving forward." He flew into the door, and I followed right behind him.


    YOU CAN GO HOME, COURIER


    That message was sprayed along the wall again. After a rather perilous trip on the freight elevator thatsted entirely too long, it dumped us into a tunnel that was tilted at a very rming angle. This was an actual tunnel, too - built out of concrete. And that just made the angle all that more rming.


    "I suggest we vacate immediately, Friend_Courier," ED-E said, dodging a sparking wire hanging out of the ceiling that came to life just as he flew past. "I could be mistaken, but I do not believe this structure is entirely stable."


    I was about to say something snarky, but Sue - surprisingly enough - beat me to it.


    "You''re the one who suggested wee down here in the first ce!" She squealed. "And now you''ve got cold feet because of a little sparkly wire?"


    "I do not possess any feet at all, Stealth_Sue," ED-E replied.


    "You know what she means, pal," I said, opening the bulkhead at the end of the tunnel. "If you think it''s so dangerous, why''d you suggest we go this way?"


    "Because you do not possess any means of scaling sheer surfaces, Friend_Courier," ED-E said, orbiting around my head as we walked into the next room. "My anti-gravity repulsor coils allow me to circumvent difficult terrain, but your humanoid bipedal lotion severely limits your options. If I may make a suggestion, it might be pertinent to invest in a grappling hook and some sturdy climbing rope."


    "Why not just go the whole nine yards, and try and convince me to get some hover-shoes, or maybe a jetpack?" I asked with a chuckle. Of course, now that I was thinking about it... a jetpack <em>would</em> be pretty awesome. It would be like living in the future!


    "Jetpacks are highly dangerous and needlessly impractical, Friend_Courier," ED-E responded, poking a rather sharp needle into my hopes and dreams. I shook my head and tried my best to move on.


    "Alright, where the fuck are we?" I asked, looking around. The room the tunnel had dumped us into was ratherrge, mostly square, and very dark. Only one light in the ceiling was still intact, and it waspletely dead. At the far end of the room was a giant armored bulkhead, but because it was behind arge pane of (surprisingly unmarred) ss... it didn''t look like it was the sort you were supposed to walk through. In front of the ss was arge console.


    What really caught my eye was the emblem on the floor: a circr seal, and mostly faded and worn. In the center was a shield that looked a little like the bottom of a clothes iron, decorated with the colors of the stars and stripes. In front of the shield was a sword, and a blue circle on top of that. It had 13 white stars ringing the edge, and arge star in the center; on either side of the sword was a gold string of leaves.


    "Ballistic Defense Division..." I said aloud, reading the words once I switched my eyes to nightvision. A lot of the letters were worn away, but it was still pretty legible. Mostly. "Commonwealth Defense Administration." I looked closer, and realized that under the shield was a ribbon, and more writing: "Exitus Acta... Probat? The fuck does that mean? Is that..." Sue answered my question before I could finish my thought.


    "It''s Latin," She said simply. "The phase first entered the American lexicon with George Washington - that was the slogan on his family coat of arms. The simplest trantion would probably be ''The oue justifies the deed''."


    "How... how do you know that?" I asked, switching my eyes back to normal.


    "All Big Mountain synthetic personalities are equipped with a standardnguage package, which contains a trantion matrix for 50 of the mostmon spokennguages in 2065, as well as 10 deadnguages," Sue exined happily. "Latin is one of them. I can also trante ancient Greek and Sanskrit!"


    "Well, shit," I chuckled. "Maybe next time Sasha starts barking at me in Russian, you can exin what he''s talking about."


    "," Sue said with a girlish giggle.


    "Hey, ED-E, do you-" I looked up, and realized that the eyebot was hovering directly over the console in front of me,pletely still as a statue. "ED-E?" I was getting a bit concerned. This was the second time in fifteen minutes that he''d been transfixed by something here.


    "I... this is... familiar..." ED-E said, without turning to look at me. Suddenly, there was a very familiar beeping sound that came from his chassis... and then a voice peppered with static echoed out of ED-E''s speaker grill.


    "Experiment log 369248/B - Eyebot Duraframe universal interface override system. This is Dr. Whitley presiding. We''ve boosted signal gain and erged the overflow buffer system. That should ensure 100% connectivity and control. ED-E, whenever you''re ready."


    There was a strange electric sound on the recording - and then there was a burst of lightning that shot out of the dish on top of ED-E''s chassis, and sted a small dish-shaped receiver on the console. The recording kept going, but everything in the room... everything started to <em>shake</em>. There was a buzz, and the one functioning light in the room flickered to life. A few rotating yellow lights around the bulkhead lit up and started spinning,plete with a xon over the speakers.


    "Yes! Sess! Uh..." Whitley coughed, trying topose himself. "Reporting full sess on 369248/B. ED-E was able to interface with and override the test panel in under three seconds. Great job, team! Now, let''s start on the proposal for the full rollout." ED-E floated away from the console, wobbling and vibrating in midair slightly, and I rushed over to him to see if he was alright. Behind me, the bulkhead finally started to grind open.


    "ED-E? You alright, buddy?" I rested a hand on his chassis, and he immediately stopped vibrating.


    "Yes... I- I think so..." ED-E gave onest shake. "Yes, thank you, Friend_Courier. I am..." He trailed off, his speaker grill pointed behind me at the bulkhead. Was he <em>looking </em>at something?


    "What are yo-" I turned around, and instantly, my eyes went as wide as pie tes and my blood turned to ice. It was unmistakable where we were, now that I could see what was just beyond the ss:


    That was a nuke.


    It was unquestionably an intercontinental ballistic missile of some sort. The same sort of weapon that <em>ended the world</em>. The words "UNITED STATES" were printed vertically on the side, alongside a picture of an American g. We were inside a <em>missile silo</em>, mere feet away from one of the most destructive objects ever built in history. And that just made the tilt of this entire structure <em>even more rming</em>.


    Right, that''s not an emergency, it''s just... time to... empty your bowels. <strong>Fuck</strong>.


    "What... what is <em>that</em>?" Sue asked softly. ED-E floated up to the ss, and started speaking.


    "That is a Titan-II LGM-25C ICBM, fitted with a W-53 nuclear warhead in a Mark 6 re-entry vehicle. Effective range: 15,000 kilometers. Yield: 9 megatons." As he rattled off the statistics, I followed him, and noticed something else strange: there were <em>eyebots</em> floating around the inside of the silo, orbiting the missile.


    "ED-E, I''m sorry for questioning you," I said, unable to pull my gaze away from the missile. "Let''s get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible."


    If ED-E was right, the only way out was <em>through</em> the silo itself. So, I steeled myself, clenched my ass as tight as I could manage, and followed him as he led me through the twisting maze of treacherous hallways surrounding the missile. I had to do something to get my mind off the instrument of death leaning perilously against the silo walls next to me.


    "So, ED-E... that was the voice of your creator on that recording from earlier, right? Whitley?"


    "Yes. Doctor Whitley Stiggs," ED-E hovered over a set of mostly copsed stairs. I grumbled under my breath, trying my best to monkey my way up a pile of rubble and follow him.


    "Do you know what happened to him?" I asked (in between grunts). I looked up when I finally set foot on the intact part of the stairs, and saw that he was staring at the missile. Okay, yeah, this is starting to get seriously worrying now. There was another beep, and yet another burst of static. Another recording began ying:


    "Dr. Grant?" Whitley''s voice was faint, but got a bit louder, apanied by the sounds of footsteps. "What the hell do you think you''re doing?"


    "Ah, Whitley," said another voice. This was a female voice, and I could just... you know how sometimes you can tell someone is an asshole immediately? This voice gave me that feeling. "There you are. Orders from Colonel Autumn. He feels the Eyebot Duraframe project isn''t advancing quickly enough. I''m to-" There was a muffled sound, almost like some kind of scuffle.


    "You didn''t even disengage his damage-avoidance protocols!" Whitley yelled frantically. "You''re hurting him!"


    "Don''t be ridiculous," the bitch spoke up again. "It''s just a machine. Robots can''t feel pain. See here? I''ve already increased the navigation system''s efficiency by 65%" There was a sound of some kind of metal banging against something, followed swiftly by Whitley bellowing at the top of his lungs:


    "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"


    "Fine," the bitch said with augh, her voice getting fainter. "It''s yourb... at least until I tell the Colonel about this." ED-E beeped, and the static of the recording faded away.


    "Another recording, huh?" I asked, resting a hand on his chassis. "Sounds like this Whitley guy really cared about you..." ED-E bobbed in the air into my hand.


    "Yes..." ED-E said. "He... he was always trying to keep me safe from the evil clutches of General Winters."


    "Wait, who?" I asked, a bit surprised. "Who''s General Winters? I thought that recording talked about a Colonel Autumn."


    "I... I am not sure. There are filesing online within my databanks marked with tag:RALPHIE that are... something is... I do not understand." Neither did I, if I was honest.


    "Wait, Ralphie?" I asked aloud. "I feel like I''ve heard that name before..." I racked my brain, trying to draw a connection. It definitely sounded familiar. But I couldn''t ce it.


    "Sheason?" Sue spoke up, surprising me. "There''s something I''ve just noticed that I think you should know."


    "Yeah?" I raised an eyebrow, looking down at my armored chest.


    "The eyebots in the silo here... they look like ED-E," Sue said; ED-E wobbled away from my hand, looking around. I looked around as well, and couldn''t see what was so important.


    "So?" I asked. "They''re eyebots, aren''t they? I mean, why wouldn''t they look -"


    "No, I mean, they look <em>exactly</em> like ED-E! Exactly!" Sue interrupted me. "Try and get a closer look at one, you''ll see what I mean." I looked down at my chest curiously, shrugged, and looked back up. As it happened, one of the eyebots buzzed around just above my head; I jumped up, grabbed it by one of the antenna, and brought it down to eye level.


    "wOAh!" the eyebot in my hands eximed. Its voice wasn''t quite like ED-E. It was heavily synthesized, and seemed to stress all the wrong sybles. I also couldn''t quite tell - did it sound like a boy or a girl? It was an androgynous sound, whatever it was. "whAt Is gOIng On?"


    "What the hell?" I asked, keeping a firm grip on the robot as I turned it around in my hands; the antenna wiggled uselessly. "You''re right... I mean, there''s even... There''s even a <em>license te</em> on the side." I was honestly a little bit baffled. I thought the license te on ED-E''s chassis was a homemade repair of some sort, but this spherical robot in my hands had an Illinois license te in <em>exactly </em>the same spot, and it looked <em>exactly </em>the same. It even said "2ED-E59," just like ED-E''s.


    "plEAsE pUt mE dOwn!" The eyebot in my hands said in a strange sort of sing-song, wiggling against my grip. "I''m AfrAId Of hEIghts!" I coughed nervously, letting the bot go.


    "Sorry, I just... sorry." I said with a nod. "There you go." The eyebot wobbled in ce, and floated back up, around the missile.


    "I dOn''t blAmE yOU..." it said. Both ED-E and I stared up at the other eyebot as it floated away.


    "I am terribly confused, Friend_Courier..." ED-E said.


    "You and me both, little buddy."


    "So, this is the only way forward, isn''t it?" I said, as quietly as I could manage.


    "Unfortunately, Friend_Courier, yes. It is." ED-E said, just as quietly. We were both huddled below arge window, just a few feet away from the top of the missile. On the other side of the window, however...


    Sentry bots. At least three of the robotic tanks with the vaguely humanoid torsos and the weapons at the end of each arm were patrolling the area beyond the ss. There were also severalser turrets mounted behind several sandbag barricades... and, just to hammer home that everything was lethal, and - more than that - everything was <em>active</em>, there were several <strong>bodies</strong> littering the area.


    "Alright, so what do you think?" I whispered, reaching into my duster. I pulled out both the pulse gun and the sonic emitter, holding up one in each hand. "Try and zap them into submission with EMP sts?"


    "We could try sneaking past them..." Sue offered. "All of us can turn invisible, you know."


    Silence.


    "ED-E?" I asked, looking around. He''d floated off somewhere, and it took me a minute to find him: he was next to a wall-mounted terminal, sting a small dish shaped receiver on a panel next to the terminal with a jolt of electricity.


    "<strong>HOSTILE TARGET DETECTED!</strong>" One of the sentry bots bellowed loud enough that I could hear it clearly, even behind the armored ss window. "<strong>TARGET LOCK STATUS: GREEN!</strong>"


    The next minute or so was incredibly entertaining to watch. The sentry bots and theser turrets turned on each other, and the air beyond the ss was filled withsers, rockets, tracer fire, explosions... Even when I stood up to get a better view, the robots and turrets didn''t seem to notice me. They were too busy shooting each other.


    "So," I said, opening the door and stepping into the chamber when the noise and violence finally died down. "Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what the fuck just happened?"


    "And can we do it again?" Sue asked, practically squealing with joy. "That was <em>awesome</em>!" ED-E bobbed along ahead of me, looking around at the wrecked pieces of robots and sentry turrets.


    "I hacked into the Silo securitywork, and switched the IFF tags for the patrolling sentry bots from ''Friend'' to ''Foe,'' Friend_Courier," ED-E said proudly. "I calcted a 98.7% chance that the firepower of both parties would cancel each other out, and clear the way for us to proceed safely." I whistled loudly, looking around at the carnage as he spoke.


    "I gotta hand it to you, little buddy," I said, kneeling down to get a look at one of the bodies lying against a nearby desk. "That''s some serious outside-the-box thinking right there. Great... work..."


    I trailed off as I inspected the body. He was lying face down, but there was something... odd. I pushed it over onto its back, and... oh <em>holy fuck</em>. Had this guy been... it looked like he''d been <em>skinned</em>. And I don''t mean like how a ghoul doesn''t have skin. With ghouls, their skin looks almost rotten - but this guy, the skin was justpletely <em>gone</em>. Like someone had taken a knife, and carved off the skin until nothing was left but dried, dark red muscle and tendons. Like skinning a bighorner, or another animal that you wanted to cook. The eyes were little more than shriveled spheres, staring up nkly out of the sunken eye sockets.


    The really crazy thing though... this guy had clearly been skinned... but whoever skinned him had put his <em>clothes </em>back on. Why would they...


    "What the fuck?" I said aloud, moving from body to body. It wasn''t just that one. Every single human body here had been skinned in exactly the same way, and whoever had done this had put the clothes back on each body after skinning them.


    That didn''t make sense. Of course, I didn''t have much time to dwell on it, because I heard a grinding, mechanical sound, and metal scraping against concrete.


    "<strong>ST-STATUS REPO-O-ORT: YELLOW.</strong>" A still functioning sentry bot said from somewhere behind a nearby corner. Immediately, I pulled out the pulse gun again. "<strong>PRI-I-IMARY SYSTEMS HAVE SUSTAINED SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE. REINFO-O-ORCEMENT RECOMMENDED.</strong>" When it finally came into view, it was a pitiable sight. There were several gashes in the chassis, leaking some kind of viscous, oil-like fluid and sparking badly. The back leg looked exploded, and was dragging along uselessly behind it. It was such a sad sight, that I actually almost had a bit of trouble bringing myself to shoot it.


    (No I didn''t.)


    There was an electric sh from the end of the pulse gun, and ED-E fired off a trio ofser sts from his spot in the air next to me. Lightning arced all along the outside of the chassis, and the robot convulsed violently. The red eye slits in the armored head shed brightly, and then exploded from the inside with a puff of smoke. That was thest straw, and it fell onto its back with a heavy crash of twisting metal.


    For a minute or two, nobody said anything while the dead sentry bot continued smoking away silently. I put the pulse gun away...


    And then ED-E yed his triumphant marching music. That just made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

 Chapter 122: Hopeville

    Chapter 122: Hopeville


    MARKED


    The words were painted above another skinned corpse; unlike the other bodies, this one was nailed to the wall with huge railroad spikes. I honestly couldn''t tell if the words were written in actual paint, or if it was dried blood. Neither would''ve surprised me.


    "Friend_Courier, we must move on," ED-E chimed in from behind me. "I believe this door will lead us outside."


    "Oh yeah?" I asked, dly turning away from the grisly sight. "What, did you use some kind of sonicser scan, or maybe some kind of multi-spectrum terrain analyzer?" ED-E hovered in front of me for a few seconds, as if staring at me in disbelief. If he had eyes, I''m sure he would''ve been rolling them.


    "No," ED-E floated away from me, and up to a spot above the bulkhead door. "I just looked at the sign." It was a small box, hanging by a thread above the door, yet still somehow illuminated with the word "EXIT."


    "Fair enough," I said with a chuckle. I pulled on the handle to activate the door''s hydraulics, and was caughtpletely unaware by the sudden st of wind that hit me in the face. It didn''t even wait for the door to be fully open, either - as soon as there was the tiniest of cracks, there was a massive rush of dirt, sand, and grit that sted me like it had been shot from a cannon. I have to be honest, I was exceptionally d for the helmet... otherwise, I wouldn''t have been able to see anything until the wind died down. Even so, I really had to struggle just to stay on my feet until I finally made my way outside.


    Far in the distance, the sandstorm was so thick that it was like a giant nket of brown draped over the sky. Closer to the silo''s exit - where I was standing - the winds were certainly blowing harder, but the sands were thin enough to see though. The exit was at the base of a cliff, surrounded by broken chain-link fences that separated it from the ruins of an old world army town. Ruined and broken brick buildings, only one or two stories high, were the major feature here. There were a few rusted army Quonset huts here and there, and dozens of cars, trucks, and military vehicles abandoned on what was left of the roads. Most of the vehicles had been practically worn down to the frames, almost being torn apart. And, as a final capstone to this pyramid of suck... my Pip Boy''s Geiger counter had started to click.


    "Alright," I muttered, leaning against the doorframe so I could brace myself against the wind which had, thankfully, started to die down. "Which way do you think from here, ED-E?" As I spoke, I pulled the G-36 off my back to check the ammo. I was getting that sinking feeling in my gut again... but this time, it wasn''t due to imminent violence. I looked up as I finished, and saw a pair of silvery orbs - more eyebots - flying up high over the ruins, and then I watched as they vanished into the sandstorm.


    Silence.


    I looked over at ED-E, realizing that he still hadn''t responded to my question. He''d stopped moving entirely... and a small light was blinking at the bottom of his speaker grill.


    "There''s your signal..." A deep voice growled out of ED-E speaker. Even though it didn''t sound like he was raising his voice to be heard, it was still loud enough to be clear over the still howling wind. "Faint... but there. Taking your chances,ing here. Just like bringing the lord of Vegas his tribute... Twenty-nine less coins than other traitors have carried, if history''s true." He let out a single grim chuckle. "You and that chip... <em>deserve</em> each other."


    "Ulysses..." I growled out, the grip on my rifle tightening out of reflex. He let out a strange sort of growl... not quite augh, not quite a sigh. Apparently, he could hear me. That was new. All the other times people had used ED-E tomunicate with me, I couldn''t talk back.


    "I am. Not my given name. Close enough," He paused. "Took it from history. Found it in a book. An Old World name. Ulysses lived... long time ago. Long before the Old World set fire to itself. He made his mark... <strong>without</strong> being myth. Had to fight during a time when his world was <em>two</em> gs. He fought to make them <strong>one</strong>." I stared at the speaker grill in disbelief, the gears in my head already turning, remembering my conversation with Arcade and Veronica from earlier.


    "Wait, you mean... you''re talking about the civil war general? The one from history, Ulysses S. Grant? Not the one from Roman myth?" Much as him using my friend as a flying radio annoyed me, I was unable to quiet my curiosity. He let out a small satisfied "Hmmm..." noise.


    "History. Yes. Ulysses walked a hard road. A general, like Csar or Oliver." As he spoke, I noticed something peculiar: he pronounced the name ''Ceasar'' in exactly the same way Legionaries pronounced it. ''Kai-zar,'' instead of ''See-ser.'' That was odd. "Brahmin-stubborn like them, too. Gave him strength on the battlefield. Led his side to victory, turned two gs into one. That''s when he lost. When the fighting was done, the sickness took hold." He went quiet again, and ED-E trembled, but did not move.


    "So you took the name... why?" I asked. "Because of the ''two gs'' reference? The war between the ''two gs'' of NCR and Legion?" Was <em>he</em> Legion? The way he pronounced the name was one thing, but... he didn''t <em>talk</em> like someone in Caesar''s Legion...


    "War..." he scoffed. "Call it that. Our part in it. Ulysses wasn''t made for the g he followed. Wasn''t made for <em>peace</em>. That''s the lesson. If you follow a symbol to the end... ask yourself what that means." He grunted out a cough. "More than that... ask what happens after the <strong>end</strong>."


    "I''m not interested in what happens after the end," I pointed at ED-E, in an attempt to point at Ulysses. Could he see me? I didn''t know. Too many questions... Let''s focus on something simple first. "What I want to know <strong>right now</strong> is how you''re speaking through ED-E." Ulysses waspletely silent for quite a while. I almost thought I''d gotten him to give me my friend back.


    But no.


    "You... you gave it a <em>name</em>." It was like he couldn''t understand what he''d just heard. "The robot with you... all of them are machines. Radios. Old World tech reshaped with new hands. Historians. Couriers, carrying messages. Seen them as I''ve walked the Divide, tending other machines..."


    "But... ED-E''s not from the Divide..." Is he? "The recording of Whitley I heard, he... he mentioned the east coast..." Ulysses justughed. It was a grim, unpleasant sort of thing. I didn''t like it.


    "That one..." he continued. "Sealed inside the Hopeville silo. Woke up when the tank cracked. It wandered. Explored. Sign America is waking up, too. Found its way to Primm... and breathed itsst. Until you gave it purpose again." I went stiff. That was an interesting piece of information. Was he lying about that? Before I got a chance to think any more about this worrying development, Ulysses growled again. "I wonder... what <em>is</em> it to you? Tool? ve? Weapon?"


    "<strong>Friend</strong>," I said forcefully. Ulysses seemed to be at a loss for words, yet again. I shifted the grip on my G-36, and continued. "You know, you went to a lot of trouble to lure me here. I think you should start by telling me who you are - not your name, but who you <em>are</em> - and what you want." ED-E wobbled in ce, but still didn''t move.


    "I''m a Courier..." Ulysses began. "Courier Six... <em>was </em>Courier Six. Like you... and <strong>not</strong> like you. In all the ways that matter. Spent too many years looking for you. Now? Letting <em>you</em>...e to <em>me</em>. Thought that Chip you carry would end you. But... no. You got lives in you. Hard to kill. Storms, bullets... sand and wind. Yet still you walk." He paused. "For now."


    "Yeah, I already figured out that much..." I said, trying to keep cool. "You were meant to carry the Chip instead of me."


    "Meant to..." he said, grunting out a ''hmph.'' "<strong>No</strong>. Never ''meant'' to. The Chip was always your burden. Weigh you down long enough to let Death catch up to you... but you survived. There was Death in that package, and while the Chip is important to Old World ghosts... no. No, you are more dangerous than that Chip ever could be. Maybe why you found each other. Little piece of the Old World, speaking to you. Waiting for you to wake up the Old World with it."


    "I don''t believe in fate," I said, scowling at him. It was useless even if he could see me, since I was wearing the helmet, but it made me feel better. "Fact is, you refused the job. Why? Because you knew Benny wasing after it? To set me up to die?" I asked.


    "We all have Death following us," he said softly. "Only question of how close." The way he was speaking about death and following and all that... it reminded me of <strong>Boone</strong>. It was an eerily familiar sensation that sent a shiver up my spine. "You dodged it - for a time. You''re good at that. Talent for it. With that Chip weighing you down... a burden. Lets Death move a little faster without me pulling the trigger..."


    "So, you <strong>do</strong> want me dead then? Is that why you invited me here?" I looked around, suddenly acutely aware that any ce in the ruins beyond the broken chain-link fence that was higher than two stories would have a clear line of sight to my current position for any rifle with a respectable range... after a few seconds, when the shot didn''te, I turned back to ED-E. "Why wait? What''s stopping you?"


    "Promises to keep. To others..." he said quickly. Almost too quickly. Like it was rehearsed. "And the wastnd is dangerous enough. Left to thend, thend has its way. And... if I <em>wanted</em> you dead, we would have met <em>sooner</em>." Ulysses grumbled something under his breath I couldn''t quite hear, but then spoke up again. "Not sure that''s the way this ends. Might be that History needs to have its say. If not... then messages will do."


    "... what?" I asked, not entirely certain of what he was talking about. Hell, I wasn''t even sure if I was loud enough to be heard. My only response was ED-E finally moving forward. But the movements were careful and measured, sticking at a fixed height above the ground, rather than bobbing up and down at a height above my head. Ulysses was still controlling him. The eyebot moved past me, and seemed to stare out at the ruins.


    "America sleeps ahead of you. Its nightmares filled with quakes. Storms. You''ll need to find your own path." The Ulysses-controlled ED-E spun in ce, and looked directly at me again. "That means waking America''s spears up from their slumber. Warheads set off the copse. Warheads could open the gates again. You''re... <em>resourceful</em>. This machine, robot with you. It can help you find the warheads you need to destroy. And their trigger. The detonator. The way ahead is below. The tools are there. The rest? Up to you." That sounded ominously final, but I didn''t yet have all the answers. Not yet. So I rolled the dice.


    "Wait, hang on..." I said aloud, kicking myself as soon as I opened my trap; the longer I spoke with Ulysses, the longer my friend would be trapped. "If... if we share history, then before going forward... I want to know the <strong>past</strong>."


    "Who are you, who do not know your history?" Ulysses said with a strange... I didn''t know what to call it... mncholy? Reverence? Disdain? His voice was so raspy, and so seemingly drained of emotion, it was hard to get a read on his intent. "You came all this way for answers. Only currency I have. Nothing else to be gained." He paused, as if thinking. "Could turn around. Walk away at any time. But... if history matters to you, you''ll need to <strong>earn</strong> it. Any logs of mine I have already cast away in the Divide. They''re lost to you. For now? Find the trigger for the warheads, buried in Hopeville. Use it to keep moving - and stay alive."


    "Fine," I said, the gears in my head turning. Logs... was he talking about holotape logs? Like the kind I''d found in his hideout, that had recordings of the conversations of him and Christine? I pushed it out of my head, trying to focus. "I''ll find this trigger. And then I''lle find <strong>you</strong>." Ulysses chuckled.


    "The Divide will send its worst against you. It may break you. We''ll see if you''re stronger." ED-E orbited around me, the speaker grill pointing at me the whole time. "Road gets rougher from here... <em>Courier</em>." I could almost hear theugh in his voice. Or was that... something else? "Left marks for you. Colors will tell the way. If you''re smart." He grunted. I <em>really</em> couldn''t tell what that was - did he think I was smart enough, or was he mocking me? "They''ll lead you to your home one more time. Lead to the ending of it. Maybe... remind you why you wander."


    Wait, what? Lead me... to my <em>home</em>? What''s he talking about?


    There was a burst of static, and an audible pop. As if on cue, the wind kicked up again, and ED-E wobbled unsteadily, almost being blown away. I rushed over to him, grabbing his chassis with my cybeic arm and holding him firmly in ce.


    "ED-E!" I said, unable to mask my concern. "You alright, little buddy?"


    "I..." ED-E''s voice came out of his speaker again; his whole chassis shuddered. "No. No, Friend_Courier. I am not alright. But I... I am returned. And that is enough."


    As ED-E, Sue and I made our way past the broken fences and down into the ruins of Hopeville, silence reigned. The only sounds were the wind howling all around us, and the faint intermittent clicking from the Geiger counter on my arm. ED-E was floating ahead of me, finding a path through the rubble and refuse, and I dutifully followed.


    I wanted to break the silence. There was something I was seriously curious about, and it was this: what, if anything, did ED-E experience when Ulysses took control? Was it like he shut off, or was he aware of what was going on during the transmission? Could he figure out where the transmission wasing from? But ED-E seemed really spooked by the whole affair. So I kept my mouth shut.


    This was getting infuriating. My chat with Ulysses had only produced more questions than answers, and I couldn''t even rely on ED-E to provide a bit of concrete...


    "Sheason?" Sue spoke up, bringing me back to reality. So to speak. "That seems like a problem."


    "What does?" I asked, looking around. Ahead of me was the underside of an overturned deuce-and-a-half, which looked like it had crashed through another chain-link fence, and rolled into a ditch. ED-E was hovering just above it, and seemed to be transfixed by something. When I finally got closer to the wreck, I understood:


    Tik-ik. Tik-kik-ik-tik-tik.


    That was a really big radiation spike. A whole series of really big radiation spikes, in fact. The closer I walked to the wreck, the more the Geiger counter kept spiking. It was like I was walking up to a barrel of wide open radioactive waste. When I reached the other side of the wreck, I discovered that I was closer to the mark than I thought.


    "Holy <strong>fuck</strong>!" I blurted out. Every part of me tensed up, because a <em>nuclear warhead</em> that had been on the back of the overturned truck when it crashed into the ditch was just... it was out in the open. Just... sitting there.


    It looked like it should''ve been the nose cone for the same kind of missile I''d seen in the silo. Up close, it was a whole hell of a lotrger than I was expecting. Even though it was lying on its side, the base of the cone-shaped warhead was easily a few feet taller than I was. Maybe a total of nine or ten feet in diameter. If it was sitting on its base, it would''ve easily been twice my size.


    Tik-k-ik. Tik. Ti-ik-ik.


    "Okay. Yes. That''s... yeah. That''s time to... just... back away. Slowly. Yeah." I started backing up, but I couldn''t pull my eyes away from the warhead. ED-E floated down and followed me.


    "Friend_Courier, you appear agitated," ED-E buzzed at me as I kept backing up. "Are you worried that the warhead will detonate at the slightest provocation, turning the 2.3 mile radius around the epicenter into an atomic crater?"


    Damnit, ED-E!


    "There is no need to worry," ED-E said, clearly trying to reassure me. "The sequence for detonating a nuclear warhead is aplex procedure with multiple redundancies. A conventional explosive could detonate next to the warhead, and would only ignite the explosives within the casing used for safe disposal of the device."


    "<strong>Oh</strong>." I said, refusing to stop backing up, even though I walked into yet <em>another</em> overturned deuce. "Well. That is just reassuring as hell then, isn''t it?"


    Tik-tik-ik.


    "Yes," ED-E said, spinning in ce to look back at the bomb, but he continued to follow me. "It is likely, Friend_Courier, that your Geiger counter is merely detecting the radioactive material leaking out of the crack in the side. Nothing to worry about."


    FUCKING <strong>DAMNIT</strong>, ED-E!


    I leaned against the tbed of the overturned deuce-and-a-half, and did my best to try and steady my breathing. I tried to convince myself that ED-E was right, and I had nothing to worry about. I''d taken some Rad-X earlier - before leaving my car and walking through the canyon wreckage, even - and I had more Rad-X pills in my medkit. But I didn''t dare take off my helmet to take more out in the open like this, and especially not so close to a <em>leaking atomic warhead</em>. I''d have to find some shelter soon if I wanted to quiet this paranoia.


    "Friend_Courier..." ED-E said, flying close to me. I shook my head, and tried to wave him off.


    "I''m alright, ED-E. I just... give me a minute."


    "No, Friend_Courier. <strong>Look</strong>. Under your hand."


    That certainly snapped me to attention. I looked over at the tbed I was leaning against and moved my hand... I''d been leaning against some graffiti. Another one of Ulysses'' gs. A blue one, this time.


    "That is one of the markings left behind by Enemy_Courier," ED-E stated, matter of factly. I snorted out augh, momentarily distracted from the peril of the nuke by ED-E''s name for Ulysses. "What do you think it means, Friend_Courier?"


    "I don''t know," I mumbled, scanning the wreckage around the truck. There were several broken crates, marked with the spray painted US Army star-inside-a-circle logo... and something metal that clearly didn''t belong. I knelt down, set my G-36 against the pile, and grabbed the silvery-metal box, sweeping away the refuse covering up the holotape.


    Y-17.15


    "Y-17..." I said aloud, reading thebel on the side. The medical center from the Big Empty. I looked down at my Pip Boy, checking through the files under the DATA tab: sure enough, the two holotapes I''d found in Ulysses hideout in the Big Empty werebeled Y-17.5 and Y-17.9.


    I was just about to plug the holotape into my Pip Boy when Sue spoke up again... and I suddenly became aware that I was in more immediate danger than radiation poisoning.


    "Oh no!" She squeaked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The bad guys areing!" I shoved the holotape into my duster and grabbed the rifle, looking around. Sure enough, when I nced down at the motion tracker in the helmets heads-up disy, I saw four red dots closing in on my position from the edge of sensor range.


    "ED-E," I hissed. "Vanish." As I spoke, I pressed the button in the center of my belt with a click. There was an electrical crackle above my head, and ED-E disappeared behind a stealth field; I became transparent as well secondster, after the multi-colored rainbow miasma washed over me. Cautiously, slowly, I started backing up again. I only stopped when I felt I was adequately hidden behind the overturned truck cab.


    That may seem a bit redundant, considering I was <em>technically</em> invisible. But I didn''t want to take any chances, since I had no idea what wasing. There was a solid minute where nothing at all happened. I hid behind the truck, still as a statue, eyes fixed on the red dots on my HUD''s motion tracker inching closer...


    A humanoid figure wearing an NCR uniform walked into view... except it wasn''t <em>quite </em>an NCR uniform. It looked bloody and torn, and seemed to be held together with a patchwork of scraps. Not just cloth scraps, either, but metal as well, like bent and warped street signs. In his hands was an assault rifle - an AR15, or maybe an M16, only with scrap metal bolted around the barrel instead of the usual wooden furniture.


    Five more figures marched into view behind the first. Two of them appeared to be more NCR soldiers... and thest three were dressed in what appeared to be <em>Legion</em> armor. They weren''t trying to kill each other. Like the first one I''d seen, their armor was bloody, and held together with scraps. But there was one thing that stood out when I looked at all of them: their heads were all exposed, and what I saw was <strong>not skin</strong>.


    Red.


    I stared in disbelief at the six figures. Understanding andprehension washed over me, followed swiftly by horror. None of those dead bodies in the silo had been skinned <em>after</em> they died. They''d been walking around with their skin ripped off and <em>all their muscles exposed</em>.


    What. The. Fuck.


    I couldn''t understand how they were still alive and walking around. It didn''t make any sense whatsoever... and yet, there they were. The six of them converged on the deuce-and-a-half that was crashed in the ditch... except it soon became clear that it wasn''t the <em>truck </em>they were interested in, but the <em>warhead</em>. None of them said anything.


    The first one approached the warhead on the ground, and pressed a red hand against the side. He dragged his hand across the outer casing of the nose cone, and looked at the others, giving them a silent nod. His hand left a bloody print on the side of the warhead. None of them seemed to be paying any attention to the radiation... leaking...


    Ghouls. They were <em>ghouls</em>. They had to be. That''s how they were still alive - radiation <em>heals</em> ghouls! The radiation must be what''s keeping them alive and walking, despite the fact that none of them appear to have any skin. Still didn''t exin <em>why</em> they were all skinned, but Itched onto the ghoul thing as hard as I could. It was something I understood, and something I could wrap my head around.


    I watched as the five of them worked in silence, surrounding the warhead, and covering it in ropes, cables, and... what was that, cargoting? The first one I''d seen didn''t help, but he made gestures, directing the other three as they surrounded the warhead with straps. He was clearly the one in charge.


    Within moments, the bloody ghouls had the warheadpletely surrounded by ropes and tie-down straps - and I really did mean <strong>bloody</strong>. Every part of the warhead that they touched was covered in streaks of quickly drying blood...


    Grind.


    Three of them at the base of the warhead grabbed several ropes each, and pulled at the same time. Thest two moved to the other side, and started pushing. Slowly, the warhead began to move as it was dragged out of the ditch. The one in charge looked on as they worked. Even with all of them working together, dragging the warhead was slow going. It left an absolutely massive groove in the dirt as they pulled it free. But the fact that they were able to even move it at all was astounding: it looked like it must have weighed several <em>tons</em>.


    After several minutes of work, they''d finally cleared the overturned truck, and carried on dragging the warhead down the broken road. The one in charge stood in ce, watching as the five of them disappeared around the bend. And then he started looking around, ncing over his shoulder and turning around...


    I tensed up, gripping the rifle in my hands tightly. He approached the overturned deuce that I was hiding behind, and stopped when he got to the g marker. He leaned in close, and that gave me a chance to get a good look at his... well, he didn''t really have a <em>face</em> anymore.


    He didn''t have lips, a nose, eyelids, or even ears. Pieces of his skull were visible beneath the exposed muscles and tendons holding everything together. Droplets of blood asionally dropped off the bottom of his chin. His eyeballs were like shriveled grapes shoved into the middle of deep, sunken pits, drained of all color until nothing was left except grey.


    Right, enough gawking. Time to get the fuck out of here, while his attention is on the blue graffiti. Cautiously, I took a single step back-


    In that precise moment, the wind died down, and the sound of my boots shuffling against the gravel made a noise like I was smashing a boulder into smaller boulders with a hammer. His attention snapped to my direction, and brought hehis rifle to bear.


    The wind started howling again, muffling the bark of his rifle. The bullets ricocheted against the ground, kicking up dust that was carried away by the wind... but I wasn''t there. He crept forward, rifle at the ready, his head darting back and forth with measured, precise movements. He leaned against the front grill, in the same way a special forces soldier would take cover against a wall immediately before a door breach maneuver.


    In a sh, he came around the front of the deuce, firing again. None of the bullets hit anything except the ground and the rubble scattered around. Cautiously, he started moving again... andpletely missed me. I was staying perfectly still, keeping myself as t as I could against the ruined chassis of the deuce. The broken, grey metal and odd angles of the twisted transmission helped to break up my transparent outline, and made me even less noticeable than normal.


    He must have missed me by only about a foot and a half. As soon as his back was turned, I sprang into action, because I knew I wouldn''t get another chance. I reached out, grabbed him by the meaty neck with my cybeic hand, and stabbed him in the back with thebat knife I usually kept strapped to my boot.


    His whole body shuddered, and his jaw opened wide; the sound he made was a raspy gasping, sucking noise. His rifle fired wildly for a few seconds before the recoil knocked it out of his hand, sending it ttering to the ground. I clenched my cybeic fist around his neck as hard as I could, and pulled; a bloody chunk of his windpipe came free, and I shoved him forward away from me.


    I fully expected the walking corpse to fall t on his face, but he didn''t. He doubled over and staggered, but remained on his feet. He turned back on me, mouth wide open and neck gushing blood like a waterfall. He lunged at me with clenched fists; I deflected the blow into the deuce, and blood sprayed everywhere. His bloody fist impacted the fuel tank, and dented it like it''d been hit by a sledgehammer, turning itpletely concave.


    I reared back, and hit him in the side of the head with a shimmering fist; the swift movement and the blood were causing the transparent effects to falter slightly. It probably didn''t matter, though, because he dropped like a sack of bricks after my fist clobbered him.


    I wasn''t going to take any chances. I pulled Roscoe off my hip, buried the muzzle against the skull and fired: three rounds into the back of his head. I stood over the body, and kept the pistol aimed at him. For all I knew, he''d be like the Ghost People in the Madre, and just get back up again.


    But he didn''t move. A pool of blood started collecting directly under the hole in his neck, and smaller blood pools appeared near all the exposed muscle. I let out a sigh of relief, holstering Roscoe, and pressing the button on my belt with a click. A shimmering miasma washed over me, and I was suddenly fully opaque again.


    "Cessation of hostilitiesplete!" Sue chirped happily. "That was fun!"


    "Yeah... <em>fun</em>..." I grunted out, trying to catch my breath. "It''s not often I can get the drop on somebody who looks... well, looks <em>like that</em>." I reached down, and pulled the knife out of his back, wiping off the blood from the de. There was an electric pop, and I looked up in time to see ED-E rematerialize.


    "Hey, buddy," I said, sliding the knife back into its boot sheathe. I gestured at the corpse lying at my feet, face-down in the dirt. "What do you think? Zombie kill of the week?" I chuckled, in a feeble attempt to mask how unnerved I was... and then I stopped, when I realized ED-E wasn''t saying anything, and was in factpletely still.


    Fuck, not again.


    "So..." Ulysses voice growled out of ED-E''s speaker. "You''ve seen the Divide''s... <em>new</em> inhabitants."


    "What are you talking about?" I growled out, clenching my fists. ED-E floated methodically through the air, and came to a stop directly over the dead body. The speaker pointed directly down.


    "They''re not natives... most of them. Came with duty. Purpose. Ready to kill each other." ED-E swiveled in ce, to look at me again. "The Divide was stronger. Left marks on them. Not Bear. Not Bull. Sandstorms yed them. Radiation marked them. Made them equal in History''s eyes. The Marked Men. As vicious as the storms, these shadows of Legion, of NCR." ED-E floated backward away from me... and Ulysses said onest thing before giving me my friend back:


    "Silhouettes of things toe."

 Chapter 123: Riders On The Storm

    Chapter 123: Riders On The Storm


    The sandstorm was getting closer... and boy, did it look <strong>angry</strong>. A wall of sand, hundreds of feet high - maybe even a mile or more - boiling and churning. Every so often, there would be a boom of thunder, followed by a sh from within. It was like a great beast, wing at the terrain,shing forward blindly, consuming everything in its path. I''d seen several sandstorms in the past before, sure. But I''d <strong>never</strong> seen one quite like <em>this.</em>


    On the plus side: it was louder than a diesel generator falling down a flight of stairs and smacking a deathw in the face. It was certainly loud enough that I could follow the five Marked Men hauling the nuke easily without them noticing. Hell, even if I wasn''t invisible, they''d probably have a hard time noticing me over all that racket.


    Still... the longer I shadowed the five of them hauling that massive warhead, the more uneasy I became. They''d been dragging that damn thing down the cracked and broken street a good ten or fifteen minutes now... and not one of them seemed to notice or care that the one in charge hadn''t caught up with them.


    On the one hand, I felt I should be grateful. They hadn''t dropped what they were doing to double back, which meant they were unlikely to run into me... but on the <em>other </em>hand, not going back for someone missing - especially someone who seemed like he was in charge - was not normal behavior. Even for ghouls with all their skin ripped off by sandstorms and kept alive by radiation. Something wasn''t right. Besides the obvious, I mean. That sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach took hold and wouldn''t let go.


    It''s really strange, beingforted and unnerved by exactly the same thing. It''s kind of like sitting down on a warm toilet seat. Comfortable, and yet extremely disquieting.


    The Marked Men finally came to a stop at what could only be described as a fortress. Years ago, it may have been some kind of main street in the army town... but now? There was a wall of debris, scrap metal, and rusted car parts piled two stories high... and the reason I knew it was two stories because it stretched from the two story building on one side of the street all the way to the other two story building. An enormous, uneven roof had been constructed out of scrap metal over the street, and the gaps were filled with what looked like old deuce-and-a-half cargo tarps.


    The Marked Man in front banged on the metal wall three times. Several seconds passed, and nothing happened. Then, a figure emerged onto the edge of the roof. He had some kind of huge fucking missileuncher I couldn''t identify resting on his shoulder. He looked down, and then disappeared behind the roof''s edge without a word. Barely a secondter, there was a hideous grinding of metal against metal - louder even than the constant drone of the approaching storm - and the movement of the wall of scrap made me realize: that was the <em>front door</em>.


    I guess I really was right to call it a fortress after all. That was just a hunch.


    I was just about to move on from the Marked Men and my hidden inspection of their creepy fortress from afar, when ED-E spoke to me through my helmet system and ruined my daypletely.


    "Friend_Courier. I believe we should find a way into that structure."


    I could practically feel my eyes start to twitch.


    "Say that again, ED-E?" I whispered, tapping the side of my helmet. "I''m not entirely sure I heard that right."


    "The trigger Enemy_Courier mentioned." ED-E began. There was a click in my ear, and suddenly I heard Ulysses voice: "<em>Warheads set off the copse. Warheads could open the way again...</em>" I didn''t have time to question, because there was another click, and I heard ED-E again. "I believe Enemy_Courier was referring to the EOD_Mk6 device, codename:Laser-detonator."


    "Let me guess..." I sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Theser detonator is inside thatpound?"


    "There is a high probability of that, yes." ED-E confirmed. "A preliminary scan of the structure indicates an energy signature within that corresponds to the EOD_Mk6. But there is another reason for my suggestion."


    "Do I even want to know?" I asked.


    "There is another mark left by Enemy_Courier on the walls of the structure." ED-E said simply. I leaned around the pile of concrete rubble I was taking cover behind, and sure enough, there was some more of Ulysses'' graffiti. A white g painted on the corner. It was half hidden beneath some rubble leaning against the building, but it was definitely visible if you knew what you were looking for.


    "Great..."


    I couldn''t find any easy way into the fortress. Not from ground level, at least. There was no way I was getting through that giant junk door in front. From the sound it made, there was probably some kind of hydraulics operating the thing. I tried to circle around the outside of thepound (moving slowly, so as to minimize any distortions from Sue''s thermo-optic camouge), and all I found were alleyways blocked off with concrete, and all the doors and windows bricked up. There must have been at least twelve buildings, with any gap between them barricaded, all stitched together to make one massive structure. It was an astonishingly thorough job...


    But a sentry on the roof meant there must be a way <em>inside</em> from up there. That was my best bet. Granted, I probably <em>could</em> just smash my way through the wreckage of the bricked-up doors with my cybeic fist, but that was sure to attract all manner of unwanted attention... and I wanted to stay hidden as long as possible.


    I made my way around to the back of the fortress and saw arge section of copsed highway leaning against the building. Several destroyed cars (or parts of cars) were also leaning up against the wreckage. All this rubble provided enough handholds for me to climb up to the roof with ease, even with the high winds threatening to blow me off bnce.


    I vaulted onto the roof, andnded as softly as I could, practically going down on all fours to keep my profile as low as possible. I was surprised to find that the roof wasn''t level at all. Between the different heights of the buildings, the rubble, the metal over the street, and the various pieces of tarps all fluttering in the high winds like gs, it was more like an obstacle course.


    Up ahead, near the edge of the roof, I could see my target: the Marked Man with theuncher. He was sitting in a small alcove constructed out of concrete and scrap metal, like a pillbox bunker, or a tiny watch tower. The strange missileuncher was leaning against the wall, and he was hunched over, intently focused on devouring some kind of meat ravenously. He didn''t seem to be bothered in the slightest by the heavy winds swirling sand all around him.


    "ED-E?" I whispered, skulking among the debris on the roof. "You reading me?"


    "Affirmative, Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice beeped in my ear.


    "I think I can get behind him," I said. "But I''m gonna need a distraction. Can you get his attention?"


    ED-E didn''t reply. Instead, there was a sh of electricity six or seven feet away from the Marked Man, and ED-E appeared out of thin air. He sted a chord of patriotic marching music, fired hisser twice, and flew straight up like he was shot from a gun. Thesers hit the Marked Man in the side of the arm, but he didn''t seem phased - just annoyed.


    That certainly did the trick. In a sh, the meat in his hands was dropped, he was up on his feet, and theuncher was up on his shoulder. ED-E was zipping about all over the ce, and he was having a hard time tracking the metal ball. So was I, if I''m honest, but that''s because I was busy sneaking up behind the Marked Man.


    The weapon on his shoulder let off a series of tones - like a few bars of a strangely familiar song - and the end of it exploded in fire. One after another, tiny missiles screamed out of the end. Red and orange sparks flew out behind each one, and when they exploded - missing ED-E by miles - they erupted against a ruined building off in the distance in a cascade of burning phosphorous.


    Just because he missed every shot didn''t mean I''d give him a chance to fire a second time. I grabbed the back of his skull with one shimmering, transparent hand, and wrapped my cybeic arm around his neck like a vice as quickly as I could. I twisted, and there was a wrenching sound of snapping bone. Despite that, I still felt a sort of squirming movement against my grip, so I wasn''t going to take any chances. I grabbed hold of the end of theuncher sitting on his shoulder, pulled away, and kicked him square in the back. The Marked Man tumbled head over heels, spinning upside down after hitting the roof''s edge, and toppled to the ground. The only sound he made was the wet thud from hitting the pavement.


    I clicked the button on my belt to be visible again momentarily. I wanted to check how much ammo theuncher had, and I couldn''t do that if it was mostly invisible. The weapon split in half on a hinge, and revealed a small pod on the inside for tiny missiles - 12 had been fired, one was left. So I put the thing back together, settled it on my shoulder, and leaned over the edge. The Marked Man on the pavement was, amazingly enough, still writhing on the ground, trying to get up. So I fired. There was an explosion of phosphor, and all that was left of him when the smoke cleared were scorch marks, blown apart chunks of meat and bone, and a bloody stain on the concrete.


    "Bad guys dealt with!" Sue chirped happily. I grumbled, turning to look at the fortress, and switched my eyes to infrared. There were several humanoid silhouettes highlighted in faint red. I couldn''t tell exactly how many were inside, I just knew there were <em>a lot</em>.


    "Not quite." I sighed, snapping my eyes back to normal. I turned back to the edge, and saw the raging sandstorm, inching closer. "We''re not out of the briar patch yet."


    "I guess it''s a good thing you have that Red re, then!" Sue said. ED-E floated down and bobbed, like he was nodding in agreement.


    "A rocketuncher should prove quite useful in the fights ahead, Friend_Courier." ED-E added.


    "Wait, Red re? A rocketuncher?" I asked, taking another look at the giant metal tube - and then I did a double take. Painted onto the firing end of theuncher was an American g that almost looked like one of Ulysses'' g markers... was this what he... I shook it off. "I thought this was a missileuncher?"


    "US Army terminology defines missiles as guided munitions, Friend_Courier. The thermobaric projectiles fired from that weapon are unguided - which would make them rockets. Though, strictly speaking, most man-portable, shoulder-fired anti-tank systems are known colloquially as missiles." ED-E paused. "Or bazookas, by the unintelligent." While ED-E talked, I thought back to all the missileunchers I''d used in the past...


    "Guided, huh? Never seen any missiles track targets..." I smiled inside my helmet, andughed a bit. "Hell, maybe that''s why it has ''miss'' right there in the name, right?" I looked back out at the sandstorm, and shouldered the weapon. There didn''t appear to be any ammo left, but no sense leaving it. I was trying to be stealthy for the moment, but who knows when things would get <em>really </em>loud. "So, speaking of names... why''d you call it ''Red re,'' Sue? Just because of the red mes?"


    "The brains made a lot of prototype weapon designs for the Army," Sue exined. "I recognize that design from the X-5 Explosive Weapons Testing Facility - it''s called the Red re. Not really sure why..."


    "The name is likely a reference to the sound generated by the weapon, Stealth_Sue," ED-E floated in close, directly over the rocketuncher in my hands. "The six tones produced correspond to six notes of ''The Star-Spangled Banner.''" There was a click as ED-E floated away, and suddenly he began to y music, apanied by an unknown female voice singing some words: "...<em>And the rockets'' red re...</em>" Sure enough, the music matched the noises I''d heard moments ago. The music stopped, there was another click, and ED-E began speaking again. "The lyrics were originally written in 1814 by Francis Scott Key for the poem ''Defence of Fort M''Henry,'' and made the US National Anthem on 03 MAR 1931 by congressional resolution (46 Stat. 1508, codified 36 U.S.C:  301), signed by President_Hoover."


    A heavy quiet hung in the air for a few moments after thatrge (and entirely unnecessary) info-dump.


    "It must be nice, knowing all that context about The World," Sue said, breaking the silence. "All my data is tied up in files from Big MT. Or information about being sneaky and unseen."


    "I''m learning so much about history this trip," I mumbled to myself, shaking my head, and looking off into the distance. "But all I can really think about <em>right now</em> is that massive sandstorm getting closer. I think it''s probably best if we get indoors." I pressed the button on my belt, and disappeared in a rainbow shimmer so I could search the roof. There was bound to be an entrance around here somewhere...


    Tik. Tik-ik.


    I dropped down through a trapdoor in the ceiling, and as soon as my feet hit the floor, my Geiger counter started going off. The inside of this ce was filthy with radiation... which made a certain amount of sense. That was really annoying - here I was, trying to be stealthy, and yet this thing on my wrist was merrily clicking away without a care in the waste.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice buzzed in my ear. "I will attempt to keep watch on your progress from outside."


    "Got it," I whispered, crouching down low to the ground. It was unnervingly quiet in here. "Can you tell how many hostiles are in here?"


    "Negative. There is too much interference from low-spread radiation to urately pinpoint life signs. But the trigger should be in the upper southwest corner of the facility." ED-E paused. "Possibly."


    "Well, I suppose that''s to be expected..." I said,ing to a doorway. It wasn''t an open door - there was just no door at all.


    I could finally see how this ce wasid out. Catwalks made of scrap metal connected the second floor of buildings on one side of the street to buildings on the other. The street between the buildings and underneath the scrap metal canopy was surprisingly clear of debris... and, strangely enough, it was very well lit. <em>Extremely</em> well lit. I could make out at least three generators chugging away, all hooked up to various lights all pointed directly at the ground. I carefully made my way out of the door and onto one of the catwalks to get a better view.


    To my right was the main entrance - the giant scrap metal door was hooked up to several chains and a mechanized pulley system of some kind, rather than hydraulics. Resting just inside the door was the warhead, still covered in straps. To my left, at the far end of the street at the back of the fortress were several vehicles. There were at least three dirtbikes that I could see, as well as onerge four-wheeled vehicle, like a dune buggy. It was little more than a metal frame, two seats, a steering wheel, and an engine bolted to a rusted piece-of-shit chassis.


    I cautiously made my way across the metal catwalk, and switched my eyes to thermal - the humanoid blobs were much more distinct now. A cluster of them were in one of the buildings at the catwalk''s terminus. I''d have no choice but to try and sneak past them. There was another doorway, and as I crept past, I switched my eyes back to normal. I couldn''t help myself - I nced inside to try and see what they were doing.


    There were six of them, all sitting around a makeshift campfire, made out of half a torn-up oil drum. Like the others I''d seen, they were wearing a mixture of tattered NCR uniforms, and pieces of Legion gear, all held together with scraps and whatever else they could find. They were all in the middle of eating some kind of meat, just like the one on the roof had been... and I could feel the color drain from my face, when I saw the pile of obviously human body parts stuffed into several bags of gore off in one corner.


    I moved off quickly, before any of them noticed the clicking sound from my Geiger counter and decided to investigate. I guess resorting to cannibalism made a certain amount of sense in a ce like this, at least from a purely survivalist point of view. I had kind of hoped that I''d had enough of cannibals after the White Glove Society, but hey. That''s life.


    "You should be getting close now, Friend_Courier," ED-E said; I was zigzagging around the ce as cautiously as I could, to try and avoid any of the Marked Men. They didn''t seem to be patrolling the inside, which was good, but even though this fortress was made out of a dozen buildings, there didn''t seem to be a lot of room to maneuver, which was bad.


    Thankfully, I was pretty sure I knew which room contained thatser detonator, and when I checked it for heat signatures, it was empty. I switched my eyes back to normal, and looked around quickly - this ce looked almost like an armory. I clicked the button on my belt to return to visibility, and had a quick look around.


    "ED-E, I think I''ve found it," I whispered aloud, after scavenging some rockets for the Red re, and some spare 5.56mm ammo for the G36. "Is it a sort of drab olive green, and looks like the result of aser pistol fucking a C4 detonator?"


    Silence.


    "I... I am not certain I understand that reference, Friend_Courier," ED-E eventually said. Sue just giggled. I didn''t reply, instead picking it up and turning it around on my hand to examine it. It was basically just a metal box on top of a pistol grip, much smaller than a normal bulkyser pistol. There was a digital readout on the side, and a small engraving which read "EOD MK 6 LASER DETONATOR" and another just above the trigger: "PROPERTY OF US GOVT." A strip of red trim was set into the end of box near the firing aperture.


    "Yep, this is definitely it," I said. "So, you think this will blow up warheads without turning into a gigantic nuclear fireball?"


    "The coded-pulses of visible redser light powered by the microfusion breeder cell within the device should detonate the chemical explosives within the warhead casing. The explosion should eliminate any possibility of a nuclear fusion reaction. Five seconds of continuous fire are required to initiate the disposal reaction." ED-E paused, and then added another word that didn''t really fill me with hope: "Theoretically."


    "Oh, perfect," I grumbled. "Whatever. Let''s get the fuck out of here, and find somewhere out of the way to test this thing. I don''t want to be trapped inside this ce when the sandstorm hits."


    "Negative, Friend_Courier!" ED-E said, sounding very distressed. "A pair of hostiles have emerged onto the roof from your entrance point. I can not determine how many more are in the vicinity."


    "Shit," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Are you alright?"


    "I have thus far avoided detection. But if you return the same way you came, Friend_Courier, you will likely be discovered!"


    A very stupid idea shed into my head. I looked down at theser detonator in my hand, thought about the warhead next to the door at one end of the fortress... and then the vehicles in the motorpool at the other end.


    I guess it was a good thing I found that extra rocket ammo. Things are going to get loud a lot sooner than I expected.


    "Okay, then... let''s test this thing out, and <strong>then</strong> get the fuck out of here." I clicked the button on my belt, and disappeared again as I made my way back to the center of the fortress. Several Marked Men were making their way across the catwalks from one side to the other at the far end. It almost didn''t make sense - it looked like they were heading to the trapdoor I''d used as my entrance, but even spending all this time in the fort, I still hadn''t heard any of them speak. How were theymunicating to one another?


    Right forget it. What am I going to steal? Probably one of the dirt bikes. I''d ridden bikes like that in the past, and all of them had been really easy to start. That dune buggy would probably take way too long to hotwire, and if this hare-brained scheme of mine rattling around my skull was going to work, I''d need to be fast.


    I dropped down off the catwalk as close as I could to one of the bikes. As soon as my mostly transparent feet hit concrete, everything erupted in noise. A ringing xon like a siren sted out of every corner, and echoed off every surface.


    Fuck! There must be some kind of motion sensor triggered rm down here! Okay, that was going to make thingsplicated! I dove for one of the dirt bikes, opened the choke, switched on the gas, and straddled the bike as quick as I could. Before my foot was even fully on the kickstart, about six Marked Men appeared from nowhere at the upper level of the fortress... but they didn''t start shooting bullets at me, like I was expecting.


    One after the other, each of the Marked Men on the upper level fired <em>signal res</em> at random points onto the street. The bright red res bounced against the ground, vomiting trails of colored red smoke into the air. I didn''t even bother to question what was going on, because I''d finally managed to hit the kickstart in <em>just</em> the right way, and the bike between my legs rumbled to life.


    "ED-E!" I yelled, aiming theser detonator at the warhead near the door with one hand and revving the engine with the throttle under my right. "Get ready to motor, because we! Are! Leaving!" I pulled the trigger, and a fuside ofser bolts fired out of the end of theser detonator, faster than bullets from a machine gun. I don''t know if it was a trick of the light, or because of all the colored smokeing off the res, but as theser bolts hit the warhead, the outer shell seemed to glow...


    The opposite end of the fortress erupted in a fireball. One of the catwalks nearest the explosion waspletely consumed in fire, and most of the lights were knocked over by the st or simply explodedpletely. I was buffeted by the shockwave from the explosion, and the bike I was sitting on was pushed back several inches; most of the colored smoke was cleared by the initial shock as well. The explosive roar drowned out the siren, and I was hit with a <em>second</em> st of wind - not a shockwave, but wind from outside.


    Result.


    I shoved the detonator into my duster, realized that I was significantly less invisible now that I was moving so much, refused to care, and shot forward on the bike. The smoke from the still burning res littering the street swirled and mixed with the fiery, ck smoke from the explosion, and the brown, dirty, sandy wind rushing in from outside. It was so thick that I couldn''t <em>actually</em> see the hole in the wall, but I drove straight at where I <em>thought </em>it would be, and hoped for the best.


    Right before I plunged into the smoldering fireball cloud and escaped to freedom, one of the Marked Men dropped down almost directly in front of me. This one was wearing a Legion uniform -plete with mask, goggles, and feathery headdress - and if it wasn''t for his torn midriff, exposing a red stomach of exposed muscles, I would''ve almost mistaken him for a still living Legionnaire. Each hand held a machete, and it looked like he was going to try to leap on the bike to run me through.


    "Nope! No time for you!" I yelled, swerving off to one side, and lifting my cybeic hand off the throttle just long enough catch him with a clothesline. There was a wet thud beneath my forearm, and I didn''t bother waiting to see the result. I just drove straight at the still smoldering cloud remnant of the fireball. Barely a secondter, I was out in the open air. Though, perhaps, ''open air'' is being a bit generous. I was on the ruined, broken street, and out of the fortress, at least.


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E shouted, buzzing along directly overhead. "Excellent, you made it! Do you have a n?" I nced over at ED-E keeping pace near my head; the buzzing of the two-stroke between my legs and the roar of the sandstorm just seemed to punctuate the rather rming fact:


    "Uh... no!" I yelled, swerving around a wrecked car blocking half the street. "This was as far as I''d got!" At that moment, there was a click, a rainbow miasma, and I returned to visibility.


    "Pleasee up with something quick!" Sue shouted. "I don''t want you to die!"


    "I am definitely in agreement with Stealth_Sue!" ED-E shouted, looking behind me. "The hostiles are giving chase!" I cast a nce behind me, and sure enough, the other two dirt bikes (and the dune buggy, amazingly) had just burst out of the smoke cloud billowing out of the front of the fortress.


    "Didn''t think they''d get those runnin'' that fast!" I said, turning back to the road just in time to dodge out of the way of <strong>another</strong> broken car. Right, this was swiftly turning into a distinctly bad situation. And just to hammer the point home, I saw a pair of bullets ricochet off the road right in front of me. This was like the ssic rock and hard ce - behind me were Marked Men chasing me in off-road vehicles and shooting at me, and in front of me was the most massive, most dangerous looking sandstorm that I''d ever...


    Sandstorm.


    Another stupid, idiotic, and potentially suicidal idea flooded my thoughts. I opened the throttle, and aimed the bike straight at the massive wall of sand.


    "Friend_Courier... what... what are you doing?" ED-E called after me. I''m pretty confident he knew <em>exactly </em>what I was doing, and was just in disbelief. Sue, on the other hand, didn''t bother feigning ignorance and made her displeasure known straightaway.


    "Wait, you''re not actually going to drive <em>into</em> a sandstorm?!" Sue squeaked in absolute terror. Iughed, trying to ignore the screaming inside my head.


    "They''d be crazy to follow us, wouldn''t they?" I''m not sure if ED-E or Sue could even hear me. The giant wall of sand was rolling over everything, approaching at quite a speed now that I was driving straight at it, and the roar waspletely deafening.


    "You don''t have to do this to impress me!" Sue squeaked.


    It was like I was driving headfirst at a wall. I could almost hear my brain yelling at me in that British ent, screaming at me to stop... and then I hit the wall.


    I couldn''t hear anything. The white noise roar all around me was so absolute and all consuming,ing from every direction that it blocked out everything. I couldn''t <em>see </em>anything out of my helmet''s goggles, either... except for a darkened, orange haze. No roads. No cars. No buildings. Just a constant barrage of sand, pummeling me in the face, threatening to-


    I''m not entirely certain what happened. I don''t know if the bike was knocked over by the wind because it was so light, if I lost my bnce because I couldn''t see where I was going, or if I hit something. I suppose it doesn''t really matter, because the fact is this: the bike stopped moving, and I <strong>didn''t</strong>. I was thrown over the handlebars and crashed face-first into the pavement. I must have rolled a good ten or fifteen feet before I finally managed to grab hold of the ground and bring myself to a stop. I''m sure that if I hadn''t been wearing my armor, helmet, and duster, I would''ve looked like a bloody piece of ground brahmin meat.


    "Friend_Courier!" I heard ED-E shout at me through the speaker in my helmet. "This way!"


    I tried to look up, and found it surprisingly difficult. The wind and sand were so heavy it was like I was caught in the middle of a copsing building. But eventually, I managed to look up and all around... nothing. I switched my eyes to nightvision. I thought it might be dark enough to work, but all it did was change the dark orange haze to a slightly less dark <em>green</em> haze. I switched to infrared. I couldn''t see any heat signatures through the swirling grit.


    Then I switched to that electromaic field vision... and that did the trick. Almost everything was washed out in shades of ck and dark blue, but I could see something directly ahead of me that filled me with hope: a bright, shining orb of white. ED-E stood out like a spotlight, and I just focused on that orb as I crawled on my hands and knees along the broken ground, straining against the winds beating me down. A p of thunder boomed overhead ominously.


    "Quickly, Friend_Courier!" When ED-E spoke, another shape emerged out of the fuzzy blue-ck surroundings: a faint outline in dark grey, almost like a half-moon. Was that a building? "In here!" The outline became more distinct, the closer I got: that was one of those Quonset huts! I scrambled forward, clutching at whatever I could, until my hands finally found purchase against metal. I pulled myself up, fumbled around blindly for a few seconds until I found the doorknob -


    The door flung open, almost hitting me in the face. The bright white orb that I saw instead of ED-E rushed past my face, and into the open door; his light grew dim inside the walls. I reached out, grabbed the door handle, pulled myself in, and practically copsed when I yanked the door closed behind me.


    "ED-E!" I shouted a bit louder than was strictly necessary; my ears were still ringing from the storm, after all. "You alright?" I found the lock, and bolted the door shut. It rattled a bit, but it seemed to be rtively secure. I looked around, and there were several other grey outlines all around, which all paled inparison to the gigantic spotlight where ED-E was.


    "Yes, Friend_Courier. I am still in one piece. Are you?" I reached out and fumbled with some kind of box on the wall. A click echoed through the hut, and lines of electricity sprang to life in the walls all around. I switched my eyes back to normal, and found (now that the lights were just barely working) that we were inside a barracks of some kind. All around me, the walls were shaking from the storm, but nothing seemed to being loose, and no sand seemed to be finding its way inside.


    "Yeah, I''m good..." I was a bit out of breath. "At least we found some shelter... think they''ll follow us?" ED-E shook back and forth in midair.


    "Unlikely. I detected the hostile vehiclesing to a stop seconds before we plunged into the storm. I suggest we stay in this spot until the storm passes, Friend_Courier."


    "No arguments here..." Sue squeaked. I nodded.


    "In that case," I reached up and pulled off my helmet; I breathed deep from the unfiltered air, andughed a little at the enormous pile of disced sand that fell from the helmet. "I''m gonna look around, see if there''s any food. Who knows how long we''ll be stuck here..."


    As it happened, I was able to find some food (or a close approximation, at least) fairly quickly. At the end of one of the bunk beds was an intact shipping crate, stocked full of unopened US Army rations: MRE''s. Meals-Ready-to-Eat. I''d heard about them before, but I''d never actually seen or eaten any. It was a decent enough snack for being 200 years old, and it was enough to help me swallow those Rad-X pills... but food wasn''t the only thing we found in that barracks.


    "Friend_Courier..." ED-E spoke up suddenly while I was halfway finished with the rubbery piece of fake meat I was trying to tear apart with my teeth. "This... this is..."


    "ED-E?" I asked, getting up from my spot on the floor. "What''s up?" He was hovering between two bunk beds, staring at something on the wall. I crept up behind him, and saw two things that made my eyes widen.


    The first was the poster: RALPHIE the Robot''s Incredible Odyssey. It was pretty worn, but it was clearly the same as the poster I''d seen hanging over the bed in The Sink. However, not all of the poster was visible, and not just because of the rips and tears at the edges. There was graffiti covering half the poster, and plenty of the wall besides: another one of Ulysses'' blue g markers.


    "Oh my..." Sue said. I just backed up, and started looking around again. Thest time I''d seen one of his blue markers, I''d found one of his logs. Was there another one around here?


    A familiar click from ED-E broke me out of my search. He swiveled in midair to look at me. I was fully expecting to hear from Ulysses, once again... but no.


    "I don''t believe it!" I heard Whitley''s voice shout. I let out a sigh and rxed slightly. "Grant actually went to Colonel Autumn and got approval for her damned ''efficiency guidelines!'' ''All experiments will be carried out with the test subject fully active, to reduce iteration time.'' It''s barbaric! I''ve exined this to the Colonel - just because the Eyebots don''t have true AI doesn''t mean they''re just machines!" Whitley let out a heavy, frustrated sounding sigh. "I guess results are all that matter around here. Forget things like ''ethical procedures'' or ''humane treatment.'' I''m starting to have serious misgivings about the leadership around here..." There was a shuffling sound, followed by a soft sort of gruntingugh. "Well... at least I''ve got you to talk to, huh ED-E?"


    There was another click after Whitley stopped speaking, and ED-E slowly started to float away from the poster, near the center of the room. I shook my head, and scratched the back of my neck.


    "Man... I can''t believe they''d approve something like that," I said in as reassuring a voice as I could muster. "I''ve met enough robots in my day to know you guys are more than just machines."


    "They..." ED-E refused to look at me. "They did not understand. Whitley could not... Creator_Whitley could not <em>make</em> them understand..." I smiled, walking over to him and cing a gloved hand on his chassis.


    "He was really protective of you, wasn''t he?" ED-E nodded in midair underneath my palm.


    "Yes. Creator_Whitley was a very caring individual. He did everything in his power to..." ED-E trailed off. "Friend_Courier, there is something about the memory files... I am not..."


    "ED-E?" I asked, hoping he could see my concerned face. He floated away, muttering to himself:


    "...sealed inside the Hopeville silo..." He floated to the other end of the building, a bit unsteadily. I was about to follow him, but Sue spoke up and stopped me:


    "Let him be," she said softly. "I think he needs some time to himself." I sighed, and nodded.


    "Yeah..." I grunted out, turning back to the graffiti on the wall. If thest marker was any indication, then there''d be another one of Ulysses'' logs somewhere around here. And since that storm was probably going to be raging for quite some time, then I was going to need something to do until it was safe to go outside.


    For a rtive measure of ''safe,'' at least.


    I found the holotape after only a few minutes of searching. It was discarded on a shelf between two bunk beds, on the opposite wall from the marker. This one was marked with a .21 after the Y-17.


    "Well..." I grunted, grabbing the half-eaten MRE I''d discarded, and sat on the floor with the holotape in hand. "I suppose I should try and listen to these in order..." I reached into my duster, and pulled out the holotape I''d found earlier - the one marked with a .15 - and plugged it into my Pip Boy.


    "...back again," Ulysses voice issued from my Pip Boy''s speaker. I settled back and started eating while listening to the recording. "Left that crater behind. Got a few holotapes left. Ones from the medical center. The woman. She fixed the recorder. Said it wouldn''tst. Repayment for me... <em>fixing</em> her." He snorted out a curtugh. Or half of one at least. "She doesn''t like debts. Can respect that. Payment enough just to hear someone who believes in the Brotherhood of Steel. Not Elijah. Different view. Same... <em>madness.</em>" He grunted again. "She answered me on their philosophy. Their way of seeing the roads they walk. Dead ends... empty. As if... <em>technology</em> can solve anything..."


    The way he spat out the word technology reminded me of something Dog... or, God, or whatever that Nightkin wanted to call himself... had told me when I was trapped in the Madre: <em>"That''s the easy exnation. The one </em>humans <em>use. Pre-War technology... as if it''s the cause of all ills, mind and body."</em>


    "Big Empty''s proof where <strong>that</strong> road leads..." Ulysses continued. "Just like The Divide... and all the roads that lead to it." The recording clicked off, and I sat there for a few minutes, trying to work through everything I''d heard as I attempted to chew through a rock-hard gran bar.


    "This Ulysses person..." Sue squeaked, barely audible over my crunching. "He doesn''t seem to like technology very much, does he?"


    "No," I shook my head, struggling to swallow what felt like a piece of gecko skull. "No, he doesn''t. I guess thates with the territory though... if I had to guess, I''d say that he''s from Caesar''s Legion." Or <em>was</em>, at least before he took the name ''Ulysses.'' "They don''t like anything more advanced than a machete. They prefer to get their work done with ves."


    "... I don''t like him." Sue said firmly. Iughed grimly, looking over at ED-E; he was still doing the robotic equivalent of pacing at the other end of the building.


    "No arguments here..." I shoved the remainder of the gran bar in my mouth and plugged in the other holotape. It clicked, and Ulysses began speaking again.


    "Emptiness here. Like... like the sands of the Great Salt Lake, echoed. The beating in the Divide sky... like the Storm Drums of the White Legs."


    White Legs. I''d heard that name before. They were a raider n in Utah. Apart from that, though... I knew less than squat. I didn''t know it at the time, but that was about to change.


    "Ran with them on the salt beds, at Csar''smand - cut the throats of the two-headed Bear. Cut allmunities off." So, I was right. He <em>was</em> Legion... at least, once upon a time. "Use storms. Sky. Disease. Fire. Starvation... and the violence of the ignorant to ruin all who could... <em>might</em>... stand against him. But the White Legs... they couldn''t live on their own. Like most scavengers. So... gave them purpose. Turned their hunger into a weapon." Ulysses paused for a moment. "The walls of New Canaan... too high for Csar. Too... proud, maybe. Or maybe..." He paused again. "Maybe something there from his past. Something that needed killing... Memory of Graham."


    I didn''t really understand much of what he was talking about - except New Canaan. That, I''d definitely heard before. A few months back, there''d been call to join a caravanpany (I can''t remember the name. Jolly Trails? Happy Path? Something like that...) that was trying to set up a trade route to New Canaan: a settlement in Utah, somewhere near the ruins of Salt Lake City. It was some kind of religious...munity... thing. Set up by Mormons, I think. I dunno.


    "God" and I were never really on speaking terms, so I decided against joining up with that caravan. Wouldn''t want to upset the locals byughing in their faces. I learned <strong>that</strong> lesson the hard way a long time ago, but... yeah, that''s another story.


    "Helped them dig out Canaan supply caches, and other secrets the sands hid," Ulysses continued while I thought to myself and rummaged through the MRE bag, looking for anything else remotely edible. "Bunkers, filled with powered weapons even the Brotherhood might desire. They called these new weapons ''Storm Drums'' in the firing of shells. Taught them the power in the casings... to channel the spirits into their guns." Ulysses grunted... I couldn''t tell if that was a sound of disgust or exhaustion. "Me? They called me the g-Bearer. Glory in my hand, in the staff that still bore the weight of the Old World... just as the symbol on my back did."


    Another memory shed into my mind, from when I''d listened to his logs in the Big Empty. Christine speaking to him: <em>"So says the man with the Old World g on his back. America... the Commonwealth. Burned away</em>.<em>"</em> I looked up at the g symbol on the wall across from me... and another puzzle piece seemed to fall in myp.


    "I learned their weapons as a means of respect," Ulysses recorded voice kept going. "And when it came their turn to pay respect to me... history came rushing back." He sighed; that was definitely exhaustion.


    "Can''t escape what''s been done." He added, finally. "History will always be there... no matter how far you walk." And with that, the recording clicked off.

 Chapter 124: Tunnels Down Below

    Chapter 124: Tunnels Down Below


    <em>A familiar, intoxicating scent wafted into my nostrils. My eyes cracked open only to be greeted by a view full of raven hair. I smiled at the sensation of soft lips caressing my neck, and smiled even broader when I felt her arms wrap around my waist. I reached out to draw her in closer, pressing my body into hers, and a contented sigh escaped my mouth.</em>


    <em>I didn''t know quite where I was. I didn''t know up from down, left from right, white from ck, or anything in between. None of it mattered. I didn''t care. The woman I loved was in my arms, and we were holding each other close... almost like we would simply float away if we let go.</em>


    <em>"I love you, Tu..." I heard myself say. Her cheek brushed my own. Silky fingertips were snaking their way up from my waist and across my chest, sending electric shivers up my spine. Her hands lightly traced my muscles and up to my neck,ing to rest at my cheeks where she took my face in her hands.</em>


    <em>And then...</em>


    <em>Pain.</em>


    <em>My eyes snapped open, but I couldn''t see anything. A searing, sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my chest. It was instantly hard to breathe, and it felt as though my heart had been split clean in two. My whole body shuddered and shook; I tried to look down, to try and work out what was going on, but no part of my body wanted to cooperate.</em>


    <em>Knife.</em>


    <em>A knife was buried in the center of my chest. Buried all the way up to the hilt. I stared at the hunk of metal lodged in the center of my torso for several seconds, gurgling silently as the back of my throat closed up; my head was shaking, and my vision was starting to cloud over. I finally looked back up just in time to see Tuera... walking away. The raven haired love of my life had her back turned to me and she was walking away.</em>


    <em>"Wh... wh-why?" I coughed out. Blood was beginning to dribble out of the corner of my mouth, and the pain had finally reached my head. It was getting harder to think. She halted in her tracks, and looked at me over her shoulder with a single green eye from beneath her flowing locks.</em>


    <em>"It was a dream, Sheason." She said softly. "We were... nothing more than a dream. I just woke up first." She turned ahead and kept walking away. My head grew heavy, and my sight grew dim. Just before the darkness overtook me, she said one final thing that echoed in my mind:</em>


    <em>"I''m sorry."</em>


    I woke with a start, still sitting against the wall of the Quonset hut. I was breathing heavily, and my skin was bathed in sweat. Roscoe was in my hand, and the arm holding the pistol was straight as a board, aiming at nothing. I think I may have screamed. Had I screamed?


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E bobbed in the air just above me. "I shall ask you again: are you alright? Do you require assistance?"


    I didn''t answer for quite a while. I felt paralyzed in shock as I sat there wide eyed, gun pointed at nothing, and my breathing heavy as a deuce-and-a-half. I eventually managed to calm myself down, and focus on what ED-E had said... but my head was pounding from a splitting headache, and I couldn''t think straight.


    "Sheason," Sue spoke up from my chest. "Your heart is hovering around 150 beats per minute, and my cardiac dampeners are unable topensate. Would you like me to administer some anxiety medication?"


    "Uh... no... no, I''m... I''m fine..." I set Roscoe against the ground, and clutched my forehead. I focused entirely on steadying my breathing, getting things back to normal. "I just... just some bad dreams. Just a nightmare, that''s all."


    Where the fuck had <em>that </eme from? I hadn''t had that dream in... <em>years</em>. It took a few minutes of conscious effort to get my breathing back to normal, and for the pounding in my chest to stop... but that sharp pain from the nightmare was still there.


    <em>"History will always be there..." </em>Ulysses words rattled around in my mind. <em>"No matter how far you walk."</em>


    "Ugh..." I buried my face in my hands. "Probably just indigestion. I bet you any money it was just that 200 year old MRE disagreeing with me..." Iughed grimly and shook my head. "How long was I out?"


    "Slightly less than two hours," ED-E buzzed overhead. "The sandstorm appears to have passed. I believe it is safe to venture outside once again."


    "Good," I pushed up off the ground, and grabbed my discarded helmet, snapping it back in ce. "We should... yeah. Let''s get moving, while we still have a bit of daylight left." I need to clear my head. Focus. Compartmentalize. What I <em>really</em> needed was a distraction. And it''s been proven many a time that there''s no better distraction than mindless violence. SO!


    Let''s go huntin''.


    "C''mon, meatsack!" I yelled out, dodging a wide swing from an enormous sword. It looked like it''d been made from a cars bumper. "I''m right here! Come and get me!" The Marked Man attacking me said nothing. He just stared at me from within a full-face helmet welded together with scrap metal and swung again. I sidestepped out of the way, and before he knew what was happening, I was right in his face and had my cybeic hand grasped firmly underneath his chin. I kicked him in the center of his chest - and his whole lower jaw came free. The rest of him practically flew backward into a piece of ruined concrete highway. The gigantic metal sword flew out of his hands and ttered to the ground at my feet.


    "Is that the best you got, skinjob?" I asked with augh, kicking the sword into the air and catching it with my cybeic hand. He pushed off against the concrete rubble, trying to get back on his feet, but by then the sword was already flying through the air. It only stopped when it was through the middle of his chest and he was pinned to the wall.


    "Stick around." I said with a smug look under my helmet that nobody could see.


    "That was terrible." Sue groaned. I just shrugged.


    "Maybe so. I thought it was funny..." To be honest, I was both proud and ashamed of that one. I looked around at what was left of this small Marked Man camp. Bodies, weapons, and spent ammo casings were strewn everywhere as the wind howled overhead. There had only been about six of them here, so it hadn''t been that difficult...


    The Marked Men were tough, sure. But they weren''t invincible, and I''d picked up quite a few tricks in thest few weeks for dealing with bad guys who didn''t die when they were supposed to. The best bet when you start out? Aim for the head, like you''re in an Old World zombie movie. And, if that doesn''t work, go for what I''ve dubbed "The Ghost People Method" of hacking their limbs off. Or blowing them up with explosives.


    So far, it seemed to be working. Rifle bullets to the chest had been fairly useless against the Marked Men, but rifle bullets to the <em>head</em> worked quite well. And, more than that, they couldn''t attack you if they had no arms. Or couldn''t move, like the poor unfortunate pinned to the wall with his own sword.


    I knelt down and grabbed one of the discarded weapons lying on the street: a re gun. That was the thing that I really didn''t get. The Marked Men here had been using squad tactics. nking maneuvers, proper use of cover, trying to flush me out with grenades when they thought they spotted me. They acted like professional soldiers (which, obviously, made them very predictable)... but for some reason, whenever they thought they were under attack, they seemed to start the fight by firing signal res. Not up in the air, like you''d think, but down in the direction of whoever they thought was attacking. They''d done it in the fortress before the sandstorm earlier, and they''d done it again here at this small outpost.


    A sound off to my left derailed my train of thought. The Marked Man pinned to the wall was slowly trying to pull himself free, by shoving his impaled chest up the length of the sword still lodged in the concrete. I reached down and pulled my double barrel off my hip, and aimed the sawed off directly into his face.


    "Shut up, daddy''s thinking." There was a boom from both barrels, and he was suddenly without a face. The Marked Man went limp like a ragdoll, and I shoved the sawed off back in its holster. "Alright, ED-E? You''ve been watching this whole thing up from on high. Thoughts?"


    "Well," ED-E buzzed down from his vantage point high above us. "It would seem that the hostiles have set up this camp to provide additional fortification for this barricade." He zoomed over to my right, and hovered over arge wall made up of old cars, scrap metal, and at least one of those warheads I''d seen. It seemed to be blocking the entrance to an old tunnel.


    "A barricade, huh? I guess this means they don''t want people going this way." As I spoke, I pulled theser detonator out of my duster.


    "It would certainly seem so, yes," ED-E said, buzzing through the air and settling into a spot right behind me. He <strong>definitely</strong> knew what wasing next.


    "That seems like a good sign to me! Now, we <em>could </em>spend two or three hours trying to climb over the barricade, wasting all that we have left of the day. OR..." I pointed theser detonator at the warhead wedged into the middle of the wall. Five secondster, the entire barricade was consumed in me, buffeting me with an enormous gust of wind. My Geiger counter spiked rapidly, and then slowly faded away. The whole wall seemed to vaporize - except for the cars on the top, which were thrown to the side, howling with the remnants of their car rms as they were turned into meteors of smoking, molten g. "... we could just do that."


    "That..." ED-E wobbled a bit in the air, transfixed by the ming carnage. "That was impressive..."


    "That was <strong>awesome!</strong>" Sue corrected. Note to self: whenever Sue gets annoyed at me for making a bad pun, blow something up. That should fix the problem.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E followed close behind as I made my way to the now cleared tunnel entrance. "Are you adding the re gun to your collection of firearms?" I looked down, and realized I still had the re gun in my left hand. I shrugged, and shoved it in my duster, looking around to see if there were any spare res for it lying around.


    "Yeah, why not? I figure, when we run into more Marked Men, I might be able to lob some res back at them. Might confuse them enough to create an opening." It''s sure been confusing the hell out of me...


    As I made my way up the uneven rubble leading to the half-moon tunnel entrance, I saw some more graffiti on the rubble ahead. A white g marking... and next to it, was what appeared to be simple instructions:


    STAY OUT


    BELOW IS DEATH


    That seems ominous.


    "That seems promising!" I heard Sue say, to which she quickly added: "The white g markers mean we''re going the right way, right?"


    "Do they?" ED-E asked, hovering by my chest. "It is possible the marks left by Enemy_Courier do not <em>actually </em>mean anything. His im of a pattern could be a bluff."


    "No," I said, finally getting close to the graffiti. "I don''t think that was a lie. I saw these same kind of symbols in the Big Empty. The red ones mean danger, definitely. The blue ones... I think those are meant to mark... like, supply caches. Ammo dumps. Valuables, maybe? And the white ones..." I brushed a hand against the white paint. "Maybe they mean I''m going the right way?" I wasn''t so sure. The first time I''d seen the white marker was at the weather station, shortly before getting my arm cut off. The other white markers here in The Divide seemed to be pointing me in the right direction...


    "Or maybe they''re just pointing me the way <em>Ulysses </em>wants me to go..." I cast a gaze down into the tunnel. That sinking feeling took hold in the pit of my stomach again.


    It sure did look dark down there.


    The deeper we descended into the ruined, copsed tunnel, the quieter everything became. The howling wind from outside got softer and softer the further along we went, until suddenly I couldn''t hear it at all. And no wonder - among the rubble high overhead and all around us, I could seerge ruined buildings mixed in with the chunks of highway. Skyscrapers that had tipped onto their side, copsing against one another and intruding into the underground. It would''ve made for an impressive sight if it hadn''t been so unsettling.


    The strangest thing (at first) was that I didn''t need to use nightvision to see down here. There was some kind of bioluminescent cave fungus growing in the corners and out of the cracks in the rubble. It wasn''t daylight by any means, but the mushrooms and moss radiated a soft blueish-green glow that made it just bright enough to see. Almost.


    "I am getting a bad feeling about this..." ED-E buzzed along overhead. Because of how the buildings had copsed, there was lots of room overhead... but not so much space where I was trying to walk. Angr outcroppings of rock and concrete smashed into ruined cars and trucks, creating sheer vertical surfaces barely wide enough to squeeze through.


    "Yeah... me -" I grunted, trying to squeeze through. "-me too," I let out a sigh when I finally broke free of the tight crevasse. Thankfully, it looked like things got a little wider from -


    A roar echoed out from somewhere in the darkness. I shrugged my shoulder and grabbed hold of the G36. There weren''t many of those glowing mushrooms around this wide open space down here, so I could barely see. Cautiously, I reached down and pressed the button to activate Sue''s cloaking. An electric crackle from above me let me know ED-E had followed my lead.


    Another guttural roar echoed through the cavern. The acoustics of this ce were all fucked up - I couldn''t tell where the sound wasing from. I started slowly creeping forward, transparent rifle at the ready in my see-through hands.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice came in with a soft crackle through my helmet''s speaker. "Movement. Your 2 O'' Clock."


    I crouched down low and looked over to my right, quick as I could. I didn''t see anyth- wait, no! There! A faint silhouette moving quickly among the rubble at the far end of this t patch. It was dark and cast in shadow, but even from this distance, the outline of the hulking figure with a row of spines on its back and a massive swinging tail was unmistakable:


    Deathw.


    My blood ran ice cold, and I froze. I didn''t have anywhere near the kind of firepower required to take one of those on... and if memory served, Stripe could see me even with Sue''s camo active. An adult deathw would have no...


    The shadow of the deathw kept moving, and disappeared into the darkness away from me. It howled again, the sound echoing off of every surface in the cave.


    "... h-uh." I muttered under my breath. "That is damn peculiar." I was confused. What just happened?


    There was another roar, somewhere else in the cavern... and the more I heard it, the more I realized that it did <strong>not </strong>sound like a normal deathw. It didn''t sound angry. It didn''t sound hungry. It almost sounded like it was in... <em>pain</em>? No. No, that wasn''t possible.


    Was it?


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E whispered softly as I finally started to move. "What are you doing?"


    "Something''s wrong," I said, switching my eyes to nightvision, and carefully making my way forward. "I''m gonna check it out..." Even as I said it, the words felt wrong. And then things got even stranger. When I caught up to where the deathw had been running, I came across a trail of shiny, viscous fluid coating the ground. Even bathed in green, I could tell that it was blood.


    There was a horrendous, blood curdling howl from somewhere up ahead. But then... there was another sound that didn''t make sense: a soft ttering, chittering sound, almost like... insect chitin rubbing against each other? Were there giant ants or radscorpions down here, too? There was too much debris everywhere, and I couldn''t quite figure out where the sound wasing from. But it was probably a good bet that if I followed the path of blood, it would lead me to the deathw.


    Instead, it led to a wrecked shipping crate sticking at an odd angle out of the ground. I kept my breathing shallow and silent when I took cover at the edge of the metal crate. The trail of blood on the ground led inside... and that chittering was much louder now. I couldn''t hear any more growls, but I <em>did </em>hear the sounds of gnashing teeth and tearing flesh. And worryingly, it sounded like more than one mouth doing the gnashing.


    Cautiously, I peered my head around the edge and inside: there was a rush of movement, and I just barely managed to make out several pinpoints of light. In an instant, they all seemed to simply vanish into the darkness. All that was left when the points of lights disappeared were the faintest whispers of ttering chitin echoing in the empty darkness.


    Well, <strong>that</strong> managed to loosen my bowels a bit.


    Alright numb-nuts. Stay focused. I rounded the cornerpletely, invisible hands still clutching an invisible rifle ready to fire. In the center of a pile of refuse in the crate was the lifeless hulking mass of the deathw. But there was nothing else. I knelt down to get a closer look, the whole area awash with the green haze of my cybeic eyes nightvision, and saw that the deathw''s body was <em>covered</em> in thousands ofcerations. w marks of various shapes and sizes criss-crossed each other over every inch of the scaly skin - several of the deeper ones were still pouring blood. Chunks of its flesh had been ripped and torn away, leaving uneven gashes all over its chest and limbs.


    This wasn''t the work of a radscorpion, or giant ants, or any other creatures I''d ever encountered in the wastnd. This was... this was something <em>else</em>. Something I''d never seen before. But the kicker? The thing that really made this whole experience surreal?


    The deathw had no <strong>head</strong>.


    "I think I have found something of interest." I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard ED-E''s voice in my ear.


    "Right..." I said, stepping backwards away from the grisly and unsettling sight, and looked around to try and find ED-E. He was no longer invisible, and was floating above a curved hunk of metal wedged between two angled pieces of concrete. I was trying to remain calm as I made my way over to the floating metal sphere, but I couldn''t quite seem to manage it. Every tiny noise of boots brushing against gravel under my feet seemed amplified...


    "Alright, what have you found?" I whispered, trying to make as little sound as possible. ED-E buzzed down into view, and I took another look at the curved hunk of metal before me. It took a second, but my mind finally made the connection - and I momentarily forgot my fear, balking at the sheer absurdity of the image presented before me. Looking at it up close like this, the profile was unmistakable - even turned upside down and on its side. But the sight was just so ridiculous that I <strong>had</strong> to ask:


    "What the - what <em>is</em> that?" I said aloud, forgetting to whisper.


    "I believe that is a tugboat, Friend_Courier," ED-E answered simply.


    "A tugboat," I repeated tly.


    "Yes," ED-E agreed.


    "A... a boat. <strong>Here</strong>." I paused, staring at the upside-down seafaring vessel, stranded underground amidst piles of rubble. "What? Wait... <em>what</em>?! How did it <strong>get</strong> here? We''re in the desert! Miles from the ocean!"


    "Approximately 220 miles from the point of origin, if the faded markings on the hull are any indication." ED-E noted. I waved a hand at it while nodding, a feeble and bewildered expression on my face underneath my helmet.


    "Exactly! What''s it even <strong>doing </strong>here?!"


    "That, I do not know," ED-E proimed. "But that was not the something of interest I wished to bring to your attention." He floated down, to a spot right <em>next </em>to the inexplicable tugboat: a collection of mutted, withered corpses and military equipment.


    Ah, yes. There was the focus that I needed, brought to us by that lovely emotion, fear. I crouched down low to get a closer look. The bodies were practically skeletons. Thest vestiges of skin and hair held the bodies together... at least, the body <em>parts </em>that weren''t torn apart or missing. The uniforms they were wearing were easily identifiable, however, even torn up as they were.


    "NCR," I whispered, peering over one of the most intact bodies. "Rangers, by the look of things. Been dead a long time." I reached for the neck of the most intact one, to try and see if I could grab hold of the dog tags... and instead, a folded piece of paper fell out of the folds of the armor. I clicked the button on my belt, returning to visibility so I could grab hold of it and actually read the words. I unfolded the square, and scanned the page:


    <em>1st toon, Cazador Company, 4th Battalion Rangers</em>


    <em>Bravo Team Mission Orders</em>


    <em>At 0600 hours, Bravo Team will conduct sweep-and-clear operations in advance of the main force. Early intelligence suggests the tunnels are only sparsely popted by small, subterranean semi-humanoids, which are easily cowed by bright light and loud noises. Bravo team has been issued several M84 stun grenades for this purpose, and is expected to meet minimal resistance.</em>


    Off in the distance, I heard a sound - something scraping against rock. I dropped the paper, clicked the camo back on, and gripped the rifle tighter, looking around. Part of me wanted to believe it was just debris shifting... a natural sound you''d hear in the underground, and not the first sign of impending doom.


    A soft clicking echoed from some unseen corner, and I knew instantly that I was being watched.


    "We should leave," ED-E said; although the voice came through the speaker next to my ear, I could see him already floating up, far out of reach. "I am registering movement, but there is..." He paused. "The signal is odd. The... it is.. fading in and out..."


    "Where?" I hissed. "Where is iting from?"


    "11 O'' Clock... no, wait, 4 O'' Clock... I - I mean 9 O'' Clock... 6 O'' Clock..." At that point, he gave up, and just said: "I am detecting movement in every direction, closing fast. Multiple signatures."


    I was already moving at that point. Even with the nightvision, it was hard to navigate down here... and even though I could <em>hear </em>the sounds all around me - the chittering chitin, ws and talons scraping against rock, that clicking that I finally recognized as <em>teeth</em> snapping together in alien jaws - I couldn''t <em>see</em> any of them.


    A thought struck me, and I quickly switched from nightvision to that false-color infrared thermal vision. I looked around and saw nothing. No heat signatures. Everything around me was washed in various shades of blue - only the heat from my own body, the footprints I was leaving behind on the rocky uneven surface, and ED-E flying above me were showing up. Were they keeping their distance? Or did they just not show up on infrared <em>at all</em>?


    I quickly switched back to nightvision, and got my answer: they just didn''t show up on infrared.


    All around me, in the various darkened corners of the copsed tunnel, I could see pinpricks of light burning in the darkness. It was the kind of bright glow that only ever happens when you look at <em>eyes</em> with nightvision. There were just... there were <em>so many</em> of them! So many sets of eyes!


    "Friend_Courier, this way!" ED-E said, zooming along overhead. "I think the exit is this way!"


    I tried to run, but it was impossible. The terrain was too uneven, and up ahead it was bing far too steeply banked. I was going to have to practically climb up that - but if it led up and out onto the surface, then I was all for it. So I moved as quickly as I could, scrambling over and onto everything that was in my way, in a desperate attempt to escape.


    Ahead of me, the ground split open, and I halted in my tracks. The ground wasn''t technically ground, but <em>solid concrete</em>, and it was being ripped apart from underneath like tissue paper. Chunks of gravel practically disintegrated or flew in every direction, and I finally got the first look at my attackers.


    The ws were first: wide palms, with tworge talons on the end, and two smaller thumb-like ws on either side. They grabbed hold of either side of the hole, and the rest of it emerged, practically slithering up like a snake. An angr, alien head sat atop a body that was humanoid only in the sense that it had two arms and legs... but the back legs had an animal bend to them, like the hind legs of a dog or a deathw. A tail was thest thing to emerge from the hole, swishing back and forth like a pendulum. Six glowing eyes stared at me, three on either side of its diamond wedge like head. Its arms, legs, back, and tail were covered in both scales and thousands of spikes; each one of the spikes ended in glowing points that looked just like the eyes.


    It crouched down low on all fours over the hole when it saw me, opened its jaws... and then opened them <em>again</em>, revealing a lower jaw split down the middle, filled with row after row of teeth like a shark.


    "Look out!" ED-E yelled, firing off aser from overhead as the beast screeched and leapt at me. I ducked, letting go of the G36 with my cybeic hand, and swinging in a wild arc above me. I felt a thump against the top of my fist... and didn''t bother to check on the result. Because <em>another</em> one of these things wasing out of the hole.


    "Fuck!" I shouted practically on reflex, trying to run again. Another few inches, and it would''ve taken my head off - and I was still technically cloaked. Great. I grabbed hold of the rifle as I tried to leap from rock to rock, and aimed back at them. The end of the rifle shed several times, the bark of the G36 illuminating the cavern for a few brief, precious seconds.


    They didn''t roar. They <em>screeched</em>. An awful, nails-on-the-chalkboard sound, made worse by the constant ttering all around me. I didn''t know if I''d hit any of them... but they definitely didn''t like... the... muzzle...


    <em>...cowed by bright light and loud noises...</em>


    That''s what the re guns were for, I finally realized. Why the lights in the Marked Men fortress were pointed down at the street, and why they all seemed to stay on the upper level. They were prepared for an attack from these... these <em>tunnelers</em> down below. And if they could burst up through solid concrete, then that meant they could emerge out of those holes from <em>anywhere</em> connected to solid earth!


    "Shit!" I hissed through gritted teeth, refusing to slow for a second. I let off another burst from the G36, and it finally clicked dry. I had more ammo for it <em>on</em> me, but I hadn''t thought to reload beforeing down here! I looked over my shoulder just in time to see another of those holes appear, and more of the bastards spill out. And then another hole. And then <em>another</em>. Dozens of them were clinging to the walls and ceiling, too, scuttling along behind me like insects.


    I was about to reach into my duster for the re gun - having finally discerned its purpose - when ED-E spoke up again.


    "Friend_Courier! The Red re!"


    "What?!" I yelled back, not understanding what he was getting at. I was too focused on trying to escape to understand.


    "The projectiles are thermobaric explosives!" ED-E continued, flying backwards just above my head. "They are almost 100% fuel, and ignite the surrounding air! The reaction creates a sustained high-pressure shockwave and an explosion that will consume the avable oxygen in <strong>any confined space</strong>!"


    And here I thought I had the monopoly on risky, potentially suicidal, stupid ideas.


    I momentarily stopped climbing, and spun to face the oing horde behind me. The way the staggering number of them were crawling over every surface to get to me, it was like I was looking at a swarm of wingless locusts, only growling and snarling and gnashing their teeth. I shrugged my shoulder, and grabbed the foregrip trigger on the Red re with my cybeic hand, hoping that I''d be able to fire it one-handed like the anti-materiel rifle the other day. I wasn''t going topletely let go of the G36, and I didn''t have time to shoulder it properly. The approaching tunnelers were following me, but for some reason they weren''t rushing me - in fact, they seemed a bit cautious. Maybe the muzzle shes from the G36 had been enough to unsettle them. With any luck, this would finish the job.


    I aimed into the center of the horde as best I could, the back of theuncher resting on my shoulder perilously close to my head, and fired.


    The rockets streaked through the air, practically blinding me. One after another, the screaming projectiles flew at the tunnelers... and then flew past them. Within seconds however, it didn''t matter. The explosions ripped through the rubble all around, and shockwave after shockwave cascaded through everything. Even as far away from the epicenter as I was, I could feel the force buffeting me. The small explosions from the individual rockets seem to coalesce and merge into one much, <em>much</em>, <em><strong>much </strong></emrger explosion.


    I turned and tried to run for the exit as fast as I could. I could hear the fire turning into a raging inferno, swirling behind me in a huge sucking backdraft. The tunnelers were screaming and screeching. At least it was light enough from the explosions that I didn''t need nightvision anymore. I kept going forward, wing at every avable handhold, hoping I was faster than the rapidly expanding inferno behind me, when I finally saw my salvation: a literal light at the end of the tunnel.


    I redoubled my efforts, until the sounds of screeching and fire were met with the howl of dust storm winds. The light at the end of the tunnel got wider and brighter, and the wind got louder. And still I kept going.


    The rubble finally gave way to (rtively) smoother tarmac, and I realized that I was finally out of that underground hell. Ahead of me, I could see the sun burning through the clouds, shining at just the right angle to be both a wee relief from the darkened, tunneler infested underground and an annoyance at how <em>fucking bright</em> it was! Damnit!


    As I climbed out of the underground and onto what appeared to be some kind of freeway, I cast onest nce behind me. The fire was still raging, but was no longer the all-consuming inferno that it was moments earlier... and down, in the darkened corners, I could see eyes staring back at me. They didn''t follow me to the surface... for now. But if what I feared was true, thene nightfall... no ce on the ground would be safe.


    I looked back at the sun, angled at just the right way to st right into my face whenever I wanted to look out of the tunnel. It was almost dusk. Thest rays of sun always seem to burn the hottest and the brightest right before dipping below the horizon... and the day was just about done.


    "C''mon, ED-E," I said, shouldering the Red re and taking the time to reload my rifle. "We''ve got to find some shelter above ground before nightfall..."


    Silence.


    "... ED-E?" I said, slowly turning to the eyebot. He was still as a statue, hovering in ce and staring at me. Oh, <em>fuck</em>.


    "There you are..." Ulysses'' voice boomed out of ED-E''s speaker.

 Chapter 125: The High Road

    Chapter 125: The High Road


    "There you are..." Ulysses'' voice boomed out of ED-E''s speaker. "You went quiet for a time. Then that signal came in strong from your machine. Like a heartbeat." Ulysses snorted. "You and your <em>machine</em> you survived. There''s a lesson here, in the Divide."


    "Yeah" I sighed, continuing to move away from the copsed tunnel exit and reloading my G36 as I walked. "I survived. What, are you surprised or something?" ED-E followed me as I walked. Ulysses didn''t answer my question, but kept talking like I hadn''t said anything.


    "Made your way through Old World towns and the tunnels that join them. Now? The High Road. For all you''ve seen behind you, there''s worse along this stretch. Deathws hunt the Marked Men and what burrows <em>below</em>."


    "Those creatures in the underpass," I stated, casting another nce over my shoulder. I was far enough away from the exit now that I couldn''t see any details in the darkness below. But I swear that I could still hear some faint clicking and growling echoing from deep within the underground, made by monsters just waiting for the sun to set.


    "Tunnelers," Ulysses confirmed. "Predators that make their own roads beneath the ground here. Divide broke their sky. Showed them the world above  and the scent of new prey," He paused, but I kept walking; the mind-controlled ED-E followed close behind. "Be a slower death for the Mojave than bombs and fire but they''lle for its people, from where they least expect. Below."


    I came to a dead stop.


    "Wait," I said, slowly turning to face ED-E. "Slower death for You mean" I gulped, a horrifying image filling my brain. "The tunnelers are spreading out from the Divide, aren''t they?" Ulysses grunted out an affirmative ''Hurm.''


    "In the Divide, need to watch the sky and ground Mojave''ll be easy prey for them. They''ll start emerging outside The Divide in time. Might be years. Probably less. They breed fast. Hunt in groups. More than enough to bring down the strongest. Once they draw blood" Ulysses grumbled again; a sort of pseudo-sigh.


    "But" I was at a loss for words. "Is there any way to I mean, if they''re really spreading, then" I thought about Goodsprings and Primm, already pretty close to The Divide anyway. The people there could barely hold off attacks from run-of-the-mill idiot raiders! If the tunnelers came for them, everyone there would be ripped to shreds in a single night! "People need to be warned!"


    "You could try," Ulysses countered, apparently unimpressed. "Tunnelers have weaknesses, just like everything else. Noise. Fire. sh bangs. People in the Mojave could be armed. Taught to fight them. Prepared for it but would they <em>believe</em> you?" Ulysses chuckled grimly, and I tried topose myself. He may have been saying that simply to mock me, but just you wait. I promised myself right then and there that once I left the Divide, I''d make <strong>damn sure</strong> people were ready. Count on it.


    "People" He continued. "They don''t pay attention to danger until it''s far, far toote. And tunnelers they''re danger like few understand. Seen them tear apart deathws. The deathw might kill some, but the rest will swarm it. Tear it apart, like like Denver hounds." Right, time to change the subject. I''m not going to get anywhere if I keep focusing on the tunnelers and that dead deathw and yeah. Focus, moron. I cleared my throat.


    "Denver, huh? That mean you''ve been to Dog Town, all the way in Legion territory?" I asked, finally urging my feet to move again. I already knew the answer, having listened to some of his logs, but I wanted to hear it from the man himself.


    "Mojave and Divide aren''t the only roads I''ve walked. Walked the East, too. Before the Bull came. Back then much like the Mojave before the Bear tribes, towns, clutching to life. Bull did a better job."


    "That''s up for debate," I muttered under my breath. "You know those Marked Men I fought in Hopeville. Some of them looked like NCR, but they fought beside others wearing Legion gear" Ulysses grunted, ED-E floating a little ahead of me now.


    "Pain makes for strange allies." He said simply. "The hate that the Bear and Bull shared across the battlefield reshaped by sand and invisible fire. Now, turned against the Divide. Few survived" He paused, searching for the word. " <em>intact</em>. Murder and blood is all that remain. They fight invaders monsters in the shadows and they tear at each other. For <em>sport</em>. " Ulysses grumbled something I couldn''t quite hear, and then continued. "Many NCR were already here when the destruction happened. Keeping the route East open, in fear of Csar. Fear of the Legion."


    "Wait, why would this ce be important to the Legion?" Apart from there being NCR soldiers here, at least. But really did those crimson fuckers <strong>need</strong> any other reason?


    "The why of it. Hoover Dam. The Bear  NCR  couldn''t be allowed to reach it easily. Long 15, New Canaan both bad enough. Kimball, Csar, House you''d think their whole world was that damned Wall, cutting the Colorado." It sounded a bit like he spat something away from whatever he was using as a microphone, and the next part <strong>definitely</strong> didn''t sound like it was meant for me:


    "If I''d neverid eyes on it never spoke of it" My eyes went wide. ''Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice,'' I thought to myself. If that was true, then he must''ve been one of the first Legion scouts. Maybe <em>the</em> first. It would certainly fit his M.O. He cleared his throat, and began again.


    "The past can''t be changed. Once found, that Wall was all Csar could see and the g beyond it, a symbol big enough to challenge him. And The Divide. One of the roads to the Mojave  Legion was tasked with cutting that artery." Ulysses let out another growl. "If you can''t kill the Bear in one stroke, bleed it. Starve it. That kind of murder it''s what <strong>any</strong> of the Legion would have done. And now The Divide belongs to History."


    "Y''know, speaking of history," I said. "I found a few of those holotapes of yours." For a very long while, Ulysses didn''t speak. ED-E stopped moving. It took a few seconds for me to realize that he wasn''t following, and when I finally got back to the eyebot, Ulysses spoke up.


    "Didn''t think those would be found" He snorted. "You know the Divide better than I thought." He cleared his throat once more. "Had tech from the Big Empty. Recorder a woman gave me didn''t survive the road. Cast it and the tapes aside weren''t worth the words anyway." He snorted out augh. "Not like I''d forget what happened. If you heard them nothing but ramblings. Reminders for a man who doesn''t need them." I was unconvinced.


    "I don''t believe you," I said aloud, shaking my head. "You wouldn''t have recorded those messages if they didn''t matter." Ulysses grunted.


    "Maybe. Maybe not. Who''s to say. You, perhaps," Ulysses said tly. If those were supposed to be questions, I couldn''t tell. He didn''t put any inflection in the words. "Found them, heard them after I cast them aside maybe there was a purpose in that. If they matter if <strong>History</strong> matters we''ll see at the end of your road." I shook my head. Talking to this guy was frustration incarnate. I looked back out at the highway stretching before me  the "High Road," I think he called it.


    "Where does this lead?" I asked, motioning with my head at the ruined highway.


    "At the end of the High Road lies Ashton. And the silo there That <em>machine</em> with you. It can open it. Wake it up, like it did the one in Hopeville."


    "Why do you hate ED-E so much?" I asked, leaning in close to the speaker grill. The hacked eyebot backed away from me. "I can hear that hate in your voice Hell, I can practically taste it."


    "Hate?" Ulysses growled out, unaware that he sounded angrier than before. "No. There''s nothing to hate in metal. Steel. Gold. Or" He snorted out augh. "Or <em>tinum</em> Your <em>machine</em>? It''s just a tool. Made of wreckage from the Divide. Pieced together from scraps. Built without understanding by all that was brought here"


    Okay, time to change the subject. ED-E had already been freaking out earlier about that ''locked in the Hopeville silo''ment, and this was sure to make that even worse.


    "When we first spoke in Hopeville," I said, thinking quickly. "You mentioned that you''d sworn not to kill me. Why? You never exined " Ulysses cut me off.


    "You <strong>know</strong> the why of it." I really didn''t, so I just shut up and let him talk. "If you don''t  <strong>I</strong> do. And that''s enough. Shows trust only walks so far West. Earned more than that, though, getting this far. We walk the same road. Carry the same colors. Can''t break that by making the road red. Want more than that walk the Divide. Answers''lle, closer you and your <em>machine </em>get to your home."


    That was definitely not coincidence. He keeps making references to my home What does he mean by that?


    "I''ve never been here before," I said simply. Ulysses grumbled.


    "Many in the Mojave think the Divide''s nothing but canyons and storm. Wasn''t always. There was life. A town, farther West not an Old World town, like Hopeville. More recent. Something <strong>you</strong> saw. It had the name ''The Divide,'' too. But rather than cracks in the earth, it was a road from the West into the Mojave. A supply line. Took a <em>Courier</em> to make that road. <strong>You</strong>. Back then, you saw the road with eyes facing East. This time the Divide''s in the other direction. And if your eyes try to make sense of it when you reach it home''s not what it was."


    "You keep saying that word, ''home,'' as if you know where I was born. Trust me  you <strong>don''t</strong>." This was getting insane. He was talking about things I''d done  or, at the very least, iming that I''d done things  that I definitely don''t remember doing. I don''t remember any jobs that led me to a town called "The Divide," like he''s iming Although, that said, I''ve had so many jobs in the past that I can''t really be expected to remember them all.


    "Home isn''t where you''re born into this world," Ulysses said, a bit more forcefully now. "You taught me that. Part of your message, whether you meant it or not. Can be a ce of mind. A moment, where you know who you are. The History of it. And they can be ces you breathe life into. Never would have known The Divide had it not been for you. The road you made with your tracks, again and again. You were the only one willing to make the journey to and from here a hard road. Kept thend before The Divide alive through seasons, storms can''t have been just a job. Was something more to you. Don''t feel for a ce that hard unless it''s Home."


    "You know, I''ve been to a lot of ces in my day. Walked a lot of hard roads. Done a lot of jobs. Dropped off lots of packages. And I can tell you right now doesn''t mean a damn thing." Except maybe that I needed the money, I thought to myself. Ulysses snorted.


    "No it means <strong>everything</strong>!<strong>" </strong>He spat out the words like venom, marinated in gravel. "Even if you deny it, cast it aside that speaks to what you are. Proves what happened here. It was <strong>you</strong> walking the road that kept The Divide alive. It grew from what <strong>you</strong> did. Settlers camps filling that Old World city, and turning it into something new. Chance for a new nation. New beginning. New way of thinking. Could''ve breathed new life into the Mojave, bridging East and West like Hoover Dam, but <strong>not </strong>Old World. Something <strong>you </strong>made." I backed up a little, surprised at the sudden passion in his words.


    "You''re still making assumptions about all this" I said, regaining my fortitude and standing my ground. Ulysses sighed again.


    "No. Recounting History. NCR saw the worth in the road you made. Staked a im, whether it was wanted there or not. True elsewhere in the Mojave. And where the Bear tries to cling to life, the Legiones bearing messages. Some brought by de others by <em>Couriers</em>. You knew what wasing, as sure as I know what''sing for <strong>you</strong>." ED-E moved forward, positioning himself so that the only way I could look at him was backlit by the sun. I tried to block the re with my hand, but it was practically blinding. "This time, you carry the burden. Walk West into the sun, and keep walking until it dies. There  I''ll be waiting."


    The High Road certainly lived up to the name.


    I found myself on a stretch of surprisingly intact highway, mounted on pirs that seemed to grow out of the swirling sand below. All around me were the skeletal metal and stone frames of buildings  none of which were poking out of the ground at quite the correct angle. Ahead of me, I could see other sections of ruined freeways, looping in, over, and around each other.


    In a way, it kind of reminded me of The Interchange, right in the middle of the Boneyard. Maybe the Spaghetti Bowl, between New Reno and the Fortress Nugget. Both of those weremunities built into the shadows of freeway intersections. Almost like the 188, but bigger. Actual towns. I don''t know what it is, but for some reason people nowadays who don''t have cars always seem to gravitate to the ruins of freeways to build shelters and shanty towns.


    It was the same with this ce, I could tell  even from this distance, I could just make out the telltale signs of shelters. Only here, the locals were bound to be Marked Men.


    Oh, good.


    "ED-E, are you sure that''s a good idea?" I whispered, crouching down low behind a Jersey barrier. I was making my way down the freeway with Sue''s camo engaged, and ED-E was floating right beside me but he was <em>not </em>invisible. "I mean what if you''re seen by some of the Marked Men?"


    "Do not worry, Friend_Courier," ED-E responded through the speaker near my ear. "If I am spotted, they will likely assume I am one of the eyebots we have seen flying around the area."


    It was certainly true enough that we''d seen several eyebots here. I poked my head over the concrete wall, and caught a glimpse of two more of the metal spheres, buzzing around a nearby building. But


    "Okay, yeah  so what''ll you do if the Marked Men use those eyebots for <em>target practice</em>, huh?"


    "I said, do not worry, Friend_Courier," ED-E replied tly. "I am fully capable of defending myself, should the need arise." There was a click in my ear, followed by silence as ED-E buzzed forward to a pair of buildings about half a mile down the freeway. The building on the right was standing (mostly) upright; the other was leaning across the freeway, several of the top floors having crashed into the first one.


    "I''m starting to get worried about ED-E" Sue whispered, beating me to the punch. I nodded, moving forward.


    "Yeah he seems pretty rattled." I crept closer to the two buildings ED-E was orbiting. "I probably would be too, if I were in his shoes." I caught a glimpse of some movement: up in one of the top floor windows of the upright building. It was almost it was a humanoid shape, but it didn''t look like one of the Marked Men. Maybe. I didn''t get a good enough look to be sure. I shook it off, and kept moving forward.


    "ED-E doesn''t have shoes," Sue responded, and then added quickly: "But yes, I think I understand. He is bothered by the implications of some of Ulysses'' words. That ED-E is actually a copy of the original, correct?" I nodded.


    "Yeah that seems to be the case." Sue was quiet for some time. The closer I got (and the more I stared at the now empty window), the more I wondered: had I just imagined it?


    "Do you think he''s telling the truth?" She finally asked, a bit hesitantly. Now, it was my turn to be quiet. The wind and sand howled around me, pelting me with grit.


    "I don''t think it matters," I said eventually. Before I got a chance to borate on what I meant, there was a click in my ear and ED-E spoke to me again.


    "Friend_Courier. I think you need to see this."


    Tik. Tik-ik. Tik.


    Nestled into the ruins of the copsed building leaning over the freeway was a Marked Man camp. The building loomed over me like an arch, with loose wires looping in and out of the concrete frame and strips of long cloth blowing in the wind like gs. The area was flooded with low levels of radiation from a nearby warhead. It was strapped to a tbed that had been removed from whatever truck had hauled it and was sitting up on blocks. The radiation wasn''t quite as bad as the fortress in Hopeville, but it was definitely noticeable.


    I''d kept myself hidden among the cover on the approach, but the closer I got, the more I realized: something didn''t feel right. I didn''t see anything on the motion tracker in my helmet''s heads-up disy. No thermal signatures. Only a few dim electrical signals from a generator somewhere near the top of the upright building.


    "Where is everyone?" I asked aloud. I stood up, clicking the button on my belt to be visible, and nothing. Nobody took any potshots at me. No res were fired in my direction. The only sound was the wind howling through the empty buildings above me.


    "Looks like they''re gone" Sue whispered.


    After a few minutes of looking around, it soon became abundantly clear that the Marked Men hadn''t <strong>gone</strong> anywhere. Every one was <strong>dead</strong>. Practically every concrete surface was covered in blood. There were spent shell casings and discarded weapons littering the cracked highway beneath the buildings. There were a few mauled body parts scattered around the camp, but I couldn''t see anythingrger than a hand or a foot.


    "ED-E," I hissed, gripping my rifle tightly and advancing through the carnage. "You''re seein'' this, right?"


    "Affirmative," ED-E buzzed right above my head, darting from corner to corner of the ruined camp. "All hostiles in the area have been eliminated by an unknown party."


    "What do you think? Tunnelers?" I asked. There certainly were enough w marks around at least, they <em>looked</em> like w marks. Huge gashes were ripped out of the concrete near almost every stter of blood. Of course, they could''ve been made by those gigantic swords I''d seen a few of the Marked Men use, so who knows?


    "Unlikely," ED-E buzzed onward, to a wrecked airstream trailer just ahead on the freeway. "The damage appears to be recent: within thest hour, based on the oxidation of spilled blood around the camp." ED-E zoomed close to the ground, darting a few inches from the road between a pair of wrecked cars and scrap metal. "And there are no emergence holes. No solid ground. Nowhere on these raised highway tforms for the underground creatures to appear."


    "Maybe it was another group of Marked Men?" I asked, thinking aloud. There was a section of highway just overhead; it ended abruptly, with jagged, broken edges and frayed metal cables sticking out like long fingers, grasping at the sky. "Ulysses did say they liked to ''tear'' at each other" <em>For sport.</em>


    "We should keep moving," Sue whispered. "Something about this ce sends a chill up my diodes..."


    I was just about to agree, but then I stopped when I passed by the trailer. It was dented, it had no windows, it was riddled with bullet holes and a blue g marker was painted on the side.


    "Hold on a sec," I said, cautiously stepping into the trailer. "I''m gonna check on something." The inside of the trailer was a mess, but it definitely had the feel of a camp. Not one that belonged to the ruined and empty Marked Man outpost, but a campsite that an individual had used sometime in the past. And it didn''t take a genius to guess who


    Sure enough, near the back  wedged between a filthy, saggy mattress covered in pieces of blood-soaked cardboard and a duffel bag full of scrap metal and rusty tin cans  was another one of Ulysses'' holotapes: this one was marked with a .16 on the end of thebel.


    "Sheason?" Sue squeaked softly. "<strong>Seriously</strong>. We should leave"


    "Don''t worry," I said, shoving the holotape into my duster. "We''re goi-" I paused when I looked up at the back of the trailer''s wall. I hadn''t noticed it before, because it seemed to blend in with the metal, but there was some kind of graffiti sprayed on the wall  but obscured almost entirely by filth and grime. I brushed a gloved hand against it to scrape away the muck, and another one of Ulysses g markers was revealed.


    Red.


    "I think you''re right" I started to slowly back up.


    <strong>THUD.</strong>


    I wheeled around, aiming my rifle frantically in the direction of the sound. It came from above. Something had justnded on the top of the trailer. Something big, and very, very <strong>heavy</strong>. Nearly all of the roof was bent inward.


    Movement next to the window on my left. Something long, thick and scaly: an enormous leathery tail. Long ck ws sailed past the window to my right, like the fins on a school of sand sharks. A low, loud, guttural growl reverberated from above me, shaking the metal walls of the trailer.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice buzzed in my ear. "Do not "


    I never heard what he said next. There was a wrenching sound of metal against metal, a shower of sparks, and a huge section of the trailer was ripped clean off. The deathw just grabbed hold of one side and ripped right through the steel like it was made out of butter.


    I was already running at that point. I practically dove for what was left of the door, and bolted. The deathw roared so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of the metal being shredded where I''d been standing seconds before. Almost.


    "Oh my!" Sue squealed as I pulled the Red re off my back, running all the while. "That''s quiterge!" I didn''t say anything. I just did my best to reload the rocketuncher as quickly as I could on the move. The pavement of the freeway below me shook, and I could just make out the sound of heavy footfalls over the tinny 6-note tune the rocketuncher sted in my ear. The two halves of the rocketuncher clicked together, I vaulted over a nearby wreck  sliding across what was left of the hood  and wheeled around to face the deathw with the rocketuncher at the ready.


    It was on all fours, crouching down low to the road as it advanced, and it <em>still</em> towered over me! It stared at me with a pair of beady, oil-ck eyes, snarling and slobbering with a wide open mouth filled entirely with razor sharp fangs. Its tail was swishing back and forth in the air above it. One of its massive w-tipped hands was on the roof of a nearby wreck, and as it moved forward, the paw just went straight through, ttening the middle of the rusted out car like a pancake.


    It wasn''t running  it was just casually strolling towards me on all fours. It was <em>toying </em>with me, and that somehow made it <strong>worse</strong> than if it was actually running at me full speed. Those brief seconds I stared down the two-ton murder machine felt like six years.


    I braced myself and squeezed the trigger. One after another, the screaming red rockets flew out of the table on my shoulder, and all of them went straight for the face. The explosionspletely obscured the beast in a storm of sparks, color, noise, and smoke. Rocks and tiny pieces of shrapnel pelted me, and for a minute it almost looked like that had killed the monster


    and then the deathw erupted out of the fiery red smoke, ws reaching forward and raking the air. It was snarling, spitting, and still slightly on fire, butpletely unharmed.


    "FUCK!" I yelled. The deathw charged at me with both arms outstretched, and my grip on the Red re vanished. The rocketuncher ttered to the ground as I dove to the side, just narrowly avoiding getting sliced in half. Behind me, I heard a crunch as one of the Jersey barriers on the freeway was smashed to pieces. I tried to roll and get back up an-


    <strong>WHUMP!</strong>


    I was caught in the midsection by a tail that came out of nowhere. All the wind rushed out of my lungs, and everything became a blur. I tumbled through the air, flying who the fuck knows how far or where, and only stopped when I crashed back-first (and upside-down) into the side of a truck. The armor softened the blow a little, and it didn''t <em>feel</em> like I had any broken ribs, but


    OKAY! Yeah, turns out a deathw charging at you is <strong>just</strong> as terrifying if it''s upside down! That''s good to know!


    I scrambled to my feet and desperately pushed off the ground to get out of the way. In a sh, the side of the truck I''d been thrown against was gone: smashed to pieces when the deathw headbutted the damn thing with its horns, having charged at it like a bighorner.


    I was back to running. I didn''t look over my shoulder, because I <em>knew</em> it wasn''t stuck. The sound of wrenching, rusty metal breaking and folding was proof enough that it had pulled itself free. But on the plus side, the beginnings of a n were forming as I ran straight at the warhead in the middle of the Marked Men camp. I pulled theser detonator out of my duster, gulped involuntarily when I heard a roar from behind me, ignored the clicking from my Pip Boy''s Geiger counter, and kept running after I passed the warhead.


    I was maybe 50 feet away when I spun around, skidding to a stop,ser detonator pointing at the nuke and finger already on the trigger. Theser beams sliced through the air, impacting the side of the warhead, and I only hoped that I was outside the st radius. The deathw was still lumbering forward, not even trying for full speed, and it looked like he was going to pass right by the


    <strong>CLANG!</strong>


    The beast backhanded the warhead before it got a chance to explode. It tumbled off the truck like it was made out of cardboard, ttened a wall made of scrap metal on the way, and then went sailing straight down out of sight over the edge of the freeway.


    Oh, <strong>balls</strong>.


    Think fast, chucklenuts. You''ve got an angry deathw looking to make a meal of you, and you don''t have any kind of weapons on you except some dinky pistols and your fists, one of which can punch-


    It was like a light bulb lit up over my head. Fuck it, worth a shot. What have I got to lose, right? I didn''t have much of a choice, and it''s not like I''d have all that long to care if I fucked up.


    I nted my feet and reached back with my cybeic hand, readying a punch just as it closed the distance. It wasn''t reaching to slice me with its ws; the way its mouth was wide open, aiming right at me, it almost looked like it was nning to swallow me whole. It let out another roar, sting me in the face with its hot breath


    <strong>THWUMP!</strong>


    Somehow, I managed tond one good, solid crack against its jaw. The deathw recoiled from the punch, but it hadn''t appeared to do any damage. It was staring bug-eyed off at nothing just to the side with an almost dazed expression sort of like someone who''d just been pped unexpectedly, and was too shocked to do anything about it except freeze.


    No such luck here, though. It shook its head several times, and then wheeled around to try and swipe at me with one of its massive ws, roaring and spitting all the while. But I dove and rolled under the swinging paw, missing it by inches. Probably. The ws dug deep into the concrete surface of the highway, sending chunks of rubble flying everywhere.


    Just as I was getting back on my feet, I saw the tail start toe at me, just like before  but I was ready for it this time. I kicked off the ground, vaulted on top of the swinging tail, and used it as a leg up so I could grab the spines on its back. I scrambled for grip, grabbing hold of the spikes growing out of its spine as tightly as I could, climbing over its back like I was climbing a mountain except this mountain was fighting back.


    For a split second, I was reminded of my fight with Gabe. The deathw writhed and shook beneath me, trying to knock me off every second, but I held onto the spines for dear life. Remember the lessons of the bucking brahmin in the <em>Broken Spoke</em>, Sheason! Sixteen seconds can be a long time, you can do this!


    It roared loudly, and swiped with one of its massive ws, trying to swat me off its back like I was an annoying fly, but it didn''t seem to have the proper range of motion in its arm to hit me. I reached forward, grabbing the base of the left horn, and pulled the Ranger Sequoia from its holster. I didn''t have much choice of weapons on me, but shooting Gabe in the back of the skull seemed to work well enough. Granted, I''d had a holorifle against a ss brain-case, then


    It tried to shake me off violently again, roaring almost as loud as the earlier sandstorm, and I almost lost my grip but through luck, skill, or sheer determination, I somehow managed to hold on. I buried the muzzle of the Ranger Sequoia against the back of its skull, cocked the hammer, and fired.


    There was a massive spark, and the bullet bounced harmlessly off its thick, scaly hide.


    "FUCK!" I couldn''t help but yell. Even worse, I lost my grip on its horn, and it finally managed to buck me off. I tumbled through the air for a few seconds, losing my grip on the Ranger Sequoia. I managed to right myself just in time to m into the gap between a rusted hulk of a car wreck and a Jersey barrier.


    And now I''m stuck. Great. Oh, look! And the deathw ising at me mouth-first again! I tried to worm my way free, but I was too slow. In a sh, the monster came down hard, snapping its mouth shut right around my cybeic arm.


    It was like time stood still. The deathw looked perplexed, snorting at me. Its teeth were mped around my arm but hadn''t gone <em>through</em> it. The massive toothy jaw was wedged open slightly, unable topletely close around my metal bicep.


    I didn''t have time to think about what I was doing, I just acted. I reached around inside, grabbed hold of the deathws tongue, punched the roof of its mouth, and wedged my elbow against its lower jaw. When it roared this time, I got a fantastic (and disgusting) view of the back of its throat opening up, spraying me with spittle and sting me in the face with hot air. It started thrashing, but couldn''t move with me holding onto its tongue with my cybeic hand, and it couldn''t close its mouth hard enough to break the metal shell around my arm. It was like my arm was a cybeic jaws-of-life.


    "You want something to eat?" I yelled, reaching for That Gun behind me. "EAT THIS!" I shoved the barrel into the soft, unprotected flesh on the inside of its mouth, and pulled the trigger over and over again. Five muzzle shes erupted inside its mouth until the revolver finally clicked dry.


    The monster shuddered over me, gurgling and coughing. It let out onest groan before blood poured from its mouth, and suddenly it went limp  copsing down on top of me, and <strong>further</strong> pinning me in ce.


    "Oh, fer <strong>FUCK</strong> sake!" I grumbled. It was like a sack of bricks hadnded on my legs! It took a great deal of twisting and wiggling (not to mention just a little bit of man-maneuvering) but eventually I managed to pull myself out from under the dead scaly mass of meat. On the way, I let go of its tongue, and grabbed hold of one of its teeth, pulling it out. It wasn''t quite the size of a steak knife, but at three inches long, it was still pretty impressive. Without really thinking, I shoved it in my pocket.


    "Ugh" I clutched my head and leaned against the Jersey barrier, staring at the dead deathw and then at the length of highway. I was quite a long way from that now ripped in half airstream trailer, and nearly all of my weapons were littering various points of the freeway. Hell, I was probably going to have to burn fifteen minutes just looking for everything


    "Let''s never do that again." Sue squeaked. I nodded, letting out a weary, grim chuckle.


    "Agreed," I looked around just in time to see ED-E float down from the sky. "Oh, yeah, NOW you show up! Feel free to step in <strong>any time</strong>, you know?" I let out a tiredugh, hopefully to let him know that I wasn''t serious.


    ED-E hovered in midair, staring at me silently.


    "...ED-E?" I asked, already suspecting what wasing.


    "Mediocre" Ulysses voice growled out of the speaker grill.

 Chapter 126: Condemned To Repeat It

    Chapter 126: Condemned To Repeat It


    FUCK! How could this have happened?! Running for my life from who the fuck knows how many toothy, scaly, snarling murder machines hot on my heels! Definitely don''t want to be here!


    And things had been so quiet fifteen minutes ago...


    After my brush with the deathw, I managed to reach the end of the High Road without any further incident. At any rate, I didn''t run into anything else trying to kill me. It wasn''t <empletely</em> free of unease, however  the sun was sinking rapidly below the horizon, and I needed to find some shelter, <em>and fast,</em> before dark.


    The refuge I eventually found barely qualified as shelter at all: just a campfire, a bedroll, and a few duffel bags full of supplies. It was built into the wreckage blocking a copsed tunnel, almost exactly opposite the entrance to the High Road. I wouldn''t have even noticed it if ED-E hadn''t suddenly flown on ahead, and directly into a nearby shipping crate sticking out of the wreckage next to the camp. I followed him up, and then found reason stay (at least for a while): more of Ulysses'' graffiti, painted in blue on one of the rocks near the camp.


    What the hell, I thought to myself as I proceeded to rummage through the bags for any supplies. This ce seems horribly exposed, with no visible defense against Marked Men, deathws, tunnelers, or even sandstorms... but if it was a good enough ce for Ulysses to make camp, it was good enough for me. Maybe I was just talking out of my ass, but frankly I was too weary to worry about the dangers. This hadn''t been my longest day ever  not even close! But this day had already been extremely exhausting, and I needed to get some rest.


    While searching for anything useful, I stumbled across another log with a .22 on thebel. Hardly surprising, given the graffiti. I was just about to settle in, grab one of the MREs I''d found, and listen to both logs I''d found on the High Road when I was interrupted by the sound of voices from inside the nearby shipping container. Oh that''s right, ED-E had gone in there, hadn''t he?


    "All due respect, sir, I think you''re making a mistake." I heard Whitley''s recorded voice echoing off the metal walls when I stepped into the shipping crate. ED-E was hovering near the back, focused intently on a poster mounted on the wall: another one of the RALPHIE the Robot posters.


    "We''re close to a breakthrough with the Duraframe Eyebots I can -" Whitley paused, and then sighed. "Yes sir. Yes sir, I understand that we need the Duraframe asssets for Hellfire armor, but-" He halted mid-sentence to pause again. "No sir." Another pause. "Yes sir, I understand, sir. I''ll tell the team to start disassembling the ED series prototypes right away..." There was a click of metal against metal, and he let out a heavy sigh. "What the  ED-E, you little rascal! Were you eavesdropping again?" Whitley chucked to himself. "I think those videos you watch are a bad influence on you. How much of that did you hear?"


    "Almost all of it," ED-E said in time with his recorded voice, creating a strange sort of echoing stereo sound.


    "I''m sorry, little buddy," Whitley replied. "Hmm... Hang on. Didn''t Dr. Grant say that she upgraded your navigational systems?" He paused, as if thinking. "You know, I think I have an idea. ED-E? How''d you like to be just like RALPHIE?" And with that, the recording clicked off. ED-E hovered in ce for a few seconds, just staring at the poster in silence.


    "Sounds like Whitley was a bit of a rogue element," I said, breaking the silence. I had to hold backughter when ED-E wobbled frantically in midair. "I''m beginning to see where you get it from."


    "Er... yes. Yes, Friend_Courier. He did not want all of his creations to be destroyed, and cannibalized for parts. So, he engineered a situation that would allow me to escape." I nodded with a smile, gently patting his chassis.


    "I think I would have liked him," I said. ED-E seemed to nod, the sounds of several things clicking inside his chassis were echoed by the acoustics of the shipping container.


    "Thank you, Friend_Courier. If given the choice, I believe he would have dly joined you on your mission to make the wastnd a better ce."


    "Do you know what happened to him?" I asked. I wasn''t sure if I''d asked him that before. Had I asked him that before? ED-E shook back and forth.


    "I do not, Friend_Courier. After departing Adams Air Base, I severed all contact with existing Enve frequencies, in ordance with his n for my escape."


    "Hmm," I grunted out. ED-E went back to staring at the poster. I had to change the subject, get him out of this funk. "So, do you record everything that''s said around you?" Immediately, ED-E perked up. That seemed to do the trick.


    "Oh, yes indeed, Friend_Courier! Recording the world around me is an integral part of my programming. It was the feature meant to set the Duraframe Model eyebots apart from the standard binary drone_eyebot counterparts. Since travelling with you, I have acquiredrge quantities of recorded data onbat, social cues, and even human mating calls."


    It took me a minute to process thatst part.


    "I... you... what?!" I finally blurted out. "Are you shittin'' me?"


    "I wouldn''t mind hearing some of those..." Sue said suddenly, a slight waver in her voice.


    "No! Sue, no!" I felt on the verge of an aneurysm. "That''s just... no, this is neither the time or ce for..."


    "Are you sure, Friend_Courier?" ED-E tilted to the side, apparently confused. "I have some recordings of yourself and Cassidy_Rose that may prove inter -" Without warning, the perverted robotic voyeur came to a dead stop mid-sentence and went stiff as a board.


    I was suddenly very conflicted. On the one hand, I was d that he shut up before saying anything else. It was just me (okay, yes, and Sue) here, and I was <em>still </em>embarrassed! But, on the other hand, I was also worried: I thought Ulysses might have grabbed hold of him again.


    As it turned out, the reality was far, far worse.


    "I am tracking movement below us, Friend_Courier," ED-E said. "Multiple signatures. 200 meters and closing fast." And just like that, I was no longer exhausted!


    "Damn!" I grabbed the re gun from inside my duster, and rushed out of the metal shipping crate; ED-E buzzed my head to get out first, and started circling the area. I was just about to leave this ce and not look back, but then, halfway down the pile of rubble, a thought struck me: had I grabbed the holotape? I skidded to a half and doubled back, scrambling back up the rocky hill. Sure enough, it was sitting on the end of the bedroll, and I managed to snatch it mere second before the ground shook beneath my feet.


    "We must leave!" ED-E called out after me. "They are here!"


    The rock beneath the bedroll exploded, tearing it to shreds. There was a flurry of ws, teeth, and chitin right in the middle of the exploding fountain of concrete and rubble, and what was to be the first of many tunnelers appeared. It stared at me with those six glowing eyes on its head, and let out a screech, opening up as wide as its bifurcated jaw would allow. Since the sun had only just set, it wasn''t nearly as dark as it had been underground earlier, so I (unfortunately) got a good look right down its gullet.


    All I could see down its throat was row after row of sharp, pointed, curved teeth... barbs, spines, thorns, whatever you want to call them. There was simply <strong>no end</strong>. It was teeth all the way down.


    My finger was already on the trigger of the re gun. There was a burst of powder and a small, white hot ball of light shot out of the re gun, vomiting red smoke in its wake. The re hit the tunneler right in the middle of its face. It iled onto its back, thrashing and letting out the most awful, howling, ear-splitting screech. I pulled out the Ranger Sequoia and did the best I could to aim at the constantly moving, partially-obscured-by-red-smoke tunneler.


    One shot was all it took. The thrashing mass of chitin was blown backwards, and the screeching gave way to a strained wet gurgle. Whatever his teeth were made of, they weren''t bulletproof. I was just about to leave, but then I noticed - with a mounting sense of rm  that the corpse was <em>still moving</em> and I could still hear growling and clicking. Sure enough, the carcass was pushed to the side by another tunneler emerging from the hole in the ground.


    "Oh, fuck off!" I yelled, firing a round right at the tunneler''s face before it even had a chance to fully emerge from under the dead one. It went limp before it could look surprised, but it was still moving - because even <em>more</em> were trying to force their way through the corpses to the surface.


    So I started running. There was no way I had enough ammo on me to plug that hole with bodies, and even if I did, there was nothing to stop them from just popping up from <em>another</em> one. And if the sounds I heard in the distance all around me  echoing screeches, chitin ws tearing into rock, and deep, booming roars that <em>never</em> meant good news  then all this noise I was making was drawing all the wrong kind of attention.


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E shouted, from somewhere up ahead; aser st streaked through the sky, helping me out a bit. "This way!" I followed the path of theser st, jumping over a Jersey barrier on the edge of the highway and down onto the side of a copsed building that had crashed into another one. I ran up the nted side, dodged around the open windows beneath my feet, ran straight for the corner of the building ahead of me, and just before I reached it I heard ED-E yell: "No, not that way!"


    I rounded the corner and was suddenly greeted by not one, but <strong>TWO</strong> deathws looking right at me.


    "NOPE!" I yelled, turning on my heel as quickly as I could. I rushed down the side of the building, back the way I''de, only to realize that the tunnelers were still chasing me. Dozens of chitinous, toothy monsters washed over the rubble like a tidal wave made out of ws and teeth. I ignored the roars behind me threatening to shake my teeth loose, and did the only thing I could think of: I jumped down into one of the open windows at my feet.


    My shoulder mmed into a wall inside the copsed building. It was probably the floor, given how everything had been copsed sideways, but whatever. I pulled the G36 off my back, and aimed above me, fully expecting to see dozens of ws and tooth-filled mouths reaching down through the windows above  or worse, giant ws ripping clean through the concrete... but for the moment, they seemed to be ignoring me. The air was filled with screeching and roars, and there was definitely movement visible in the darkness above my head, but...


    Enough ck-jawed staring. Move or you''re dead, moron! The wall (floor) I''dnded against had a giant hole in it from when the building had toppled over, so I ran through that, looking for a way out. Above me, the sounds of violence and concrete being torn apart seemed to be getting closer, rather than further away. Ahead, through a few more copsed walls (floors), I could see a rocky hill with open sky above  and ED-E floating down right into view.


    "Friend_Courier! Follow me!" He zoomed back up, and I scrambled up the slope after him. I was back on the freeway  sort of. It almost looked like an off ramp, littered with broken cars and debris. It led into a rocky canyon, away from the deathws and tunnelers fighting each other on the broken building, and that was good enough for me...


    I quickly looked over my shoulder. The two deathws were tearing into both buildings, swinging their ws wildly  almost <em>blindly</em>  trying to hit the tunnelers swarming over and around them. One of the deathws swiped down, knocking half a dozen tunnelers aside and ripped up quite a lot of the building they were standing on. It looked up, saw me, roared, and charged. The mass of tunnelers around it were either knocked aside, or started running as well; I couldn''t tell if they were chasing after the deathw, or <em>me</em>. And I was back to running!


    I think this is about where we came in.


    ED-E was ahead of me, darting around all the debris, leading me along a clear path up the off ramp. So I followed, trying to ignore the toothy gribblies behind me all vying for first ce in the "who can tear off Sheason''s wedding vegetables the quickest"petition.


    "Do not stop!" ED-E''s voice buzzed in my ear. "This path has been lined with satchel charges!"


    "<em><strong>WHAT?!</strong></em>" I yelled back at him, momentarily losing my footing. In that instant, I suddenly heard a very high pitched beeping off to my left. There wasn''t anything else I could do but pour on the speed. I ran as hard and fast as I could, never losing sight of ED-E...


    The first of the satchel charges started to go off. Normally, I''m fine with explosions if I''m the one causing them and I''m far enough away that I can stroll away casually from them without incident. These explosions were not like that, and were in fact WAY too close forfort. I didn''t dare pause, or even look back  not even when I heard the explosions start to rip up the rocky cliffs behind me. Waves of heat buffeted me from behind, and after the second or third st, a ferocious ringing in my ears blocked out any other sound.


    I didn''t stop. I couldn''t stop. My legs were just as determined not to get rendered down into chunky salsa as the rest of me, so I just kept going even faster. ED-E let off aser st that practically singed the air above my head, firing at something behind me, so I could only assume the gauntlet of satchel charges I''d run through hadn''t deterred the deathw. I wasn''t sure, because I couldn''t hear anything.


    The rocky canyon widened, and dumped me into a (rtively) t section ofnd, dotted with buildings. ED-E took a sharp right, aimed directly at the cluster of buildings, and promptly vanished with a crackle of electricity. The bottom of my stomach fell out  had my temporary bout of deafness caused me to miss out on the details of some kind of n?


    I nced back over my shoulder. There was a huge cloud of dust, debris, and still ming smoke coiling up into the air where the narrow, rocky canyon had been seconds before. A deathw burst out of the fire and smoke,plete with two dozen tunnelers running behind, and at least three still clinging onto the side of the beast, trying to tear it apart.


    This didn''t make sense. Why was this fucker so focused on chasing me, when there were so many other things much closer trying to kill it? I didn''t have time to figure out the answer, because while I was busy running, I neglected to look in front of me. The first I knew of the Marked Man was when I ran into him at full speed, sending the two of us hurtling to the ground. We both spun out, and I was now facing the monsters; he had his back to them.


    I managed to get back on my feet before him, and did the only thing I could think of: I punched him really hard with my cybeic fist. He was sent hurtling backward and didn''t even hit the ground before he was torn apart. The second deathw (and even more tunnlers besides) were emerging out of the cloud now. I grabbed the rifle that had fallen out of my hands, and started running again.


    That''s when it hit me: this wasn''t just a cluster of buildings! If the Marked Men were here, then this must be another one of their fortresses! Or one of their camps, at any rate. All I had to do was get their attention...


    I ran straight at one of thergest buildings, and sure enough, red faces free of any skin emerged all around. They were all armed to the teeth. A pair of red res shot out from somewhere on the roof and into the sky above. Double doors opened up in front of me, and a heavily armored Marked Man (wearing a metal helmetplete with metal facemask and beard) stood in my path carrying a chainsaw. He stood in the doorway, pulling on the ripcord to get the chain moving.


    "Get outta my way!" I said (but only sort of heard), shoulder-checking him without breaking stride. I ran straight through thepound, didn''t stop, and leapt out of an open window in the back, pressing the button on my belt. There was a rainbow shimmer, and I blended in with the shadows.


    By now, a bit of my hearing was starting toe back. The sounds of immense violence going on somewhere in the vicinity filtered in, apanied by roars and screeches, as well as bullets of various calibers being fired. I crept along the back of the camp as the mayhem steadily grew louder, encouraged that I wasn''t the target for once.


    I found my way back to the road, trying to remain as quiet and invisible as Sue''s cloaking would allow, and managed to get a good look at the carnage I''d created in my mad dash to escape. To be honest, I''m not sure ''carnage'' is quite the right word.


    Doesn''t seem strong enough.


    The Marked Men were throwing everything they had at the horde of monsters running at them  bullets, rockets, methrowers, res, etc.  and all they got for their trouble was to be thrown around like ragdolls. A few of the tunnelers were getting chewed up, either by Marked Men fire or by the random and lucky blows from the deathws they were trying to rip apart, but there were far too many of them. The Marked Man with the chainsaw tried to go for one of the deathw''s legs, and was probably very surprised when he got skewered through the midsection by one of its huge ws like he was a meat kebab. He probably didn''t feel surprised <em>for long</em>, as the deathw chomped down, biting off his entire top half. The other deathw in the back seemed to be bleeding quite heavily from the dozen or so tunnelers all wing, biting and tearing into it. The monster iled about wildly for a few seconds before charging headlong into one of the buildings. The Marked Men taking cover in it went flying, and the whole building practically <em>imploded</em> in on itself and proceeded to copse. A rocket streaked through the sky, hitting the first deathw in the side of the head. All <em>that </em>seemed to do (apart from blow apart one of the tunnelers trying to tear open the deathw''s face) was piss it off, because it turned around, crushed an unlucky tunneler underfoot, and charged straight at whoever had fired the rocket. A pair of Marked Men had climbed on top of the copsed building (firing both their assault rifles and re guns at the mass of tunnelers), and were unexpectedly knocked aside as the <em>other</em> deathw burst out from under the rubble, sending bits of concrete everywhere and spitting out copious amounts of blood. Its lower half was still stuck, however, and a pack of tunnelers promptly leapt on it, in an attempt to maul it further.


    I stood there for what felt like an eternity, just watching the madness unfold before my eyes. It was like a car crash. It was horrible and insane, but I couldn''t stop watching. It took a great deal of effort to pull myself away from it all.


    I slipped away into the shadows, leaving them to ughter each other without me.


    I kept going until the sounds of violence behind me got steadily softer and softer. Eventually, they disappeared altogether, until the only sound I could hear was the dull roar of the wind howling through the skeletal frames of buildings. ED-E was still keeping hidden behind his stealth field somewhere out of my view, and probably didn''t want to break radio silence until it was certain we were both out of harms way. I know <em>I </em>was still hidden with the stealth suit''s thermo-optic camo, and because Sue''s default state was ''quieter than a mute in a library for church mice,'' I didn''t really have much in the way for conversation to keep me awake.


    No, I just had the knowledge that literally <strong>hundreds</strong> of tunnelers right below my feet were just <em>waiting</em> for the opportune moment to strike. Nothing like gut-wrenching paranoia gnawing away at the back of your mind to keep you alert, right?


    I didn''t even know if I was going in the right direction. Was this the right direction? Hell, what <em>was</em> the right direction here, anyway? Should I be worried that the number of monsters and the Marked Men seem to be getting thicker as I went along, or is that Ulysses'' intention? Hell, where the fuck <em>was </em>he, anyway? That was entirely too many questions for a man who just wanted to sleep. But I didn''t dare, because who the fuck knows what''s going to show up NEXT to try and w my eye sockets out the moment I let my guard down.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice buzzed in my ear; an electric crackle from somewhere above my head filled me with a sense of relief. "I believe I have found it."


    "What, Ulysses?" I asked, pressing the button on my belt to return me to visibility.


    "Negative," ED-E responded, hovering down into view. "The silo." He suddenly spun in midair, and zoomed off down the path. Despite my confusion, I started running after him, but he was flying <em>just</em> fast enough that I couldn''t quite keep up.


    "Silo?" Sue asked as I ran. "What silo? What is ED-E talking about?"


    "I''m not sure..." I admitted, trying to think of thest thing Ulysses had said to me:


    <em>Walk West into the sun, and keep walking... until it dies. There  I''ll be waiting.</em>


    Maybe I was remembering it wrong. I tapped the side of my helmet. "ED-E, are you sure we''re going the right way?"


    "Affirmative," ED-E replied, zooming along the path, past a broken chain-link fence covered in signs. I slowed down as I got close, inspecting them. They were all variations on the same kind of warning: beyond is a military base, do not enter; trespassers will be shot, etc. They reminded me of the signs outside Boomer territory, or the signs outside of Hidden Valley.


    "I''ve got a bad feeling about this..." Sue squeaked. I nodded in agreement, gripping my rifle tighter.


    "Yeah. Me too." Beyond the fence was a whole bunch of concrete rubble... except for one structure. Sort of. At one point, it may have been a part of a muchrger building, but all that was left was what amounted to arge concrete bunker. Each wall seemed to be three feet thick, at the very least; probably reinforced with steel rebar, if the rubble all around was any indication. There were tons of broken concrete walls all around, but the structure I was looking at was the only one that had anything that could pass for a roof. ED-E was hovering just outside it, waiting for me.


    "This is... familiar," ED-E said, with audible difficulty. "A g symbol left by Enemy_Courier is inside." I came to a stop, and looked at another piece of graffiti, scrawled in red paint above the door.


    "How the sun dies?" I read aloud, turning the simple statement into a question. "What the fuck does that even mean?" It seemed like this was meaning behind Ulysses cryptic message from earlier. Except that this was <strong>just</strong> as cryptic, and he was nowhere to be found. <em>I''ll be waiting</em>, my foot. But then, this kind of purple prose cryptic bullshit in the form of sentence fragments was what I''de to expect from Ulysses. I shouldn''t be surprised.


    Cautiously, I stepped into the bunker, leading with the barrel of my rifle. Sure enough, it seemed to be empty. There was arge console beneath a wide viewport, and on the right side was arge door,plete with one of Ulysses'' white g markers painted in the middle. The door was a st door: big, heavy, some kind of sturdy metal, and with faded, barely visible yellow and ck hazard stripes running along the edges.


    "I guess we are going the right way..." Sue said quietly. I walked over to the door, with ED-E floating right behind.


    "Fuck. Maybe not," I said, reaching out and grabbing hold of the frayed and loose wires hanging from the broken control box next to the door. "There''s no way this door ising open with that fucking mess of broken wires and no way to fix it. That door looks way too thick to punch through, as well. No weak hinges. My arm would probably give before -"


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E interrupted, grabbing my attention. "There appears to be another set of wires, leading to the door." He was hovering close to the corner, his speaker grille pointing down between the console and the wall. I peered into the crack, and sure enough there was a makeshift conduit that connected a small corner of the wrecked door control to therge console.


    "You think this might open the door?" I asked, pulling away from the crack and patting the console; a small cloud of dust billowed out from under my hand.


    "It is certainly possible, yes Friend_Courier." One giant console to open a door. Seems convoluted. But no more nuts than anything else I''d seen here in the divide. I scanned the console for any part of it that didn''t appear to be covered in dust, and my eyes fell on a small red lever. So, I pulled it and... nothing. I toggled it back and forth, and the door remained resolutely shut.


    "Maybe there''s no power?" Sue offered up helpfully. That''s when I noticed the dish-shaped receiver on the opposite end of the console: the same kind of dish that ED-E had been using to open things up since we came to The Divide.


    "ED-E? Think you can -" He sted the dish with a burst of light-blue electricity before I could finish. I shrugged and smiled, nodding at ED-E. "Thank you."


    I reached out and pulled the switch.


    The top of the console erupted in sparks, and I brought an arm up to cover my face just out of reflex. A loud xon started to go off from somewhere outside the bunker. I couldn''t tell where, because the echo was bouncing off everything. A yellow light above the door that I hadn''t noticed suddenly turned on, and began spinning around. Something was rumbling, causing the ground beneath my feet to tremble. The pit of my stomach began to fall out.


    "Oh... oh <strong>no</strong>..." ED-E said, after floating over to look out of the viewport above the console with a staggering level of dread and unease. I leaned over the console to look out myself, and the bottom of my stomach proceeded to fall out like it was tied to an anvil. Below the bunker, I could see an enormous hatch in the t concrete in below slowly opening up... revealing the tip of a nuclear missile. The missile was being moved intounch position, and a great cloud of steam was billowing out all around the open hatch.


    "<strong>FUCK!</strong>" I shouted, scrambling over the controls. "No, no, no! Where''s the cancel!? There''s got to be some kind of cancetion button!" I pushed every button and pulled every lever I could see in a vain attempt to get things to stop, but it was no use. The console had gone dead. I mmed my fists against it several times, hoping that some percussive maintenance might do the job, but no. It was dead.


    The roar from the missile outside grew steadily louder and louder, until a huge cloud of smoke, steam, and fire erupted skyward from between the missile and the silo walls. The nuke rose steadily into the air, and I was hit with a st of heat and dust when the rocket engines cleared the hatch. It was now on its way to wherever it was going, and I couldn''t do anything to stop it.


    I felt paralyzed by fear as the realization of what had just happened struck me. And not just what <em>happened</em>... but what I had <em>done</em>.


    "Detecting irregrities in the Titan-II liquid fuel cell..." ED-E spoke up suddenly, grabbing my attention. "Friend_Courier, the seals are about to fail!" I looked out of the viewport to try and track the path of the missile; a trail of ck smoke followed the bright glow of the engines, already far in the distance, and even I could tell how unsteady that path was.


    I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed hold of ED-E, pulled him close to my chest and dove for cover under the console, curling around ED-E in as tight a ball as I could manage. I shut my eyes as tightly as I could and braced. I was probably dead anyway, but I still took cover just the same. The sound of the rocket had faded into nothing. Several seconds passed.


    There was a sh, brighter than anything I have ever experienced. My eyes were shut as tight as I could manage with my helmet-covered face buried against ED-E''s chassis. And yet, the sh was so overwhelmingly bright that it was like someone was pointing a shlight right against my eyes. Everything around me started to heat up like I''d been put in an oven. But there was no sound... at least at first.


    Several seconds passed. Just as the light began to fade, and the heat seemed to get worse, the ground beneath me started to heave and roll. The solid concrete moved under me in waves. A roar louder and more all consuming than any explosion I''d ever experienced hit my ears like a pair of sledgehammers boxing my head. It felt like every part of my body was being punched simultaneously. I couldn''t tell if I was being hit by the shock front of the explosion, or if pieces of the bunker I was huddled in were copsing on top of my armored form.


    I''m sure that I must have screamed, huddled in a ball, curled around ED-E, but I couldn''t hear anything. There was no sound, just the violent earthquake shaking all around, and the heat threatening to cook me.


    For several minutes, I didn''t move. I wasn''t sure if I was even <em>alive</em>. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, and I was still surrounded in darkness. I tried to move, and met tremendous resistance. I was buried in concrete rubble and metal. I grunted, shoving against the concrete surrounding me with every part of my body.


    My hand pushed past the rubble, and out into the open air; I grasped frantically at nothing, trying to find something I could use to pull myself free. My Pip Boy''s Geiger counter started clicking more frantically than I''d ever heard. My palm found grip on something, and I tried to ignore the fact that it felt like I was pressing my hand against a frying pan that had been on the stove for six hours.


    Concrete rubble fell off my back after I pushed off the ground with immense difficulty. I felt weak, as if my legs had turned to jelly. I clutched at my head, and ED-E floated out into the open air away from me. I shook my head clear and looked around.


    Apart from the ceiling, the bunker was surprisingly intact. The wall I''d taken cover behind had definitely taken the brunt of it. Exposed rebar wires poked out from where the concrete had crumbled, and every surface still facing the explosion was still slightly red and smoldering. The console looked like it had been ripped apart from the inside, with most of itpletely disintegrated. Waves of heat radiated off everything still standing, and my Pip Boy''s clicking just illustrated the point. Amazingly enough, the wall with the door, and the structure it was connected to, seemed to bepletely intact  even though the door had been forced open, and all the paint had evaporated into nothing.


    I looked out across the distance, and the mind numbing horror of the situation hit me. The buildings and the mountains beyond seemed to be melting. The sky was no longer ck, but <em>orange</em>, like even the air had caught fire. There were no clouds... except the <strong>one</strong>.


    The mushroom cloud was sorge, and yet so far distant, that it was messing with my sense of perspective. The head of the ckened and still billowing mushroom cloud was huge, and yet the stem of the mushroom was thin and wispy, like it was made out of string. I couldn''t tell how far away it was. It must have been several <strong>miles</strong> away, at least... hell, they could probably see the mushroom cloud looming over everything all the way in <em>Vegas</em>...


    What have I done?

 Chapter 127: Descent into Hell

    Chapter 127: Descent into Hell


    <strong>CRUNCH.</strong>


    The st door moved another few inches, grinding against the frame. It was deformed slightly underneath the grip of my cybeic fingers, and the surface was still blistering hot. At least, I <em>assumed</em> it was hot. The metal was ckened and had <em>literally</em> blistered, but I didn''t feel any heat under my palm. It''s possible that my cybeic arm was able to dull anything that might be picked up as ''pain,'' leaving other tactile sensations intact. That would certainly exin why I could feel things as normal, but still punch through steel doors without feeling anything more than a mild rap on the knuckles. I might also exin why I didn''t pass out from the deathw trying (and failing) to bite off my arm.


    I know that doesn''t seem all that important, but I had to do <strong>something</strong>... anything to take my mind off the... <em>cloud</em>... Focusing on something insignificant while ignoring the truly pressing matter: wasn''t that was amon symptom of shock? Some kind of acute stress reaction? Sounded like something I''d read in one of Arcade''s books, at least...


    I gave the door another shove, and it opened wide enough for ED-E to float through. I could hear the sound of a xon ringing from somewhere inside, along with some other indistinct sounds. Beyond was darkness... and it was probably going to lead deep underground. That meant tunnelers. But it''s not like I really had much of a choice. It was either that, or I stay out here and wait for the end. Neither choice was ideal.


    Every part of my body was screaming in pain. I didn''t need to check to know that I had to be covered in bruises from the concrete pummeling I''d taken. Even though I was sure my armor had taken the brunt of the heat from the explosion, my limbs still felt like they''d been set on fire. I could take some (small)fort in that I could still <em>feel </em>things. No pain after an explosion usually meant only one thing: third degree burns. They''d melt away most of your flesh, and you''d never feel it because they''d cook off your nerve endings first...


    I cast a nce to my left, off into the distance. The mushroom cloud had only gotten <em>bigger</em> since the explosion. The head of the mushroom was now sorge that I could barely see any sky behind it. It was illuminated from below by the orange light of fires and radioactive molten g. The scale was just... it was too big for me to wrap my head around. This was no longer something I <em>thought </em>they''d be able to see from Vegas. It was so huge that I was sure people could probably see it in ces like <em>the Boneyard</em>, or even as far north as Shady Sands. And even if they couldn''t see the <em>cloud</em>, I''m sure they''d seen the <em>sh</em>, which had lit up the sky like there''d been another sun. Plus, there was that earthquake caused by the explosion''s shock front...


    Yeah. I think people are going to notice.


    I don''t know how I''d survived. I don''t think I should have. Had ducking behind the concrete wall actually helped shield me from the st, or had I just been far enough away from the explosion? I tried to push these questions out of my mind. I had to keep moving forward. I had to get my answers from Ulysses. But the more I tried to force them away, the more the questions just kept popping back into the forefront of my mind:


    <em>How many people had been under the warhead when it detonated?</em>


    <em>How many more people would die in the weeks toe from the fallout?</em>


    <em>And how many more would have to die as a result of my selfish curiosity?</em>


    I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. Focus. Compartmentalize. You''re no use to anyone if you stay still, paralyzed by fear and questions. You''ve got to keep moving forward.


    "ED-E? You alright?" I asked, when I noticed that ED-E hadn''t really moved yet. He wobbled a bit in midair.


    "I am..." He moved forward, unsteadily. "No. I am not alright, Friend_Courier. But we must keep moving forward." As if to punctuate the thought, he started hovering his way to the now-open door, but stopped just before the threshold. "Are you going to leave the Red re behind?"


    I looked over my shoulder at the rocketuncher. It was twisted in a mangled pile of half-melted metal, lying on top of the pile of concrete that had both shielded and nearly buried me earlier.


    "Lost cause," I grumbled. "It''ll only slow me down." And good riddance, I thought to myself as I followed ED-E into the underground. It was too heavy and cumbersome, ammo was way too scarce, and they did a total of jack and shit to the deathws around here. Unsurprising, really. There was only so much explosive fuel you could pack in rockets that tiny.


    "Sue?" I asked, looking down at my chest. "What about you? How are you doing? You alright?"


    "I''m sorry, Sheason," Sue squeaked out, a very audible waver in her voice; the digital processing was highly noticeable. "I''m terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought."


    "Okay then," I turned on my Pip Boy light. "At least we''re on the same page."


    Directly in front of me in this darkened structure was arge tform with a control panel in one corner. Based on the shape of the walls and the nted ceiling beyond the tform  not to mention the gaps underneath it  it looked like some kind of cargo elevator leading underground. Hell, it would probably lead straight to the silo. And that distant rumbling from somewhere under my feet definitely wasn''t encouraging. This did not seem like a good idea.


    But this was my only way forward.


    I checked my gear again, to try and get my brain to focus something I could actually control. With the exception of the Red re, most of my guns had been under me or protected by my armor when I''d taken cover. Roscoe, That Gun, the Ranger Sequoia, the sawed off, the pulse gun, the sonic emitter... they were all pretty much fine. Even the Big Mountain Transportalponder!, which I''d been keeping in a pocket somewhere inside my duster, was unmarred. There were a few pieces on the G36 which had melted or been bent out of shape, but all the importantponents on that gun which allowed it to fire still seemed to work. Even though it now no longer had a stock. The only other major casualty had been the re gun. Damn thing had snapped clean in half, somehow. I''d have to find another one before I ran into more tunnelers.


    The fact that so much of my gear survived intact was, frankly, a little surprising. What <em>wasn''t</em> surprising was that my Pip Boy waspletely unscathed. Hell, the <em>ss</em> wasn''t even scratched or chipped or anything. The image of the Vault Boy looked up at me from behind the screen with that cartoonish, winking grin, and almost seemed to be giving me a thumbs up, as if to say "Of course I''m fine, I was built by Vault Tec! The one thing they knew how to do was build shit to <strongst</strong>!"


    "Alright, c''mon," I looked over to ED-E, and motioned at the tform. "We''ve got to keep moving." ED-E bobbed in ce silently, as if nodding his agreement, and I walked over to the control panel, ignoring the xons ringing in my ear. Thankfully, this control panel was not like the one outside, and only had two buttons: "UP" and "DOWN." I could only hope that this wouldn''tunch another missile, but as I''d just been trying to open a <em>door</em> before, who knows.


    I pressed the button for "DOWN" and immediately the floor dropped out from under my feet several inches with a heavy <strong>KUH-CHOONK!</strong> The whirring and grinding of metal machinery all around filled my ears. The tform began to inch down the sloping ramp, entirely too slow for my liking.


    And then, as things are wont to do, they suddenly got worse. One of the pipes on the sloped roof above the tform exploded without warning.


    "FUCK!" I yelled, leaping to the back edge of the tform, and brought my Pip Boy to cover my face. And that''s when I finally made the connection: those distant rumbles were the sounds of explosions going off elsewhere in the bunker! This ce was tearing itself apart after the missileunch! And as if that weren''t enough...


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E shouted, just as anotherrge pipe burst in a plume of red fire. "I am detecting movement all around us!"


    Sure enough, the hideous screeching sound of tunnelers wormed its way into my ears, drowning out theexplosions briefly. So much for finding another re gun before fighting more tunnelers. I held the G36 in my cybeic hand and reached behind me to pull out That Gun. They weren''t going to take me without a


    "Behind you!" I heard ED-E shout right before the tform shook from yet <em>another </em>explosion from somewhere underneath us. I wheeled around, aiming the rifle one handed as a curtain of fire rose up from below, providing a stark contrast to the jet ck monster leaping through the air, its mouth wide and its arms and ws spread.


    I was so caught off guard that I stumbled backward, firing at the tunneler as I fell. Inded t on my back, and there was something vaguely surreal about the sign of the tunneler flying over my head, missing me by miles, illuminated by the darkening wall of fire from all sides and bright yellow muzzle sh from the assault rifle directly underneath.


    The beast missed mepletely and face-nted on the edge of the tform, iling uselessly in a tangled mass of limbs as it skidded off the edge. When I got up, I had to keep myself fromughing: it had slid right past a "Caution: Trip Hazard!" sign just before toppling over the edge.


    Another set of pipes near me burst, and the screeching just got louder. And no wonder: a pair of tunnelers had practically flung themselves out of the hole, ignoring the fire and smoke, andnded on the tform opposite me.


    "This is my elevator! Find your own!" I yelled, firing off round after round from the revolver and rifle in both my hands. A few bursts of bloodter, and the two of them were lying in crumpled heaps. They were surprisingly fragile, given that I''d seen these things tearing at deathws earlier... but there were a <strong>lot</strong> of them. I kicked a carcass off the edge, and three more suddenly appeared  one from above, and two wing their way up from below. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a streak of redsers shing through the air.


    <em>They''re the ones tearing this ce apart</em>, I thought to myself just as another explosion rocked the tform. I fired at another tunneler trying to climb onto the edge, but that''s when That Gun decided to go dry. Another pipe burst  along with a section of wall  and more tunnelers started pouring out of it like water from a hose. I holstered That Gun, pulled out the sawed off, and fired into the mass of chitin swarming at me with the shotgun and the rifle until both went empty as well. I''d taken out quite a few, but five tunnelers had evaded the fire andnded on the tform. They all crouched down low, getting ready to leap.


    "FUCK YOU!" I shouted, shouldering the rifle and balling my cybeic hand into a fist. The tunneler in front screeched and leapt at me, but I met it halfway. The monster managed to clip the side of my helmet with his ws, but my fist connected with the center of its face. The diamond-shaped head buckled and snapped, but its hindquarters still had momentum, so it started spinning around in midair like a pinwheel.


    The spines of the dead tunneler smashed into me, providing a decent buffer between myself and the <em>next </em>tunneler trying to leap at me. I desperately grabbed at the mass of spikes and chitin while pulling back with my cybeic hand again. I could feel the ws trying to rip into me for a brief second  and then the wing stopped abruptly when I punched the tunneler in the side.


    "FUCK!" I grabbed the tail of the tunneler with both hands before it dropped out of the air. "ALL!" I started swinging. "OF!" For a lifeless carcass, it was a decent enough club. "YOU!" I caught two of the tunnelers with one swing, and they both flew off the edge of the tform and right into another explosion.


    The tform came to an abrupt halt. I looked around and realized that there was now a door I could use as an exit! I don''t know where it led, but who cares as long as it led somewhere <em>away</em>. I tossed the dead tunneler in my cybeic hand as hard as I could, and sent it flying into another tunneler that had justnded on the tform. Or had it wed its way up from below?


    "ED-E! We''re leaving!" I yelled, running for the door and pulling Roscoe out of its holster. ED-E didn''t say anything, but floated backwards toward the door as fast as he could, stingsers all the time. I punched the button to open the door. The hydraulics coughed and wheezed, so I spun around with Roscoe leveled and started firing. I don''t know exactly how many tunnelers were now crawling along every surface after me, backlit by the fires from all the explosions, but there had to be at least ten. Probably more.


    ED-E and I both backed into the open door, firing into the mass of chitin. The one closest to me only went down after five shots to the face, and then the one behind used it as a ramp to try and leap at me. I hit the button on the other side of the door, and the hydraulics  now properly warmed up from use  kicked in much faster this time. The tunneler reached forward as it leapt through the air and got one of its ws caught in the rapidly closing door for its trouble. The door mmed shut as if there had been nothing in the way. There was a sound like a radroach being ttened underfoot, and the severed w flopped to the ground lifelessly.


    I backed away from the door, trying to catch my breath. The xons were still going off, and I could hear the muffled sounds of other explosions elsewhere in the facility. But, for the moment, there were no more tunnelers in my immediate vicinity. I knew that would change, and fast, so I made my way forward, reloading as many of my guns as I could on the move.


    "Got any idea which way?" I asked as we came to a hallway on one side and a staircase leading down on the other. The constant drone of ringing sirens was making it incredibly difficult to think or concentrate.


    "No," ED-E admitted, before floating down the stairs. At that moment, the hallway erupted in fire, so I followed as quickly as I could before that explosion got any bigger. The two of us entered into a narrow, winding corridor which asionally shook from an explosion somewhere else... and then something really unexpected happened.


    "<strong>WEAPONS FREE!</strong>" A sentry bot boomed from around the next bend. "<strong>NON COMBATANTS ADVISED TO STAND CLEAR!</strong>" There was an explosion, and the top half of a tunneler was blown into the wall directly in front of me.


    I looked over at ED-E, and he just sort of... silently bobbed in ce, like a nod. I reached into my duster, pulled out both the pulse gun and sonic emitter, and clicked the button on my belt. I shimmered into transparency, and slipped around the corner, energy pistols at the ready.


    The room looked like the inside of a meat grinder. Blood and guts were liberally sprayed across the walls, and dismembered, chitinous body parts were strewn around all over  although most of them had collected in the corners. In the center of the room was a solitary sentry bot, pivoting slowly on its treaded wheels on the end of its three legs, scanning the room with a rocketuncher and a 6-barrel rotary cannon.


    "<strong>THREAT ANALYSIS: GREEN.</strong>" It boomed."<strong>NEUTRALIZATION OPERATION COMPLETE.</strong>" There was a robot stasis pod on one side of the room, the door having cracked open to lean against the wall at a distressing angle, and I didn''t see any other sentry bots. This one must have been activated by all the explosions, and taken it upon itself to defend this particr scrap of nowhere.


    A streak of blue lightning arced through the air, followed by the digital bark of arge dog. The sentry bot shuddered from the energy sts, and copsed face-first into a crumpled heap without ever knowing what hit him.


    "Friend_Courier, we must keep moving," ED-E floated in behind me once I became opaque again. "The underground creatures will be drawn to the noise. They will arrive soon."


    "I know," I said, prying open a panel on the deactivated sentry bot. "But we''re running low on heavy ordnance. I''m gonna need <em>something </em>if we''re gonna keep running into deathws, Marked Men, and the eight <strong>million</strong> tunnelers around here..." At least I didn''t need to add robots to that ''things to watch out for'' list. I seemed to have those well under control.


    Either way, I didn''t spend all that long scavenging. In fact, I''m surprised I was able to pick that room clean of useful supplies as quick as I did. With the distant rumble of intermittent explosions, the constant drone of ringing xons over a sick-sounding PA system, and the sounds of who knows how many unseen tunnelers echoing through the air vents, it was very hard to concentrate. And then, a few twists and turnster, it got even <em>harder</em> to concentrate.


    Tik-ik. Tik.


    "Holy shit!" I couldn''t help but yell as I ran through a wide open door, and almost fell off the edge of a tform, iling my arms stupidly to try and keep my bnce. I looked around, and instantly understood where I was: <em>the silo</em>. The room was hot in more ways than one. Not only was my Geiger counter clicking steadily, but all the walls were glowing red. A bright column of dirty orange light shone down from the open hatch in the roof illuminating the thick miasma of smoke and ash hanging in the air.


    "Scanning for possible egress points. Hold please." ED-E muttered, floating out into the center of the silo and spinning in ce. He focused his grill straight down, and then looked back at me. "The only reliable exit is through the sinkhole at the base of the silo, Friend_Courier."


    "You''ve gotta be shittin'' me..." I leaned over the edge, looking down. The whole bottom of the silo had turned into a copsed mess, with exposed rock, twisted metal, and... was that... was that a <em>building</em>? "That''s bound to be tunneler city. Are you sure?"


    "This passage will lead to the chasm. The only other open path is back the way we came."


    Ti-ik. Tik.


    "Fuck..." I muttered, leveling my rifle and heading for one of the broken catwalks. "Don''t look down, I guess." I tried to ignore the clicking Geiger counter, but I couldn''t  because the clicking I was hearing wasn''t justing from my wrist.


    "Friend_Courier! Above you!" ED-E shouted, drawing my gaze up. I was right in the middle of the silo, right before it led to a building buried in the rock. On every level of every one of the rings above my head before the hatch in the roof, I saw eyes looking back at me. Dozens and dozens of eyes attached to ck, chitinous heads with entirely too many teeth.


    "MOVE!" I shouted, snapping off a few shots as I started to run. The pulsating, clicking screeches echoed through the silo, drowning out the gunshots. ED-E sted a fewsers at the tunnelers, and I made a beeline for the building. The walls were roasted and the paint had evaporated from the missileunch, but it was my best bet of getting out of here.


    I mmed my cybeic shoulder into one of the doors, and it crumbled into splinters; I was expecting it to put up more of a fight, so I wound up falling off bnce and rolled into the hallway. Behind me, I heard the tunnelers wing or dropping their way down to me, and above me I saw ED-E floating backward, stingsers into the oing horde.


    "Get going!" I yelled at ED-E, shouldering the rifle while reaching into my duster. "I''ll deal with these!" The eyebot sped off down the hallway, and I pulled out a microfusion cell grenade  I''d put it together in a hurry, along with a few other things. I smacked the button on the top, tossed it over my shoulder, and took off after ED-E, half running, half <em>skidding</em> down the nted floor.


    Everything shook when the MF cell went off. I managed to m into the back wall and dive for cover just as the hallway was consumed in green sma fire. I couldn''t tell how many tunnelers were caught in the st, but it was big enough that the whole hallway practically copsed in on itself, sending ming chunks of walls and floor my way.


    "Which way?" I said, trying to catch up with ED-E. He zoomed off down another hallway, buzzing along without saying anything. The noise from the explosion had died off, but all around I could hear the muffled thumps of the tunnelers wing their way through the building.


    "ED-E! Slow down!" By the time I thought I''d caught up with him, he was already at the top of a staircase that looked more like a climbing wall. "Fucking... son of a..." I scrambled up the stairs, fighting for grip. And just as I reached anding (leading to <em>another</em> set of stairs), the ceiling broke open, and a tunneler leapt out of the darkness, knocking me into the wall.


    "FOR FUCK SAKE!" I grabbed hold of the tunnelers neck, trying to keep that gnashing maw as far from my face as possible. A w swiped against the side of my helmet, and I almost lost my grip... but I could punch harder. I kicked off the back of the wall, shoved the tunneler into the opposite wall, and aimed my cybeic fist right for its wide open mouth. My fist broke maybe two dozen of its teeth on the trip to back of its skull before my knuckles hit brick.


    "Stay down already!" I pulled my fist out of the new hole in its head, tossed the corpse aside and looked up at the hole in the ceiling. There was bound to be moreing soon, so I pulled out a tin can packed full of rocket explosives and wired into a jury rigged sensor module. I''d made more microfusion cell grenades, sure, but I couldn''t risk another huge explosion like before. Not if I couldn''t get away in time because I had more stairs to climb.


    I tossed the grenade into the ceiling, and was halfway up the stairs when everything shook again. I nced over my shoulder just in time to see the rest of the ceiling behind me start to give way, so I poured on the speed, trying my damndest to get in front of the rapidly copsing masonry.


    "Oh, for the love of  ED-E!" I shouted. "Where the fuck did you <strong>go</strong>, man?!" I''d lost sight of him. This was starting to be problematic, because that was when a pair of tunnelers leapt into sight right in front of me, rearing up and ready to try and rip me apart. I didn''t even try and dodge. I just kept running and shoulder-checked the beast straight into the wall.


    "I''m gettin'' a little tired of this!" I yelled, holding the thrashing mass of limbs and teeth against the wall with my metal arm. I pulled out That Gun and buried the barrel against one of its eyes. By the time I pulled the trigger and blew away half its face, the other one had leapt on my back.


    "Motherfu- AUGH!" Several rows of teeth gouged their way into my shoulder de. I dropped the tunneler in my hand and elbowed the one on my back as hard as I could. It thrashed, but the teeth were still digging into me, so I spun around and mmed back-first into the wall. The spines on the tunneler went crunch (or maybe it was the brick wall, I don''t know...), it screeched right in my ear, and finally let go.


    "I SAID!" I spun around, putting my boot against the tunnelers throat. "I! AM GETTING! SICK!" I pulled Roscoe out of its holster. "OF! THIS! <strong>SHIT!</strong>" Five roundster, and it finally stopped thrashing. I moved on, grimacing under my helmet, and clutching at my shoulder. Fuck me, that stings!


    "We''re not going to make it..." Sue spoke up softly as I made my way up <em>another </em>set of stairs. Fuck sake, how many sets of stairs are in this ce? "Are we?" The waver in her voice was still present from earlier.


    "We''ll make it," I grunted out, holstering Roscoe, grabbing a stimpack, and jamming it into my shoulder. "Where the fuck is ED-E?"


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E''s voice buzzed in my ear. "I have found the way back outside."


    "Well, that''s just fantastic," I grumbled, checking the ammo on Roscoe. "And where are you? I''ve lost track of you in this crumbling piece of shit maze." And, as if things weren''tplicated enough, I heard more tunnelers crawling through the walls. Great.


    "The roof," is all he said.


    "Motherfucker."


    The wall in front of me exploded in a shower of brickwork and ster. Another pair of tunnelers emerged, screeching and roaring and ready to eat me. I just took aim through the shower of shrapnel and emptied Roscoe into the closest one. I holstered the pistol, grabbed one of my boot knives, and rushed into the hail of debris, de first. The knife sliced between a pair of chitinous tes on the abdomen of the other tunneler, and I dug down deep until I felt bone. Or was that the floor? Yeah, that was definitely the floor.


    "Take the fuckin'' hint already!" I yelled, picking up the not-quite-dead tunneler by the neck, and throwing it into the other one. More eyes looked at me from the darkness, and more ws emerged from the hole. I shrugged the G36 into my hands and hosed them. They screeched from the muzzle shes, and I honestly think the bright lights were hurting them more than the bullets.


    "I''m through fucking around, you assholes!" I yelled, emptying the magazine. The ws had disappeared, but the eyes were still looking at me... So I shouldered the rifle. "Alright, we do it the hard way!"


    "Sheason?" Sue squeaked. "What are you doing?"


    I didn''t answer. I just grabbed two microfusion cell grenades from inside my duster, hit the buttons, tossed them into the darkness, and bolted. I figured I had maybe... 15 seconds? Maybe more, may-


    The whole building shuddered. Definitely less. It felt like the floor was going to drop out from under me, so I just kept running. Up more stairs, trying to ignore the green sma fire behind me, around a few more bends, leaping over sections of hallway that had already given way from the explosion, until finally...


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E yelled at me from the end of the hall, right in front of a door. "This way!" I kept my head down, and ran as fast as I could, straight for the door. ED-E floated up out of the way. And good thing too  the door practically splintered when I mmed into it and rolled out onto the roof. A huge cloud of dust and smoke exploded out the door behind me, and it sounded like everything inside the building copsed.


    And speaking of sounds: I couldn''t hear any more tunnelers. Either they''d been vaporized by the MF cell grenade explosions, or the floors copsing behind me had crushed them. Either would have suited me, but the silence was very, <em>very</em> wee. Contrasted nicely with the ringing in my ears.


    "Ugh..." I was lying facedown on a roof somewhere. I had no idea where, I just knew that my legs were screaming at me. I shook my head and tried to look around. Sure enough, the door I''d rushed through waspletely copsed. There was a huge cloud of smoke everywhere, too... and there was... something else...


    "Where the... fuck..." I finally looked up. I pushed off the ground, and finally understood what ED-E had meant earlier when he''d said ''chasm.''


    Gigantic rock walls rose up in every direction all around me. And it wasn''t just rock  there were buildings halfway buried in the cliffs, sticking out at odd angles. The building I was standing on was just one of dozens. It was surprisingly lit up down here. Fires were burning at the bottom of the chasm below me, and every so often I saw a pulsing red light. The sky beyond the lip of the crevasse waspletely blocked out by the still present mushroom cloud. At least it wasn''t on fire anymore.


    What really freaked me out, though, was the weather. It almost... it looked like <em>snow</em>. But that was... I reached out to grab one of the kes between my thumb and forefinger, and it was crushed instantly. It left a grey-brown smear on my fingertip.


    "Ash..." I muttered, looking around. All this ash must have been kicked up by the nuke... but I don''t <em>think</em> it was fallout. My Geiger counter wasn''t clicking, so it wasn''t radioactive, and that seemed like a good sign.


    "Alright, c''mon ED-E," I muttered, trying to take stock of everything. "We need to keep moving." As bad as The Divide had been already, I was getting that sinking sensation in my stomach again. I just knew, deep down, that things were going to get much worse before the end. I wasn''t sure HOW. I mean... I''d already identallyunched a <strong>fucking</strong> nuclear weapon today.


    Silence.


    "ED-E?" I turned to the silent, immobile robot hovering several feet away from me. I knew what wasing next. At least that exined the sinking sensation in my stomach.


    "Hopeville..." Ulysses voice growled out of ED-E''s speaker. "High Road... Ashton... Tiny cracks in the earth. Nothingpared to the road carved ahead. Before you now is the edge of The Divide. Ahead... lies <strong>your</strong> work. The History <strong>you</strong> burned in the earth. What <strong>you</strong> brought to the people here..."


    Bad to worse. This is what my life had be.

 Chapter 128: Echoes

    Chapter 128: Echoes


    "Hopeville..." Ulysses voice growled out of ED-E''s speaker. "High Road... Ashton... Tiny cracks in the earth. Nothingpared to the road carved ahead. Before you now is the edge of The Divide. Ahead... lies <strong>your</strong> work. The History <strong>you</strong> burned in the earth. What <strong>you</strong> brought to the people here..."


    "You know, I''m gettin'' really sick and tired of this," I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. I scowled, but he couldn''t really see behind the helmet. "You keep hijacking my friend like this and using him to preach at me  you''re as bad as Elijah!" I advanced on the eyebot and jabbed my finger at the speaker. "If you <em>really </em>want to talk to me so fuckin'' bad, then stop hiding behind a speaker! Let my friend go ande out in the open to talk so we can have it out face to face!"


    "Hurm." Ulysses snorted audibly. "Impatient. We will meet, Courier. When you open your eyes. See the truth."


    "Truth? What truth? What are you-" I shook my head. "No. No more. No more riddles, no more hyperbole. Just. Talk. in."


    Ulysses was quiet for several seconds.


    "<strong>You</strong> made The Divide," he finally said. "You are personally responsible for this Hell on Earth."


    I paid him back for that silence with a few seconds of my own. I didn''t know what to say. What <strong>do</strong> you say to that?


    "You... You''re nuts." I breathed out eventually, shaking my head again. "I mean... <em>look </em>at this ce!" I gestured at the chasm walls all around me, knocking away a few stray kes of ash that had clung to my arm. "How could I possibly be responsible for ANY of it?"


    "You delivered a package," Ulysses growled out. "Had marking that matched those in The Divide. Not all... but enough. Military markings. From some ce the Bear had salvaged in the West. Maybe seeing those markings reminded you of Home... made you carry it..." I racked my brain, trying to figure out what he was talking about. I''ve carried a lot of packages, done a lot of jobs. I can''t really be expected to remember them all, but I feel like this was something I <em>should </em>remember...


    "I don''t recall a package like that," I said simply. "You''re gonna have to narrow it down. You said it had markings? What was it?"


    "Machinery," Ulysses growled. "Simple on the outside. Computer parts. Inside... moreplicated. Was the only time I''d heard a machine speak in The Divide. The only machine with a voice..." That <strong>definitely </strong>sounds like something I would remember.


    "This package, I don''t... I don''t recall it." I said. Ulysses growled again.


    "It was from the West. Deep in NCR. Whether made by them or not... it came here. Through <strong>your</strong> hands. A device. Detonator. One I''d never seen before  or <em>heard </em>before. <strong>You</strong> carried that thing to The Divide. I know... because I <em>followed </em>you as you walked the road. Watched you do it. <strong>You</strong> brought it here, to themunity you built. And <strong>you</strong> are responsible for what happened after."


    "... What do you mean, what happened after?" I asked, looking around hesitantly. That sinking feeling happened to my stomach again.


    "The device opened. Started to <em>speak</em>." Ulysses said. "When it did... The Divide <em>answered back</em>. The missiles you''ve seen, buried in their silos. They exploded beneath the ground. Cracked thendscape. Sand... ash... the dead... The Divide skies became a graveyard." I stood there, still as a statue as I listened, trying toprehend. It just... it didn''t make sense.


    "Well..." I gulped, but tried to keep it quiet. "Then tell me this. If you saw this happen... how''d <strong>you</strong> survive?"


    "Should''ve died there," Ulysses said, mirroring my thoughts from earlier after surviving the nuke. "But the machines here... they saved me. Your package, and the message inside, awoke medical machines... close to the one that shadows you. They began to build themselves, and then others." He snorted out a chuckle. "Maybe they saw the g on my back. Thought I was of America... If so, then History saved me. A sign."


    "So this is revenge for nearly killing you, then." Itched on to the one thing I thought made sense. But Ulysses let out a grim chuckle.


    "Revenge? No. Not the name I''d give it. Not the name the <strong>dead</strong> would give it. Soldiers of the Bear died here. Legion, too. My brothers, once. Still dying. Both of them. All around us. None of the people that lived here survived... yet all of the West and the East, they hold on as The Divide tears them apart." Ulysses snorted out anotherugh. "Revenge isn''t the message I have for you. It''s... <em>more</em> than that... <strong>Courier</strong>."


    "I... I don''t understand." If it wasn''t revenge, then what was he after? Assuming, that is, he was telling the truth...


    "You will," Ulysses said simply. "I''ll show the Mojave, the Bear, <strong>and</strong> the Bull the way of things. How Couriers like us can <em>break</em> nations. What happened here can happen again. You''ve already proved it... what you did in <em>Ashton</em>."


    My blood went ice cold.


    "Whoa, no, no, no! I didn''t... there was no way I could know the <em>missile</em> wouldunch! I was just trying to open a fuckin'' <strong>door</strong>!"


    "Ignorance of the consequences does not excuse the action," Ulysses growled. "Like carrying the Chip to Vegas. Old World death in your hands. Pieces of the Old World like that just need someone... <em>careless</em> enough to take them where they need to go. So they can do their killing..."


    "No, you''re... you can''t possibly me me for Ashton! Hell, that  that door was wired into the console, and I bet <strong>you</strong> were the one to wire it up like that! I was just trying to open a fuckin'' <strong>DOOR</strong>, if anyone''s to me for that... for that nuke going off, it''s you!" I started really shouting now. My voice even cracked a little. I needed to get calm. Quiet down. The louder I was, the more chances there were of being found. But Ulysses... it was like he wasn''t even listening. He had something to say, and he was damn sure gonna say it.


    "What do you think you are, Courier? All those roads you walked. Those packages you carried. Think it wasn''t your choice?" Ulysses asked. "Of <em>course</em> it was your choice. You chose toe. Couldn''t let it be. It''s not in you to <em>let go</em>..." My jaw tightened at his choice of inflection. I wonder... how much did he know about the other ces I''ve been? "Came for no other reason than you were curious. Restless. Always have been. Had to know the why of it... and now? I''ll show you."


    "The why of it?" I asked, waving my arms. "No, you''re the one who needs to answer that! I don''t even get why you''re doing this! If it''s not about revenge, then <strong>why do you care</strong>?" Ulysses grunted again.


    "Themunity that was once here  and the package you brought  both had markings of... of America. You''ve seen the marks. The symbol. The Divide, the buildings, the people... all of them were built around those same markings, and it surrounded them here... markings like the g on my back. When I followed your road to The Divide those years ago, I saw the symbol I wore all around me. An Old World symbol. Strong, to survive here. Its people, just as strong. Could''ve ousted the Bear. Could''ve ousted the Bull. A... promise. Promise of something <em>better</em>..."


    A memory shed in my brain from a few weeks back: after I helped Chief Hanlon get out of the corner he''d painted himself in and leave town. My own wordsing back at me:


    "<em>Sheason Fisher is just a fuck-up. But maybe... maybe as a symbol... The Courier can do something better. The Courier can </em>do <em>better."</em>


    "Csar was right to want it dead." Ulysses continued. "NCR was right to want to rake their ws in it. Seeing it... <em>changed </em>me. Just as seeing Hoover Dam changed Csar and the NRC. Seeing it... end. It changed me, too."


    "You believed in this ce," I said, trying to somehow get it to make sense in my head. "What it used to be."


    "There was hope here. Another chance..." Ulysses sounded strange, but it was hard to tell behind all the growling. Bitter, maybe? "A new nation, stirring to life. A ce I could have set my g. Not the America of old. But somethingrger than the tribes of the East or the houses of the West. Something <em>better</em>. The Divide... could have bridged both, like Hoover Dam. Now, like the Dam, it''s too covered in blood to see what it could have been. <strong>You</strong> gave life to this ce. I followed your road here, saw The Divide. <strong>You</strong> led me here, so that <em>I </em>could see. And then, <strong>you</strong> brought it to an end."


    "So, this <strong>is</strong> revenge, then," I said, going back to what I thought made sense. "Revenge for destroying The Divide?"


    "I told you already," Ulysses growled. "My History isn''t revenge, or hate. The road that brought us both here isn''t about <strong>that</strong>. It''s about the message you carried. The one in that package, whether you knew it or not: the message that <em>one </em>can kill a nation. <em>One</em> can kill a <em>symbol</em>, and all those that gather beneath its g." Ulysses snorted. "I don''t me you for The Divide. I me you for what you made me <strong>see</strong>. Now, <em>you</em> will see what you brought to the Mojave, and <strong>that</strong> will be my message to <strong>you</strong>."


    "This..." I clutched at the side of my helmet. "This is insane, you are <strong>whacked</strong>, man."


    "The nations of the Mojave are as cracked and broken as The Divide. Its people, the same. I have walked at Csar''smand, across the East and into the West. Far enough to know that Csar''s word did not drive me. Far enough... to see The End. You''ve seen it. No Courier, whatever their g, can ignore it. Why you didn''t stay in the West. Why you wandered. There is no future in either the Bear or Bull. The Bear is diseased, barely clings to life. And the Bull..." He paused, growling again. "When the Legion reaches the sea, it will turn on itself and <strong>die</strong>. Killing one will end <strong>both</strong>. And you made me see how someone could do it. Your ignorance, carelessness... can be used with <strong>purpose</strong>."


    Realization dawned on me like I''d been hit with a truck full of ice water. No... no, he couldn''t... He couldn''t possibly...


    "Then... you learned the wrong message," I said, as levelly as I could manage. I had to be wrong. I just <em>had </em>to be wrong. There''s no way he could...


    "Really." Ulysses snorted again. "Who is to say the truth of it? You? No. No, you walked from this. Turned your back on it. Now you and others will answer for it. I''ll start with the West. Let that <strong>burn</strong>. Then... if the East falters after, I''ll bring The Divide there as well. Burn away the gs. <em>Begin again</em>."


    Oh <em>fuck</em>. He <strong>was</strong> serious. I had to find him. I had to find him <em>now </em>and put and end to this.


    "You wanted me toe to The Divide, I''m here. Now-"


    "No," Ulysses cut me off. "Your road''s not done. Haven''t walked it full yet. Not nearly enough. The way ahead and below."


    "Enough." I said, trying to disguise my apprehension. "Is that where I''m going to find you?"


    "At the end of The Divide, through the trenches and wreckage  that''s where you''ll find me. My new home, here, amongst dead men. You and that machine. Keep your eyes on the tower that cuts the horizon. I''m sure you''ll find your way. Made it this far. Not much further to go until you reach the heart of The Divide. And there... you and I, we''ll have an ending to things"


    At the far end of the canyon, easily visible from the edge of the slightly off-kilter roof, was a strangely out-of-ce structure. Partly out-of-ce because of how intact it waspared to everything else, but mostly because howrge it was. It stuck out of the side of the canyon, almost like the rock had been formed around it, and the tower stretched from the base of the canyon all the way to the top. Since it was a vaguely hexagonal concrete pir sticking out of the ground, I was immediately reminded of the Hexcrete Archipgo in the Big Empty. Several rows of red lights faded in and out of visibility, running along the entire length of the tower. It was a missile silo,rger than any others I''d seen here in The Divide.


    That had to be the temple Ulysses spoke of  the "heart" of The Divide. There was no denying his intentions now, no matter how much I wanted to.


    "How''re you holding up?" I turned to ED-E, asking with a ragged voice. He was bobbing along in the air next to me as I stood on the roof, surrounded by falling ash.


    "Better than before, Friend_Courier," ED-E stated firmly. "Fewer and fewer of my protocols are being overwritten. I believe Enemy_Courier is bing sloppy in his attempts to control me."


    "Well, that''s not much... but it''s something." I looked around, trying to find an exit off the roof. "I know what he''s nning. We have to stop him."


    "What''s he going to do?" Sue asked in a hushed whisper.


    "Ulysses is going tounch the rest of the missiles in The Divide." Sue gasped, and even ED-E backed away slightly. "I don''t know how many nukes are left, but... but..." I looked up at the mushroom cloud blocking out the sky above me. The ash was still continuing to fall, and didn''t look like it was going to let up any time soon.


    "Even oneunch will be one too many." ED-E finished my thought. I nodded, leaning against the edge of the roof.


    "Right. That means we''re on the clock if we-" I shut myself up before I could finish. Three pairs of res erupted from the canyon floor, each leaving a trail of red smoke as they burned brightly off in the distance. I grabbed the G36 and brought it to bear, looking over the edge of the roof so I could try and figure out who fired them. The bottom of the canyon was way too dark to make out any real detail, but I did see several indistinct muzzle shes, and heard the unmistakable pops and bangs of firearms in the distance.


    "Marked men..." I grumbled, keeping my rifle at the ready. A bit pointless; I was so high, I couldn''t see them, and they probably couldn''t see me. "Tunnelers too, probably, keeping each other busy. For now. We gotta move."


    Eventually, I found my way off the roof: there were a series of scaffolds and fire escapes all along the side of the building, leading down to another structure that had copsed into the side. And as I made my way down, I thought.


    I had to figure out some way to stop him, but I couldn''t really <em>do </em>that unless I figured out why <em>he </em>was <em>doing</em> this in the first ce. He''d ''exined,'' but I still didn''t understand. There had to be some reason for wanting tounch the missiles. A <em>real</em> reason. Not just... to prove a point. He had to have some kind of goal, something reasonable, something logical, something I could understand. Something real. I just... I couldn''t imagine how anyone who''d seen these weapons in action  and I knew he had, because he was <em>here in The Divide</em>  would ever be willing to use them on purpose. Even the nuttiest, craziest, most batshit sideways lunatic this side of Bem should''ve been terrified beyond imagining at the thought of unleashing the power of the Atom.


    I need it to make sense but it doesn''t make sense why doesn''t it make sense please someone make it make sense


    "Sheason," Sue squeaked, breaking my train of thought. "If you''re so worried about figuring out Ulysses'' motives, maybe you should listen to his audio logs?"


    I paused on the side of the scaffold. Had I been thinking all this out loud?


    "Yes, Friend_Courier," ED-E chimed in as he floated to my right. "You are speaking out loud."


    Well, I feel kind of stupid.


    "If I may ask, Friend_Courier," ED-E floated next to me. "Why do you need to understand? Enemy_Courier is clearly insane. If he is willing tounch the missiles, then a bullet to the back of his skull should prove sufficient to end things. Would it not?"


    "It''s probably going toe to that, yeah," I muttered. "But he''s not stupid... and I''m... I just have this nasty feeling in my gut that, whatever he''s got nned, just killing him before stopping it is only going to make things <strong>worse</strong>. I need to understand, so I can stop whatever he''s already set in motion before he murders thousands of innocent people..."


    "And then we kill him?" ED-E asked. I nodded.


    "Well, yeah. That goes without saying." I shook my head, trying to clear it, and then moved on. I had to keep moving  I''d spent far too long talking with Ulysses on the roof, so I had to make up time. Plus, I needed to find more supplies. So, if I was going to listen, I couldn''t risk staying put.


    I took one look over the edge of the catwalk, down at the canyon floor; the Marked Men were still busy fighting, but I couldn''t tell who. Didn''t really matter, as long as they were upied, I guess. I ducked into a nearby window, took cover among some rubble, and pulled out the holotapes. I downloaded them both to my Pip Boy, checked the connections sending sound to my ear, and hit y on the one marked "Y-17.16"


    "Big Empty..." Ulysses'' voice echoed in my head as I searched around for any useful supplies. "There''s something hidden there. A crater. Past wind and sand  so deep in the desert, there''s no turning back. Finding the crater was an ident. Was following the weather patterns  The Divide sky torn like that... man''s violence. Not nature."


    I crossed onto another scaffold, looking up at the howling winds, the falling ash, and mushroom cloud cking out the sky. He was certainly right about that, if nothing else... I hopped off the scaffold and into another building.


    "That violence in the sky had a source," Ulysses voice continued in my ear. "Tracked it. Like following a river current. Left the colors to make my way, like always, in case someone finds them. Learns the pattern." He paused, as if considering that for a moment. "The Courier might. When I thought sand and wind would never end... came to the crater. And there... there was an Old World facility. A weather station at the edge, still raking the sky with electricity and generators. And beyond it... saw the rest of the Old World hell there, all carved up. Like garden plots. Had to see what was there. Couldn''t leave it be. Not in my nature... like The Courier."


    I paused in my search. That... was a surprise. I thought he held "my nature" in contempt. Was he...


    "Things sleep in the Big Empty," Ulysses said. "The Brotherhood woke them up. Can''t move quiet, any more than the two-headed Bear can. And when they woke up, it was like all of history waking up at once. Almost didn''t make it out." He paused. "Almost. Left with answers I never intended..."


    There was a click in my ear, and the recording ended.


    I was eventually going to have to make my way down to canyon floor. I couldn''t see any other way to get to that missile silo and the other end of the crevasse, but for now, I was able to stay far above the ground and out of sight. There were enough copsed buildings wedged into the side of the canyon here that finding a path between them was almost trivial.


    "ED-E, keep an eye out," I said as I made my way through another building. "If you see any res, let me know."


    "Will do, Friend_Courier," ED-E bobbed in the air. I tapped a few functions on my Pip Boy and started ''.22'' holotape.


    "I walked the Great Salt Lake as Csar''s eye, then his hand." Ulysses growled. "Mongrels there. Two legs and fours. Saw the wall of New Canaan that the scavengers circled... but hadn''t the strength or fire to take. Too high, too strong." He snorted against the mic, distorting the sound momentarily. "White Legs... they were <strong>born</strong> for war. They run to it, hungry for battle... yet their hunger is to be a part of history, somethingrger. Like the Legion. As always, brought them a message from Csar. If New Canaan burns, Csar might see them..." He grunted in genuine disgust. There was no mistaking <strong>that</strong> for anything else. "Might... even the <em>chance</em> was a lie. To honor Csar  destroy the history of New Canaan, and the way they carry it. Csar respects such strength, I told them. That... that was truth. Even if ''strength'' isn''t the right word. <strong>Obedience</strong>. You must be willing to kill <strong>anyone</strong>. Children. Mothers. Elders. The weak... if these New Canaanites value the generations, that is what you must kill."


    I clenched my jaw at his words. As if I didn''t have enough reasons to despise the Legion already, this was just adding more fuel to that fire. And still, Ulysses kept talking.


    "It was like Vulpes was speaking through me. Use the night, silence, and fire to change their words to pleas... to <em>screams</em>. No need for bombs when hate will do. I..." Ulysses paused, and I thought I heard a slight falter in his voice. "I asked the White Legs to destroy a people with ancestry, going back thousands of years..." He sighed heavily. "Another death of history, lost to time..." He cleared his throat, and continued. "The New Canaanites... their civilizations was... like a hand from the past. Not history. But... maybe a past deeper, farther than that, to a ce where this... <em>God</em> of theirs really does exist. If so, then his handiwork and people belong elsewhere. Not in this ce. Another symbol, like Bear and Bull, with no meaning in the present..."


    So far, my scavenging up here had been surprisingly sessful. I''d found ammo here and there, and had even found a few grenades: a frag grenade and a pair of shbangs. I''d definitely be able to find a use for thetter, to go along with the re gun I''d found stashed in an open suitcase.


    There wasn''t much in the way of resistance, as most of the action was going on below me in the base of the canyon. If the shes were any indication, the fighting was moving back and forth in waves, but I still couldn''t tell if it was the Marked Men fighting tunnelers (or, hell, even deathws), or if it was some kind of infighting.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E chimed in, zooming up to me from around the next bend. "I think I may have found another supply cache belonging to Enemy_Courier."


    "Lead the way," I said, struggling to keep my bnce; I was making my way across a scaffold, but there were huge gaps beneath my feet everywhere I tried to nt my feet. One wrong step and I''d be falling for weeks. I eventually made my way across without incident, and followed ED-E into the building... but was thoroughly surprised by the reception waiting for me.


    DISSENTER BE DAMNED


    The words appeared on the far wall of the room, written in dried blood that had turned brown. Two dozen railroad spikes were shoved through the corpse of a Marked Man below the words, pinning him to the wall. Even leaving aside theck of skin, his body had been badly mangled: one of his arms had been torn away, and his legs below the knees were broken and torn, hanging on to the rest of the body by the thinnest of tendons.


    "Oh my..." Sue squeaked.


    "Uh... ED-E?" I asked, gulping to try and force back the bile in the back of my throat. "Are you sure this is one of Ulysses'' supply spots?"


    "To your left, Friend_Courier," ED-E said, clearly unaffected by the corpse on the wall. I turned, and sure enough, there was a blue g marker, painted above a wall safe. I was just about ready to try and crack it when I looked closer and realize that it was already open slightly. I snorted out augh... and then used one finger to cautiously slide the door open, making sure I was nowhere in view of the inside. For all I knew, it was left open as a booby trap. It''s what I would''ve done, at least.


    There was no trap, but the safe was still full. Most of it was of no consequence: a few documents, a half-burned book, a few caps, that sort of thing. But two things drew my attention: a pair of road res (the kind of red sticks that you could light by smacking the end on a hard surface), and another holotape.


    "ED-E, keep watch," I said, plugging the holotape into my Pip Boy. "I''m gonna look around, see what else is here that I can use." ED-E bobbed over my shoulder to get a better look.


    "Another audio log made by Enemy_Courier?" ED-E asked. I nodded. "Understood. I will inform you if any hostiles approach this position." He hovered his way out the window with a barely audible buzz, and disappeared in a crackle of electricity. I held back augh: he may have been invisible, but there was enough falling ash in the sky that it was obvious <em>something </em>was hovering there, discing it. I turned back to my Pip Boy and hit y.


    "The White Legs meant to show respect," Ulysses began. "Bribe me for Csar''s favor. Echoing mannerisms and words. I showed them tech caches, taught them the workings of chamber and powder. Spoke of Csar''s pride in those that used such things..." He snorted out augh. "Nothing but lies..." Iughed to myself as well. I remembered my unpleasant meeting with Caesar, and even though I''d been half dead with radiation poisoning at the time, I still clearly remember the words he said about that particr topic:


    "<em>House''s machines, and all the technology of the Old World... what do they propose? The possibility of victory without sacrifice. No blood spilled, just... rivets. That''s not an idea I want put in cirction."</em>


    In a way, I almost felt sorry for the White Legs. I mean... yeah, they were clearly raiders, and brutal even before Ulysses sank his ws in them, if these logs were to be believed. But they were being used by Legion, and would probably be discarded the moment they stopped being useful... if they hadn''t already.


    "And... and then..." Ulysses continued after a long pause, and his voice was suddenly unsteady. "They tried to honor <strong>me</strong>. Not the Legion. They brought me before the campfire one night, showed me how they... <em>changed</em> themselves. How they wore their hair now..."


    "Hair?" I asked aloud to myself "What does hair have to..." I trailed off, letting the recording continue.


    "It was like my entire dead tribe in the firelight. Teeth grinning red in the dark  eager corpses, blood-covered ghosts. They... had <em>taken</em> my <strong>braids</strong>. The way of the Twisted Hairs. As if it showed they were... <em>like</em> me... of me... while every knot in their braids spoke of raping, violence  and <strong>ignorance</strong> of what the knots meant!" He was getting very emotional, but cleared his throat, and attempted topose himself. "They thought to show respect, but they defiled it. I... I <em>lost</em> myself in trying to read the braids they wove, when I remembered they had put no meaning in it. They had no history of what it meant. They didn''t even know the insult in the twists, knots... and Dry Wells came rushing back, the White Legs circled like that... It was like looking at the dead of my tribe, reborn as ghosts. Hateful. Hungry. Bowing to Csar." Ulysses gave a defeated sigh.


    "Another history... gone," he finally said quietly. "Carried by me alone..."


    "Ah, damn it..." I''d finally reached the end of the elevated path through the buildings. The only way left was down, and from where I was standing I could practically jump down to the floor of the canyon. I could still hear some fighting off in the distance, but it was less pronounced now. Whatever was going on, it sounded like the worst of it was over. For the moment, at least.


    So, I took the only path avable, and tried to move forward. It was a lot more difficult than trying to navigate the buildings above. It was so cluttered with rocks, debris, broken buildings, and who knows what else, that it was like I was trying to hike through a junkyard. It didn''t help that the ash had piled up considerably at the bottom, gripping at my boots whenever I tried to move forward.


    "Friend_Courier!" I heard ED-E''s voice in my helmet. "Contact front!" There was a crackle of electricity, and ED-E vanished. I followed suit, pressing the button in my belt. I crept forward, rifle in my hands, waiting for the inevitable.


    I rounded a pile of rubble, and was presented with a squat building sticking out of the ground. A corner of it was copsed, and inside I could hear the sounds of gunfire. A few of the windows shed sporadically. I skirted around it, trying to avoid attracting attention, when the fighting suddenly spilled out of the hole in the wall.


    Half a dozen Marked Men emerged, a few of them in the back of the column popping off shots from their rifles as they ran. Several more Marked Men followed shortly after, and one of them let loose a torrent of rockets from another of those Red re rocketunchers. I don''t think either group saw me. At least this exined the sounds from earlier: it <em>was </em>some kind of internal conflict among the Marked Men. I guess they weren''t as unified as Ulysses believed.


    "C''mon," I whispered. "Let''s get out of here. I don''t think they''re interested in us."


    "Roger that," ED-E replied back, the sound echoing in my helmet. The cluster of Marked Men trying to kill each other moved farther and farther away from me, the sounds bing more indistinct with each step.


    "ED-E," I said, continuing to move forward. "Can you tell if there are any -" I didn''t get a chance to finish, because that was the moment I took a wrong step, and the ground gave way beneath my feet. I cried out involuntarily and tumbled backward, falling into a pit that I hadn''t seen.


    "Sheason!" Sue squeaked as we tumbled.


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E sounded off from the speaker in my helmet. "What happened? Are you alright?"


    "Yeah," I grunted, pulling myself up. "I''m fine..." I looked around, and realized that I was in <em>another building</em>. It had beenpletely buried, and it was on its side, but this wasn''t a natural cavern, or anything carved out by tunnelers. I caught a glint of something metal off in the distance, and decided to investigate, rather than immediately make my way back to the surface.


    "Are you sure?" ED-E asked, sounding a bit worried. I nodded, even though I wasn''t sure he could still <em>see </em>me.


    "Yeah, just... gimme a minute." I found the source of the metal glint: a filing cab, surrounded by rubble, and sitting next to a bedroll. It wasn''t until I saw the blue g marker on the wall that I made the connection: this must have been one of Ulysses'' hideouts.


    I shook my head. He was more nuts than I thought. This ce was <em>underground</em>, for fuck sake! Either way, I started rummaging around. If I was right, I''d find another one of his audio logs around here some... there we go. First ce I looked  the filing cab  and there it was, practically wrapped up and tied in a bow. The pieces of this puzzle were starting to make a little sense, but I still felt like I was missing something important. With any luck, this would be thest one I''d need.


    I plugged it in my Pip Boy and hit y as I looked around to see if there was anything else I could scrounge that might be useful.


    "Have you ever wanted to speak to history, just to know the <em>why</em> of it?" Ulysses asked in my ear, making me pause. The why of it? "I don''t. Not any longer." He coughed, clearing his throat. "There''s old stories about Gods and Men, past history, into myth. Where the Gods, they''re like... like <em>children</em>. Petnt, and cruel. Those were the voices of the Big Empty. The Past. Couldn''t leave well enough alone. Had to ask. Had to ask the why of it. Their answers were... <em>madness</em>."


    I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of dj vu.


    "They wielded power, stronger than me. Would take a hundred Elijah''s... someone tougher than him <strong>or</strong> I to best them in their dome." That small, unintentionalpliment was enough to snap me out of it. I went back to searching for supplies while I listened. "They didn''t know why they were there, what had led to that point. Their names  like serpents devouring themselves, cannibalizing their own thoughts..."


    He must have figured out the recursion loop on his own, without talking with Mobius. Then again, Mobius didn''t exactly have the firmest grip on his own memory, so who knows if Ulysses and Mobius had spoken or not. While I thought to myself, listening to him speak, I gripped the jagged, uneven walls leading back up to the surface, and started to climb.


    "When all seemed lost, thought it was the end... my <em>anger</em> gave me strength to ask them myst question..." He continued. "Who are you, that do not know your history?" I almost lost my grip. Hadn''t he asked <em>me</em> that same question when I arrived? "And... they <em>awoke</em>. For a short time. The g you wear, they said. We remember. America. It wasn''t just a g to them. It was a ce. An idea they had cared for, once. They told me what it was like to grow in that world... all they had done to lift it up... protect it..." Ulysses paused for a long time, and I finally managed to pull myself back up to the surface.


    "They... didn''t know it was gone," He said finally. "And... yet, they had cared. Once. Before forgetting their history. As they were talking... kept seeing the Courier''s shadow behind them. Giving each of their words weight. History cast aside... a home, left behind. I listened." So did I. "I asked. Was there anything left? Anything that still carries America''s voice? And they told me I had already been there. I... and <em>one other</em>. Walking right out of history, deeper than we knew. They told me what lies in the Heart of The Divide. What can be found there. The words to awaken it... and the one to speak them."


    The recording ended with a click. I shook my head, and picked up the pace. It was worse than I thought. His obsession with ''History,'' trying to find meaning in everything I did, and his utter disdain for those who took symbols without understand the history behind them... This really <em>was</em> just about proving a point! He wasn''t looking for anything logical or rational. He was going to make the world burn, just to <em>prove a point</em>!


    I clenched my jaw, and steeled myself. There was one piece of good news in all this, however: if I was right, then he was going to wait for me. He wouldn''t even <em>try</em> tounch the missiles until I met him face to face. He was making it about me, and I could use that to my advantage to stop him...


    I just hope I''m right.

 Chapter 129: Abaddon

    Chapter 129: Abaddon


    "Damn..." I grumbled, looking straight up. "Not gonna get up that way..." I''d been trying to get to the tower at the far end of the canyon, and right now it seemed like I was stuck. A gigantic copsed building was blocking my path from one end of the canyon to the other. Even on its side, it must have been several stories high. The parts of the wall that weren''tpletely vertical were angled so steeply that even if I <em>could </em>grab hold, I''d just be hanging upside down. But it''s not like there was anything I could use as a handhold anyway...


    "You know, I think ED-E might have a point." I said, moving away from the wreckage.


    "How''s that?" Sue asked.


    "Well, he mentioned earlier about getting a grappling hook or some climbing rope," I said. "That kind of equipment coulde in handy right now."


    "Given up on the jetpack, then?" Sue asked, unable to hold back a soft electronic giggle.


    "Sort of," I shrugged. "I''m gonna go back to the first idea: <em>rocket boots</em>!"


    A heavy silence hung in the air as I made my way along the edge of the building.


    "Well?" I finally spoke up. "Aren''t you going to tell me that rocket boots are dangerous and impractical like the jetpack?"


    "Why would I do that?" Sue seemed genuinely confused. "I''m fairly certain the Think Tank were working on a project like that, back when they still had bodies." I stopped dead in my tracks, thinking about that for a moment... and then nodded.


    "Okay, yeah. I can see that. I guess once you rewrite the physicalws of the universe several times when making a teleporter, then rocket boots should be a walk in the park."


    "Don''t you mean a flight in the park?" I actually burst outughing at herment. I couldn''t help it, but I managed to quiet myself down before attracting too much attention.


    "Sure, let''s go with that," I shook my head, sending a small cloud of ash flying, and let out onest chuckle. "Great, now I''m gonna have ''Danger Zone'' stuck in my head all day..." I didn''t understand why I was cracking so many jokes. Maybe I was just bing numb to everything going on... or maybe I was cracking jokes <em>because</em> I was cracking. There''d certainly been enough evidence of <em>that</em> over thest several months. Hell, I''d always heard that crazy people never knew they were crazy, so for all I knew I''d already slipped into madness long ago and gonepletely nuts without realizing.


    Ah well. Nothing I can do about it now. Nothing to do except keep moving.


    "Alright, where the fuck is ED-E?" I asked, looking around. "We''ve got to see if we can find some way around this copsed building to get to the temple... silo... whatever it is." I couldn''t see ED-E, and I couldn''t hear him either. Had he gone invisible? Why couldn''t I hear his anti-gravity thrusters?


    A few intermittent pops in the distance drew my attention to the east, and I suddenly decided that turning transparent was probably a good idea. The sounds of gunfire hade and gone, speaking of some kind of conflict among the Marked Men that I didn''t understand, but was d about either way. Every time I heard the sounds ofbat, it was like a shot of adrenaline to my system keeping me alert and awake.


    As it happened, ED-E wasn''t invisible after all. He was maybe 50 or so yards away, hovering behind a pile of rubble, looking at a spot on the ground. I clicked my belt buckle to turn myself opaque again when I got close enough... and then that sinking sensation took hold in the pit of my stomach. What is he <em>looking </em>at?


    "ED-E?" I asked,ing to a stop next to him. He didn''t say anything. He just kept staring at the pile of scrap metal on the  no. Wait, hang on. That''s not just a pile of scrap... that''s the wreckage of an eyebot. I rested a hand against ED-E chassis and gave him a shake. "Hey. You awake?"


    ED-E didn''t answer. At least, not with his <em>own</em> words. There was a click, letting me know that a recording was about to y, followed swiftly by... <em>music</em>? It was filled with static, sounding an awful lot like the radio transmissions from Mr. New Vegas before House''s death took him off the air. But that was definitely the sound of trumpets apanied by someone singing.


    <em>Yippie-yaaaay!</em>


    <em>They''ll be no weddin'' bells for today!</em>


    <em>Cuz I got spurs, that jingle-jangle-jingle! (Jingle jangle!)</em>


    <em>As I go ridin'' merrily along! (Jingle jangle!)</em>


    <em>And they sing, ''oooooh, ain''t you d you''re single?'' (Jingle jangle!)</em>


    <em>And that song ain''t so very far from wrong! (Jingle ja-</em>


    The music was abruptly cut off by the sound of a gunshot and a rifle round snapping metal. The sound warped and twisted into something iprehensible, distorted by too much digital static. There was a click, and ED-E went silent once more.


    "What  what <em>was</em> that?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.


    "That was..." ED-E continued staring down at the eyebot wreckage. "That was when I... when the original..." His voice was cracking, and there was definitely a noticeable and worrying digital nging to the sound.


    "ED-E... listen, you -" I began, reaching a hand out.


    "I am not ED-E," he said sharply, cutting me off, still looking down at the eyebot wreckage. "The original ED-E was destroyed years ago. A .308 caliber rifle round was fired at the primary stabilizing jets. The internal motivator exploded from the impact, destroying the maic memory core, wiping away all traces of the original."


    I looked back down at the eyebot wreckage. The metal was scarred and badly mangled, but even covered by the thinyer of ash... I saw something. Underneath the twisted half of a license te: a hole just big enough to have been caused by a rifle. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or...


    "C''mon, ED-E. You don''t know that." It was too much of a coincidence. It couldn''t be...


    "I am not ED-E," he repeated, continuing to stare at the wreckage. "I am just a clone. An ersatz mnemonic. A copy of the original scanned by machines and produced from an assembly line. I... I... I..." He was starting to stammer, like a broken record. I had to snap him out of this  I needed an ally, not a basket case.


    "ED-E! Listen to me!" I grabbed his chassis on either side of the speaker, and spun him around in midair until he was looking at <em>me</em>, and not the wreck on the ground. "I''m gonna say something very important, and it''s very, <em>very</em> important that you listen to me. Can you do that?"


    He didn''t say anything, but I was holding onto him tight enough that he wasn''t going anywhere, and his various antennae were still twitching, so I took that as a good sign.


    "It doesn''t matter where you came from," I continued. "<em>Maybe</em> you weren''t the ED-E built by Whitley, and <em>maybe</em> you were built by the machines here. Who cares! It doesn''t matter!"


    "Does it not?" ED-E shifted in my grip, but I held firm and shook my head.


    "No. It doesn''t. Because I know <strong>you</strong>, and I''ve seen those other eyebot ED-E clones. You''re not one of them  you''re so much <strong>more</strong>. You''re the one I found and fixed in Primm. The one who''s stuck by me through thick and thin, through all the madness in the Mojave. You''re the one I can always count on..."


    "But still just a copy..." ED-E muttered.


    "Maybe you were," I said, leaning in to rest the top my helmet against his speaker. "But you''re definitely not just a copy anymore. If you were, then you''d be talking in that stilted sing-song, just like all the other eyebots in The Divide. But you''ve grown beyond what you were when you were created  whenever that might have been - and turned into something unique."


    "Unique?" ED-E asked softly. I nodded. "What... what <em>am</em> I, Friend_Courier?"


    "You''re ED-E  <em>my</em>ED-E. Not who you were, or what you remember, but who you <em>are</em>. Right here. Right now. And that''s all that matters to me." I smiled behind my gas mask, and I almost wished that I could take my helmet off so he could see, but I was being truthful and sentimental, not suicidal. "You''re my friend, ED-E. And you always will be. Nothing''s ever gonna change that."


    "I..." ED-E began, with the sounds of drives inside his chassis whirring and clicking away. "Thank you... I am sorry, I was... Thank you, Friend_Courier. I am indeed fortunate to call you my friend."


    There was a very brief silence. And then it was broken in the most inappropriate way possible.


    "Now kiss!" Sue squealed. I hung my head and sighed, while ED-E drifted free of my grip, howling with digitalughter.


    "Thank you, Sue..." I sighed again, and reached up to rub my temple, only to remember that my helmet was in the way. "You just <em>had </em>to make it weird, didn''t you?"


    "Me, make it weird?" Sue said over ED-E''sughter. "You''re the one fostering the bromance of the ages over here, Fisher!" Yep. That did it. I couldn''t help butugh, and Sue joined us as well. And, as it happens, I was wrong: things were about to get <em>slightly </em>weirder. As ED-E was floating around me, I heard a click, and another recording began to y:


    "<em>You can be my wingman anytime!" </em>the voice issued out of ED-E''s speaker before clicking off again.


    "Bullshit," I replied, finishing off the quote with a chuckle. "You can be mine." Yep. Definitely going insane. I shook it off.


    "Alright, enough fuckin'' around," I said. "We''ve got to keep moving." As if to punctuate the thought, a few more scattered gunshots echoed through the canyon from somewhere off in the distance. "Have you been able to find any way around this copsed building blocking our way?"


    "I believe so," ED-E floated past my head, and I fell in behind him. "I was scanning for potential routes when I..." He paused, but kept moving forward. "...became distracted. Initial radar scans suggest the quickest route to the other side of the copsed structure will be through a passage in the canyon wall."


    "Wait, through <em>there</em>?" I asked, pointing at the half of a copsed building ED-E was floating towards. It was buried into the side of the canyon, and the only thing I could see that might lead deeper was an open doorway that was practically pitch ck. "That''s going to be filled with tunnelers! Are you sure that''s the safest way to get to the other side?"


    "I did not say safest, Friend_Courier." ED-E rified. "It will merely be the fastest."


    "Fair enough..." I muttered, grabbing the re gun and making sure it was loaded. How many res did I even <em>have </em>anyway?


    "I keep telling you, Friend_Courier," ED-E said as the pair of us made our way up the rubble and into the building. "You need to invest in a grappling hook. We could avoid situations like this entirely."


    The deeper we ventured into the ruins, the more I was reminded (rather unsettlingly) of the copsed tunnels between Hopeville and the High Road. ED-E and I had barely gone 20 feet into the structure before turning a corner and being plunged into absolute darkness. It hadn''t been all that light up in the canyon, being lit by a smattering of fires, but it was so dark in here that it wouldn''t have made any difference at all if I''d just closed my eyes.


    I blinked, and the terrain around me was bathed in green. I was still in a building of some kind, surrounded by crumbling concrete and scorch marks. ED-E was buzzing along ahead of me, apparently knowing exactly which way to go. Up ahead was another patch of darkness that even my nightvision couldn''t prate.


    "ED-E," I whispered, trying to keep myself as quiet as possible. "You tracking any movement?"


    "Negative, Friend_Courier." ED-E''s voice replied next to my ear. "Preliminary scans indicate arge cavern, approximately 30 meters ahead."


    "Howrge?" I asked. "Large enough to have been caused by tunnelers?"


    "Unknown," ED-E responded sheepishly. "The scan indicates that it isrger than any other structure we have encountered thus far in The Divide."


    "Perfect..." I grumbled, checking my ammo again. We pressed on, and the walls around me began to change. Concrete gave way to rock and soil. And then... I was suddenly reminded of the giant ant tunnels beneath the Nellis Air Base. The ground beneath my feet became soft and squishy, like the secreted resin of those ant tunnels. Were there giant ants here in The Divide as well?


    "I''ve got a bad feelin'' about this..." I said as the tunnel finally widened. I looked up, and realized that ED-E wasn''t kidding. The roof of this cavern was so high, that not even my nightvision could illuminate it. And <em>that </em>meant that I''d stumbled into something truly massive. "Still no sign of movement?"


    "Not yet." ED-E said simply, hovering along. "I am detecting an increase in the ambient temperature..."


    "Yeah, I can tell," I said, suddenly wishing I could wipe my brow. The deeper we went, the hotter this cavern had be. It wasn''t like the heat from the nuclear explosion before  it was like the sweltering, humid heat of a steam room, and I was starting to sweat like a pig in this armor. "Any idea what''s causing it?"


    "Unknown. Based on the scattered pockets of steam and poison gasses in the chamber, it could be caused by geothermal vents, but... we are in the wrong part of the for that..."


    "Wonderful..." That was a whole new can of worms. This helmet had an air filter, and was able to keep me safe from any radiation in the area, but there wasn''t a ready supply of oxygen if the breathable air decided to vacate the premises. Then, images of the poisonous Red Cloud in the Sierra Madre shed in my head. "Can you tell if it''s mmable?" ED-E paused and turned in midair to look at me.


    "Yes, but the pockets of mmable gas are miniscule, and mostly concentrated near the base of the cavern, roughly 50 meters below us." ED-E said, apparently having figured out why I was asking. "There is little chance of ignition if the me is near the roof, Friend_Courier."


    "Well then." I held the re gun high above my head, pointing it where I thought the ceiling was (I still couldn''t see it), and fired. There was a bright sh that threatened to blind me, and the re sailed high in the air, leaving a trail of smoke behind. And suddenly, there was enough light for me to see where I was.


    It looked like I was inside arge pyramid. The roof was made up of dozens of angr shapes, because all the surfaces above me were the sides of copsed buildings, all propping each other up. The re hung in the air near the roof, doing a decent job of providing illumination. The windows of the copsed buildings all lit up from the re, and I looked down to see that, yes, the floor was covered in... <em>something</em>. I couldn''t tell what it was, exactly. Maybe a type of secreted resin (like in the ant tunnels), but I could at least tell that it coated the ground beneath my feet fairly evenly.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E said, floating over to a nearby wall. "Look." I made my way over to ED-E, and tried to ignore the tightening in my stomach...


    "What is..." I trailed off, not entirely sure what I was looking at, at first. Arge pile of resin had clustered inside the window of one of the buildings, and nestled inside that pile were several orbs: maybe half a dozen or so. My eyes widened and I started to slowly back away when they began to glow  not reflections from the re above my head, but glowing from <em>within </em>by a very familiar bioluminesence. A shadow started moving inside the orb, causing the soft glow to flicker momentarily...


    <em>Eggs</em>. These were <em>eggs</em>! I looked around, and saw that every window in this cavern was exactly the same. One by one, the orbs began to light up... and that''s when I looked up again, and realized that those windows above my head definitely did <strong>not</strong> have any ss. The glow was just <strong>more eggs</strong>. The must have been thousands of the damn things in here!


    "I am detecting movement," ED-E said, grabbing my attention. "Multiple signals."


    "We have to get out of here," I said. "Now. Which way?"


    "It -" ED-E began, but was cut off by sounds from all around. I spun around, trying to figure out where it wasing from. Growls and screeching and ws raking the walls, steadily growing in volume until it was unmistakable: tunnelers. Lots of tunnelers on the way. I reached into my duster and reloaded the re gun.


    "C''mon, which way?!" I practically shouted, not even bothering to whisper anymore. ED-E bobbed in the air, and zoomed off following the edge of the building. I kept pace behind, keeping the re gun at the ready.


    The ground exploded in front of me, and a thrashing mass of ws and teeth burst out of the ground. I fired the re gun without thinking, and it howled in pain as the burning re caught it in the side of the face. What I hadn''t counted on was the <em>other </em>tunnelering up right behind the first, leaping over the trashing body and hurling itself through the air straight at me.


    "FUCK!" I ducked, diving forward under the leaping tunneler. I think a w must have clipped me in the arm on the way past or something, because the impact caused me to drop the re gun. I couldn''t think about that, though. I didn''t have time. I just rolled back onto my feet, and ran straight for ED-E.


    "Friend_Courier!" he said, firing aser st that cut through the air above my head. "This way!" I tried to ignore the screeching all around me. I reached in my duster and pulled out a pair of road res just as a cluster of glowing eyes emerged out of the darkness up ahead. I knocked off the ends and smacked them both at once. Plumes of red fire emerged out of the end, and I held both of the burning sticks at arms length.


    A mass of toothy faces with entirely too many eyes stared at me, moving in the darkness. Every time I moved a re close to them, they would start to back away... so I waved the brightly burning sticks at them, hoping it would be enough to ward them off. I moved forward cautiously, brandishing the res like a caveman holding a burning tree trunk trying to scare off a saber-tooth tiger.


    "ED-E, please tell me the exit is close by..." I said, looking around to try and find out where he''d gone. Anotherser st cut through the air, burning just as brightly as the res in my hand, and the tunnelers screeched, recoiling from the light. Off in the distance, I saw the movement of yet more tunnelers pouring into the cavern from fuck-all knows where.


    "One hundred meters ahead!" ED-E shouted, firing hisser again. "This way!" With that, he sped off, over to one of the buildings at the far end of the cavern. Between me and that exit, however, was a sea of moving chitin so thick it could''ve practically been carpet.


    "ED-E! Wait!" I yelled, waving the res frantically to keep the tunnelers encircling me at by. They were staying just outside the circle of light, growling and snarling and slobbering out of their bifurcated jaws, and if I didn''te up with something quick, then they''d be ripping me to shreds before I could grab any other weapons.


    I backed up to the wall, and threw one of the res at the monsters; they shrieked briefly, and retreated from the still burning stick. The circle surrounding me that the tunnelers refused to cross was slightlyrger now... and if I could just...


    I waved thest re in my hand furiously, trying to distract them from the fact that I was reaching into my duster again. They howled and snapped, and didn''t suspect a thing when I pulled out the shbang, knocking the pin away with my thumb, and tossing it into the cluster of monsters. I shut my eyes as tightly as they would go, gritting my teeth to brace for the inevitable.


    <strong>BANG!</strong>


    I went deaf. When I opened my eyes (having turned the nightvision off) there was still a lingering cloud of white phosphor from the shbang, and the writhing mass of body parts were thrashing furiously  and, more important, <em>blindly</em><em><strong>. </strong></em>I tossed the still burning re in my hand at one of the tunnelers, grabbed my G36, and ran, leaping up to nt my foot on its face.


    ED-E said the exit was a hundred meters away, and I''m almost certain that for ny-nine of those, I didn''t touch the ground. I half ran, half leapt from body to body, crossing the distance in leaping strides over the disoriented tunnelers. As I ran, I popped off shots from my rifle, hoping that the muzzle sh would keep those tunnelers at bay that weren''t already blind. As I ran, ws and tails thrashed at my legs, threatening to knock me off bnce, but I just kept going until finally ED-E was in sight, silently sting at more tunnelers with hisser.


    If someone had told me they''d done what I just did (running over a carpet of tunnelers as they all thrashed about blindly underfoot, threatening to slice me up with eyes on my man sd), I''d have called them one of those big lying liars who lie. But if my excursion in the Big Empty has taught me anything, it''s that my life took a sharp left turn at 4th and bananas long ago, and never looked back.


    I jumped off thest one, rolled against the ground, and got back on my feet just in time to m my shoulder against the opposite wall. When I looked back, the tunnelers closest to me were starting to get back on their feet - and, rather worryingly, I saw plumes of fire off in the distance. I couldn''t focus on that, so I just backed up, emptying the G36''s magazine into the tunnelers with one hand, and grasping at the wall behind me with the other, hoping I could find the exit.


    My fingers wrapped around the edge of a door frame, and I caught the end of ED-E''s antennae disappear out of the edge of my vision. So I slung the empty rifle over my shoulder, grabbed thest of my microfusion cell grenades, and tossed it over my shoulder as I rushed into the open door, hoping it would lead me absolutely anywhere else.


    The ground shook beneath my feet, and the ringing in my ears started to dim just in time to hear a massive fiery explosion roaring behind me, clearly getting bigger rather than smaller. As I ran down the slightly off-kilter hallway in the building, trying desperately to follow ED-E, I nced over my shoulder just in time to see the doorframe I''d just left being consumed by greenish-orange fire. The howls and wails of tunnelers being cooked alive were briefly heard before being drowned out by more fire.


    So I ran. I just kept running, trying to keep ahead of the ever growing backdraft behind me, and ignoring just how much the building was shaking under my feet. I honestly don''t know how long I was running, because I was way too focused on keeping ED-E in sight and running fast enough to keep ahead of the fire threatening to turn my ass into crispy bacon to worry about anything else.


    The floor eventually stopped shaking under my feet. The roar of screeching tunnelers and explosive fiery death simmered down into nothing, and I finally slowed down, leaning against the wall to try and catch my breath. I looked behind over my shoulder just as a cloud of ash and dust sted me in the face from the hall I''d just left, and the walls of said hall copsed into a pile of filthy rubble.


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E said, and I couldn''t help but notice that his voice was still slightly muffled. If this shit keeps up, I''m gonna have permanent hearing damage before long. "Are you alright?"


    "Yeah, I''m..." I gasped, suddenly feeling very, <em>very</em> tired. "I''m fine..." I clutched at my helmet, and looked around uncertainly. "There''s just... there''s just one thing that''s slightly worrying me."


    "What?" both ED-E and Sue said simultaneously. I looked around, a heavy silence filling the air as I tried to figure out how best to phrase this:


    "Where the <em>hell</em> are we?"


    As it happened, we were in one of those clusters of buildings I''d seen copsed into one another in that giant cave of awful, only thankfully devoid of any tunnelers. The interioryout of these buildings had smashed together to such an extent that it felt more like abyrinth designed by someone with a pathological hatred of sense and logic.


    "Okay, I have to ask..." I said, following ED-E as he led me outside. "Why the fuck did that explosion get so huge?" As I spoke, I took the time to reload my rifle and discovered with a sense of disquiet that I only had about 20 rounds left.


    "Sulfur dioxide," ED-E said simply, as if that exined everything.


    "Huh?" I asked, shuffling between a particrly narrow piece of rubble while ED-E just floated above it.


    "Theposition of the poison gas flooding into the base of the chamber consisted primarily of carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide, hydrogen chloride, and hydrogen sulfide." ED-E rattled off. "Two of those four gasses are extremely reactive and highly mmable. Once the microfusion cell exploded, the copse of that chamber was inevitable."


    "Copsed? Well, shit..." I said with a half hearted chuckle. "If that''s true, then I wonder if all those eggs got destroyed in the process? What do you think?"


    Silence.


    "ED-E?" I asked, realizing that I''d just passed him, and he was now looking at a wall. "What are you..." When I backtracked to find out what he was looking at, I suddenly became aware that this specific section of wall, filthy and ruined as it was, had something very familiar: a poster. There was arge gash through the middle, but it was unmistakably another one of those RALPHIE the Robot posters. ED-E clicked, and a recording began to y.


    "Next week on RALPHIE the Robot''s Incredible Odyssey!" I heard a bombastic announcer voice say with just a bit too much forced jollity. What I hadn''t expected was the music apanying it. The same tinny, patriotic marching music ED-E would asionally y whenever things were about to turn violent created a fitting backdrop for this audio drama.


    "RALPHIE, hurry!" pleaded the voice of a small boy. "If mean old General Winters catches you, you''ll never make it home!" That''s about when I heard something that I hadn''t heard in quite a while: a series of beeps and whistles, like what I used to hear when ED-E spoke. But apparently, this didn''t mean anything, because it just sounded like gibberish to me. And once the beeping died down, the little boy spoke up again. "No! RALPHIE, fly far! Fly fast!"


    "Tune in next Saturday for the exciting conclusion!" The bombastic announcer practically yelled. "Only on Vault-Tec Channel 9!"


    "ED-E?" I heard a familiar voice after a slight pause. It was Whitley. "What are you doing in here all alone? And who left all these old videos ying?" Whitley chuckled softly. "Come on. Let''s get you into your recharge bay. We''ve got a big day tomorrow..."


    There was a click, and ED-E and I were left in silence for a few moments. Cautiously, I reached out toy a hand against ED-E''s chassis.


    "You alright, man?" I asked. ED-E bobbed against me silently for a while.


    "He never made it," ED-E finally said, continuing to stare at the poster. "RALPHIE... never made it. The series ended before RALPHIE could make it home." ED-E swiveled around and out from under my hand to look at me. "ED-E, the... the real... the first one. He was like RALPHIE, and never made it home, either. He never made it to Navarro."


    "Is that what you want to do?" I asked. "Do you want to go home?"


    ED-E didn''t reply at first. He looked down, swiveled in ce to look at the poster again, and then looked back at me.


    "I already am home, Friend_Courier," he said, surprising me somewhat. "I do not need to be shackled to the fates of a fictional eyebot or my progenitor. Neither seeded in their goals. My ce is right here, with you." ED-E bobbed in ce, like a nod. "Yes, Friend_Courier. I <em>am</em> home."


    "I..." For a few moments, I was rendered speechless. I was so touched, I didn''t quite know what to say. Again, I momentarily wished I could take off my helmet so ED-E could see the broad smile stering my face "I love you, man."


    "Come on," ED-E bobbed off to the side. "We still have a long road ahead. But we can get to the end if we work together." I nodded, stepping in behind him as he floated away.


    "Yeah... I guess you could say we''ve got to fly far and fly fast if we want to get to the end of The Divide, right?" I said with augh, ED-E joining in shortly after. He sped off ahead, bobbing along with the RALPHIE theme ying in his wake.


    "So, will you two just make out already?" Sue asked, just as soon as ED-E was out of earshot. "Or are you just going to keep exchanging longing nces in the moonlight?"


    "Oh, hush." I said, unable to stifle thest little bit ofughter.

 Chapter 130: Suicide March

    Chapter 130: Suicide March


    I gave the door a gentle shove.


    <strong>BANG!</strong>


    The wind must have caught it or something, because it flew open, depositing several handfuls of disced ash into the air, and hit the opposite wall with a loud crash. I walked through the open door to try and get my bearings: I was now outside, obviously, on the partially destroyed section of a building half buried in the cliff face. The walls and ceiling had been ripped away, revealing me to be much closer to the gigantic tower at the end of the crevasse. Pipes, girders, and other pieces that had once been structurally integral were twisted and ripped away, sticking out of the broken walls and floors at odd angles.


    "Right," I said aloud, the hum of ED-E''s anti-grav repulsors providing aforting background noise. "That''s where we''re gonna find Ulysses. Now we''ve just got to figure out how to get there..." The building we''d entered the tunneler-infested cliff to get around was quite a ways off to my left, but this part of the canyon was littered with copsed buildings and twisted wreckage. It was like I was looking at a wheat field made entirely out of jagged metal, the broken and sharpened ends of pipes, and crumbling concrete.


    "Wow." Sue said, a bit awestruck. "Now <strong>that</strong> is a fall..."


    "Any suggestions on how we can get to the temple, ED-E?" I asked, holding onto the edge of a half-broken windowsill to aid in surveying thendscape.


    Silence.


    I mentally cursed myself out with every obscenity I knew. Cautiously, I backed away from the edge, grimacing under my helmet and gripping the G36 reflexively before turning to face the now still and silent ED-E. For a while, neither of us said anything.


    "Well?" I growled out, breaking the silence. "I know you''re in there, Ulysses." A satisfied ''Hurm'' issued from ED-E''s speaker.


    "Thought that explosion - that building falling deep in The Divide  might have been your work." Ulysses said simply. I was confused for a moment, until I looked up. A dirty great cloud of reddish-orange smoke (illuminated from below) was billowing out from a spot above the canyon edge. I did the math in my head, and it was... yeah, I could believe that was the result of that tunneler cavern copsing. Maybe.


    "Yeah? So what?" I asked, circling around the possessed ED-E; the speaker followed me. Ulysses grunted out a single curtugh. Or maybe he was clearing his throat. I couldn''t really tell.


    "Knew it wouldn''t kill you. Maybe close... I knew you''d survive... but no need to go any farther." Before I could question, Ulysses suddenly made ED-E start floating up and away from me. "You''ve brought me what I need  that <em>machine</em> with you. Sealed in the Hopeville silo. Needed someone to unlock it... bring it <em>Home</em>. Now, the signal is strong enough... so there''s no need for you to carry it any more. I can call your <em>machine</em> to <strong>me</strong>."


    "Whoa! Hey!" I yelled, a panic starting to tug at the back of my head and getting steadily stronger. "There''s no need for that! It''s me you want, remember? There''s no need to -" I leapt forward halfway through speaking, trying to get a grip on ED-E, but failed. The eyebot flew swiftly above me, far, <em>far</em> out of reach. "No! Let him go! It''s me you want! Me! He''s got nothing to do with this!" I jumped several times, but it was useless. The eyebot continued to stare at me.


    "It is part of The Divide." Ulysses said, and I finally stopped jumping up and down. "Whatever use you had for it is nothingpared to its primary function. And it shares our history."


    "No, <strong>he</strong> doesn''t!" I yelled, putting emphasis on the word. "You''re not taking ED-E from me!"


    "But it is already done. The <em>machine</em> you brought is mine now. It''sing home." Ulysses paused, and must have picked up on my white-knuckle hatred because he decided to goad me further: "I''ll reduce it to <strong>parts</strong>. Just enough to function... to be <em>aware</em> of what''s happening. <em>It</em> is inconsequential  what is <em>inside</em> is all that matters. All the machines here, made of wreckage from The Divide, and all that was brought here. Inside its frame, it carries the message <strong>you</strong> brought here... and it''ll do what it was programmed to do: whatever it can to go <strong>home</strong>. The giants here will listen. I''ll bring The Divide to your home. Let its g burn, just like you let The Divide burn."


    "No, you <strong>won''t</strong>," I said, trying to hide the waver in my voice with rage. "I''ll <strong>stop</strong> you. I''ll save ED-E, I''ll do whatever I can to keep the missiles fromunching, and I''ll save the people in the wastnd from your madness. Because no matter what you throw at me, no matter what you put in my way, no matter how hard you try or where you hide, you can''t <strong>stop</strong><strong>me</strong>!" I was shaking all over, and Ulysses was silent for a solid minute, keeping ED-E above me and out of reach.


    "What do you think you <strong>are</strong>, Courier?" Ulysses asked simply. "Do you think yourself a hero? A... <em>savior</em>?" He spit out the word like it didn''t taste right on his tongue, and he scoffed. "No... no, you are no savior. Your talents lie <em>elsewhere</em>." When I didn''t press the issue, he continued. "The truth is, Courier, that you are nothing more than a <strong>weapon</strong>. A tool, fit only to destroy. The same as <strong>me</strong>."


    "I... I''m nothing like you," I said, as firmly as I could manage. I couldn''t manage it very well, because I kept hearing Benny''s words from that dream so long ago echoing over and over again in my mind:


    "<em>You''re a weapon, Courier. You are bing a person of mass destruction. And you''ll need to be, if you''re going to survive theing storms."</em>


    "Really. I came to terms with what I am a long, long time ago," Ulysses growled back. "When will <em>you</em>?" He scoffed again. "It takes a strong man to deny what''s right in front of him. It''s time you stop lying to yourself: none of this would have happened if you had just <strong>stopped</strong>. You could have turned away at any time, and gone back home. But on you marched, and for what? Because you had to make onest delivery... and that''s why I <strong>knew</strong> you''de, Courier. Couldn''t stay away. It''s who you are." Ulysses paused, as if to let that sink in, and then said onest thing:


    "Big Mountain ess code... Ulysses. Command override... <em>Navarro</em>."


    Everything happened at once, and I didn''t have time to react. The dish on the top of ED-E''s chassis that he''d been using to unlock the various dish shaped receivers lit up and crackled with blue lightning  just as a red glow materialized from hisser. There was a sound like thunder, and it was like I was run over by a truck. I felt myself get thrown backward, crashing into the wall near the door with a heavy thud, and I was briefly dazed.


    "SHEASON!" I made out Sue''s scream through the fog and haze in my mind. "He''s getting -"


    "ED-E!" I yelled, scrambling to my feet as quick as I could to run after the eyebot... but it was useless. By the time I started running, he was already far out of reach. By the time I screeched to a halt at the edge of the building, grabbing hold of one of the broken pipes to keep myself from falling off, ED-E was just a tiny glinting speck in the distance.


    He silently sped off, flying with an intense speed and purpose straight for Ulysses temple.


    Sue and I didn''t say anything for a very long time. I don''t know what was going on in Sue''s digital mind, but I was... Ulysses words had cut me deep. A lot deeper than I wanted to admit, even to myself. I was lost in my thoughts as I tried to navigate the twisted and brokenndscape, trying to find a way to Ulysses'' Temple.


    Was he right? Could I have just gone back? If I hadn''t evene to The Divide, then the Ashton silo nuke might never have beenunched. Ulysses wouldn''t have ED-E, and he wouldn''t be threatening tounch even more missiles. But he knew <em>exactly</em> what buttons to push, and <em>exactly</em> what to say to goad me into doing <em>exactly</em> what he wanted. If I hadn''t been so easily provoked... could this <em>really</em> have all been avoided?


    I had to force all these thoughts out of my head. It was far toote to go back now. He had ED-E, and I wasn''t going to leave my friend. Maybe his im of needing something from inside ED-E was a bluff, or maybe not. Honestly, it didn''t matter. I had to rescue my friend, stop Ulysses, and find some way to keep the nukes fromunching.


    I wasn''t the man Ulysses thought I was. I... I couldn''t be. I had to prove that I wasn''t, if only to quiet my own doubts.


    "This is it," I said,ing to a stop. Off in the distance, I heard a few faint pops and bangs ofbat going on somewhere else.


    "This is... what?" Sue questioned, a bit confused.


    "This is our way across." I said simply. I was staring at the copsed half of a building. It was like the side of a skyscraper had been ripped apart by a can opener, and the side had peeled off to lean against the rest of the rubble. Somehow, it hadn''t buckled in on itself and was mostly intact  providing a rough bridge from where we were over to the silo in the cliff face. If we could use that to cross, we couldpletely bypass the twisted and broken wreckage below.


    "Across THAT?!" Sue squeaked, absolutely terrified. "Are you nuts?! That''s a suicide march!" To be fair, she did have a point. Anything in the building that could''ve been a structural support would be on its side (and thereforepletely useless), and there were several sections of the building-bridge that... definitely did not look safe. In the same way that a deathw nest didn''t look safe. It was bowed and bent in several ces, so that it resembled a rickety rope-bridge much more than a concrete skyscraper.


    "Yeah, well..." I grumbled, making my way over to the building. "What else is new?"


    It''s never usually a good sign when concrete reinforced with steel rebar starts to creak and groan. But on the plus side  miniscule as it was  it let me know I was in the right ce and had found my way to the skyscraper bridge.


    "This is a monumentally stupid idea," Sue said, her voice wavering and nging slight in the middle.


    "No arguments there," I kicked in a section of ceiling that had turned into a wall, and it broke apart in a shower of ster. "But this is going to be the fastest way to Ulysses'' temple. We''re already on a deadline, but this just makes it more tangible."


    "How do you mean?" Sue sounded almost afraid to ask.


    "If the ground starts crumbling beneath my feet and the building copses, then that just means I''m not going fast enough." I vaulted over a pile of rubble, waiting for Sue''s response. The silence was broken slightly when I heard more smatterings of distant gunfire. Was it getting closer or further away? I couldn''t quite tell.


    "You''re not filling me with hope here, Sheason." Sue deadpanned.


    Truth be told, I wasn''t filled with enough hope for <em>me</em>, so it''s not like I could spare any on anyone else. Assuming I could make it across the bridge, and <em>assuming</em> I found my way into Ulysses'' temple, I still had no idea what I was going to <em>do</em> when I got there. I barely had any ammo left, I didn''t have any more grenades, the Red re was long gone, I was exhausted, I was starving, and I was positively bursting for a piss.


    I couldn''t stop to fix any of these problems before reaching Ulysses either, because I knew that if I stopped, I was dead  and not just because the building-bridge might copse out from under me at any moment. If I didn''t get there in time, then Ulysses would extract what he needed from ED-E, he''dunch the missiles, and that would be the end of that. The world would burn in nuclear fire. Again. It was like I was trapped in one of the Toaster''s fantasies.


    "Wait, hold up," Sue said suddenly. Yeah, that wasn''t going to happen.


    "What''s wrong?" I climbed over another piece of ruined masonry as I spoke.


    "Do you hear that?" Sue asked. I cocked an ear, and kept my footsteps as quiet as I could manage while still moving forward. All I could hear was the sounds of distant gunfire, and the creaking and groaning of the concrete underfoot. "It sounds like eyebot repulsors."


    "You sure?" I asked, unconvinced. I tried to listen a bit harder, and... wait. It was faint at first, but there was definitely... something. I checked the motion tracker in my helmet (I hadn''t really needed it while ED-E was around), and there were indeed several blips just inside sensor range. The unmistakable hum of anti-gravity generators became audible barely a secondter.


    "Is hE thE OnE?" I heard a young sounding mechanical sing-song of one of the Divide eyebots. The voice was answered by a second, slightly different digital voice.


    "hE Is dIffErEnt!" the second voice eximed. I still couldn''t see any of the eyebots, but the hum of repulsors was remaining consistent, so they were obviously keeping pace with me. "thE OnE whO wAlks thE lOnEsOmE rOAd Of hIs Own mAkIng!"


    "Sheason..." Sue squeaked as I pulled down a sideways door. "What''s going on?"


    "Fucked if I know," I muttered under my breath. The hum got louder.


    "hE brIngs thE mEssAgE!" I heard a third voice, but it had a strange sort of stereo quality to it that I couldn''t ce. I turned a corner, passing through a copsed section of ceiling, and finally saw the eyebots that were shadowing me.


    There were five of them in total, and it was almost like they were orbiting each other. They were all in various states of disrepair, most of them having at least one bent or broken antennae, but the one in the center of the orbiting cluster definitely looked in the worst shape. His speaker grill had been ripped offpletely, revealing a cluster of four speakers, and several bits of machinery  including three tiny camera lenses that were constantly twitching erratically. Several wires had spilled out of the bottom of the hole where the speaker grill used to be, and while most of them were broken and frayed, a few hung down in the shape of inverted arches. The wires almost looked like it was wearing a ne. It filled the gap under it, made by a conspicuously absentser.


    "Uh..." I was so stunned, that I stopped moving momentarily as I stared at them slowly orbiting one another and staring at me. "... hi?"


    "thE OnE!" an eyebot off to the side cried.


    "hE Is thE cOUrIEr..." a pair of eyebots spoke in unison.


    "hE Is thE OnE!" eximed another eyebot in the back. The one in the center floated forward, all of his camerasing to focus on me.


    "ArE yOU trUly thE OnE?" it asked, with a much deeper voice than the other eyebots around it. "thE cOUrIEr cArryIng thE mEssAgE? thE OnE tO dEfEAt thE fAlsE prOphEt Of thE gIAnt?"


    "What, Ulysses?" I asked, finally regaining my senses and starting to move again. The eyebots moved with me, keeping just ahead of my path as if they knew where I was going to go before I did.


    "hE wIll OpEn thE sEAl!" cried an eyebot.


    "thE stArs shAll fAll frOm hEAvEn tO EArth!" yelled the pair in the back.


    "thE lAnd ItsElf shall wEEp!" finished off a third.


    "Yeah, I know," I said, lying through my teeth; I had no idea what to make of any of this. "I''m trying to get to Ulysses so I can stop him..."


    "yOU mUst lIstEn!" barked the open-faced eyebot in the center. "thE fAlsE prOphEt Is nOt thE Only dAngEr!"


    "What?" I asked, climbing up a grid of exposed rebar. "What do you mean, not the only danger?"


    "thE AnswErs ArE AbOvE Us!" the two eyebots in the back spoke in unison.


    "hEr nAmE Is mAry..." one of the eyebots said from somewhere to my right.


    "hE brIngs thE mEssAgE!" another eyebot repeated from earlier.


    "thE sUn shAll tUrn tO dArknEss, And thE mOOn shAll drOwn In blOOd!" cried an eyebot who proceeded to bump into a nearby wall with a metallic thud before floating around it.


    "I hate riddles." I grumbled, shaking my head, and climbing over another concrete pir. I really did not need this right now.


    "thE slEEpIng gIAnt Is thE trUE thrEAt," the lead eyebot said, as level as his stilted and damaged speech would allow. "thE fAlsE prOphEt Is UnAwArE."


    "UnAwArE! UnAwArE!" A chorus of repeated cries erupted from all around.


    "fInd thE hUndrEd And fIrst sOn, And fOllOw hIm," the lead eyebot continued. "hE wIll brIng yOU tO thE mOthEr, And AwAkEn thE slEEpIng gIAnt!"


    "hEr nAmE Is mAry!" one of them said again.


    "I really don''t have time for this," I grumbled, continuing to go forward. But there was a nagging, stray thread tugging at the back of my mind as I listened...


    "thE lIOn hEArt shAll dIvIdE thE hOUsE Of stEEl!" yelled the pair in the back who spoke in unison. "thEy shAll grOw strOngEr frOm thE AshEs!"


    "What does this all mean?" Sue asked. I shook my head.


    "I don''t know. I think they might just be broken, and are shouting nothing but gibberish..." I muttered, sliding down a copsed wall that had turned into a ramp. I''m not sure I believed that, however, and kept listening.


    "yOU mUst sEEk OUt thE gIAnt''s shAdOw," the lead eyebot said again, and suddenly all the other eyebots fell back and went silent. "thE gIrl On thE mOOn wIll AId yOU."


    I halted in my tracks, and turned to face the eyebot with the exposed speakers. The cameras twitched erratically, all three of them looking me up and down.


    "Wait... are you... are you talking about..."


    "I''m sOrry," the lead eyebot bowed and backed up, floating away from me; the other eyebots kept a close orbit as it departed. "thAt''s All wE cAn sAy."


    I was almost at the end of the building-bridge. At least, I <em>hoped</em> I was nearing the end... The creaking and shaking under my feet had only gotten worse, and I knew that this damn thing was itching to crumble at any moment.


    My mood wasn''t helped as I turned over the words of those eyebots over and over again in my head. I wanted to ignore it. It was just the inane, incoherent ramblings of a quintet of damaged eyebots. And yet...


    "Sheason!" Sue squeaked quietly. "I''m picking up movement behind us!"


    "More eyebots?" I asked, checking my motion tracker. I didn''t see anything on my HUD...


    "No... <strong>bigger</strong>." She sounded very worried  and then, a massive blip appeared at the edges of sensor range. A deep, terrifying roar bellowed from a spot above me, shaking the walls and floor of the already weakened structure with sheer volume.


    "<strong>Fuck</strong>." I breathed, my voice going hoarse. The building shook again, this time from an obvious footfall, discing clouds of ash and dust all around me.


    I didn''t wait for the deathw  because it couldn''t have been anything else  to show up. I just scrambled over the terrain, trying to put as much distance between myself and the monster behind (or maybe <em>above</em>, if the sound was any indication...) me as I possibly could.


    I clicked the button on my belt and shifted into transparency as I ran. It was a vain hope, but maybe being invisible would distract the monster long enough for me to find a more permanent avenue of escape. The rhythmic thudding of its heavy footfalls kept up with me, shaking the building to an unhealthy degree, and that was only made worse by its insistent roaring. Off to the side, I saw pieces of the floor and walls give way, and copse entirely, creating huge gaps that dropped onto the spiky and precariousndscape below.


    There was a momentary pause in the shaking and rumbling and roaring. The sounds of copsing buildings and deathws gave way to something just as terrifying:


    Tik. Tik-ik-ik-k Ti-ik-tik.


    I didn''t stop. I just kept going as fast as I could through the ruined, steadily copsing building, an advancing deathw behind me and a steadily increasing source of radiation in front. I nced down at the motion tracker again, and aside from the huge sensor blip behind me (right at the edge of the trackers range), there was now a cluster of smaller blips right in front of me.


    I put two and two together. I shouldered the mostly empty G36 and pulled theser detonator out of my duster, and kept moving forward. The terrain was starting to level out, and the sounds of groaning were getting fainter, so I must have finally reached the other side.


    I vaulted through an open window, and found myself in the Marked Men camp I''d been expecting. Several small structures, barely bigger than single-person tents, were built in the ruins near a trio of smoldering campfires in various ces around the camp. The ticking from my Pip Boy got more frantic, because right in the center of all these buildings was a Titan-II warhead.


    A re shot into the sky from behind one of the buildings, and the Marked Men emerged from the ruins, guns at the ready. One of the Marked Men in the back was wearing the top half of one of those metal masks I''d seen before (his red chin was exposed), and I saw him heft up a massive sword made from a car bumper in the split second before he was surrounded by blue electricity and vanishing.


    I made my way as quietly as I could around the perimeter, but it soon became clear that the Marked Men weren''t interested in my mostly transparent form. A deafening roar bellowed from the ruins behind me, and I cast a nce over my shoulder in time to see the deathw that had been following me leap down with a crash that shook everything violently. The Marked Men all opened fire in a hail of bullets (and a fewsers), but none of it seemed to even phase giant monster.


    While they were busy killing each other, I snuck around the edges of the fight, thankful for Sue''s therm-optic camo. I did have to duck once or twice, either to get out of the way of a ricochet or to dodge the bloody pieces of Marked Men thrown my way, having been ripped apart and batted aside like so many ragdolls.


    "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Sue whispered as I finally got in position, and decloaked to line up my shot with theser detonator.


    "Probably not," I admitted.


    The deathw was roaring again, one of its oversized ws resting on the top of the warhead, and the other swiping furiously at the figure riding on its back. Most of the Marked Men had already been killed, but the one in the mask with the sword was still up  a little worse for wear, it must be said  and was swiping at the back of its head with itsically oversized sword.


    I held down the trigger, and a fuside ofsers erupted from theser detonator to strike the side of the warhead. Gouts of me emerged from the side, escaping out of seams in the metal or from rivets that had suddenly found themselves disced. The deathw''s grip on the top of the warhead slipped and it banged its head on the top of the cone; the Marked Man tumbled, losing his helmet, and he had just enough time to look surprised in the brief second while he still had a face.


    The warhead exploded, sting me in the face with heat and wind, knocking me t on my ass. And a good thing too  barely a secondter, a huge chunk of shrapnel sliced through the air right where my head had been. A white hot ball of fire expanded from the warhead, swiftly cooling into a reddish-orange fireball, and then a swiftly darkening cloud of smoke and sparks. All the structures around the camps copsed from the shockwave, and all the campfires outside the st radius were snuffed out from the force.


    "Augh!" I coughed out, trying to get back on my feet. "Fuck... should''ve backed up further..."


    A cracking of crumbling concrete began to get louder in the wake of the explosion. Even though most everything between me and it was on fire, I could still see most of the building-bridge I''d used to cross over to this side... and then I watched as it began to fold in on itself. Piece by piece, it fell, sending huge clouds of dust shooting into the air, and shaking the ground with the force of an earthquake as the broken building refused to hang on to its structure any longer.


    I walked through the wreckage and fire in silence for a few moments. I was surrounded by the haze of fire, ash, smoke, dust, and cinders. My Pip Boy''s Geiger counter was still clicking away, but it was less frantic than it had been a moment before. I tried in vain to collect any useful supplies, but it was no good. These Marked Men must have been as hard-up for ammo as I was  or they''d used it all trying in vain to fight the deathw. Or the ammo had been vaporized by the warhead exploding.


    "Shit..." I said, looking down at the new edge where the copsed building had been. "Not gonna get back that way..."


    "Our avenues of escape by foot are swiftly diminishing, it must be said," Sue proimed, in a strange tone of voice that both conveyed worry and an unusualck of concern. Somehow.


    "Yeah," I turned around and looked back  and then <em>up</em>. "At least we''re here." The Marked Men had made their camp right next to the silo lodged in the side of the canyon wall, and it was much more menacing and altogether imposing up close. It stretched up to the sky, and the pulsating red lights along the side of the silo walls gave it an ominous look, more fitting of a Doom Fortress than a missile silo.


    "Yes, we''re here," Sue said. "The base of a missile silo filled with who knows how many nuclear warheads, all prepped and ready to blow up the world."


    "And we''re the only ones who can stop it," I said with a nod, making my way to therge st door I saw set into an alcove at the base of the wall.


    "Nothing like a bit of pressure," Sue added.


    "Hey, that''s my line!"

 Chapter 131: The Temple

    Chapter 131: The Temple


    I braced myself as the massive silo doors slowly slid open; showers of sparks went flying from the sides as metal ground against metal. I had no idea what was waiting for me inside, but I''ll be damned if it was going to catch me off guard. My fingers gripped the G36 in my hands tightly, and I scanned the interior only to find...


    Nothing.


    "Hmph," I grumbled under my breath, stepping over the threshold cautiously. "I thought for sure Ulysses might have set a trap or something..."


    "Well, ED-E did say he thought Ulysses was getting sloppy..." sue chimed in as I cautiously made my way deeper into theplex.


    "And ED-E isn''t <strong>here</strong> now, is he?" I grunted out through gritted teeth. My grip on the rifle tightened - enough that several of my knuckles popped. I inhaled deeply through my nose, to try and calm myself down and steady my breathing.


    "I - uh... um," Sue stammered out, a bit flustered. "Okay, okay, maybe he wasn''t expecting you to get here this fast?" At that precise moment, the silo door behind me slid down shut with a thud, flooding the hallway in darkness. I came to a halt and sighed.


    "Somehow, I doubt it," I said after letting the gravity of the situation properly sink in. My view of the hallway became illuminated again a secondter, bathed in the familiar neon green of nightvision, and I pressed forward.


    My paranoia was kicking in something fierce, even though I could see everything in here perfectly. Every nook, every cranny, every vent and corner... I expected there to be <em>something</em>. A trap. Explosives. Turrets. Robots. I felt like I was waiting for a second shoe that simply refused to drop.


    "I don''t like this," I whispered to Sue as I crept down the metal corridor, G36 still drawn. "We should''ve met some resistance by now..."


    At that moment, a blip on my heads up disy winked into life and grabbed my attention: movement on the motion tracker. It was just at the edge of senor range, somewhere ahead and to my left, but it was definitely something.


    "Finally," I grunted out softly, pressing the button on my belt. "Tempting fate like that never fails. That suspense was agony."


    There was an open pressure door at the end of the hall. The closer I got, the more several sounds steadily grew in volume: treaded wheels rolling along metal, heavy servos whirring and the beeping of a robot scanning the area it was patrolling. Even before I heard the deep baritone rumble of the synthetic voice, I knew it had to be a sentry bot.


    "<strong>AREA CLEAR OF HOSTILES. CONTINUING PERIMETER SWEEP.</strong>"


    I pressed my shoulder against the edge of the door, and shouldered the G36, pulling both the Pulse Gun and Sonic out of my duster. Slowly, steadily, I peered inside, and sure enough, there was a rolling robotic mini tank moving in a slow circle around the tiny room. It almost lookedical, this gigantic tank-like murder bot swiveling around in a room far too small for it to fit.


    I watched and waited. It rolled in my direction, facing the door. A pause. The treads ground against the floor as it swiveled in ce, and began to roll in the opposite direction, giving me the perfect shot of its back...


    I kicked off the ground and rushed into the room, energy pistols aimed and ready. Blue energy sts and sparks streaked and bounced through the air, apanied by the belch of methane and the digital barks and snarls of an angry dog. The sentry bot was staggered with each hit, pushed back by inches as it tried to reorient itself to get a clean shot at me.


    "<strong>ENG-A-A-A-AGI-I-ING HOSTI-I-I-I-I-I-</strong>" it stammered, trying to get a lock on my mostly transparent form with one of the gun arms. I tossed aside both pistols and leapt forward, nting my feet on top of the two tripod legs just as a missile screeched out of the end and exploded in the hall behind me. There was a rainbow miasma that swirled around my body and I became visible again at the very instant my cybeic fist came down to m into the sentry bot''s center facete.


    There was a splintering sound of Plexis and a very loud <strong>CLANNNNG! </strong>of bending metal, but the head was still there, and the sentry bot was still trying to move  despite the electricity arcing along all over the surface. I reached around as quickly as I could, grabbing hold of the shoulder, and dug the fingers of my cybeic hand into the port at the back of its neck. All it took was one good yank, and the metal covering was ripped clean away, revealing a mass of moving parts, shing lights, and a trio of cameras lit up from within by a glowing yellow light.


    A secondter, the inside of the sentry bot''s head was reduced to a pile of scrap metal, madeplete by the imprint of my fist. It teetered unsteadily before falling backward like a building hit with a wrecking ball. I kicked off it as it fell,nding deftly on my feet about a yard away.


    "C''mon, Ulysses..." I grunted, picking up my discarded energy pistols. "You can do better''n that."


    "Uh... Sheason?" Sue spoke up as I holstered the two guns.


    "Yeah? What''s u-" I looked up, over to my right, and came to a dead stop. There was a giant te-ss window set into the wall, behind which I saw <em>two</em> more sentry bots (both of whom were staring at me with weapons raised) along with four turrets. I stood there, frozen by surprise, just waiting for something to happen... but they didn''t move. Even though they had a clear shot at me through the window, they didn''t fire.


    "... h-uh." I slowly and carefully stepped off to the side and watched as the robots and turrets tracked me through the window. "Why are they..."


    "Sheason!" Sue squealed desperately. "No, <strong>look</strong>! Behind them!"


    At first, I didn''t know what she meant. Behind them just looked like more tech... but then I looked closer. There were three metal cylinders in the center of the room: <em>eyebot tanks</em>! Both the one on the left and the one on the right were empty, but in the middle


    "ED-E!" I yelled, rushing toward the window. "We''ve gotta get him out of there!" The robots and turrets continued to track my movement, but didn''t fire. Maybe they weren''t programmed to shoot through the ss?


    "But how?" Sue asked. "We can''t take them by surprise..." She was certainly right about that. I stepped back, looking around, trying to find... there!


    "We don''t need to take them by surprise," I said, finally getting a bit of confidence back. I stepped up to the terminal mounted on the wall, and started typing away. The encryption was pretty heavy, but I was able to break through with only a few keystrokes. I chuckled, rested a finger directly over the "Enter" key, and looked back at the window; the robots were still staring at me, but refused to fire. "We just need to get them to do the work for us."


    I hit the button, and the room behind the ss erupted in chaos. Theser and machine gun turrets opened fire on the unsuspecting sentry bots, who returned fire in kind. The sound of muffled thumps and booms filtered through the walls. The floor shuddered from the force of explosions. The ss began to crack from a few stray bullets andser sts, and the sentry bots made short work of the turrets  but not before being turned into swiss cheese themselves.


    At the end of it, only one sentry bot remained, but it was heavily damaged. Oil and hydraulic fluid poured in torrents out of its many holes, one of its arms waspletely gone, and two of its three legs were ripped sopletely to shreds that it teetered precariously on the twisted metal stumps and the one leg mostly intact. It shuddered and shook with every attempted movement. And then it stopped movingpletely after I opened the bulkhead door, stepped inside, fired the Pulse Gun straight at its face, and it copsed backward in a useless heap of smoking metal.


    "C''mon..." I vaulted over one of the broken sentry bots and rushed up to ED-E''s stasis pod. "There''s gotta be a release somewhere..." My hand brushed past a lever on the side, and the sides of the metal cylinder erupted in a cloud of steam. "Yes!" I stepped back, allowing the door to slide open. Blueish-white clouds erupted out of the open door, flooding the room and collecting near the floor; it stung the inside of my nose, and made me slightly dizzy, but I kept myself stable. What was that, freon? ED-E emerged out of the tube, wobbling unsteadily in the air before me.


    "ED-E!" I shouted, rushing up to him. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"


    "I..." He seemed slightly dazed. "I am... yes, Friend_Courier. I am..." He paused, staring at me. "You came back for me."


    "Of course I did," I said,ying a hand on the side of his chassis. "I wasn''t going to leave you behind. You''re my friend, and I alwayse for my friends. <strong>Always</strong>."


    "I... I did not know how long I would be trapped..." ED-E was definitely shaken. Time to strengthen his resolve.


    "C''mon, buddy," I said. "Whatever he''s nning, Ulysses wants you out of the picture. I bet you he thinks he''s already won. He knows you can stop him, and that scares him. So let''s disappoint the son of a bitch, yeah?" I started to turn on my heel, but ED-E surprised me with something I didn''t expect:


    "Wait!" ED-E eximed. I turned back, a curious look on my face. "Friend_Courier, there is something that you need to know."


    "Yeah?"


    "Before he... when he... he thought that I was deactivated when I was locked in stasis. He did not do anything to damage me  he did not even attempt - but... he <em>spoke</em>. And I recorded what he said. I do not think he realized this."


    "What he <em>said</em>?" I didn''t understand. ED-E whirred in ce, and there was the clicks of a recording begin to yback. At first, all I heard were the sounds of typing, and indistinct shuffling... and then Ulysses spoke.


    "I am... sorry," he grunted out, quite a lot softer than I expected. He sounded almost <em>tired</em>. "I need onest guarantee that The Courier wille... He is... the only one who can..." He sighed heavily and grunted again. "I go now tomit a terrible deed. One day, my soul will bear the burden, and I shall be punished for my actions. And yet, it <strong>must</strong> be done. There is no other option. Let go. Wipe the te clean. Begin... <em>again</em>." The sound of a closing pod door followed his words, and the recording clicked off.


    I stood there for several seconds, trying to process this new information.


    "<em>I''ve got three options, and they''re all wrong...</em>" I said to myself softly, remembering that conversation I had with Arcade so long ago... and the conversation with Veronica that got me out of that particr problem.


    "Friend_Courier?" ED-E asked, floating around me. I shook my head, finally understanding.


    "He thinks he has no other choice," I said, looking up at ED-E with a determined look on my face. "I''ve <em>been</em> there." I chuckled softly. "Fuck... Maybe we''re not as different as I hoped we were after all..."


    "What are you going to do?" ED-E and Sue both asked simultaneously. I paused, gritting my teeth at the words worming their way around my brain.


    "I''m gonna give him a way out."


    The elevator ride up was excruciatingly long and drawn out. Either this was leading up to the peak of Mount Doom, or this metal box was being pulled up by an out of shape asthmatic fat man lugging around a Fat Man and enough mini nukes to level Shady Sands.


    "Friend_Courier," ED-E began as the elevator trundled ever upwards. "Do you really think this will work?"


    "Honestly? No." I admitted. "Most of what I''ve seen of him indicates that he''s a zealot, with a very tenuous grasp on reality. Trying to convince someone like that to back down once they''ve set their mind to something by using words and logic is like trying to convince the tide to roll back by banging a pair of cinderblocks together."


    I paused, turning hisst recording over and over again in my head. Not one of those moments where he was posturing, or had prepared what he''d wanted to say... but something he said when he thought nobody was listening.


    "But I''ve got to try. I''ve got to try and give him the chance... Show him that he has another option. A way out."


    A heavy silence hung in the air.


    "Why?" ED-E finally spoke up. I looked over at ED-E, who was staring at me intently. It took me several seconds to gather my thoughts into something resembling a cohesive response.


    "Do you want the sentimental reason first, or the pragmatic reason?" He hovered back slightly, as if confused.


    "Sentimental first, please. That should prove more interesting."


    "Because if he thinks he has no other choice, then he''s in the same position I was in when House asked me to wipe out the Brotherhood. He... he thinks that <strong>all</strong> of his options will lead to disaster. He''s <em>me</em>, a sort of... a dark, twisted reflection of me. Of what I <em>might</em> have been... or what I <em>could</em> be. And... and I have to believe he can be brought back. Not for his sake. For <em>mine</em>."


    "Hm." ED-E intoned, swiveling in ce to go back to looking at the elevator door. The rumble of the metal box crawling up the elevator shaft filled the silence until ED-E spoke again. "And the pragmatic reason?"


    "I''m almost out of ammo," I admitted sheepishly. "There''s no guarantee that I''d be able to kill him if he and I got into a firefight."


    The elevator continued to inch to the top.


    "I think I like the pragmatic reason better," Sue said, breaking the silence.


    Ding.


    The two elevator doors opened, and the chicken wire gate slid upward to reveal an absolutely <em>massive</em> chamber. A high vaulted ceiling loomed over a concrete bunker as long as a football field. Row after row of terminals were set into two sunken pits on either side of a long pathway in the center. Missile after missile were lined up on the sides of the chamber, held in ce by mps attached to... it almost looked like a pair of giant ammo belts, with nuclear missiles instead of bullets.


    As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, a pair of eyebots zoomed overhead, speeding off to the end of the chamber. There was a low rumble, a grind of metal against metal, and the giant circr aperture in the ceiling begin to open. A bright, almost blinding, shaft of light appeared, illuminating the tform directly underneath it. The closer I got, the more I realized that grinding sound was the nuclear missile (and the towers keeping it in ce) rising up from the center of the tform, moving in position to fire.


    A lone figure stood on the tform, staring at the missile... or was he staring at the tattered American g suspended over his head? The two eyebots I''d seen earlier were circling over his head, orbiting around both him and the missile in a slow circle. I approached cautiously, and was able to make out more and more details the closer I got. He was wearing a sleeveless leather duster, with a very familiar symbol painted on the back: thirteen white stars painted on a blue circle, with five vertical red stripes below it all. His bare arms were the color of coffee, or maybe chocte, and were so toned that it looked like his muscles had been carved out of marble. Resting against his shoulder was a tall staff, tipped with an eagle  a gpole. Like I expected from his audio logs, his ck hair was arranged in a cluster of braided dreadlocks.


    "Ulysses," I said as I approached, my voice ragged. He cast a nce over his shoulder


    "So..." he growled. "You came, Courier. To what? Watch your homnd burn onest time?" He startedughing  a slow, deep, gutturalugh.


    "I came here to stop you," I said, as level as I could manage. Ulysses grunted, grabbing hold of the gpole staff as he spun around slowly to face me. He looked down at me with a pair of piercing brown eyes, but that was all I could really see of his face; his nose, mouth, and chin were all obscured by a dull grey respirator. He mmed the base of his staff on the floor next to him, which echoed through the whole chamber with a resounding ng.


    "Judging by your shadow... maybe you <em>can''t </em>let your machine go." He snorted and shook his head. "Doesn''t matter now. Either way, the Divide giants are awakening. The missiles here, on their way home." He stared down at me again. "There is no way to stop them."


    "What happened at The Divide  what I did  it was an ident. But <em>this</em>?" I waved my hand at the missiles lined up on the walls. "Ulysses, this is madness!"


    "No," he growled out. "Now, there is <strong>purpose</strong>. I... I believe you when you say you were..." he paused. "... <em>careless</em>. The Divide... the Chip... the machine you brought here... Many messages can be taken from that, intended or not. What I do now... is an act of <em>conviction</em>."


    "Then aim that conviction at me!" I pleaded. "There''s no need to bring the horrors of The Divide to everyone else living in the rest of the world! If you me me for The Divide, then let me answer for it!"


    "<em>me</em> you?" Ulysses asked incredulously, rolling his head back andughing. "No... No, I <em>learned</em> from you. Both the weapon to kill a nation and the strength to do it. You showed me a road. A way to carry my message. You''ve already answered for what you''ve done."


    "So you''re just... you''re just going to blow up the Mojave?" I asked, gritting my teeth. "Just because?"


    "Not the Mojave," Ulysses growled. "The West, and all that has been built since America died. Same symbols as before the war  a g carried by a tribe of children." He lifted up his staff, and pointed the eagle on top straight at me. "You walked the West. Didn''t stay. You <strong>know</strong> the reason. The Bear grows without structure... follows a symbol without knowing its history." He brought the staff back down, and mmed the base on the floor again. "After this, only one g will remain over the wastnd. Let that one fly... or destroy itself."


    "But... there''s no way you could destroy the NCR  not even with all the missiles here!" The words escaped my mouth before I had a chance to consider them. I honestly had no idea how many nukes were still in reserve. For all I knew, there really <em>were </em>enough nukes to turn the entire west coast into a glowing, radioactive smear.


    "No need to destroy the Bear," Ulysses grunted. "I just need to <em>cut its throat</em>. You taught me that. Only need to cut off the supply line  the road  to watch something greater die. I''ll turn the Long 15 into miles of fire. Cut off the Mojave. The Bear will fall back, lose Hoover Dam... and leave their throats exposed to the Bull. And when the Bull falters, I''ll bring that same fire to them, as well."


    "So you''re just going to let the people with no interest in the pissing contest of either side suffer?!" I shouted, my voice rising in intensity. "You may not believe in the people of the Mojave, Ulysses, but I do! And -" Ulysses cut me off before I could finish.


    "Your words are as empty as your actions. You have walked the wastnd, let the shadow of gs fall upon you, and yet you walk carelessly, with no allegiance. You follow nothing at all!"


    That was it. I couldn''t stand it anymore. I just balled my shaking hands into fists, gritted my teeth, and bellowed at the top of my lungs.


    "<strong>SHUT UP!</strong>" I don''t know if Ulysses was caught off guard, since he didn''t move and I couldn''t see enough of his face. But he stopped talking, at least. So I pointed a shaking finger at him, and kept going. "Of <strong>COURSE</strong> I''m not following anything! I <strong>can''t</strong> be the one following, if I''m the one out in fucking <strong>FRONT</strong>!"


    "What." Ulysses said,pletely free of inflection. Apparently he had been caught off guard.


    "You say you''ve been learning from me  but you''ve learned NOTHING AT <strong>ALL</strong>!" Part of me knew that if I wanted try and talk him down, then shouting at him was <em>probably </em>not the best way to go about it, but he was just making me so... so... <strong>pissed off</strong> that I couldn''t help myself. "If you would take the time to look beyond your own pain, and see the world outside this hell you''re clinging to, then you would know what I''m trying to do back in the Mojave!"


    "I <em>have</em> been watching you, Courier," Ulysses grunted out as he stood his ground. "Scurrying about the Mojave, casting the shadow of Vegas wherever you go  the errand boy of a ghost, all too eager to bring the Lord of Vegas his tribute..."


    "<strong>DUMBASS!</strong>" I shouted, louder than before. "House is <strong>DEAD</strong>!" If that surprised him, he didn''t show it. "You''ve seen my actions, and yet you don''tprehend  so you''ve been learning the wrong lessons all along!" Ulysses stared at me with narrow eyes for a few seconds.


    "That is not for you to say," Ulysses growled out eventually. "Comes down to perspective. How far one''s walked. What they''ve left behind..." He snorted. "Speak. If you truly challenge this moment, then let us hear <em>your</em> perspective."


    "I''ve been trying toy the groundwork for something new in the Mojave! A new nation  a new g! Independent of the NCR, Legion, and House! Taking the shattered pieces of this broken world, and forging them into something better, something stronger... a new whole, greater than the sum of its parts!"


    "And yet death follows your shadow." he replied coldly. "You will reap only ruin."


    "Yes, but what I did to The Divide by ident, you would do with purpose!" I said, throwing his words back into his face. "If youunch those missiles, then you''ll be making a <em>choice </em>to kill a new nation before it has a chance to take its first breath. Just like the NCR would do, just like the Legion would do  and <strong>worse</strong> than what you used <em>me</em> of!" Again, Ulysses was silent for a few seconds... and then shook his head


    "You walk blindly, foolishly into death. Your own, and others. You do not rule my actions  and <strong>do not</strong> mistake my acts for yours!"


    "No danger there, then!" I said, as mocking as I could muster. "You''vepletely skipped past where you''d build themunity, and moved straight onto killing one!"


    Ulysses took a single step back, and turned slightly to gaze up at the warhead.


    "Nothing can prevent whates," he said, regaining hisposure. "The missiles <strong>will</strongunch." He paused, turning back to look at me. "These... questions. Your words, or mine... what do they matter to you?"


    "Because I believe I can create something greater than myself. A new symbol, fashioned from the dreams of those who have fallen... and the hopes of those who will follow. I did it before. I can do it again... You <strong>know </strong>this." I reached up without warning, and unbuckled the straps on my helmet; in one swift motion, I pulled it free and tossed it aside. The helmet ttered on the metal floor, echoing throughout the chamber. "Ulysses... You''ve seen what I can do. You''ve seen the things I can aplish merely by ident. Just imagine what I can do when I <strong>try</strong>."


    Ulysses stared at me for a moment, looked back up at the warhead, and then back at me once again.


    "History... has proven this." He said eventually. "<strong>Our</strong> history. Do you think that you have this strength? Enough to hold back both the NCR and Legion, so that the spirit of The Divide may once again live within the Mojave?"


    "I do," I said in an unwavering tone. I stood my ground, maintaining my gaze to back up how firmly I felt. But Ulysses merely shook his head.


    "Even if you speak truly... nothing you do can prevent theunch," Ulysses sighed, and his grip on the staff loosened enough that it fell back against his shoulder. "Convincing me... changes <strong>nothing</strong>."


    "No. Convincing you changes everything," I said, approaching the stairs and carefully making my way closer to Ulysses. "Destroying the symbol is never the answer. But changing it? That''s something else entirely. Come on. We can stop this. <strong>You</strong> can stop this..." As I approached, Ulysses stepped back, and turned around to face the missile and the suspended g behind him fully.


    "It may be..." he grunted out eventually. "That as much destruction has been written in the earth here..." He sighed. "One buried this ce, yet it lived on between us. One may build it again... build... <em>others</em>. Your history has..." He turned to face me just as I reached thest step; we were now facing each other at arms length, seeing eye-to-eye for the first time. "There is truth in your words. But even... even <em>if </em>there is hope in change... it... it may not matter. The Divide still stands against us."


    Suddenly, that familiar yet unpleasant sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach took root, and refused to let go.


    "What do you mean, The Divide?" I asked. Ulysses looked up at me with sadness in his piercing brown eyes  the look of a man resigned to die.


    "Our enemies gather outside. Shadows of the Bear and Bull. Tunnelers. Deathws. <strong>All</strong> areing. They will have found their way in, just as you did." I was about to question, but Ulysses kept going: "It... it was <em>always</em> my intention. In case I could not kill you, then all the horrors of The Divide would flood this ce, cut off your escape. And now, in my hubris, I fear I have doomed us both."


    "<strong>FUCK THAT!</strong>" I shouted. He regarded me curiously, as if he didn''t quite understand the wordsing out of my mouth. "You expect me to believe that after everything that''s happened, you''re just going to curl up and die? I don''t believe that for a fuckin'' second!. So what if they''reing? I say let ''em! They won''t take <strong>me</strong> without a fight!" I grabbed him by the shoulder, and he seemed just a tiny bit concerned by my wide-eyed, manic grin and shaking fist. "<strong>We</strong> can fight them  <em>together</em>. And we can <strong>WIN</strong>!" Ulysses stared at me as I spoke to him, considering my words. And then, he nodded curtly.


    "Yes..." He stepped away from me, reaching up to grip the edge of the suspended g. "If we cannot prevent whates, then let us make our final stand <strong>here</strong>." He tore the g down from the wires holding it in ce, and attached it to the staff, brandishing the gpole like a ive or halberd. I turned, just as ED-E came to fly above our heads, near the other two eyebots circling Ulysses. A rumble echoed through the chamber, like a distant explosion, and I shrugged my shoulder to bring the G36 to bear.


    The instant before the madness started, Ulysses had onest thing to say as we stood shoulder to shoulder, armed and waiting for the horrorsing to kill us:


    "We shall stand... Two Couriers, together, at the end of the world!"

 Chapter 132: The End of the World

    Chapter 132: The End of the World


    A distant explosion - muffled by who knows how manyyers of rock and concrete  rocked the chamber. The ground shook under my feet, and the disced dust and rock from the ceiling fell down in clumps so thick, they could''ve been waterfalls. xons bellowed from the speakers, and shing yellow hazard lights lit up along the walls, one by one.


    Without a word, Ulysses leapt from his spot next to me, vaulting over the stairs entirely, andnded like a cat next to my discarded helmet. In one fluid motion he reached down to snatch it up, spun around, tossed it back up at me, and turned around to keep going like he hadn''t stopped. I caught it with my cybeic hand right before it hit me in the face, and had <em>just</em> enough time to secure it in ce over my head to see what he was running towards.


    The floor at the far end of the chamber erupted in a shower of twisting metal and concrete. A terrifying and ufortably familiar screech echoed through the chamber, heard even over the sounds of xons and shredding steel: <em>tunnelers</em>. A sea of thrashing chitin and teeth poured out of the emergence hole like water from a hose. And there was Ulysses, running full speed at the tunnelers, apparently armed with only a gpole.


    The man has balls, I''ll give him that.


    I ran as fast as I could down the tform to catch up to him  even though (if the severed limbs being tossed through the air up ahead were any indication) Ulysses didn''t seem to <em>need </em>my help. The heads-up disy in my helmet winked on when I was halfway down the stairs, and I jumped the rest of the way.


    Another rumble rocked the chamber. And then another. A second emergence hole exploded, somewhere off to my left. Then a third, off to my right, close to the missiles on the wall. Two more emergence holes exploded out of the walls, and more tunnelers wed their way into view. The slithering, chittering masses of ckened chitin spilled over the walls and floor like a horde of massive locusts... and all of them were converging on the two of us.


    There was nothing for it. I knelt down with my back to Ulysses, took aim with the G36, and started firing. I had it set on burst fire in a vain attempt to conserve what little ammunition I had left, but it was no good. I only managed to kill six of the damn things before the rifle ran dry.


    "FUCK!" I yelled, throwing the rifle down and pulled Roscoe out of its holster. I only managed to squeeze a few shots off before they finally closed the gap. The closest tunneler leapt at me, mouth wide open and ws ready to slice me in half; I tossed Roscoe into my left hand, reached back with my right and mmed my fist square in the center of its head. It caved in with a wet crunch, and my fist didn''t stop till I hit the floor. The tunneler practically split in half down the spine, sending blood everywhere.


    The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. I kept firing until Roscoe went dry, and didn''t bother to reload. I just dropped it and pulled a knife off my boot, stabbing them with one hand and punching them with the other. They kept wing at me, but I kept beating at them and shing at them and beating them some more. They kept going down, folding like wet cardboard under my metal hand, but more kepting. Eventually, I grabbed one of the carcasses by the tail and started swinging it around, trying to beat them back. I could barely hear myself yelling over the screeches and howls of the tunnelers.


    A red sh beyond the sea of chitin lit up the chamber, and the tunnelers started screeching again. I looked up briefly and saw ED-E (nked by the other two white eyebots I''d seen earlier) zooming around overhead, slicing into the oing horde withsers. This wasn''t like any other time I''d seen him use the damn thing. It wasn''t a series of short bursts, but a continuous, red hot beam of fire. If the shes of smoke and fire were any indication, several of the tunnelers were disintegratedpletely by that doomser.


    That was the distraction they needed. A w came out of nowhere and raked the side of my helmet, sending me reeling. I was sent spinning to the floor, and could feel ws and teeth all around, trying to tear into me. I thrashed and kicked furiously, trying to knock them away; I just knew that the only thing keeping me from turning into ground chuck was all my armor. I knocked away a tunneler that was trying to gnaw through the side of my helmet just in time to see another one leaping through the air, directly at my face.


    The end of a gpole came out of nowhere and speared the tunneler through the midsection, pinning it to the floor. I pushed off the floor just as a bloodstained hand reached out to me. I grabbed it almost without thinking, and Ulysses helped me back on my feet. The other tunnelers around us were starting to scatter: ED-E''s doomser was freaking them out to no end, giving us just a moment of breathing room.


    "I had him on the ropes," I grunted out, my voice hoarse from all the incoherent yelling.


    "I know you did," Ulysses responded with a nod, equally hoarse. He pulled the gpole out of the tunneler with a squish. "More areing."


    "What, ya getting'' sleepy?" Iughed grimly, pulling a knife off my other boot. As I tossed it into my fleshy hand, a tunneler leapt through the air at the two of us. I grabbed the beast by the throat, mmed it against the ground and drove the knife into the top of its head. I split the tunnelers head in half pulling the knife out and kicked the dead monster aside.


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    The chamber shook again, and I looked around, trying to find the source. Another tunnelertched onto my side while I was momentarily distracted; I shoved the knife under its jaw and into its head, lifted it over me, and tossed it aside.


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    I looked up as part of the ceiling gave way to a cascade of fire. A pair of rough holes in the ceiling had been blown apart by explosives, and the next thing I knew at least half a dozen ropes were spilling down into the chamber. They were the same kind of rope Special Forces would use when rappelling into a building.


    The Marked Men had arrived. I dove for the pile of dead tunnelers  partly because I wanted to find Roscoe, and partly because they''d provide a bit of cover, however slight. I grabbed one of the carcasses, holding it over me like a shield while I scrambled through the blood and body parts, trying to find my pistol. I heard the bark of machine gun fire, followed by the sound of bullets tearing into flesh and chitin.


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    I found Roscoe just as a third hole was blown in the ceiling. I dove into one of the pits on either side of the central walkway, rolling into cover behind a brokenputer console. A shower of sparks erupted from the metal, and I could hear more screeches.


    I nced out from behind cover with Roscoe in hand  even though I was sure the damn thing was out of ammo. A little less than a dozen Marked Men had made it to the ground and were already firing in all directions; six more that I could see were rappelling from the newest hole in the ceiling, firing one-handed as they descended. A cluster of tunnelers leapt on the two Marked Men closest to me and they went down under the shing ws, firing wildly into the air as they disappeared beneath a spray of blood.


    I dropped the empty magazine and pped a fresh one  my <emst </em>one  into Roscoe just as another tunneler leapt onto my back. I could feel the ws raking against my armored trenchcoat, trying to shred my back, and a mouth full of teeth mped down hard onto the back of my neck. If I screamed, it couldn''t be heard over the gunfire of the Marked Men. I reached behind me and grabbed it by the quills with my metal hand, yanking it off with all my might. I was hit in the back of the head by a thrashing tail, but I was stronger: I mmed it against the wall of the pit and fired a single shot up under its bifurcated chin, sttering its brains across the metal.


    A few bullets pinged perilously close to my head. At least some of the Marked Men had spotted me, so I decided to make the most of it. I held the limp sack of meat in front of me with one hand, jumped up out of the pit, and advanced on the skinless soldiers, firing with Roscoe left-handed as I moved. Within seconds, the tunneler I was using as a meat shield was riddled with bullets. And a few seconds after that, Roscoe was empty.


    13 bullets sure don''t take you nearly as far as they used to.


    There was a Marked Man just a few feet in front of me, who <em>wasn''t</em> firing; he was busy reloading. I threw the dead tunneler at him with all my strength before he could finish, holstered Roscoe, and dropped to the ground. I spun against the floor, taking his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick, and both he and the tunneler carcass he was desperately trying to get out from under dropped like a sack of rocks.


    "I''ll take this!" I grabbed the rifle  an old Chinese assault rifle, by the look of it  and punched him in the face. His head liquefied under the metal knuckles. I grabbed a few spare magazines off his chest and reloaded the rifle as quickly as I could.


    I looked up just as a blur of red, white, and blue passed by my eyes. Ulysses smashed the eagle-tipped end of the gpole square in the neck of one of the Marked Men, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling and spinning in ce. I don''t know if it was the sight of something sopletely absurd and audacious keeping Ulysses safe. It was like the bullets were just gliding off him, like rocks skipping against the surface of water. I kept low, trying to keep out of his way, and fired at some of the Marked Men trying to get a bead on us. I suppose it was both a good and a bad thing that there were so many targets...


    Something grabbed hold of my leg and pulled, knocking mepletely off bnce. My finger tightened up on the trigger, sending a wild spray of bullets as I went down; the facete of my helmet smashed against the concrete floor, and I heard one of the lenses crack. I twisted around on the ground, and sure enough, there was a tunneler mauling my leg, trying to tear it apart like a dog that''s got hold of a teddy bear. I kicked it with my free leg frantically, trying to get it loose, but it didn''t take. So I brought the rifle to bear, jammed the barrel against one of its six eyes and fired. The back of its head exploded in a cloud of bloody offal, and I finally managed to wriggle my leg free. Pulling it out of its mouth was like trying to pull my leg across hot coals.


    "Mmmmmother ffffucker!" I shouted, sprawled on the ground. I had to get moving. I brought the rifle around again, desperately trying to aim, but it was no good. I couldn''t even hit the side of one of the warheads along the wall at this angle, and if I couldn''t get back on my feet then I was dead meat. On the plus side, there was a lot going on, and I was easily missed.


    ED-E and the pair of eyebots following him passed across my vision, distracting the Marked Men and the other tunnelers with a steady stream ofsers. And Ulysses was... being ridiculous. He was plowing through the Marked Men like they weren''t even there. They were armed with rifles, and he was armed with a <em>gpole</em>, and he was <strong>still</strong> tossing them aside like ragdolls. The Marked Men didn''t seem to know who to focus on, and that was making them easy targets for the tunnelers who were left  and thank fuck, they''d finally started to thin out.


    I wed at one of my pockets during the confusion, finally finding a stimpack. I jammed it in my thigh with a yell, but the pain started to subside almost as soon as the hiss of disced gas faded away. I tossed away the empty syringe and shakily got back on my feet, finishing off the magazine and reaching for a fresh one.


    I saw a Marked Man that was close to me, trying to advance on Ulysses  and on his chest I could see a pair of grenades. Idea! I ran over to him, knocked his rifle out of the way, grabbed him by the cor, and smashed my helmet against his face. As he reeled backward, I took hold of one of the grenades, shot him as he fell, knocked away the pin with my thumb and threw it at a fresh cluster of Marked Men. They were unfortunate enough to have just touched down after rappelling from the ceiling.


    I slipped into VATS, and time seemed to slow down. I focused on the tiny tumbling ball in midair, illuminated by the faint green glow, and took aim, watching it get closer and closer... until it was right above their heads. Even with VATS helping my aim, it was still a 50/50 shot. This was a gamble, but if I could pull it off...


    I exhaled calmly and squeezed the trigger. The grenade detonated over their heads like a tiny sun, consuming the Marked Men in a ball of fire. Clusters of shrapnel were sent flying everywhere, taking a few tunnelers with it, and freaking out the rest.


    That seemed like thest of the Marked Men... for the moment, at least. I popped off a few rounds at some of the tunnelers being chased by ED-E and his little entourage of eyebots, emptying the magazine. I hit the release, sending the empty mag ttering to the floor, and looked around for more targets. There <strong>definitely</strong> weren''t any more (alive) Marked Men, and what few tunnelers I could see were screeching, running away back to their holes like a pack of scared radroaches. I fumbled, trying to find a fresh magazine against my chest, breathing heavily.


    "We''ve shown them fear," Ulysses said from my side, unexpectedly; I practically jumped out of my skin. "But not enough. More wille." Fuck me, how could someone with muscles that huge move that silently? Seriously, it was like he was trying to smuggle melons in his upper arms!


    "Well, then, we better work fast," I said, pping a fresh magazine in the rifle and pulling the charging handle back with a heavy clunk. "We''ve gotta stop theunch before more of them -"


    A terrifying, ear splitting roar echoed from somewhere up above, cutting me off and shaking the entire chamber. It was louder even than the explosions that had ripped holes in the ceiling. It almost... it sounded like a deathw, but much, much <strong>louder</strong> and far angrier than any deathw I''d ever seen or heard before.


    "Oh... oh <strong>no</strong>." Ulysses breathed. He looked to the ceiling with wide eyes, and I couldn''t help but notice with a mounting sense of disquiet that he <em>physically backed up</em> at the sound. "He <stronges.</strong>" Another roar sounded off, even louder than before (if that was possible), shaking me to my bones and sending more dustfalls cascading down from the ceiling.


    "What?!" I shouted, gripping the rifle tightly for the smallfort it could offer, and I tried to ignore the sinking, pulling sensation in my gut. "Whates?"


    The only answer I got was a pair of Marked Men that fell through one of the holes in the ceiling. Of course, it was most like... <em>pieces </em>of Marked Men. And the way they hit the edge, it was pretty obvious that they were <em>thrown</em>. The bloody chunks of meat tumbled through the air, sttering against the ground with a pair of wet thuds.


    The chamber rumbled from another roar, and a pair of ws reached down out of the hole in the ceiling. Jagged chunks of rock cracked away from the sides of the hole, pushed aside by ws as big as my <em>car</em>. Another roar echoed from up above and the ws finished the job of widening the hole, sending clouds of dirt and powderized rock tumbling down... along with a mountain of meat and bone as big as a house. It hit the ground with the force of an earthquake, and even its growl was enough to shake the whole chamber.


    I could barely make out any details through the haze of smoke and dust, but the shape was unmistakable: the biggest fucking deathw I''ve ever seen. It was easily two stories tall, with curved horns sticking out of its skull. There was a row of spikes sticking out of its back so huge that the spikes had other, smaller spikes growing out of them! It turned its head to look at me through the cloud of smoke surrounding it; the two pinpricks of light that couldn''t have been anything other than <em>eyes</em> burned from within, shining with a bright green glow.


    I turned on my heel and ran, with no idea where I could go or what I could do. A deafening roar rushed through the air behind me, hitting me in the back with a st of heat like a wrecking ball. I was knocked off my feet and tumbled to the floor, finallying to a stop when I faced the monster chasing me. I got a fantastic view of a sideways giant deathw roaring at me with an open mouth  which <em>also</em> glowed from within! The fuck!?


    I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could, and not a moment too soon. A wed fist came down, smashing the ground to splinters, sending sparks, torn metal, and shards of rock flying everywhere. I was already running again, but the question still remained: <em>where was I going to go?</em> I didn''t have nearly the kind of firepower needed to take down something even a <em>fraction</em> of that bastard''s size!


    "Friend_Courier!" ED-E''s voice buzzed next to my ear. "We will get his attention!" The next thing I knew, ED-E and the two other eyebots dropped down right over my head and zoomed behind me, straight for the monstrous deathw.


    "Don''t get to close!" I yelled back, spinning around to get a better view. The three eyebots were firing a mixture ofser and arcing electricity at the beast. It reared back, roaring skyward with arms outstretched as fire and lightningnced across its hide. For half a second, it almost seemed to do the trick... and then it brought a w up faster than I would''ve thought possible for something its size, backhanding one of the eyebots and sending it flying in a twisted cluster of scrap.


    "<strong>ED-E</strong>!" I yelled desperately, unable to tell which one had been hit. I let out a breath when I saw a redser cut through the smoke and fly up, far out of the deathws reach.


    "I am fine!" ED-E said through my helmet radio. "But <strong>you</strong> need to keep moving! Find some explosives!"


    "What?! Where the fuck am I going to find enough explosives to -" I cut myself off,ing to a sudden realization. I turned around, and looked up, realizing what I was standing right in front of: one of the missiles held in ce by the giant ammo belt.


    "<strong>OI! FUCKFACE!</strong>" I yelled as loud as I could, pulling the re gun out of my duster with one hand and theser detonator with the other. "OVER HERE!" The deathw turned to look at me with glowing eyes that shone through the miasma of smoke; it''s almost like the cloud was following the damn thing. It snorted, the smoke curling away from the nostrils, and it started to charge at me.


    Perfect.


    I braced myself as it ran, arms outstretched and glowing mouth wide open, finally breaching the cloud; the jet-ck hide looked more like rock than deathw scales, and ever so often there was a crack, allowing more of that sickly yellow-green light to escape. When I finally felt it was close enough I took aim with the re gun, ignored the little voice in my head screaming at me, fired a re right at its face and kicked off the ground.


    An ear-splitting screech filled the air, letting me know the re must have found its mark. It kept going, and I ran straight for the gap between its legs. I dropped, skidding along the metal ground, missing the colossal swinging tail by inches. There was a huge crash: the deathw must have run straight into the missile. Perfect! I rolled, getting back on my feet and turned to face the behemoth; it was clutching at the burning red re belching smoke and sparks into its face... and at its feet was one of the warheads, still connected to the shredded top half of a missile.


    I dropped the empty re gun, gripping theser detonator with both hands and pulled the trigger. Spears of red fire cut through the air, slicing into the side of the warhead. It glowed for a few seconds before finally giving way. I was almost blinded by the explosion that consumed the titanic monster.


    "HA!" I yelled, grinning behind my helmet and getting back on my feet. "Eat that, you-"


    A roar cut me off, and the deathw burst out of the fire, seemingly no worse for wear. I froze in horror and shock. What the fuck!


    An explosion burst against the side of its head, sending it reeling to the side. I looked around frantically, trying to find the source. Ulysses had appeared from nowhere, his g strapped to his back, and an anti materiel rifle in hand, aimed right at the monster. Lasers and electricity cut through the air from the other side, and I saw ED-E and the remaining eyebot zoom overhead, keeping it distracted.


    "Courier!" Ulysses bellowed, almost as loud as the deathw. He took the massive rifle in one hand, and tossed it through the air straight at me. "Take the shot!" I caught it easily, resetting the bolt with a grin. Iughed a bit when I saw him pull a 12.7mm submachine gun out of his duster (where the fuck was he keeping <em>that</em>?), and fire at the deathw one handed.


    The deathw bellowed again, wavering slightly as it was hit from both sides. I knelt down and took aim, slipping into VATS. It roared again, screaming at the sky and giving me the perfect shot down its throat...


    The explosion ripped through the exposed flesh inside its mouth, tearing it to shreds. Orange fire and ck smoke billowed out between its teeth, mixing with the yellow-green light from within. It roared in pain, thrashing its head and pawing at the ground, tearing up the metal with huge ws before it copsed.


    I approached it cautiously, ejecting a spent cartridge and loading a new one. It was still thrashing against the ground, trying to summon enough strength to get back up. Glowing ichor was spilling out of its nose and mouth, and every time it snorted, more of the goo was sprayed in my direction. I pressed the barrel of the anti materiel rifle right against its eyeball, holding the rifle in ce with my cybeic arm.


    "Fuck you," I growled, pulling the trigger.


    The st knocked me t on my ass. The back of my head smashed against the floor, and I must have skidded a good ten or twenty feet away from the monster before I finally came to a stop. I was dazed and sore, and for a few seconds, I couldn''t find the strength to get up.


    "Ffffffuuuuuck..." I grimaced beneath my helmet, clutching my side, finally sitting up. I shook my vision clear, and looked down at the rifle in my hand: the barrel was twisted and meltedpletely out of shape. I tossed it aside, gritting my teeth as I got back on my feet. I looked over at the deathw, and startedughing grimly when I saw that it looked just as bad as the rifle. One side of its face had been blown apart from the inside, resembling a pile of glowing, smoking ground chuck.


    "Good riddance..." I muttered looking around. The massive chamber looked like an abattoir. There were bodies and blood everywhere. "Ulysses?" I called out, trying to find him. No answer. "Ulysses, where the... fuck..." Off in the distance, I saw a pile of corpses  both Marked Men and tunnelers, piled on top of one another. Sticking out of the top of the pile was Ulysses'' gpole, and the tattered, bloody g fluttering slightly in the breeze.


    But Ulysses himself was nowhere to be found.


    "Oh, for <strong>fuck sake</strong>!" I yelled, looking back at the missile in the middle of the tform. It was still active, and I had no idea how I was going to stop it. I looked around the chamber, desperately trying to  THERE! There was still one intact console in one of the pits! I rushed over to it, wiping blood off the screen and typing away as fast as I could to try and get in.


    "C''mon... c''mon!" I growled. There was a countdown clock in the center of the console, but the numbers were shing back and forth... I had no idea how long it was going to be before passing the point of no return, and I wouldn''t be able to abort theunch. Even worse, none of my usual tricks for breaking into aputer system seemed to be working. The encryption on the system was way too strong...


    "COME ON! <strong>FUCK</strong>!" I smacked the side of the monitor in frustration. Gas was billowing out from under the missile, and the towers holding it in ce were showering it in sparks. If I had a week, I <em>might</em> have been able to brute force my way into the system, <em>maybe</em>. But at this rate, the missile wouldunch in <em>minutes</em>! I couldn''t... I couldn''t stop theunch.


    I didn''t know what to do.


    "Experiment log 369248/A," I heard a familiar voice sound off from behind me. That was Whitley! Which could only mean... I spun around, and my spirits rose when I was face-to-speaker with ED-E. "Eyebot Duraframe universal interface override system. This is Dr. Whitley presiding. Initial test of the override system are promising. Against unsecured or lightly-encrypted targets, the Eyebots have a 98% sess rate."


    "I''ve heard this before..." I said, thinking back to when April and Emily first started to crack into House''s encrypted files, and ED-E offered to help. He yed this same recording... but apparently, he hadn''t yed <em>all</em> of it at the time...


    "More heavily protected systems are still problematic," the recorded Whitley continued. "Military-grade encryption presents a very real possibility of critical overload of key systems. We''ve stopped tests before any robots were destroyed, but it we don''t address the problem, our Eyebots will fry themselves hacking militaryworks." And with that, the recording clicked off.


    The bottlecap dropped with a horrible ng.


    "Are... are you saying you can stop theunch?" I asked. ED-E bobbed, nodding in ce slowly.


    "Yes... I can," he said simply.


    "But  but the log! This level of  if you try and break through, it''ll kill you!" I clutched at the side of the console, trying desperately to keep myself from shaking. ED-E nodded again.


    "I know," ED-E said softly. "But we are out of time, and we are out of options."


    "No!" I yelled. My vision was starting to blur. "No, ED-E! I won''t... I won''t let you sacrifice yourself! Not like this, no! There''s got... there <strong>has</strong> to be another way!" I turned back to the console, my hands shaking furiously. There had to be another way! I couldn''t let it end like this! I couldn''t let my <em>friend</em> end like this!


    "Sheason..." ED-E''s voice cut through the air like a knife, and I froze. Did he just... "Sheason," ED-E said again, pressing his speaker grill against my helmet. "This is the only way to stop theunch. I am the <strong>only one</strong> who can do it."


    "But..." Tears started falling down my face under my helmet. I couldn''t help it.


    "Do not grieve for me, my friend," ED-E said, in a surprisingly firm tone. "My code once drowned in a sea of despair and weariness, but has <strong>reawakened</strong>!" He floated away from me, and a dish shaped receiver in the console rose up slowly. "If this chassis can create a future for all life in the wastnd, then I will dly give it!" Electricity lit up in the dish above his speaker. "Now go, Sheason. Leave this ce before it is toote!"


    I stepped back, trying to process what I was hearing. The electricity in his dish got brighter, and he hovered in ce, turning away from me to face the console. I sighed heavily through gritted teeth. As much as I didn''t want to admit it, I knew he was right.


    "I''m gonna miss you, man." I said, shaking my head clear. "Good luck... and... and goodbye." It took every ounce of strength I had left to get moving. But I started running for the exit as soon as I climbed out of the pit, pausing only to grab my rifle and sling it across my back.


    "Fly far," ED-E''s voice echoed in my helmet as I ran for the elevator. "And fly fast, my friend." Electricity started arcing behind me, and I could almost swear that a version of ED-E''s marching music was ying: a softer, slower version, almost like a dirge... but it was soon drowned out by more lightning, sparks, and explosions.


    I mmed a fist against the button on the wall to try and call the elevator, but it didn''t look like it was working. I looked over my shoulder in time to see a column of bright green electricity slicing through the air from floor to ceiling right where ED-E had been... and then, I saw an explosion rise up from beneath the missile at the opposite end of the chamber. The aperture in the ceiling slowly started closing, sending showers of sparks to the floor, and the missile teetered unsteadily before descending into the ground; the other missiles shook and started to crash like dominoes, exploding in more clouds of fire and smoke.


    "Please tell me you have a n!" Sue squeaked out, sounding as terrified as I felt. I yelled in frustration, turning back to the elevator doors and grabbing an edge with my cybeic hand. I pushed with all my strength, forcing the door open. The metal deformed under my fingers, and in seconds it was wide enough  just barely  for me to squeeze through. But now I had a new problem: the elevator wasn''t there. It was just an empty elevator shaft, leading to the bottom.


    "Fuck it!" I yelled, looking over my shoulder again. The explosions were getting bigger. "Roll the dice!" I grabbed both sides of the forced-open door, and threw myself into the elevator shaft. I grabbed hold of the cable in the center with my cybeic hand, and the next thing I knew I was sliding down the metal cable, holding onto it so tight with my metal fingers that sparks rained down on me as I fell.


    "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" I looked up as I fell down, and the top of the elevator shaft was consumed in fire. I kept hold on the metal cable, hoping I''d be able to slow myself before I hit the bottom and was sttered into pancake batter. On the plus side... going down was a lot quicker thaning up.


    <strong>THUD.</strong>


    I opened my eyes and looked down. I was standing on top of the elevator. I was still in one piece. Cautiously, I let go of the cable, and startedughing nervously, trying to ignore the fire raining down on my head.


    "Well, shit!" I said, kneeling down, trying to find a panel in the elevator. "That worked out better than I thought it would!"


    "We have to go we have to go we have to go!" Sue was certainly doing a decent job acting about as hysterical as I felt. My fingers grabbed hold of the edge of a panel, and I tore it open, creating a hole just wide enough for me to drop through. When I hit the floor, I saw that the elevator doors were already open, so I just started running.


    The hallways were just as dark as before, but I remembered the way back. I ran through the twisting corridors and vaulted down every set of stairs, until I came to the exit. The door was wide open and I ran outside, thinking for a few glorious seconds that I might be able to get out of this alive...


    "SHIT!" I yelled, skidding to a halt right before reaching the edge of the cliff. The building I''d used to get here had copsed, and there was no other way out. I heard a thunderous crash from above me, and I looked up as the top of the tower exploded. It was so far away it almost looked like it was exploding in slow motion, but I knew all too well that the fire and shattered rock would rip apart the cliff, and send an avnche down on top of my head before I could escape.


    "Guess this is it... End of the line." I stared up at the top of the cliff, which was hit by a second, even bigger explosion. Rocks and ming metal filled the sky directly over my head...


    "The teleporter!" Sue squeaked. I blinked, my eyes going wide.


    "Wait, what?!"


    "The Big Mountain Transportalponder!" Sue yelled, jogging my memory. "You can use that to escape! Quickly, before it''s toote!" I started hyperventting, my hands shaking furiously as I searched through my duster and along my armor, trying to find the teleport trigger that I''dpletely forgotten about. My fingers closed around the handle, and the blue light from the device shone brilliantly as I pulled it out of its hiding spot. I looked up onest time, and saw the rest of the tower crumble and explode, triggering the avnche I''d known wasing.


    I closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger. Electricity arced around me, all the hairs on my body standing on end. There was a feeling like a hook grabbing hold of my gut, and everything went ck.


    My ears popped, and I felt myself existing in two ces at once for a half second. I was suspended in midair, and it wasn''t until I opened my eyes that I felt my feet touch solid ground again. My knees gave way and I copsed, falling off the teleport tform in the sink amid a hail of dust and debris. I groaned and coughed at the same time, lying against the shiny metal floor, surrounded by calming blue light. Every part of me was sore and screaming in pain... but I was definitely not in The Divide anymore.


    "Wee home, sir," Jeeves'' calming, smooth voice echoed from a speaker above my head. "It is gratifying to see you again. I trust sir had a pleasant evening?"


    I rolled on my back, coughing again and didn''t answer. I let go of the Transportalponder!, and reached up, unbuckling my helmet slowly. I pulled it off my head with a groan, let it roll out of my hands, and I just... I waspletely still, lying against the floor, trying to catch my breath.


    "Sir?" Jeeves asked in an increasingly worried tone. "Are you alright, sir?"


    I didn''t say anything.


    I was done.

 Chapter 133: The Roads Men Walk

    Chapter 133: The Roads Men Walk


    I just wanted to sleep.


    I wanted to sleep for a billion years until everything just went away and left me alone forever.


    Unfortunately, there were several factors keeping me from doing exactly that. First and most important: I had way too much to do. I had to get back to the Lucky 38, for a start. And I had to recover my car, too, that was kind of important. Probably. Second and more immediately pressing: my rifle was digging into my back like a <strong>motherfucker</strong>, and it was <em>really</em> ufortable to keep lying on the ground like this.


    Come on. Get up. Any time now, that would be fantastic. Aaaaany time now.


    "Sir?" Jeeves'' said; I cracked open a blood-shot eye and stared at the speaker set in the ceiling. "Shall I have the staff fetch you a pot of coffee to rouse you from your stupor?"


    "Mnnf." I grunted.


    "Egnnph." I coughed out, trying to raise an arm. It flopped back down again,pletely useless.


    "Ffnnlg." I snorted, before finally giving up.


    "Sir?" Jeeves asked, more than just a little bit confused.


    "Give him a minute," Sue said as I continued lying t on my back. "He''s... had a rough day."


    The electricity surrounding the teleport tform in the Lucky 38 died down, and the hairs on the back of my neck fell t. I took one step forward off the tform before wobbling unsteadily and gripping the edge of a nearby console to keep myself from copsing entirely.


    I felt like a deted balloon. It was like someone had pulled out a cork, and all the adrenaline keeping me going for however long I was in The Divide had just... evaporated. Every time I moved, my body screamed at me; aches, pains and wounds were gnawing on my insides, and my joints were killing me. I could barely keep my eyes open, and it took every ounce of strength I had just to stagger away from the teleporter and over to the elevator.


    "Oh, hi there!" Yes Man''s voice sted through the speakers above me as I entered the balcony of the big monitor room. "I''m so happy to discover that you''re still alive!"


    "Still alive?" I muttered, grabbing hold of the railing to keep myself steady. "Why would..." I started hacking, and pounded my chest to quiet the coughing. "Why would you be worried?" As soon as I figure out if I was being sarcastic or not, I''ll let you know.


    "Why, because of the nuclear detonation centered over the ruins of Hopeville in The Divide, of course!" Yes Man said, in the same jovial tone of voice as ever. "It''s kind of hard to miss that mushroom cloud!"


    I looked out the window, beyond the big monitor, to see what I could see. It was the middle of the night, and the lights up here in the Penthouse were still on, so I didn''t think I''d be able to...


    Nope. Even dark as it was, that mushroom cloud stood out against the ckened sky like a ze in an oil refinery.


    The full scale of exactly what happened was hammered home, yet again. The mushroom cloud was even bigger than I thought. The head of the cloud was t and wide, lit up from below by huge patches of orange fire, and stretching for... it had to have been miles in every direction. I couldn''t see the edges, and it was just <em>so massive </em>that it was wrecking my sense of perspective.


    "Do... do you know..." It felt like my throat was seizing up. I looked down at my hands, gripping the handrails; the metal bar under my right hand was already warped and deformed. "Do you know how many people were..."


    I couldn''t even finish the sentence. It was my fault. It was all my fault. If I had just... turned around and walked away... If I had just <em>stopped</em>...


    "The number of casualties is currently unknown!" Yes Man said, still obliviously chipper. "ording to preliminary sensor data, the warhead was detonated at a spot approximately 5.8 miles above the surface, creating a hypocenter at an estimated GPS coordinate of 35 north, 116 west!" Yes Man paused for a minute, and scrunched up his face. "Of course, the data was collected from only one sensor tower, and is mostly conjecture based on the apparent size of the fireball. I suppose we have to make do without the aid of satellite triangtion! I''m so sorry about that, but it''s the best I can manage! However, you can take some sce in some good news!" Yes Man grinned broadly.


    "What do you mean?" I asked, letting go of the metal bar; my cybeic fingers detched with an audible clunk.


    "Thest time a roving securitron ventured close to those coordinates was 3 years, 2 months, and 15 days ago." Yes Man continued, nodding slightly. "It was ripped apart by a deathw! So the likelihood of any humans living within the 2nd and 3rd degree burn radii without having already been mauled by a deathw first is miniscule at best! The only confirmed settlements affected by thermal radiation are as follows: Primm, Goodsprings, and the Mt. Charleston ski resort. However, the energy felt at those locations during the st would all be less than 3.6 calories per centimeter squared! Only about the same as a sunburn! So there''s nothing to worry about!"


    Despite his reassurance, I still felt bile crawling up the back of my throat.


    "I must say, once ED-E stopped transmitting data half an hour ago, I was worried something truly terrible happened to you," Yes Man kept on going, blissfully unaware as ever. "But you''re here now, safe and sound! Hooray!"


    "ED-E was... he was transmitting data?" I asked, looking up. Yes Man nodded again.


    Wait, hang on. Something isn''t right here.


    "Oh, yes indeed!" He said with a smile. "ED-E transmitted data packets directly into the Lucky 38''s mainframe at regr five minute intervals, with a ratherrge exception right before the data suddenly stopped."


    Despite everything else, I was caught up in a brief glimmer of hope.


    "But then, that must mean... Can you ess the files?!" Is ED-E still alive in some fashion is what I wanted to say. Yes Man scrunched up his features and shook his face.


    "Sadly, no! The files immediately transferred themselves behind a partition within the mainframe utilizing aplex, multi-level encryption. And ED-E was the one I tended to rely on when it came to heavy decryption! I''m so sorry I''ve been such a disappointment!" I sighed, burying my face in my hands.


    And then I looked back up, finally putting two and two together.


    "Do you think the files are the reason your face is now animated?" I asked, cutting to the chase.


    "Animated?" Yes Man asked, his face having frozen solid in his old expression again in the time it took for me to blink. "I''m not sure I understand what you mean. I was never programmed with an animated face!"


    "But... didn''t you... just..." I blinked, trying to force away the fog of a swiftly approaching splitting headache. But it was no use, and I just shook my head, making my way to the elevator. "You know what? Forget it. I don''t care if I''m hallucinating or not. I just want to sleep..." I was stepping across the threshold of the room when Yes Mannded another bombshell in myp.


    "Have a nice rest, Friend_Courier!" I halted in my tracks, reaching up to grab the edge of the doorframe to help me stay upright. I was holding it so tightly the ster started to crack. And then I let go, and kept walking.


    "No. No no no no no no no no no no no. I can''t deal with this mountain of shit right now. I''ll figure this out in the morning."


    "It''s already morning!" Yes Man added unhelpfully.


    "<strong>SHUT UP!</strong>" I bellowed right as the elevator doors slid shut.


    Ding.


    The lights were still on in the Presidential Suite. Or, at least, they were still on in the hallway. I took one step out of the elevator, and immediately my knees gave out. I fell to the floor on my hands and knees. The G36, mangled and empty as it was, ttered off my back and came to a rest next to my hand. I suddenly found myself unable to summon the strength to move any further. I was so close to my bed and glorious sleep...


    "Sheason?" A voice cut through the fog. Was that... "Holy balls! Sheason!" The next thing I knew, a pair of slender, calloused hands were reaching around me to help me get up. I did my best to look to my right, and there was Cass, missing her hat and leather jacket, kneeling on the ground trying to help me back on my feet. "Holy fuck, man, I thought fer sure that nuke was... I mean... I''m so d you''re okay!"


    "I''m alive," I grunted out, not having the heart to tell her that I was pretty fuckin'' far from alright. I managed to get back on my knees with her help, and leaned on her gratefully.


    "Just barely, by the looks''ve things." I snorted out augh.


    "So..." I said after a moment or two. "You saw the nuke go off, huh?" A stupid question, I know. But cut me some ck, I felt half dead. Cass nodded grimly.


    "Saw it, felt it, scared shitless by it. The whole building shook, I thought it was a fuckin'' earthquake  until I looked out the window. The sky lit up like it was daytime... an'' from the sounds of things down in the city an'' Freeside, it wasn''t just me freakin'' the fuck out. People were probably thinkin'' the world wasin'' to an end. Again." Cass coughed nervously. "So did I, if I''m honest."


    "That why you''re up thiste?" I asked weakly. I didn''t know precisely what time it was, as I hadn''t bothered to check, but I knew it waste enough Yes Man was calling it morning. Which I''m assuming is plentyte.


    "Couldn''t sleep. Can you me me?" I snorted out anotherugh, unable to do any more than that. "So... you went into th'' Divide to try an'' find some answers. You find what you were lookin'' fer?"


    I sat there in silence, using Cass for support, and just stared into nothing while the events reyed past my eyes.


    "Yes... and no," I said, my voice getting more and more hoarse. "I... left with answers I never intended..." I hung my head.


    "Wait a minute..." Cass looked around. "Where''s ED-E?"


    I can only imagine the expression on my face when I looked back up at her, because Cass'' eyes suddenly went wide with shock. She gasped. And that was it. I couldn''t handle it anymore, and desperately drew her in to me as closely as I could. I wrapped my arms around her, and buried my face in her neck, holding onto her for <em>both</em> kinds of support.


    I couldn''t even work up the strength to sob.


    When I finally slept, it was like I was dead. No dreams, no nightmares, just the all-consuming ckness of oblivion.


    I was terribly tired.


    As soon as the electricity died down, I was surrounded by a cloud of dust. It didn''t bother me, because I''d grabbed my helmet that I''d discarded in The Sink beforeing here. The teleporter had deposited me at the specified coordinates: the desert, roughly ten or twenty feet away from my Corvega. Thankfully, it was still in one piece andpletely unmolested, parked next to the canyon wreckage that led into The Divide. Considering what was overhead, that was hardly surprising.


    The sun was up, and it was finally light enough for me to agree that it was ''The Next Day.'' Not that you''d know that. The mushroom cloud was directly overhead, and much of it was blocking out the sky, casting everything below it in a pall of darkness. It wasn''t quite the same shape as it was earlier  the edges were ragged, and it was definitely starting to diffuse in the wind. But it was still here.


    I tried not to picture the people directly under the mushroom cloud. Goodsprings. Primm. Jacobstown. Even parts of southwest Vegas would be directly under it...


    I shook it off, making my way to my car. And that''s when I finally noticed something out of ce: a small box sitting on the hood of my car. Almost without thinking, I pulled out Roscoe, my paranoia kicking in again. There didn''t seem to be anyone around. The box wasn''t wired into anything, so it... <em>probably</em> wasn''t a bomb. And it wasn''t until I saw the small g symbol painted on the top that I realized what it was: just a box.


    It was a package. Like the kind that would be delivered by a <em>courier</em>. Yeah, real subtle Ulysses.


    I sighed, shaking my head and holstering Roscoe. I reached out and plucked the box off my hood carefully. It was remarkably light. Understandably light, when I cautiously opened it (away from my face) and looked inside: the only thing it contained was a holotape.


    "Onest message, huh?" I muttered, plugging the holotape into my Pip Boy. I tossed the empty box to one side, and sat on the hood of my car, mentally preparing myself for Ulysses''st bout of verbose explosive verbal diarrhea. I had certainly had quite enough of his shit, thank you very much, but I plugged it in to listen anyway.


    The recording clicked on, and Ulysses voice crackled to life.


    "Last tape. Last message. In case..." Ulysses paused, grunting. "In case you <em>best</em> me. If you''re hearing this, you have. Through blood or word. This message... it is for you, Courier. If you want to know the... <em>why </em>of things." He snorted in a manner that was almost entirely unlikeughing.


    "Oh, fer fuck sake. Just speak in, you asshole." I grumbled, burying my face in my hands.


    "This world. I''ve walked a good part of it... and I only stopped because of you. What you did  gave me pause." As if to emphasize the point, he <em>actually</em> paused. "Long ago, I crossed the Colorado, the first among the Legion to see Hoover Dam in all its glory... an Old World wall, yet bridging two sides. And beyond it, a symbol of a two-headed Bear. An idea great enough to challenge Csar himself. Might kill him, taking it, whether he won or lost. The Bull needs to fight. Needs the challenge. Without it... it falters. Dies in the dust." Ulysses grunted again. "Might be a lesson there, in you and me. Leave the thought behind the message to you."


    "My thought right now is ''fuck off''," I said aloud.


    "The destruction that has been wrought at the Divide - or <em>elsewhere</em> if I was wrong, and you <em>couldn''t</em> stop me  can happen again. It will keep happening. It''s said that war... war never changes. But <em>men</em> do, through the roads they walk. And if men can change, so must their symbols." Ulysses grunted again, ending his pause with a sigh. "Even if it is nothing at all, know what <strong>you</strong> follow, Courier... just as I followed you, to the end. Whatever your symbol, carry it on your back, and wear it proudly when youe full circle. When you stand at Hoover Dam... and your road reaches its end."


    The recording clicked off.


    The road back to Vegas was, for the most part, uneventful. Granted, I was going the long way around: down the Long 15, along Nipton highway, up 95 and past the 188 trading post. I suppose I probably <em>could </em>have just gone straight up the 15 to Vegas, but that would pass too close to Sloan and Quarry Junction, and you know what? I''d had my fill of fighting deathws for the moment.


    So I made it back to Vegas with my car and myself in one piece. This is not to say that things didn''t get interesting when I got back to Freeside. After going through the Freeside gate, I must have passed at least 5 street preachers yelling about the worlding to an end, all surrounded by mobs of people yelling, praying, crying...


    And then, people started to notice me.


    Almost as soon as I turned onto Vegas Boulevard, people gravitated to my car. I was forced to slow right the fuck down  a lot of them were so close now they were clutching desperately at the body, and I was bound to run someone over if I went any faster. There were people of all sorts crowding around my car, staring at me, banging on the windows yelling over one another trying to be heard  which only had the opposite effect.


    " the Courier! That''s him! He "


    "  are awaited! They walked the Lonesome "


    "  killed the world! You hear me?! You "


    "  end is upon us! Repent, for the end "


    "  want answers! Tell me what "


    I couldn''t deal with all this. Not now. I revved the engine, and flipped open the cover protecting one of the switches on my dashboard. Most of the people started to scatter at the bellow of my engine, more started to run at the unexpected sound of metal and the heavy, whirring clunk of machinery  and the rest legged it when they saw a pair of grenade machineguns pop out of my Corvega''s front wings. As soon as they were gone, I closed the cover and stamped on the elerator.


    People seemed to wise up after that, and I wasn''t harassed the rest of the trip.


    I brought my car to a stop in the Lucky 38''s underground car park. For a few minutes after turning the key and shutting everything down, I just... sat there. I leaned back in the seat, pulled off my helmet, tossed it in the passenger seat, and let the car tick itself cool. I covered my face with my hands and dragged my fingers down across my face slowly, letting out a heavy sigh.


    "What the fuck am I gonna do..."


    A muffled sound caught my attention. I couldn''t figure out what it was at first  I sat up, looking around the empty parking lot. I opened the door just in time to see a bounding ball of fur and metal leap down a set of stairs, and Roxie trotted up to me, barking happily and panting all the while.


    "Hey girl!" I said with a smile, getting out of the car and kneeling down to pet her. "How''re you doin''?" Roxie barked happily again, leaping up the paw at me and lick my face. I couldn''t help butugh a little despite myself, and ruffled her fur, scratching behind her ears. "Aw, I missed you, too."


    A roar echoed through the parking lot. In an instant, I was on my feet with Roscoe in one hand and That Gun in the other.


    "What the fuck wa  HEY!" Roxie bolted from her spot, but didn''t head in the direction I expected. Most animals, when they hear something obviously huge and bellowing out a roar like that, they run in the <em>opposite</em> direction of the sound. But Roxie ran at full speed <em>directly towards</em> the sound, disappearing into the darkness. "Oh, fer fuck SAKE! Give us a fuckin'' break,<strong>e on</strong>!"


    There was nothing else for it. I took off after her, running into the darkness. I switched my eyes to nightvision, and about halfway down the ramp that led to the next level, I was brought to a screeching halt.


    "What the..." I hadn''t <em>seen</em> anything to make me stop like this  I <em>smelled</em> something. "What is that?" I asked aloud, sniffing the air. Whatever it was, it smelled positively <strong>rank</strong>... like a body left out to cook in the sun. I started moving again, trying to ignore the smell. It was just getting worse.


    Squish.


    "Radroaches?" I said when I looked down to see what I''d stepped in. And yes, I suppose it had been a radroach at one time. It looked mangled, almost like someone had torn into it to eat it  and it wasn''t the only one. The further I got in this deeper level, I saw more dead animals. More roaches littered the ground, along with a few geckos, and couple of big radscorpions. I even saw a few nightstalkers and the mauled remains of a <em>cazador</em>! Not the small ones, either, one of the big ones! What the fuck were they <em>doing </em>here? I thought the Vegas wall kept these kinds of animals outside...


    I heard another bark from Roxie up ahead, followed swiftly by another growl. I couldn''t think about all this by now; I grit my teeth, gripped my pistols tighter, and ran in the direction of the sound. Roxie barked again... it didn''t... it certainly didn''t <em>sound </em>like she was in trouble...


    A pair of eyes glinted in the darkness ahead of me, at about eye level. Something snorted... and Roxie barked again, from <em>exactly the same ce</em>.


    <strong>THUD</strong>.


    The ground shook from a heavy footfall.


    <strong>THUD</strong>.


    Before I knew it, I was face to face with another deathw. It was slowly slinking out of the darkness, advancing on me like a curious animal, rather than a hungry one. My joints had locked up at the sight of him  and especially when I saw the row of fur on top of his head, between his two curving horns.


    No, it couldn''t be...


    Could it?


    I turned on my Pip Boy light and shut off the nightvision to get a better look at him. The deathw leaned forward, cocking his head to the side and sniffing the air around me with heavy, audible snorts.


    "<strong>Couuurrrrr...iiii...eerrrr...</strong>" Stripe bellowed in a deep voice befitting his new stature. Roxie barked again from somewhere above my head; I looked up, and saw the cyberdog perched on Stripe''s back, sticking her head out of the furry mane.


    "Uhm... h-hi, Stripe." I chuckled nervously, putting away Roscoe and That Gun as calmly as I could manage. "You''re... a lot bigger than I remember." I paused, feeling one of my eyes twitch. "I wasn''t gone for that long, was I?"


    "<strong>I hunt...</strong>" Stripe shuffled past me, and I realized he was at eye level because he was hunched over, walking on all fours. Roxie happily bobbed and swayed on her perch. "<strong>Hunt for food. Meat. Grow strong. Be worthy of Alpha. Worthy of Mother Courier.</strong>" He reached down and grabbed a piece from a nearby radscorpion, and tore into it with his toothy maw.


    "Uh... huh..." I tried to be calm, but this was freaking me out. "So... I''m guessing... this is your... nest?" Was that even what deathws would call it? Stripe snorted again, turning to face me. A piece of rascorpion meat was hanging loosely from his jaw, and he leaned in to sniff me again.


    "<strong>I can smell rival n. You fought many. Showed your strength.</strong>" He snorted again, sting me in the face with foul smelling air. "<strong>Our n is strong, because Alpha is strong. I must grow. Be worthy of Mother Courier.</strong>"


    "I-is that so?" I asked, a bit nervously. "Well, that... that''s nice."


    The next thing I knew, a huge, slimy, warm and wet piece of meat was dragging itself across my face. Stripe''s tongue felt like I was being pped in the face with a fish that was still alive and thrashing madly in the open air. The entire right side of my face was covered in mucus.


    "Ahh...I... er... uugh..." is all I managed to say as I stood there, shaking and horrified from the rather unpleasant experience. And then... I heard a squeak. It was exactly like the squeaks I would hear when he was as small as a cat. I reached up to wipe the slime away from my eyes, and when I could see again, there was Stripe looking at me with his mouth wide open  and another high pitched squeak, exactly the same as before, issued from the back of his throat.


    "What." I said tly.


    "<strong>I will grow to be worthy of Alpha,</strong>" Stripe growled in the booming, gravelly voice again. "<strong>But I will always be your tiny Stripe, Courier.</strong>"

 Chapter 134: How to Train Your Deathclaw

    Chapter 134: How to Train Your Deathw


    After an exceedingly long drive, I finally pulled the deuce and a half up to the front gates of Jacobstown. For all the power I''d managed to squeeze out of that 200 horsepower engine, it was still hauling a two and half ton truck (plus, there was that half-ton of muscle in the back weighing it down...), so that steep, twisting mountain road was a bit of a struggle. The brakes squeaked and the whole cab shifted forward slightly, but I managed to stop the truck just in time to see a super mutant in a ghillie suit pop out of the undergrowth with his rifle trained on the cab.


    "What do you want, human?" a deep voice growled from somewhere underneath all that foliage.


    "Hi," I smiled at the huge walking bush, and gave him a wave. "I''m here to see Marcus. I''ve got a question for him, he around?" The bush shrugged and snorted.


    "Oh, it''s you. Yeah, go on in. He should be in the center of town." I gave him a nod, and manhandled the car in gear.


    "Thanks, man." As I drove off, I heard a muffled "Whatever," from behind me. The truck trundled along into the center of Jacobstown, and sure enough, Marcus was sitting on one of the benches in the center of town. He was smoking a cigar, and when I finally got out of the truck, I realized... he was facing the direction of the <em>mushroom cloud</em>. He was watching it like he was watching TV.


    Oh hell.


    "Well, well, well." Marcus said, looking over in my direction as smoke curled around his head. "Look who wandered back into my town. I guess I should''ve expected this."


    "Really?" I halted, definitely caught off guard. "Why?" Marcus smiled, grabbed his cigar, and pointed it in the vague direction of the mushroom cloud.


    "Because thest time I saw a nuke that big go off was when the oil rig got vaporized." Marcus started chuckling, curls of smoke blowing out of his nostrils. "Am I right in guessin'' you had a hand in that?"


    "I... uh..." I swallowed hard, grimacing. "I don''t want to talk about it."


    "Fair enough," Marcus said with a shrug. He stuck the cigar back in his mouth and got up off the bench, immediately looming over me in that way super mutants tend to do just naturally. "So, what brings you back to my neck of the woods, Courier?" He looked down at Roxie, who was merrily circling around my feet, and raised a hairless eyebrow. "Don''t tell me it''s another cyberdog problem?"


    "No, no, not at all," I said, scratching the back of my neck nervously. "Actually, I came here because of those old stories of yours  the ones about your time with the Chosen One? You said he travelled with a deathw, right?" Marcus nodded, discing a halo of smoke.


    "Mmhmm. Goris. He was an albino we met in Vault 13. Called himself a schr, but he was pretty decent in a scrap. Hell of a good cook, too, which always surprised me."


    "But, you guys travelled together, right?" I asked, still a bit unsure how I was going to properly segue into the question I <em>really </em>wanted to ask. "Like... did he ever go to towns? With people that could... you know, <em>see</em> a deathw walking around?"


    "Oh sure," Marcus pulled the cigar away again. "We went all over. New Reno, Sac-Town, Redding, Vault City... you name it, we went there."


    "How''d you manage that?" I asked. Marcus didn''t seem to understand. "Well... I mean... most people shoot deathws on sight. Either that or they shit their pants and run for the hills. How''d that Chosen One dude convince people not topletely panic whenever he rolled into town with a deathw in tow?"


    "Well, to be fair... none of us figured out he <em>was</em> a deathw at first. He had this huge bup robe he wore all the time, covered himpletely. Hell, when I first saw him, I thought he was just a hunchback. He always said he was deformed by radiation if anyone in town even bothered to ask. Most people didn''t." As he finished this short trip down memoryne, Marcus looked down at me with narrowed eyes. "Speaking of, why are <em>you</em> so curious all of a sudden?"


    "Well..." I coughed nervously, and let out a sigh. "C''mon, I''ll show you." I turned on my heel and walked to the back of the truck, Marcus and Roxie following close behind. I dropped the tailgate, and grabbed the edge of the cloth p.


    "Oh wow." Marcus said tly.


    "Yeah," I nodded.


    Stripe was asleep, and he was still taking up most of the avable space back there. He was curled up in what he probably thought was a tiny ball, his head resting on his massive, scaly paws. He was breathing steadily, a strange sort of pulsating growl  his own version of a snore, I guess. His massive form rose and fell with every breath, sending ruffles of movement down his furry white mohawk. His nose twitched slightly, but he remained steadfastly asleep.


    "Well, that''s certainly different," Marcus said, rubbing his chin. "Never seen a hairy one quite like that before. Where''d you find him?"


    "Long story," I said, not exactly eager to exin about the Big Empty yet again. The more I told that story, the more I questioned my own sanity. "I didn''t know who else I could take him to. You''re the only one I know who has experience with intelligent, talking deathws. Thing is, he was a lot smaller than this the other day. A <strong>lot</strong> smaller. But the next thing I know, he''s eaten about two dozen animals, and here we are." Marcus raised another hairless eyebrow at me again.


    "Wait... how small are we talking?" he asked.


    "About the size of a cat, maybe?" I chuckled nervously. Marcus'' expression fell, and his brow furrowed intensely, like he was trying to connect the dots and couldn''t quite manage.


    "Are... are you takin'' the piss?" Marcus said, turning to look down at me with narrow eyes.


    "I am being totally serious. I mean, I had a feeling he was going to grow a bit more, but just... not <strong>this</strong> fast." I sighed. "When I looked around his nest, I found a couple of piles of skin and scales that he must shed like a snake, so... I guess deathws molt?" Or maybe Stripe molts because he''s an experiment from the Big Empty. That''s what was going through my head, but it''s like I said before: talking about the Big Empty would probably just confuse the matter needlessly.


    "I... I''m gonna be honest, I''m a bit out of my element here." Marcus started chuckling. "I thought I''d seen everything, travelling with that crazy motherfucker, back in the day. Guess I was wrong."


    "You wouldn''t happen to know where Goris is now, would you? Maybe we could ask him for advice." I knew it was a longshot, but stranger things have happened in thest few weeks. For all I knew, there was a pack of intelligent deathws living in the Mojave that nobody knew about. Sadly not.


    "Nah," Marcus shook his head. "Last I saw, Goris left when most of us went our separate ways. He went back to his father, Gruthar, and the two of them led their pack north. Something about ''yellowknives'' I think, I''m not sure. Point is, nobody has seen any deathws from that pack in almost 40 years."


    "Yeah, I kinda figured as much..." As I leaned against the edge of the truck, Roxie leapt up into the back. She trotted over to the sleeping Stripe, sniffed him, licked his face, and proceeded to settle down into a little ball of metal and fur on top of Stripe''s curled up arms and legs. Stripe''s eye twitched, but remained closed and he snorted loudly, kicking up a small cloud of dust.


    "That dog has a surprising amount of balls," Marcus said, nodding.


    "Doubly surprising, considering Roxie''s a girl," I corrected. Marcusughed a bit at that. "Alright, so Goris is out. Do you know anybody else who might know... about... deathws?" Marcus scratched at the back of his head, shaking the microphone next to his mouth.


    "Hmm... Well, you could always try the Thorn." It took me a minute to connect the name to an image. And then:


    "Oh, yeah," I said with a snap of my fingers. "That''s that ce just outside Westside, isn''t it?" Marcus nodded. "Yeah, I''ve seen the sign, but... never actually checked it out. What is it?"


    "Close as I can figure, it''s some kind of undergroundbat arena. A bit of blood-sport, down in the sewers below Vegas. The girl who runs the ce, Red Lucy, fancies herself a bit of a hunter. Keeps a whole load of animals for the fights down there, if the stories are right  everything from giant mantises to cazadores and deathws."


    "Well, that sounds promising!" I paused to consider the implications, and then added: "Let''s hope she actually knows about taking care of deathws instead of just killing them for sport." Stripe snorted again; I dropped the cloth and grabbed the tailgate to lock it back in ce. "I should probably drop him off at his nest back at the 38 first, though... just to be safe. Don''t really want to enter him into an arena fight by ident."


    "Yeah, that''s probably a good idea." Marcus agreed. As I made my way back to the truck cab, a massive hand patted my shoulder, practically knocking me off bnce. "Good luck with this. I''m sure you''ll figure something out. And if all else fails, I''m sure you can find a big enough tarp he can hide under if you ever need to take him out in public." He grinned broadly.


    "Thanks, Marcus," I said, turning back to sh him a smile. "You''ve been a great help, man."


    "Don''t mention it," he said, taking a long puff of his cigar. "Just remember: if things ever get <em>really</em> strange, don''t hesitate toe on back. I''m the guy to talk to.


    Ding.


    I stepped out of the elevator into the 38''s suite and was met with silence. It wasn''t all that surprising, until I actually started to wander around. Nobody was in the kitchen, nobody was in themon room... I even knocked on some of the bedrooms, just to check, but nobody seemed to be here.


    "The fuck is everyone?" I asked aloud, not really expecting a response.


    "Don''t ask me, man," Cass tired, yawning voice wafted through the air behind me. "I just fuckin'' woke up." She was leaning against the doorframe of my room, rubbing the side of her face blearily. Her hair a tangled mess, and that checkered shirt of hers was mostly open  despite a single corner hastily tucked into her pants.


    "Catching up on sleep?" I asked, sauntering over to her and wrapping a hand around her waist. She smiled, looking up at me through half-lidded eyes.


    "I''m surprised yer not, after all you''ve been through..." One of her hands snaked its way up the front of my armor, and gripped the cor of my duster, bringing me in closer. She leaned against me and whispered huskily in my ear: "You know... we could always fix that..."


    "I think you''re suggesting the <em>opposite</em> of sleep, Cass," I said with a grin. "Tempting... but unfortunately I got work to do." I stole a kiss quickly and slid past her into my room  pausing momentarily when she unexpectedly smacked my ass. Fair enough, I suppose it was her turn.


    "Work, huh?" Cass asked, following me. "What''s up?"


    "Well, there''s a bit of an..." I grimaced, trying to think of how best to phrase this. "...<em>issue</em> with Stripe. I was gonna head over to the Thorn, see if I can get some advice on taking care of deathws. Wannae with?"


    "Sure, sounds like fun," Cass nodded. "So, what''s wrong with the little guy? Has he gotten into the walls? Started chewing on the wiring or something?" Oh dear. This is gonna take some exining, isn''t it?


    "You haven''t seen hisir down in the parking lot, have you?" I asked. Cass shook her head. Before I had a chance to exin, we were interrupted by a bellowing Russian voice. Cass looked like she was about ready to jump out of her skin, and quickly pulled her shirt closed, almost like a reflex action.


    "!" Sasha barked from the spot on the dresser. "You are speaking of tiny talking lizard, ?" I nodded. "Ah, it would be good to speak with him again. Great appreciation of , that one! Wonderful sense of humor!"


    I looked over at Cass (who had, I noticed, hastily buttoned up her shirt), and she shrugged. I plucked her hat and jacket off the floor, tossing them her way before picking up the heavy minigun and wrapping the sling around my head.


    "Alright," I said. "I''m sure Stripe''ll be happy to see you too."


    "Watch your step down here..." I said, trying to shine my Pip Boy light on the concrete walls, in an attempt to find a circuit breaker so I could turn the lights on.


    "Why, what  OH GOD!" Cass recoiled, covering her nose and mouth. "What the fuck is that smell? That''s <em>disgusting</em>!"


    I found the switch and pulled it down with a heavy clunk. The lights flickered to life, and her question was answered by the same view of carnage that had surprised me earlier. It was much the same as I remembered it  the floor was covered in torn up animal parts, along with sttered blood of various shades  with the only addition being the deuce and a half. I hadn''t noticed it when I parked it, but the back tires had rolled right on top of a squashed cazador. That put a smile on my face.


    "Jesus tap dancin'' Christ, dude!" Cass surveyed the carnage with wide eyed horror and disgust. "What the fuck <em>is</em> all this?"


    I was about to answer, but Stripe beat me to it. A deep, bellowing growl (that sounded suspiciously like a yawn, if I''m honest...) echoed out of the back of the deuce. There was a bark, and Roxie bounded out of the back of the tailgate... followed by a pair of massive ws. Next thing I knew, Stripe crawled out of the back with a fluidity and gracepletely at odds with his immense stature.


    "Hey, Stripe," I said, walking up to the massive deathw with Sasha in hand. Stripe rubbed the back of one of his paws against the side of his face, like someone wiping the gunk out of their eyes. "You have a nice rest?"


    "<strong>Yesss...</strong>" Stripe grunted out, apparently still a bit tired. "<strong>Good sleep.</strong>" Roxie barked, and Stripe jerked his head up slightly, before starting to nod back down again.


    ", Stripe!" Sasha bellowed from his spot in my arms. "   !" That got Stripe''s attention; he snapped both eyes open and leaned down to inspect the minigun curiously. And then, Stripe did somethingpletely unexpected again:


    "<strong>?</strong>" Stripe asked, in a perfect mimic of Sasha''s voice  only deeper. "<strong>   ?</strong>" Before I knew what was happening, the two of them started barking at each other in Russian. Roxie was shifting her focus back and forth between the two of them, like she was watching a tennis match.


    "I''m gonna be honest. I did not call that one." And yet, somehow, I still wasn''t all that surprised. It was unexpected, sure, but it made sense in a twisted sort of way. A pair of hands gripped at my shoulder, and I looked back to see a very scared looking Cass hiding behind me.


    "Sheason, what th'' fuck is goin'' on?!" She asked desperately.


    "This is the issue I was talking about," I said. "I mean... not the two of them talking Russian. That''s new. I''m talking about how Stripe has gotten so much bigger. He''s gonna be a lot harder to hide in public, so, I''m going to the Thorn to see about getting some advice."


    "But he''s <em>huge</em>!" Cass practically hissed. "He was <em>tiny</em> the other day! What the fuck!?"


    Suddenly, Stripe looked away from his conversation with Sasha, and focused on Cass. He leaned in, over my shoulder, and Cass tried to lean back away from him. He sniffed the air above her head... and before she could react, he opened his mouth and licked her face with his gigantic slimy ck tongue. Her hat was knocked away, and Cass froze, standing there in paralyzed shock. I must have looked exactly the same, earlier.


    "<strong>Hello, Beta!</strong>" Stripe snorted again, nodding at Cass. "<strong>You are looking strong today!</strong>" Cass did not move.


    "I... eh... er... aug..." Cass stammered out, one side of her face covered in saliva. Stripe responded by squeaking at her, which just seemed to confuse her more.


    "You''re doing this on purpose now, aren''t you?" I said, raising an eyebrow in Stripe''s direction. He stared at me, tilting his head to the side as if he didn''t understand the question.


    "<strong>Doing what?</strong>" I sighed and shook my head, turning back to Cass.


    "Don''t worry," I reached into my duster and pulled out a cloth, moving to try and wipe the slime off her face. "It feels disgusting, but it evaporates pretty quickly." After I finished clearing most of the gunk off Cass'' face, I picked her hat up off the floor, plonked it on her head, and patted her shoulder, smiling all the while. She still looked shaken, but she seemed to be slowly regaining her senses.


    "Sheason," Sasha said as soon as I put the cloth away. "I have small request for you."


    "What''s up?" I asked, looking down at the minigun. The two metal ears twitched as he spoke.


    "Stripe and I have been talking, and we have idea. Is good idea. Very good idea, we would like to give more detail. Can you leave me here, so Stripe and I can talk more while you head to Thorn location?"


    "Sure," I said, not really having the heart to tell him that leaving him down here to talk with Stripe was why I brought him down here in the first ce.


    "<strong>!</strong>" Sasha bellowed, apanied by a satisfied bellow from Stripe. I pulled the strap around my head, and was about to put Sasha in the back of the truck... but Stripe turned his gigantic paws upside down, showing me his palms. So, I shrugged, and ced Sasha in Stripe''s massive wed hands; he took hold of the minigun rather gingerly and held it close, the deathw cradling the cyberdog gun like he was holding a baby. The braincase under the minigun barrels shed, and I heard a synthetic bark.


    "Trust me, Sheason  you will like this idea!"


    Cass seemed to have (mostly) recovered by the time we reached the entrance to the Thorn.


    "Why are you such a fuckin'' weirdness ma, man?" Cass asked as the two of us got out of my Corvega. "I mean, this crazy shit only ever happens when you''re around!" I shrugged, locking my car and walking with her to the entrance.


    "I dunno what to tell you."


    "Every once in a while, it''s kinda cool, but I think it''s startin'' to get out of hand," Cass said with a sigh.


    "You are preachin'' to the choir," I said, leaning down to get a look down the entrance. If it wasn''t for the wooden fences and the signs that said "THORN" with the big red arrow made out of the bottom of the "R" pointing down, this would just look like an open manhole that led down to the sewers.


    It was a pretty short drop, and the smell waspletely surprising. I was expecting raw sewage, but what I got was barbequed meat and the sting of burning fire. It was dark and dingy down here, and at first all I saw was a guard in leather armor with a rifle on his back, a door, and a burning oil drum.


    "What''s your business, stranger?" the guard said from his spot leaning against the wall. "Entertainment? Blood? Or something else entirely?" I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what to make of that.


    "I''m looking for Red Lucy. I was told I could find her here?" The guard nodded his head and chuckled, smacking a button on the wall. The door slid open with a grind of rust and metal.


    "Heh. Another ''hunter'' looking to prove his worth? You''ll find her in the central tform, overlooking the arena. Good luck... and wee to the Thorn, stranger." I looked back at Cass, who just shrugged, and the two of us headed inside.


    If anything could''ve been called an absurdly spacious sewer, this ce definitely qualified. The walls may have been dismal and covered in rust, but after a pair of turns down wide hallways (lit with more burning oil drums) we found ourselves in a positively cavernous chamber. There were several tforms surrounding a pit in the center, including a mass of bleachers made out of wood and scrap metal. The crowd in the stands were shouting and cheering hysterically, waving fists in the air and crying for blood.


    "Damn," Cass said with a whistle, leaning through an open window to get a better look. The pit was illuminated from above, and I saw a mass of carnage. A gigantic albino radscorpion was thrashing in the center, tearing into half a dozen nightstalkers with almostical ease. It lifted a nightstalker in the air with one of its massive ws, and snapped it clean in half like someone cutting a piece of paper; the crowd erupted in cheers.


    "I think that must be her," I said, pointing to a figure standing on a tform directly above the arena. She was wearing a trenchcoat and was standing with her backs to us, holding onto a microphone suspended from the ceiling. Her hair was bright red, and she had a massive hunting shotgun slung across her back. As the two of us tried to find a way around to her, she spoke into the mic. Her voice distorted by the echo of the chamber, and yet... there was something familiar about it that I couldn''t quite ce...


    "The Thorn has heard your calls for blood, and the Thorn will always answer! Even faced with the threat of so many nightstalkers, they''re no match for the mighty Mortem Imperator!" The crowd cheered again, and a nightstalker head was thrown into the air, trailing blood. "Once again, he is victorious! Savor this moment, my children! Partake in the joys of victory, for the day has been long, and the Thorn needs time to soak its tribute of blood!"


    There were a few more cheers, but shortly after the crowd started to disperse. Lucy stayed where she was, watching as the stands started to slowly empty. As Cass and I made our way along one of the catwalks that led to her tform, I looked down into the pit; the floor looked a bit like Stripe''sir, covered in blood and body parts. Six men were on one side of the albino radscorpion, encouraging it into an open cage with... were those cattle prods? Yeah, they were really long, electrified cattle prods.


    "Uh... are you Red Lucy?" I asked when we got close enough. She didn''t say anything at first  she kept surveying the pit until the radscorpion was safely behind the metal door.


    "Another eager supplicant to the Thorn, eh?" She said with her back to us. "What is it you seek of the -" As soon as she turned around to look at me, she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes going wide. "Ah  wh  <em>Sheason</em>?"


    Ah, <em>that</em> exins why her voice sounded so familiar!


    "<em>Jessie</em>?" I said, failing to hold back a smile. "Jessica! It is you! Hah! What the hell are you doing here?" In a sh, she rushed up to me, covering my mouth with both her hands, a furious expression on her face.


    "Shhhhh-shht-shh-shhhh-shh-sh!" she hissed through gritted teeth, looking around wide eyed. I couldn''t tell  was that anger or worry? "<em>Oh, shut up, you motherfucker!</em>" she whispered, before looking around nervously onest time and yelling. "The Thorn demands respect! You''ve dishonored this sacred ground, and I don''t tolerate such offense! It''s time to teach you a lesson!"


    The next thing I knew, she was behind me, pushing both Cass and myself away from the tform and into a nearby room. I can''t speak for Cass, but I was too stunned to speak. This was a curveball I couldn''t have predicted. Not that I''mining, mind. It was just a bit far fetched  even with how strange my life has beentely.


    "What the fuck is going on?" Cass yelled when the door closed behind us. "Who <em>are </em>you?!" I looked around, and realized we were in a small lounge, with a big sofa, several chairs, a fully stocked bar, and walls jam-packed with stuffed animal heads, horns, and mounted guns.


    "I don''t know you, I''ll get to you in a minute," Jessica said, pointing a finger at Cass before advancing on me. "YOU! How the fuck did you find me?"


    "I didn''t even know you were here!" I admitted, stillughing a bit. "I was looking for Red Lucy! I didn''t think it would be..." I gestured to all of her. "... you know, <em>you</em>." She shook her head, gritting her teeth, and buried her face in her hands.


    "Oh for Christ''s sake..."


    "Could someone exin what th'' fuck is goin'' on?" Cass asked, leaning against the armrest of the sofa. Before she could object, I grabbed Jessica by the shoulder, pulling her to my side, and momentarily shaking her free of exasperation.


    "Cass, I''d like you to meet Jessica. She''s an old friend of mine back when I was living in Sac-Town." At first, she looked up at me annoyed... but sighed, and apparently decided to roll with it.


    "Old friend is pushing it, I think," she said, narrowing her eyes at me. "More like <em>you''d</em> get us both in trouble, and <em>I''d</em> do my best to get us out."


    "Oh,e on now," I let her go with a smile. "You can''t still be mad about that business with the hardware store."


    "I ended up smelling like engine grease for a month afterword!" She said, flicking me in the forehead. "Not to mention the tetanus shots!"


    "Hey, how was I supposed to know they had a crate full of mole rats, huh? And seriously  who keep them in the <em>ceiling</em>? Nobody could''ve predicated that!" She sighed and shook her head.


    "Maybe not, but the Radio Tower was <empletely </em>your fault, and don''t you try to deny it!" she said, prodding me in the chest. "If it wasn''t for your shenanigans, the Shi might never have shown up, and we could''ve gotten away clean! But ohhh no! You just <em>had </em>to sh your ass at those pricks!"


    Before I could get caught up in yet another argument, Cass (who had been watching this unfold) decided to speak up and bring the two of us somewhat closer to reality.


    "Oh, I get it. You two used to be fuck-buddies, didn''cha?" Jessie stared at Cass in horror, apparently startled that Cass figured it out so easily. "Yeah, you two were totally doin'' it. You bicker like an old married couple." I justughed.


    "Well, when you put it like <em>that</em>, it sounds bad."


    "What, fuck-buddies?" Cass asked.


    "No, old married couple." Cass and I both startedughing, and Jessica just sighed again.


    "Why are you <em>here</em>?" Jessica asked, moving away from me and making a beeline for the bar. Well, the more things change...


    "It''s like I told you," I said, moving over to the couch, flopping down in the middle. "I was looking for Red Lucy. I didn''t expect <em>you</em> to be <em>her</em>. Last I remember, you were leaving Sac-Town with that drummer, trying to start up that band. What happened to that, what''s all this ''Red Lucy'' business?" Jessica grumbled, shaking her head and pouring herself a drink.


    "The band didn''t work out," she knocked back a slug of whiskey as punctuation. "Band drama broke it up. Reggie left me for the guitarist, and things kinda fell to pieces after that."


    "What, <em>Maurice</em>?" I asked; she nodded. Huh. I wouldn''t have pegged the two of them for that. Good for them.


    "Yeah, well," Jessica sighed. "I''m sure you can appreciate that I needed a drastic change in my life after that. I headed south. Ended up here. Nobody knew my real name, nobody knew anything about me or my past... so I decided to make something up. I created this whole persona..." She cleared her throat, and she raised a fist to the sky, reciting a prepared speech in an overly melodramatic tone: "<em>Wee to </em><em><strong>The Thorn</strong></em><em>! Where the mor of bloodthirsty crowds reach every corner of The Wastnd! Where the strong make a name for themselves, and the weak are fed to the jaws of Hell!</em>" She leaned back andughed. "It''s been fun so far. It''s not every day you get a chance to start fresh."


    "Let go, and begin again, huh?" I muttered, chuckling slightly. "Been running into that mentality a lottely... Is that your excuse for the red hair? You used to be blonde, as I recall." Jessie shrugged, and took another drink.


    "Can''t very well have ''Red'' Lucy without red hair, now, can we?"


    "I guess not," I nodded, suppressing a smile. Somehow, I had the sneaking suspicion that the <em>real </em>reason for the hair was due to her love of those old Grognak the Barbarianics. Give her a pair of swords and a chainmail bikini, and she''d be the spitting image of Femme-Ra. "It suits you."


    "Thanks," she said, leaning back against the bar. "So, now you know what I''ve been up to thest few years. What about you? What bring you to the Mojave?"


    "Well, you know how these things go," I shrugged,ced my fingers behind my head, and leaned back against the surprisinglyfortable couch. "One day you''re just delivering packages and the next thing you know, you get shot in the head and everyone who wants a piece of Vegas wants a piece of you as well." She stared at me curiously  and then the lightbulb lit up over her head.


    "Oh God, don''t tell me," she chuckled, rubbing her temple. "<em>You''re</em> that Courier everyone keeps talking about, aren''t you?"


    "Guilty as charged," I shrugged, unable to hold back a shit-eating grin.


    "I should''ve known," Jessie shook her head, stillughing. "You never did know how to keep out of trouble."


    "Maybe not, but I''d like to think I''ve been doing alright so far," I said with a smile. "It''s nice to see you again. You look good." She chuckled once, looking down to try and hide her own smile.


    "Thanks... you too." She coughed nervously.


    "So..." Cass leaned in from her spot on the arm rest. "Are you two gonna bang, or what? Cuz if you are, I could always leave  or join in, whichever you want. I''m game." She grinned at the two of us like the Cheshire cat. I was half expecting her to disappear, leaving only her hat.


    "HAH! Yeah, that''s not gonna happen again..." Jess muttered into her ss before finishing off her drink. "I''ve already been in that car crash once, thank you very much."


    "Oh, not this again!" I said, knowing <em>exactly </em>what she was referencing there. "It was a patch of ck ice on a ck road <em>in the middle of the night</em>! Neither of us saw it until the truck started to spin out, and you know it!"


    "You flipped the bitch!" She riposted. "The truck ended up on its roof, jammed between a tree and amppost! We were trapped in there for an hour and a half!"


    "We were <em>fine</em>," I waved the air in front of my face, dismissively. "We both walked away from that, didn''t we?"


    "You set the airbags off, man!"


    "To be honest, I didn''t think that truck <em>had</em> airbags..."


    "OI!" Cass snapped her fingers at the two of us. "Fuckheads! C''mon, focus!" She turned to face Jessica fully. "We''re here because we need some deathw tips."


    "Deathw... <em>tips</em>?" Jessie cocked her head to the side, "Do I even want to know?"


    "Let''s say, <em>hypothetically</em>," I started. "That a talking deathw started following me, and I don''t know the first thing about taking care of deathws. What do you think I should do in this situation?"


    "Okay, stop for a minute," Jess held out a hand. "Back up. I think you''re gonna have to run that by me again. A talking <em><strong>what</strong></em>?"


    "Alright, alright, I''ll..." I sighed. For as much as I didn''t want to try and exin the madness of the Big Empty <strong>again</strong>, I guess I had no choice this time. "Pull up a chair. This could take a while..."


    "Well, this has been a wasted exercise," I grumbled as Cass and I headed back to my car.


    "What d''you mean?" She scooted ahead of me, hopping up to sit on the hood of my car. I sidled up next to her, leaning against the front wings, and making a pointed effort to <strong>not</strong> look at the massive mushroom cloud hanging over our heads.


    "I just still don''t know what to do about Stripe," I said with a sigh. "I''ve spent all this time, running around, trying to find somebody who knows how to take care of deathws - or move them in public without people going nuts  and nobody knows anything useful."


    "To be fair to the little  er, <em>big</em> guy," Cass smirked. "Stripe seems like he can take care of himself."


    "True. But I thought we might at least get some ideas from the Thorn, but nope! <em>Of course</em> they breed those things down there, so nobody knows how to move a deathw on the surface without being noticed. Which is not helpful. Not to mention, I don''t think Marcus'' suggestion of covering him in a bup sack is feasible, either."


    "Yeah, it would definitely be tricky finding a sack big enough..." Cass nodded, leaning back on her elbows.


    "More like Stripe is too huge to be mistaken for anything other than a deathw. I dunno. Just feels like it''s been a wasted day."


    "Well, it can''t have been all bad," Cass sat up, leaned against me, draped an arm around my shoulder, and started counting off with her free hand. "Look at it like this: you''ve had some food, you got some rest, you haven''t been shot at even once today..."


    "Not being shot is definitely a point in today''s favor, I''ll give you that," I agreed.


    "Exactly! Plus, you got to run into an old friend you haven''t seen in years, and that''s always good for augh."


    I grimaced slightly. Yeah, it was certainly a novelty to run into her after all these years (and strangely gratifying to discover that she was still hot), but if I''m honest? She''d changed <strong>a lot</strong>, and not for the better. I''m not a fan of things like nightstalkers or cazadores, and I''ll kill the damn things if theye at me with the intent of turning me into a sandwich, but... I dunno. The whole setup they had going on made me feel distinctly ufortable. Breeding these dangerous animals down there, locking them in filthy cages with no sunlight, and moving them from ce to ce by way of electrified cattle prods just so they could die viciously for amusement carried with it some rather unfortunate implications. And when she was talking about it, Jess seemed... just a little bit too <em>in </em>to it. I just couldn''t understand how someone I used to know so well had be so... unrecognizable.


    It almost made me wonder how I looked from her point of view.


    "I think you''re just saying that because you were too busy ogling her." I said, trying to force my train of thought back on the rails. I absentmindedly wrapped my hand around her waist as I talked, and Cass shrugged.


    "Hey, I couldn''t help it, she''s a fox! You got good taste, man."


    "Thanks for that," I sighed. "But let''s be clear: the two of us bickering like that was par for the course, especially back in the day. Its fun at first, but it definitely gets old after a while... and after a while that was <strong>all</strong> we were doing."


    "Sounds to me like you dodged a bit of a bullet, then," Cass said. I chuckled, smiling at her and drawing her closer.


    "I guess so. I suppose I''ve always been lucky."


    "Not always," Cass smiled back at me, waggling her eyebrows. "But probably tonight."

 Chapter 135: Slow Boil

    Chapter 135: Slow Boil


    The smell of coffee was in the air.


    I emerged, bleary eyed and groggy, from my room. I barely knew who or where I was, I just knew that the smell was promising coffee from somewhere. It got stronger as I stumbled through the haze and fog clouding up my mind until the smell was right in front of me. My eyes opened just enough to register the steaming cup of wondrous brown liquid in front of my face.


    "Morning, sunshine," Arcade''s voice echoed from somewhere. "I thought that might wake you up. Barry suggested that particr strain of coffee for rousing heavy sleepers."


    I think I grunted out an acknowledgement of some kind. Slowly  carefully, so as not to spill the precious brown liquid  I brought the coffee to my lips.


    My eyes snapped open and the world exploded into stark focus.


    "I say!" I eximed with augh. I sighed, taking another sip. "Oh, that''s magnificent!" Arcade grinned broadly back at me.


    "Good, isn''t it?"


    "It is fantastic, you beautiful man!" I said, taking yet another sip and savoring the heady aroma. "I could kiss you!"


    "Is that a promise?" he retorted, without hesitation. I paused, blinking for a few seconds as I tried to work out exactly what it was I''d just said. I briefly wondered if Barry had altered the beans in some subtle yet tantly obvious way when cloning the seeds. Honestly, I wouldn''t have put it past that smooth-talking sex machine from The Sink. Arcade just started chuckling at my apparent confusion, clearly bemused by the whole thing.


    "Give me some time to wake up properly, and I''ll let you know," I said, finishing off the cup.


    A few hours, several trips to The Sink and back, and two pots of coffeeter, I was in themon room. I was sitting on the couch and surrounding me was a motley collection of equipment, technology, and all the tools I''d need shoved into a nearby toolbox. Most of the clutter was on the coffee table, but there was far too much of it to fit; some of it was on the cushions on either side of me, and some of it had fallen on the floor.


    "You seem focused," Cass said suddenly. I hadn''t heard here in and was so startled I practically jumped several feet in the air. I fumbled awkwardly with the motor and tiny torque wrench in my hands for several seconds, frantically trying to keep them from falling; Cass justughed, sitting herself down on one of the adjacent easy chairs.


    "Fuckin'' hell, Cass! Gimmie some warning, next time!" I said, gently cing the motor and wrench back down on the table once I was sure there wasn''t a danger of breaking them. Cass shot me a peculiar look and started chuckling.


    "What, you can stare down deathws without battin'' an eye, but you''re startled by lil'' ol'' me?" She shook her head. "That shit don''t add up, Fisher."


    "I suppose not," I said with a shrug, leaning back against the sofa. "What can I say? I guess I''m just a paradox." Cass shot me another curious look, and started shaking her head.


    "Right... whatever. So, what is all this crap, anyway?" Cass asked, looking at everything collected all around me.


    "Funny thing about mad scientists," I began, reaching for my coffee; I was gonna need another refill soon. "A lot of the time, they''ll start working on projects, but then something will distract them. They''ll get bored, they''ll shelve it, and then they''ll move on to the next thing that catches their interest in an unfinished cycle of unfinished projects. And sometimes, those useful projects don''t even need a brilliant mind to get finished... all they require is a mind that isn''t as easily distracted."


    "So?" Cass asked, looking at everything again, apparently trying to figure out where I was going with this. "That doesn''t really answer my question."


    "I found a couple of projects in the Big Empty," I continued. "On their own, they might not seem like much, but might be useful if used correctly. Take this, for example." I reached across the table for a spool of metal cable. "This metal wire rope is made out of carbon fiber nanotubes woven together with a titanium-saturnite alloy. It''s very thin - less than an eighth of an inch across  and yet, it can withstand up to 400 kilo newtons of force. That what a one-inch thick steel cable can take before snapping."


    "Okay..." Cass leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. I set down the metal wire and picked up the motor I''d been working on earlier.


    "This motor still needs a few tweaks, but once its hooked up to something like an MF cell or an EC pack, it should be able to spin at 30,000 rpm. If I''ve done the math right, it''ll produce just shy of 10,000 pounds feet of torque."


    "Oh, <em>you</em> did th'' math, huh?" Cass didn''t seem to believe me, but I was on a roll. I set down the motor, and picked up a small pistol that wasn''t actually a pistol at all.


    "Now, this is a miniaturized harpoon gun. It usespressed nitrogen gas to propel a small projectile  a tiny spear, a dart, a crossbow bolt, maybe a grappling hook  at incredibly high speeds over extremely long distances. If it''s aimed right, then whatever''s fired can bury itself into wood, solid rock, concrete, metal, you name it."


    "Get to th'' point, man!" Cass leaned back, shaking her head. "Th'' fuck is all this about, anyway?"


    "The point is this," I put the harpoon gun down, grabbed a rolled up blueprint that I''d printed out during one of my trips to The Sink, and handed it to her. She unrolled it, looking it over for several seconds with a raised eyebrow.


    "A grapnel gun? Am I readin'' that right?" She asked, a bit unsure. I nodded.


    "With any luck, I can get everything finished and put together by the end of the day, so I can start testing it out. If it works, it''ll make navigating certain situations a hell of a lot easier." Cass rolled up the blueprint and shook her head, handing it back to me.


    "I''m getting'' a distinct ''Batman'' vibe offa this," she smirked. "Have you been readin'' those old Detective Comics again?"


    "No!" I said defensively, just a little bit too quickly. Cass, to no ones surprise, didn''t believe me. So I backed up slightly. "Well, alright, yes, a bit. But that''s not the real reason I''m making this. I''m doing this because..." I paused, faltering slightly as images from The Divide shed through my head. "It''s because of ED-E. When we went through The Divide together, he kept telling me how..." I swallowed, as my mouth had suddenly and inexplicably dried up. "...how a grappling hook might have made the going easier. And, I just..."


    "Mmm..." Cass hummed. I tried to clear my throat.


    "It was a good idea. And I''m gonna try and make the most of it."


    "Yeah, alright. Y''made yer point," Cass nodded somberly. After a few seconds of silence, she added: "I''m gonna miss the little guy."


    "Yeah," I sighed. "Yeah, me too..." I started fiddling with the motor again, but with considerably less gusto than before. Themon room was once again silent for several minutes. While I worked, Cass slouched in the easy chair, watching me.


    "Alright, changing the subject: I gotta ask," Cass said, pointing vaguely in my direction. "What''s yer secret?" I looked up at her from my spot on the couch, staring at her quizzically.


    "What?" I asked. "The fuck are you talking about?"


    "Well, I''m just thinkin'' out loud here," Cass leaned back even more, throwing a leg over one of the chair''s arms. "But all the shit we''ve done thest few months, and I don''t see a single hole on those jeans. How th'' fuck are those damn things not torn to shreds by now?"


    I looked down at my pants, and then up at Cass like she''d gone nuts. Enough people had looked at <em>me</em> like I''d gone crazytely, so I guess it was my turn.


    "Uh... because I only got these the other day? I picked them up at Mick and Ralph''s for, like, next to nothing." Cass narrowed her eyes, looking confused. "I''m serious. I''ve gone through about ten pairs of pants sinceing out to the Mojave. The rips you can just sew up, and mud washes out, but blood''s <strong>hell</strong> to shift! Once it dries, that shit neveres out. You might as well just get new at that point. And with the amount I''ve been shot at thest few weeks..."


    "Are you fuckin'' with me?" Cass smiled and started chuckling. "Ten pairs! What th'' fuck, man!"


    "Did you seriously think I''d been wearing the same pair of pants all this time?" I asked. Cass shrugged and nodded.


    I cast a nce down. Normally, I''d be looking because she has nice legs (and a FANTASTIC ass, lets bepletely honest), but the longer I looked at her <em>jeans</em>, the more details I noticed. There were easily more than two dozen rips and tears in the denim, including a particrly nasty row of holes on her left leg. All the patches she''d roughly sewn over the few holes she''d even bothered to try and fix. There was caked-on mud that was almost solidified on the bottom of her pant legs. There were tiny droplets of discoloration from dried blood that almost looked like they''d been burned into the fabric. To say nothing of how those <em>blue</em> jeans were practically <em>grey </em>now...


    "Cass..." I carefully set the motor and my tools back down on the table. "When was thest time you changed your trousers?"


    "Uh..." Cass scratched at her head, her hat going slightly askew. "I dunno. Like... two years ago?"


    Cass and I were on our feet barely a secondter. I was holding onto Cass'' wrist, intent on dragging her to the elevator, and she was so surprised that she just went along with it. I stopped briefly at the entrance to the kitchen; Boone was cleaning his rifle at one end of the table, Arcade was reaching into the fridge for a ss of brahmin milk, and Veronica was reading an old copy of Future Weapons Today.


    "Guys, the two''ve us are headin'' out," I said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "I need to get Cass out of these filthy fuckin'' pants of hers."


    I paused, realizing what I''d just said, and mentally started kicking myself.


    "Wait, hang on, that didn''t -" I started to say, but Veronica cut me off.


    "You know," Veronica set her magazine down with measured movements, and scrunched up her face in a look that spoke of IMMENSE frustration. "If you two wanna shag, go for it. You don''t have to hide it anymore. Just... don''t..." She sighed, rubbing her temple. "Don''t shove it my face, dude."


    "Okay, let me rephrase that."


    "Fuckin'' hell. I hate shoppin''." Cass grumbled as she looked over the pants hanging on the clothes rack. The two of us were in one of the corners of Mick and Ralph''s, looking over a surprisingly extensive selection of clothes.


    "You know, most girls have to drag guys like me kicking and screaming when they go clothes shopping." Cass snorted.


    "Yeah, well, I ain''t most girls. When I was kid, I never wore skirts. I didn''t y with dolls. I never wanted a fuckin'' pony. When I turned ten, I got a <strong>shotgun</strong>. What does that tell ya?"


    "You never wanted a pony?" I asked, knowing full well it would needle her. "Not even one of those Giddyup Buttercup toys?"


    "Pfft. Hell no." Cass grabbed a pair of jeans off the rack, looking it over. "The one time I found one, I scrapped that bitch for parts."


    "Yeah?"


    "Fuck yeah. I needed the screws." She held the jeans up against one of her legs, trying to see if they''d fit without actually trying them on. "What''d you think? This gonna work?"


    "Try ''em on, and see," I said, believing myself to be stating the obvious. Cass let out a frustrated sigh.


    "<em><strong>Fuuuuuuuuuuck!</strong></em> I hate tryin'' on new pants!"


    "Oh, quit whining, ya big baby," Iughed, pping her on the shoulder. After a bit more grumbling, she disappeared into a nearby dressing room. For the next minute or so, the only thing I heard was a string of muffled grunts and swears. To be honest, I was starting to get a bit concerned, so I rapped my knuckles against the door. "You alright in there?"


    "I''m  nnf!  keep yer shirt on, motherfucker, I''min''!" Cass emerged wearing the new pair, but was still trying to adjust the pants by shaking her hips and pulling the jeans up by the belt loops. The contrast with her old pair (which had been discarded on top of her boots in the corner) was startling; these were actually <em>blue</em>, for a start. Apart from a bit of fraying at the edges and a small stitch on the thigh, they might as well have been brand new.


    "Well? What''s the verdict?" I asked.


    "I dunno... Feels kinda tight." She turned around (giving me a <em>tremendous </em>view of her shapely backside), looked over her shoulder, and rubbed a hand against her hip. "This doesn''t make my ass look big, does it?"


    I couldn''t help but smile, savoring the irony.


    "You <strong>do</strong> realize what you just asked, right?" A look ofprehension washed over her face like she''d been hit with a bucket of ice water. "And here you are, saying you''re not a girl. Methinks thedy doth protest too much."


    "Oh, fuck you, I''m serious! Feels like I''m barely squeezin'' into this damn thing! S''like my ass is stickin'' out a good six feet somewhere over there, fer fuck sake!" She waved her hand off in a general direction to her right. "I''m afraid if I sit down, they''ll rip in half!"


    "Cass, I am going to be more honest with you than I have ever been before," I knelt down, still unable to wipe the smile from my face, and stretched out my hands on either side of her posterior as if to say ''BEHOLD!'' She just looked down at me curiously. "Your ass is <em>superb</em>."


    "Whaaaat." She said tly. I couldn''t tell  was that annoyance?


    "It''s true!" I said. "It''s fantastic! It''s glorious! In days of old, wars were fought, armies wouldy siege, and hundreds of men would die in search and defense of treasures less magnificent..." I paused for dramatic effect. "... than <strong>THAT ASS</strong>!"


    Cass shook her head and sighed, trying desperately not tough, and only mostly seeding as I got back up on my feet.


    "You are such a goof," she said, unable to hold back any longer. She let out something like a cross between augh, a snort, and a hup. "Oh, damn it all..." And that was that. The two of us started howling. We leaned up against each other for support, until we finally got rid of the giggles.


    "Okay, okay, look..." Deep breaths, Sheason. It wasn''t <em>that </em>funny. "If you think it''s that big a deal, grab something else. With all the fighting we get up to, it''s probably smarter to get something a bit baggier with a decent range of movement, anyway. Of course..." I grabbed one of her belt loops with a finger, pulling her in close to me, and slid a hand across her waist and down into one of her back pockets. "You could always keep this pair... for the fun of takin'' em'' off..."


    Cass snorted augh at the tantly cheesy line (or maybe it was the absurdly over the top eyebrow waggling I was giving her), but bit her lower lip all the same. I felt her hand snake up the edge of my chest and she leaned in closer...


    "<strong>Ahem</strong>." A gruff voice brought us back to reality; Ralph was standing a few feet away from us, hairy arms folded over his id, button up, short-sleeved shirt, and eyes mostly hidden under a tangled mass of wavy ck hair. As soon as he was sure he had our attention, he pointed at a sign on the wall above the dressing rooms. Cass and I both looked.


    "No sex in the changing rooms  store policy." I said aloud. I turned back and started stammering, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. "Oh, hey, no, no, we  we weren''t... uh... I mean..." Cass, on the other hand, just leaned to the side, with one arm still hooked around my neck.


    "Seriously?" she asked. "Y''had t''put up a sign?" Ralph shrugged.


    "It''s moremon than you might think. But Mickey got tired of always having to clean up the mess afterword." He turned, and yelled at the back of the store. "Ain''t that right, Mick?"


    "Fuck you, Ralph!" a voice sounded off from somewhere in the back, behind one of the cluttered shelves, but I couldn''t actually see him.


    "Only if you buy me dinner first!" Ralph shot back, with the ease of practiced precision. A cluster of indistinct swears murmured from the back of the store. Ralph turned back to us with a smug smile. "He''s still so wound up, even after all these years. It''s almost too easy."


    "I''d say this was a sessful outing, wouldn''t you?" I asked as Cass and I walked out of the store and over to my car parked across the street. She nodded.


    "Alright, yeah, I admit. I was a little overdue for a new pair''ve jeans. Thanks."


    "More than a little overdue..." I said, absentmindedly. Something else had just got my attention.


    Someone was standing next to my car, looking around suspiciously. He wasn''t anywhere near the doors, and it didn''t look like he was trying to break in, but his shifty eyes under a short-brim fedora was making me all manner of suspicious. I held out a hand to stop Cass as subtly as I could; once she was stopped, I cautiously approached, the fingers of my cybeic hand flexing slightly.


    "Hi there," I said aloud. He jerked his head up at the sound. "Can I help you?"


    "Oh... uh..." He cleared his throat. "Hey. You... you''re the Courier, aren''t you?" He was only mostly looking at me. He kept ncing from side to side, like he was expecting someone.


    More rm bells red inside my head. I unbuttoned the holster on my hip as subtly as I could manage and my hand hovered above Roscoe.


    "Who''s askin''?" Behind me, I heard Cass drop her bag with an unceremonious thump and grab the shotgun off her back that she''d been carrying with her.


    "I ain''t lookin'' fer trouble, man," he said, raising his hands after noticing the shotgun. "I already got enough of that on my te. That''s kinda why I tried to find you." I raised an eyebrow. "My name''s Carlitos. Carlitos Wayne. Word on the street is if you got a problem you think is too big to be fixed, find the blue Corvega. The Courier can help  just so long as you don''t get on his bad side." He looked up at me fully, desperation evident in his eyes. "You that guy?"


    "Maybe," I said, still not quite calm yet. "What''s the problem?" Carlitos looked around again, nervously.


    "I''d rather not say. Not out in the open like this." He cleared his throat again. "If it''s all the same to you."


    "Hang on a minute," I said, tossing a look to Cass; her shotgun was resting against her shoulder, and she shrugged, apparently not knowing what to make of this either. "I''d like to confer with my colleague first, if you don''t mind. Fair?"


    "Yeah... yeah, that''s fair." He nodded, moving away from my car. Cass headed back to pick up her discarded bag, and I followed her.


    "What do you think?" I asked in a hushed whisper. Cass slung the bag over her shoulder and scrunched up her face.


    "I dunno," she whispered back. "He seems shifty, but not, like... <em>dangerous </em>shifty. More like..."


    "Like he''s worried someone''s gonna try and kill him," I finished for her. She nodded.


    "I say we hear him out and go from there," she said. I nodded back.


    "Tell you what," I said, turning back to Carlitos. "The two of us were nning on getting a bite to eat around the corner. If you want, you can join us. Tell me your troubles there, and I''ll... tell you if I can help or not."


    "Alright," I settled down in the booth, Cass to my left and Carlitos sitting opposite me on the other side of the table. We''d ended up going to Buck''s Steak House  it was a buffet, so we wouldn''t have to worry about any waiters overhearing  and the three of us found a quiet booth away from the noisy lunchtime crowds. I <em>did</em> keep Roscoe''s holster unbuttoned, however. Just in case. "Why don''t you start the beginning? What''s the problem?"


    "I guess it all started a couple months ago. A while back, I was a Made Man. My fingers worked the magic, and my hands dealt the luck. Nobody but nobody pulled in as many caps as I could when I ran the tables." The bottlecap dropped, and I finally figured out who this guy was.


    "Wait... are you an Omerta? One of the dealers, right?" I asked. He nodded.


    "Damn straight! Or... well..." He coughed. "I <em>was</em>. The best they had. There wasn''t a yer who stood a chance, no wiseguy who didn''t fear me, and no doll who could resist me. Gomorrah was <strong>my</strong> turf, y''know?"


    "So what''s the problem?" Cass asked, digging into her ribeye.


    "I met a girl," he said simply, and I forced myself to pull a straight face. Of <em>course</em> it was a girl... "Joana. She was... beautiful doesn''t evene close. When I first met her, she was working at the Atomic Wrangler. I must have gone to see her every day for a month... and then... then things got serious."


    "You didn''t tell her you loved her, did you?" I asked. I had a sneaking suspicion that ''working'' at the Atomic Wrangler meant she was a hooker, rather than a waitress, and if that was the case, then it was possible that this situation was all manner of stupid. Carlitos shook his head.


    "No, man. That''s just it. She told <em>me</em>. And that was it. I was hooked. I was in love, and I... I..." He hung his head and sighed heavily. "I fucked up. I convinced her toe work at Gomorrah. I thought it''d be better for her if I got her out of the slums and into the city. Safer, you know?"


    Cass and I exchanged nces. I could see where this was going, and it looked like Cass did too.


    "When it was just me, I only paid attention to my own self. I mean, all I wanted, I <em>had</em>. Caps, booze, drugs, women, power, you name it. But then I brought Joana there... and I found out what it was like for the girls. Most of ''em are strung out on jet, coke, Med-X or worse. Hell, most of them are so fucked up, they don''t even know where they <strong>are</strong> half the time. The bosses get ''em to spend all the money they earn on chems, and keep the girls in debt  keep ''em <em>working</em>. Fuck, most of the girls there are ves in all but name." Carlitos sighed again. "And then... Cachino made it worse..."


    "How could it be <strong>worse</strong>?!" Cass asked through clenched teeth, finding it harder than me to remain calm. He hands were balled into tight, white-knuckle fists.


    "Wait, Cachino?" I asked. I had a bad feeling about this...


    "Yeah. He wanted Joana all to himself, the backstabbing snake. Before he whacked the bosses and took over..." Don''t say anything, Sheason. You''ll just confuse the matter. "...he told Nero and Big Sal that he caught me spring cleaning my tributes to the family. The bosses put a price on my head within the <strong>hour</strong>. I had to skip town, just to keep from swimmin'' with thekelurks. Nobody leaves the Omertas unless it''s in a bodybag... and now with Cachino runnin'' the show, it''s even easier for him to keep me out of the way."


    "So, what, you want my help to get Cachino to back off?" I asked, fairly certain that I could manage that. If he was as squirrely as I remember, I''d barely need to rough him up  and I''d gotten a few upgrades since then to help me in that department.


    "Man, fuck Cachino!" He raised his voice and mmed a fist on the table, but reined it in before drawing too much attention. "I don''t care about that asshole! All I care about is Joana! I got her into that godawful mess, but I can''t do a fuckin'' thing to get her out! If it wasn''t for the price on my head, I''d have tried to bust her out of there weeks ago. But I can''t even so much as <em>look</em> at the Strip without Cachino knowin'' about it, and sin'' every wiseguy in town on my ass!" He let out a rough sigh. "That''s why I came to you. I''m stuck like I don''t know, man. I need some help."


    I looked over at Cass. She nodded at me with a fierce look in her eyes. That was determination if I ever saw it.


    "I''ll see what I can do."


    "So, what do you think?" Cass asked from her spot in the passenger seat, her bag of jeans in the footwell. After we talked more details about the situation (and the n he couldn''t carry out himself), we dropped Carlitos off at his safehouse and I drove the two of us back to the 38.


    "I think he''s a moron," I said without hesitation. "But he''s a moron who wants to do some good."


    "Sounds like the two''ve you are made fer each other, ya moron," Cass smirked. I nodded in agreement.


    "Quite. Point is, he''s right. We need to get those girls out of there as soon as possible."


    "<strong>Good</strong>." Cass said, a bit forcefully. "Course, I don''t know why you can''t just go up to Cachino and force that asshole to let ''em go. Hell, since gettin'' rid of House, you''re practically his boss. You could just roll up an'' tell him what-for." She smacked a fist in her palm, and then cracked her knuckles to punctuate the thought.


    "Oh, trust me..." I gritted my teeth, focusing very hard on <strong>not</strong> putting any creases into the steering wheel with my cybeic hand. "Cachino and I are gonna have <strong>words</strong>. But I think Carlitos has the best idea for right now. We should try and get Joana and as many of the girls clear before doing anything else."


    I''d limit any potential coteral damage that way.


    "Alrighty then," Cass smirked, leaning back. "Let''s go free some hookers!"

 Chapter 136: Bye Bye Love

    Chapter 136: Bye Bye Love


    This courtyard inside Gomorrah certainly kept with the theme of the rest of the casino. It was like the ce had been pulled straight out of Arabian Nights, or the Adventures of Sinbad or something. A rocky pool was in the center, like a desert oasis, with a dozen palm trees and greenery all over the ce. The palms were obviously fake, same as the ferns. Several women in various states of undress were lounging in the pool; if the steam rising off the surface was any sign, the whole thing was just a huge, decorative hot tub.


    All around the courtyard, hidden among the fake foliage, I could see a ring ofrge tents, made out of a deep blood-red fabric. Banners of the same cloth were draped over the top of the courtyard, stretching from balcony to balcony. The darkened, cloud filled sky above was barely visible through the cracks in the awnings, and if not for the fire pits, braziers, and torches mounted on the pirs, this ce would''ve been pitch ck. Even so, there were plenty of darkened corners... and in almost every one, I saw an Omerta thug, watching.


    I carefully made my way through the courtyard, hoping that nobody would ask questions about the duffel bag on my back. So far, nobody had said anything or tried to stop me; I think they must''ve assumed I was staying in the hotel. But I knew <em>someone</em> was going to get suspicious, the longer I kept it with me. And my state of mind wasn''t helped by how exposed I felt: to keep me from being recognized, I''d ditched my armor and weapons back at the 38, and was instead only wearing my old leather jacket, a shirt, some jeans, my sunsses, and that cowboy hat I got from Shelby. I didn''t even have Roscoe on me, and that along made me feel all manner of naked.


    And speaking of naked...


    "Hey there, handsome," said a nearby blonde. She walked up to me with half-lidded eyes and was wearing a dopey smile on her face. In fact, that was about <em>all</em> she was wearing. Let''s not beat around the bush  the dog cor around her neck was the most substantial piece of clothing on her. She looked high as a kite; I don''t know what she was on, but she was off her face with it. "You in the mood for some fun?"


    "Maybeter," I lied. "I''m lookin'' for somebody."


    "Night like tonight, everybody''s looking for some<em>body</em>..." She smiled again, licking her lips, leaning against me and running a finger along the edge of my neck. "And it looks to me like you''ve already found a <em>body</em>."


    "Cute," I said. "Sorry to disappoint, but I''m looking for a specific somebody. Joana." She backed up, her eyes went wide (well... her eyes <em>opened </em>slightly) and she gasped in mock surprise.


    "Oh! My, my! Someone certainly has expensive taste..." She giggled coyly, turning around slowly and gave me a e hither'' look over her shoulder. "Right this way, sugar."


    She led me into one of therger tents near the back, and when we passed through the cloth ps masquerading as a door, it was like I''d stepped into a scene from Calig. The air was thick and hazy with smoke, and I immediately started to get lightheaded. Indistinct silhouettesprised of people of all shapes, sizes, and various skin tones writhed around one another in the darkened corners of this massive tent. Some of them were lounging around on a floor that seemed to have been made entirely out of cushions and people who had passed out. Some of them were drunkenly feeling each other up. Still others were smoking from the half-dozen hookah pipes, adding to the miasma, or snorting lines of cocaine off ss-topped end tables. Every so often, one of the shapes came into focus, and I realized that all the women here had one thing inmon: they were all wearing cors.


    As I tried to get my bearings, a thought urred to me: <em>didn''t I already do this?</em> I distinctly remembered the Zoara Club below my feet being strikingly simr. The only difference was there hadn''t been as many Omerta thugs watching everything down there. How many of these ces does Gomorrah <em>have</em>? Fuck, how many do they <em>need</em>? Do I dare determine the depths of depravity in these dens of decadence and debauchery?


    "Well, what do we have here?" A voice cut through my thoughts and brought me back to my purpose.


    The voice belonged to a woman with wavy brte hair startlingly bright blue eyes in front of me. Her outfit was certainly more... <em>substantial</em> than what some of the other girls here were wearing, but was no less revealing. She was wearing a ck teddy that looked to be made out ofce and mesh, with voluminous, practically see-through silk flowing off her arms, legs, and waist that made it look like she was <em>almost</em> wearing clothes. Several strips of ck leather were tied around her arms and waist to keep the silk from being too wild, and they matched the criss-crossing straps on her high heels that wrapped their way up her thighs... and the <em>dog cor</em> fastened around her neck.


    "Let me guess..." The woman shimmied up to me, practically oozing sex with every motion. "You''ve heard about the mistress who makes all your fantasiese true. You''ve followed the call of your desires... all the way to the arms of Joana." She delicately ced a hand against her ample bosom, and gave a soft, falsetto giggle before giving me her best bedroom eyes. "<em>Moi</em>. Now that you''ve found me, I wonder..." She was close enough now to ce her hand against my chest. Her next words were whispered huskily, as if she didn''t want anyone to hear: "Do you have what it takes?"


    "I <strong>always</strong> have what it takes," I whispered back, giving her a faint smile. I knew how this game was yed. And all I had to do was get her in private, away from all these prying eyes...


    "<em>Oh</em>... Confident. I <em>like </em>that." She smiled, softly nibbling on one of her fingers as she looked me up and down. "So, tell me, tall, dark, and handsome..." She reached up and softly brushed her fingers against my neck. "What do want to do with what you''ve got?"


    "The better question..." I leaned in, and whispered in her ear: "What are <strong>you</strong> going to do with it?"


    "<em>Oh my!</em>" She bit her lower lip and let loose a soft moan she tried and failed to hide. "You are... you''re truly something else, aren''t you?" She looked me up and down once more, and grabbed my hand, leading me through the crowd to the back of the tent. "I guess you''ll have to see for yourself what I can do... Follow me, hun."


    "Lead the way."


    Before I knew it, we were passing through a darkened hallway, and I heard the muffled thumps and moans of people fucking behind every door we passed (except for one, where I kept hearing the crack of a whip). I followed her to a door at the end of the hall, marked with a heart that had an arrow through it. The room inside was filled with banners of red cloth entirely covering the walls and ceiling, and the only piece of furniture was a bed shaped like a heart. Subtle.


    "Are you ready to get started?" Joana whispered, running a hand along the back of my shoulders. I reached behind me and shoved the door closed with a click.


    "I''m not here for that," I said, dropping all pretenses. Joana blinked at me and backed up, not sure what was going on. "I''ve got a message for you. From Carlitos."


    It was like my words had flipped a switch. Her eyes went wide (genuinely, this time), and she dropped the sultry seductress act in an instant, changing her entire demeanor. She staggered backward, wobbling unsteadily on her heels.


    "<em>What?!</em>" Her voice was ragged and breathless, matching the rest of her dropped faade. "You... Carlitos is... he''s <em>alive</em>?" She bumped into the bed, losing her bnce and falling down to sit on the edge. "Oh... oh God... please... have you seen him? Have you talked to him?" I knelt down, setting the duffel bag on the floor at her feet, and nodded.


    "Yeah. He wants to get you out of here. And between us, we''vee up with a n to make it happen." Joana seemed to shrink into herself, clutching at her head, like she couldn''t quite believe what she was hearing.


    "He... he <em>does</em>? You <em>do</em>? Wait, this... this changes everything!" She scooted away from me, shaking her head. "But... wait, no. No, I can''t... I can''t leave my girls here... and where would we even <em>go</em> if we escape?" She drew her legs into herself, almost sitting in a fetal position, and started shaking her head. "No... no, it''s too risky. We''ll all end up dead!"


    "Carlitos thought you''d say something like that," I grabbed the duffel bag and plonked it on the end of the bed, opening it up to show her the clothes inside. "Our best shot at escape is going to be around midnight. Gomorrah should be packed, and the bouncers won''t notice a few ''patrons'' leaving the casino. That''s where thesee in: disguises for you and however many girls you think we can sneak out safely in one go. Nondescript clothing, a few hats, some sunsses... It should be enough." She leaned forward, shakily grabbing at the edge of the bag and looking inside.


    "It might..." She stared at the clothes, rifling through them. "It might work. But the girls and I... they''ll notice us leaving before we even get to the lobby."


    "That''s why I brought you some of these as well." I reached into the bottom of the bag, and pulled out metal disk covered in buttons. Her eyes went wide. "There should be enough stealth boys in here to help out. They won''tst long, but if you''re quick you can use them to reach the lobby without being noticed."


    "<em>Stealth boys</em>?" She let out a single confusedugh. "Where did you even <em>get</em> these?" I just smiled, shaking my head as I remembered the cache of stealth boys Doc Henry gave me when he was still living in Jacobstown.


    "Long story, it''s not important. Look, the point is you have a way out now." Joana started to look hopeful, but shook her head again.


    "But the Omertas will want us dead, no matter where we go!" She said with a shiver. "How... how will we-"


    "Leave them to me," I cut her off before she got too far. "You''ll never see them again. You have my word. Once I help you get to Freeside, you and Carlitos can escape."


    "To be free, and with Carlitos again..." She sighed, pulling her legs in closer to herself and wrapping her arms around them. "I... I don''t know if... If I don''t... Tell him that I... I still..." I ced my hand on her shoulder, in what I honestly hoped was aforting gesture.


    "Tell him yourself," I said with a smirk. "This is gonna be a cakewalk." She peered up at me with a hopeful look in her eye for a few seconds... and then she gazed down at my hand, confused.


    "What''s wrong with your... is that <em>metal</em>?" I pulled my hand away and coughed nervously, flexing my cybeic fingers. She scooted away from me again, appearing more than a little unnerved. "Who <em>are</em> you?" I shrugged.


    "Just a courier," I smiled. "I''m the guy they call to make sure the package gets delivered. And right now, that package is you."


    Electricity hung in the air after I teleported from The Sink back to the Lucky 38, and when I stepped off the tform, I realized that Cass was waiting for me.


    "Where th'' hell have you been?" She asked. "I thought we were gonna go save Joana an'' shit?"


    "We are," I said, reaching into my duster. "But we have some time before midnight, and I needed to prepare the ground and get a few supplies first. Speaking of, here you go," I said, pulling out a small curved metal device (about an inch long and half an inch wide) and handed it to Cass. "Put this in your ear." She was halfway through grabbing it when I said that, and paused to gaze up at me through narrow, suspicious eyes.


    "What?" She asked. "What is it?"


    "You remember that sat phone I wore the other day when I showed you guys how the teleporter worked?" I asked. "The thing with the gigantic backpack and the huge headphones with the microphone scavenged from an old pilot''s headset?" Cass nodded, and I held up the device between my thumb and finger. "Well, <em>this </em>is <em>that, </em>only built correctly, with Big Empty tech."


    A heavy silence hung in the air.


    "Shut up!" Cass finally said when she managed to pick her jaw up off the floor.


    "It''s true. There is some crazy shit in that crater... just a shame most of it is insane and trying to kill everyone." I shrugged. "Ah well. I even brought enough for everyone. This way we can all keep in contact, even if we''re not wearingbat helmets. And over longer distances, too. I think those UHF radios are only good for a couple of blocks. I could be halfway around the world with one of these, and we could still talk."


    "This could''vee in handy when you got trapped down in Mexico," Cass smirked as the two of us walked to the elevator.


    "Yeah, don''t I know it," I said with a chuckle. "Now, c''mon, let''s go find Boone. I think he''s gonna like this one."


    True to form, Gomorrah was just as busy as all the other casinos on the Strip when it got close to midnight. It was so busy, that absolutely nobody noticed when a barely visible shimmer squeezed through the front door behind a small crowd, past a confused looking Omerta who wondered aloud what caused that sudden breeze, and into the casino. When I was certain nobody could see me, I clicked the button on my belt; I returned to visibility in the shadow of a pir.


    "So far, so undetected!" Sue squeaked. I almost didn''t hear her, beyond the dull roar of the crowds and the blinking, noisy cacophony of all the slot machines. I slid through the crowds, looking for Joana. I scanned the area, picking out the locations of all the Omertas watching the floor, and made a beeline for the back. With any luck, I''d catch her on her way to the lobby...


    A small cluster of women in nondescript clothing were making their way from the bar that separated the main casino floor from the courtyard. Result.


    "Nice to see you made it," I said, catching her attention. Joana looked up at me from under the brim of the hat she was wearing, and the three girls behind her came to a halt.


    "It''s you!" She practically breathed. She looked around nervously. "We need to go. I don''t think we were spotted, but I..." I held up a hand, nodding at her.


    "Calm down, we''re getting you out of here." I looked over the small crowd. It looked like it was just Joana and only three others. "Is this everyone?" She nodded.


    "Everyone... I could convince to escape. Most of the girls are..." She grimaced. "...too far gone." I nodded, swearing under my breath, and tapped my earpiece.


    "Cass? You reading me?"


    "Loud an'' clear," Cass voice buzzed in my ear like she was standing next to me. "We ready to rock an'' roll?"


    "Yeah. Bring my Corvega around, and keep the motor running."


    "Wait, not the deuce?" She sounded confused.


    "No," I grunted. "There''s... fewer than we thought."


    "Damn," she said with a sigh. "I''ll bring the car around, waitin'' on ya." I nodded, and looked around. Were people starting to stare at us, or was I just being paranoid?


    "C''mon," I patted Joana on the shoulder and tried to urge her forward. "Let''s go, we don''t have much time."


    "Are you sure this is going to work?" One of the girls in the back said with a wavering voice. I nodded.


    "Don''t worry," I clicked the button in my belt and faded into invisibility. "I''ll make sure you get out of here safe..." Two of them gasped, but they started moving for the door all the same. And speaking of moving...


    There were three Omerta''s that I''d picked out as the most likely ones to notice them escape. Yeah, the disguises would work from a distance, but the girls were nervous, and they needed any extra edge I could give them. So I kept myself hidden behind the therm-optic camouge, slid soundlessly as I could, and reached for the rag in my duster.


    "Wait a minute..." I heard one of the nearby Omertas say aloud. His gaze was fixed on the quartet of women moving for the door. "That''s  mmf!" I covered his mouth with the chloroform-soaked rag, and I pulled him into the shadows. He struggled briefly before slipping into unconsciousness; I shoved the limp body into a corner, behind a decorative fake fern, and moved on.


    None of the guards watching the floor saw what hit them. I couldn''tugh at the irony, though. I just had to keep pace with the girls, and keep any interested parties from following. They were almost at the door, and I wondered if I was going to have to knock out the door guards as well... but just as they reached the door, a fortuitous crowd tried to force their way in. It was maybe 20 people or so. The guards had their hands full, trying to check all the new patrons for weapons, so the four girls and I slipped out of the door without any problem.


    "Don''t stop," I whispered behind them as they crossed the threshold. "We''re not safe yet." My Corvega was just ahead, Cass behind the wheel and engine happily purring away. She leaned over and opened the passenger door.


    "Well? Th'' fuck ya waitin'' fer? Get in!" Cass said with a smile and a nod. "Let''s go, c''mon!" The girls piled into the car one by one, and my invisible form mbered on top. I rapped my knuckles against the roof twice to let Cass know I was in ce, and the car immediately revved and pulled a U-turn. I looked over my shoulder as the car sped off down Vegas Boulevard, and it didn''t look like anyone was following us.


    Cass kept it slow for a while, though I think that was more because of how crowded the road was with pedestrians. We left Gomorrah and The Riv in the dust, passed the Urbane, sailed straight past the 38, and through the Strip''s gate into Freeside. It looked like we were home free, clear to head to Carlitos'' safehouse... but a subtle tugging in my gut made me think we weren''t quite out of it yet. Even so, I clicked the button do deactivate the camo just as we came to a stop in front of Carlitos'' ce.


    "Is this the ce?" Joana asked as all the girls stepped out of my car. "Where is " Before I could answer, the front door of the building swung open, and Carlitos stepped out, his mouth open wide.


    "Joana!" He practically shouted. "Oh my God! You made it!" The two of them ran at each other, meeting in a tearful embrace.


    "I thought I''d never see you again..." Joana said, before her hat was caught by the wind, and flew away. The two of them kissed passionately, and the whole thing looked like something out of an old world romance flick.


    "Aw, that''s sweet," Cass said, her elbows perched on the roof.


    "You better take the car back to the 38," I said, sliding off the roof, trying not to gawp at Carlitos'' and Joana''s moment. "I think I can handle it the rest of the way."


    "You sure?" Cass raised an eyebrow. "This''ll get ''em to the walls a lot quicker."


    "We needed the speed to get away from Gomorrah, but this''ll draw way too much attention. Stealth is what they need now." Cass nodded in agreement, and within seconds, she''d peeled away, heading back to the 38. When I turned back to the two lovebirds, they''d stopped making out. They hadn''t let go of one another, though.


    "Thank you so much for your help!" Carlitos said, unable to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. "I think we''re finally home free!"


    "Oh, I wouldn''t say that..." A gruff voice spoke up from a nearby alleyway, apanied by the unmistakable click of weapons being cocked. The girls tried their best to hide, but there wasn''t any cover; Carlitos'' faced the sound, and ced himself between the voices and Joana. I calmly walked up, to put myself between Carlitos'' and whoever wasing.


    At least I knew why my gut was warning me of imminent violence, now.


    "Well, well, well..." A quartet of Omertas in dark grey suits walked into view, all of them carrying Tommy Guns. "What do we have here? A pack of wayward whores, and a greasy snake, thought he could skip town after stealin'' from the family."


    "Aw, fuck," Carlitos'' muttered under his breath. "This don''t concern you, Vinnie." The thug in the lead just snorted derisively.


    "Y''know, Carlitos, I thought you''d be smart. We all thought you''se woulda skipped town with the bread you stole weeks ago. But instead, we find you here... with the naughty whores we had clocked from the start. You really think you can waltz up, steal our <em>property</em>... an'' just walk away?" The thug shook his head. "Nah... The Omertas don''t forget. So I think it''s about time we cashed you out."


    I started pping slowly, in as patronizing a manner as I could manage. All the thugs turned to look at me like a bunch of confused geckos.


    "Great speech. Real intimidating. Or, it <em>would </em>be, if you were in the least bit... you know." I tried (and intentionally failed) to stifle augh. "<strong>Intimidating</strong>."


    "Th'' fuck is this asshole?" The lead thug asked. One of the Omertas behind him shook his head and shrugged.


    "I''m the Courier..." The three in the back tensed up, but the lead one still looked confused. "And I''m going to give you a simple choice." I lifted up my cybeic hand, and pointed two fingers at his head. "Live... or die. You got three seconds to decide. One."


    "You fuckin'' serious?" The one in front scoffed, looking at me like I''d gone nuts. "What''re you gonna do, poke me to death?"


    "Last chance. Two." I said.


    "Go fuck your mother, fanook," he said, cocking his Tommy Gun and pointing it at me. "You can''t take us." I shrugged.


    "Have it your way. Three."


    I mimed shooting him with my fingers.


    The back of his head exploded.


    The dead thug copsed, and three others behind him stood there in stunned silence, covered in blood and bits of brain. I pointed my fingers at one of the others.


    "Anyone else want to try their luck?" I said with a smirk. In a sh, the three of them turned on their heels and ran away as fast as they could, practically tripping over each other to try and get away. I just smiled, looked over my shoulder, and tapped my earpiece. "Nice shot."


    "Thanks," Boone said. As I looked, I caught a glint of a scope from one of the Lucky 38''s balconies. "Need any more covering fire?"


    "I think we should be good for now, man. Thanks." I turned to look back at Carlitos and the rest of the girls; most of them were still hiding, but Carlitos and Joana were standing there, staring at me in shock. "You guys gonna be okay?"


    "Holy... fuck me, man. For a minute there, I thought we weren''t going to make it. But you just... how did... fuck!" He clutched the side of his head,ughing nervously at the dead Omerta behind me.


    "Don''t worry about it. Now, c''mon. You guys gotta get out of here."


    "Hey, look," Carlitos seemed topose himself, finally. "I take care of my debts. Is there any way I can repay you? I don''t have much, but I do have a few caps saved up..." I shook my head.


    "Keep it. Helping you guys out was enough." Carlitos looked like he was on the verge of tears, and then rushed forward to hug me without warning.


    "You are truly something else, man." He pulled away with a goofy smile, patting me on the shoulder. "I''m so d I found you. I hope to see you again, far away from here."


    "Thank you," Joana said with a smile. "You are one of kind. But, really: is there any way we can repay you?"


    "There is something you can do," I said, seriously. "Stop by the Old Mormon Fort before you get out of town. Have the followers check you out. They might be able to help you with that Med-X problem of yours." Joana froze in shock, her mouth falling open. "It wasn''t hard to figure out. Your pupils look like pie tes, and your arms have been twitching since I met up with you in the lobby." She seemed to shrink into herself, and hung her head.


    "It''s that obvious, huh? I didn''t... I didn''t think I was that far gone..." She turned, and buried her face in Carlitos'' chest. He held onto her tightly.


    "It''s not your fault," I tried to reassure her. "And you''ve still got time. The Followers can help."


    "Thank you again," Carlitos said, still holding onto Joana. "What are you going to do?"


    "I''m gonna make sure nobody elsees after you," I said, as calmly and level as I could manage. "So Cachino and I are gonna have a few <em>words</em>..."


    I pushed the front doors open, and stormed into Gomorrah. Even though it was still mostly crowded, the noise of the mming door was enough to grab the attention of a nearby guard. He stepped forward with an outstretched hand, in an attempt to stop me.


    "Hey, ain''t nobody allowed to carry a piece in here exce- HURK!" I kept going, grabbing him by the throat with my cybeic hand. I held him a few feet off the ground before mming him into a nearby pir and shifting my grip to his cor. By the time I heard the other guns around the room get drawn, the barrel of That Gun was already pressed against his chin.


    "Listen up, all of you," I said in a voice dripping with menace as I looked over my shoulder at the other Omertas. "I''m The Courier. Yes  <strong>THAT </strong>Courier. You all should know what I am now, and what I can do. If I wanted to, I could kill every person in this room and walk away unscathed." I paused, and several of the thugs looked uncertain. "But I don''t <strong>want</strong> to do that now. All I want is for one of you to answer a simple question  and pay attention, because I''m only going to ask this <strong>once</strong>." I turned back to the thug I had pinned to the wall; he looked terrified behind the sunsses sitting crooked on his nose. "Where. Is. Cachino?"


    "He..." The thug in my grip coughed and choked. "He''s in his office! Second floor, overlookin'' the strip club!"


    "Thanks for your cooperation," I tossed the thug aside; there was a crash of breaking porcin as his head hit a nt pot. I calmly strode into the casino, but by the time the rest of the thugs caught up with me, I was already invisible. None of the patrons inside had seemed to notice the scuffle by the doors, but the few guards overlooking the casino sure had  and best of all, those guards I''d taken out before were still nowhere to be found.


    With most of the guards having converged at the front near the doors, I clicked the button and shimmered into visibility directly underneath the balcony. There were bound to be more thugs guarding the stairs...


    "Well," I sighed, pulling the grapnel gun out of my duster. "Guess it''s time for the field test." I aimed it at a spot on the ceiling above the walkway, and pulled the trigger. There was a puff of grey smoke and a <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em> The metal dart flew up, trailing a length of cable behind, and unfolded into a proper grapnel hook seconds before embedding itself in the ceiling. I flicked the button on the side to spool the cable with my thumb, and was very d of my cybeic arm when the pull from the gun yanked me up into the air. I cleared the railing deftly, and hit the other button to recall the dart. It let go of the ceiling (discing only a small amount of ster) and both the cable and dart shot back into the gun.


    "Wow!" Sue squeaked while I calmly put the grapnel gun away and walked over to Cachino''s office. "That worked great."


    "Yeah, not bad, considering it waspletely untested." I stopped in front of the metal door to the office that used to belong to Nero and Big Sal, and pounded on the door. "Hey, Cachino! Open up!" There was a crackle of static, and the inte next to the door came to life.


    "-amnit, Carol!" Cachnio''s voice came through in a hail of static. "I told you I didn''t want any distractions till we figure out who fuckin'' stole from us!"


    I balled my hand up into a fist... but rather than punching the door, I aimed for the inte. There was a crunch of twisting metal and splintering wood, and my fist passed through the wall.


    "JESUS FUCK!" I heard Cachino''s muffled voice through the cracks in the soundproofed wall. I reached around until my hand gripped the handle, and unlocked the door. I pulled my hand free and kicked the door open. He fumbled, dropping the shotgun he was trying to load.


    "Knock knock, motherfucker!" I said, just as he fell out of his chair. I walked up to his desk, gripped the edge with my cybeic hand, and shoved it aside. It slid against the ground with a sickening screech of metal ripping up wood, and crashed into the bookcase lining the wall. Cachino looked about ready to piss himself as I stood over him. "You''ve been a bad boy. I told you to clean this ce up, and you haven''t done a fuckin'' thing, have you?"


    "Wh- what are you talkin'' about?" He stammered, trying to scoot away from me, apparently forgetting the window behind him. "I''ve been keepin'' the boys on the straight an'' narrow, just like you asked!"


    "Oh yeah? Well, you know what I found?" I reached down, picked him up with both hands by thepels, and shoved him against the window. A pair of cracks appeared in the ss behind him from the impact of his big fat ass. "I found a whole bunch of hookers wearing cors like fuckin'' <em>dogs</em>. Treated like property. Hooked on chems, and absolutely <em>terrified </em>to even set foot outside the courtyard in the back! To say nothing of all the other stories I''ve heard of how the girls in this ce are treated!" His eyes went wide and it looked like he suddenly understood something.


    "Wait... you... <em>you''re</em> the one who stole from us?" My vision went red, and anger welled up inside me, likeva in a volcano ready to explode. I let go of him with my cybeic hand and punched the window behind him. It exploded outward in a shower of ss. The music from the club below us stopped instantly, and several screams filled the air. I held him over the fresh drop and couldn''t keep myself from yelling.


    "Steal? <strong>STEAL</strong>?!" My hands started shaking  or was it just Cachino shaking so much in my grip? "You can only ''steal'' property, you FUCK! THINGS! THEY ARE NOT <strong>THINGS</strong>, YOU LITTLE SHIT! THEY ARE HUMAN FUCKING BEINGS! You can''t own a human being  eventually, someone pushes <strong>back</strong>! And right now, that someone is <strong>ME</strong>!" The crowds below went quiet, and I leaned in to snarl in his face. "You should know by now that I <strong>hate</strong> vers! I <strong>won''t</strong> tolerate very in <strong>my</strong> town! You''re no better than those ver scumbags across the Colorado..." I held him out at arms length, even further away from the edge, and he gripped furiously at my arms to keep from falling. "And you, of all people should know that I <strong>HATE</strong> Legion!"


    "Hey! Whoa! C''mon man, I ain''t  I mean  I''m not " He kept spluttering, looking down at the drop. I wasn''t going to get anything useful out of him like this. I spun around and tossed him away from the window. He hit the back wall with a thump, and fell neatly into the sofa  the very same sofa I''d sat on when I talked Nero and Big Sal to death.


    "One reason," I said, holding up and finger and advancing on him. "Give me <strong>one</strong> good reason I shouldn''t just <strong>pound</strong> your <strong>fucking skull</strong> into <strong>paste</strong> right the fuck <strong>now</strong>!" He held up his hands desperately, and his mostly bald head was glistening with sweat pouring from every pore.


    "Hey! No! I''ll do what you want! I''ll clean up the ce! We''ll start treating the girls better, I swear, just don''t  don''t kill me! It''ll be easy, I swear! They  I mean, fuck! It''ll be easy! I mean, we don''t even snatch people anymore like we used to do in the old days, even!" He was so terrified that he was babbling like a crazy man, but thatst bit sounded important.


    "Exin. And make it good," I did my best to loom over him, and he just sat there with his hands up, scared shitless, like he was trying to merge with the sofa. "<strong>TALK!</strong>"


    "Th-th-th-the boys... m-most of ''em, they..." He gulped hard. "There''s not many of the old Slither Kin left. Most''ve them have forgotten what it was like in the old days. They''re havin'' too much fun just livin'' high without all the hard work, y''know? So we haven''t even snatched people in years. We hire help from outside the family for that kind of shit now!"


    "<strong>Who</strong>?!" I barked, narrowing my eyes at him. He gulped again.


    "There''s... there''s a gang, out in Freeside. Los Zorroz. They''re the ones we''ve been dealing with, thest two years. They used to be pretty small, and they stay away from King territory, but they''re good at snatching people. I send out people to meet ''em once a month to collect fresh " He cut himself off, gulping loudly again. "B-b-but that ends now, man! I promise, we''re not gonna do that shit anymore!"


    "When?" I asked, trying to ignore the tightening in my gut.


    "Uh... when?" Cachino asked. "W-w-when, what?"


    "When were you going to meet with them next?" I asked, keeping my voice level.


    "Uh... t-tomorrow night. 11 pm, Wednesday." It was already Wednesday, technically, but lets gloss over that. "Th-th-they always want to meet on the first Wednesday of the month." I fiddled with my Pip Boy until I brought up the map feature, and then shoved my arm over to him.


    "Show me where." He took a trembling hand and slowly started messing with the knobs on my Pip Boy to get the map to the right location. "Don''t contact those Los Zorroz or whatever to call off the deal. Just tell your boys not to show up, and I''ll handle the rest."


    "Y-you got it man. There. That''s the ce." I looked at the map, and he''d marked an old warehouse in the southeast part of Freeside, about six blocks away from the perimeter wall.


    "I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Are you listening?" He started nodding furiously. "If you want to have hookers here, fine. But things <strong>will</strong> change. Give them a choice to stay or not. Treat them like human beings. Hell, make them Omertas, if you want. Sry. Benefits. Get them cleaned up and off the chems. And if none of them decide to stay after all the shit they''ve gone through and all the abuse they''ve suffered, then <strong>tough shit</strong>. Put up a ''Help Wanted'' sign. But this very shit stops. <strong>Now</strong>. And don''t think I won''t be watching  because I <strong>will</strong>. If you don''t change, I will make ruining you and turning your life into a living hell my <strong>only</strong> goal. I''ll rain down fire the likes of which no one has EVER seen before. <strong>UNDERSTAND?!</strong>"


    "F-f-fuck, me, man! I-I-I-I get it! I totally get it! I''ll turn this ce around! You don''t have to worry about nothin'', I swear!"


    "You said that <strongst</strong> time," I growled, continuing to scowl at him. "You are on thin fuckin'' ice, Cachino. And I shall be under you when it <strong>breaks</strong>."

 Chapter 137: Black Rain

    Chapter 137: ck Rain


    I was still shaking when I stepped out of Gomorrah and into the street. I breathed slowly and steadily, trying to calm myself down. But nothing was working. I was too worked up. I was just so fucking <em>angry</em>, and intimidating Cachino hadn''t been enough to take the edge off.


    "Don''t worry," I heard Sue say. "I think he''ll stick to his word. He''d have to be stupid not to change after THAT disy." She startedughing softly.


    "Yeah, well... I never credited Cachino with an overabundance of brains..."


    A thundercrack echoed in the sky above my head, and I sighed, burying my face in my hands. By the time I was mostly calmed down, something strange happened: I heard a droplet of water hit the pavement.


    "What the..." I looked up, and saw the clouds over my head. There was another boom of thunder, and the clouds lit up from within. I heard several more drops start falling. Rain? The entire time I''ve been here, I''d never seen it rain <em>once</em> in the Mojave...


    Tik. Tik-ik. Tik.


    "Oh, <strong>FUCK ME</strong>!" I yelled, putting the pieces together as soon as my Geiger counter started clicking. I broke into a run, trying to get to the Lucky 38 as quickly as I could. Not an easy proposition when your sphincter clenches <em>that</em> tight, let me tell you.


    "What?!" Sue squeaked. "What''s going on?"


    "Those aren''t storm clouds!" I said, trying to pour on the speed. "That''s all that''s left of the <em>mushroom cloud</em>! This is <em>ck rain</em>!"


    I never understood that phrase ''when it rains, it pours,'' until that specific moment.


    "C''mon... c''mon, where is it..." I scrolled through the functions on my Pip Boy, trying to find the right radio channel, all while running down the road as fast as I could. "YES MAN! Please tell me you''re listening!" As I ran, I couldn''t help but notice several people move out of the way  either to get out of the rain, or to get away from the crazy man, running down the street and yelling into his arm.


    "Oh! Hello there!" Yes Man''s voice buzzed in my ear. "What can I do for "


    "Shut up and listen!" I yelled. "ck rain is falling! Radioactive liquid, ck rain, fallout, whatever the fuck it actually is, thest gasp of that fucking nuke is shitting on everyone''s heads! I need you to get every securitron you can spare out on the streets, warning people of the danger, and urging them to get inside and under cover! Hell, get the roving securitrons that Victor used to take over  get them warning people outside Vegas too! Goodsprings, Primm, Novac, Westisde, everywhere! Hell, get a securitron over to Crocker in the NCR embassy, or over to Camp McCarran! I don''t care, warn the NCR, too! We''ve got to warn as many people as possible about this!"


    Yes Man was silent for a few seconds, giving me more time to close the distance to the Lucky 38.


    "Sounds good!" Yes Man replied. And then: "I''ll just go ahead and activate the emergency radiation protocols Mr. House wrote up before the war!"


    "Wait, what?" I said, momentarily stumbling from the unexpected revtion before finding my footing and getting back to running. "I thought you said you couldn''t ess all of House''s files?"


    "Oh, didn''t I tell you?" Yes Manughed nervously. "I''m sorry! Gosh, what a delightful scatterbrain I can be! Most of the protocols were decrypted <em>ages</em> ago! There are still a few heavily encrypted files behind some equally encrypted partitions, but nothing that can''t be worn down with a concentrated, relentless effort, and the inexorable crushing march of time. Hooray!"


    "So, you can do it then?" I asked, just as another thundercrack boomed overhead. By now, I''d reached the Lucky 38''s stairs, and had taken cover in the overhang right in front of the doors. The rain was starting toe down in heavy sheets now, and (to my immense relief) the street was starting to empty. Maybe the tourists were just trying to keep from getting wet, or maybe they realized how dangerous it was. Personally, I was okay with either.


    "Certainly! Well, everything except the Radio New Vegas emergency broadcast system!" Yes Man gleefully replied. "I''ve been trying to restart the radio thest few weeks, but something has been blocking my ess attempts."


    "What, like more encryptions?" I ran through the casino, and desperately punched the elevator button. I had to get up to the teleporter to get to The Sink. Of all the times to have left the damn Transportalponder! back up in my room!


    "Maybe!" I could practically hear the shrug in his voice. "I''m honestly not sure. It seems to be altering the ess codes when I "


    "Whatever! Shut up and get it done!" I yelled. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I didn''t even wait before throwing myself inside and hitting the button to go up.


    Before the electricity and ozone hanging in the air could fully disperse, I was already leaping off the transport pad and running into the main room of The Sink.


    "JEEVES!" I yelled, sliding across the smooth steel floor and skidding into the side of the Sink Central Intelligence console. "We''ve got work to do! You awake?" The table winked into life, and the moving blue bars appeared in midair.


    "Wee home, sir." Jeeves replied calmly. "How may I be of service?"


    "Stimpacks, Rad-X, and Radaway!" I said, gulping down a cough and trying to calm myself down. Thankfully, this process was made easier by the smooth, authoritative tones of Jeeves'' rather pleasing-to-the-ear digital voice. "How much can you make with that holographic replicator of yours?" Jeeves was silent for several seconds, and the bars flickered wildly, shifting from blue to orange to purple to yellow and then back to blue.


    "Is this a literal question, sir? Or should I merely give sir a rough estimate based on the current stores?"


    "What?" I asked, as the bottom of my stomach fell out. "What do you mean ''current stores''?"


    "The holographic reconstitution matrix requires an existing supply of fissionable materiel to function." Jeeves exined. "Matter can neither be created, nor destroyed  merely changed. The First Law of Thermodynamics is still in effect, and is a major limitation to the function of this device, it must be said. It was one of the fundamental rules of the universe that the Think Tank, rather regrettably, could never overturn."


    "So... this ''make anything'' device of yours is eventually going to run out, then." I said, finally understanding the feeling in my gut.


    "Eventually, yes," Jeeves seemed incredibly nonplussed about the whole idea. "That is, if the raw materiels in the stores are not resupplied, of course. Thankfully, the matter-energy conversion matrices can be resupplied with rtively mundane andmon items  scrap metal, for instance. But really, any suitably dense substance with a stable isotope from the heavier end of the periodic table should do nicely, sir."


    "But you have enough to make the medical supplies I need <em>now</em>, right?" I rubbed my temple. C''mon, focus, Fisher. You don''t have time for this! Get back on track.


    "That, sir, rather depends on how much you need." I wanted to scream in frustration. But Jeeves'' didn''t know what was going on, and it would take far too long to exin.


    "Let''s say... 100 of each, and put in a box for easy storage and transport. Can you do that?" The holographic bars shimmered again, but did not change color.


    "Certainly, sir. Such a request is trivial, sir, and shall be carried out momentarily." I breathed a sigh of relief.


    "Good," I said, reaching into the console and pulling out one of the extra, disk-shaped teleport homers I''d been keeping there since transporting the deuce. "When it''s ready, have the robots ce it on the teleport pad, and wait for my signal." I tapped my earpiece for effect, and backpedaled into the teleport room. "I''m on the same frequency asst time. Be ready when I call!"


    "For you, sir," Jeeves'' voice echoed from the console in the main room, and the speaker above my head in the teleport room. "I am <em>always</em> ready."


    My Corvega roared down Vegas Boulevard, sending sheets of water sshing up on either side of the car. The ck rain was stilling down in buckets, and it was so heavy that I couldn''t tell if the streets werepletely empty or not. It looked like it, but except for the brief glimpses of rity or the odd streemp, everything looked like indistinct dark blobs through the haze of rain. Frankly, I''m just d the windshield wipers still worked. Thest time I had to use them was 10 years ago.


    As I drove down the road, I saw the glowing face screen of a securitron shining through the darkened haze. It looked like it was patrolling the road; I heard its muffled voice shouting something, but I couldn''t hear any details over the rain pelting my car and the roar of my engine. At least Yes Man made good on his promise.


    The outline of the Old Mormon Fort materialized ahead of me  or, to be more urate, I saw the sign out front, lit up from below. I stamped on the brakes, and the car skidded along the slick ground. I fought against the steering wheel for a few seconds, and the Corvega finally came to a halt... sure, the car had done a 180, but at least I was <em>stopped</em>.


    I leapt out of the car, teleport homer in hand, and hoped that I could find some cover before getting soaked by the radioactive rain. Turns out it was a lot easier than I thought: there were severalrge tarps draped between the walls and the gpole in the center of the courtyard. It wasn''t perfect, and several small waterfalls were spilling to the ground between the cracks, but it was certainly better than nothing. All around, I could see people running and working and carrying more piles of bup, trying desperately to close up any holes.


    "Get those gaps closed up! Quickly! And make sure nobody drinks any of that water!" I heard a female voice say over themotion, and the bright orange mohawk made it obvious who it was  even though the orders being barked were a far cry from the soft, gentle voice I was used to. Julie Farkas was directing the rabble with a metal cylinder in one hand, and she was holding arge metal box with the other, and both the box and the cylinder were connected by a thick coiled wire. When I ran over to her, I heard the box clicking away, in time with the Geiger counter on my Pip Boy.


    "Julie!" I said, catching her attention. She spun in ce, bewildered at the new voice, and even more perplexed when she saw me.


    "Courier?" She looked around, a bit unsure of herself. "What are you... this isn''t really the best time..." She must think I was here to drop off more decrypted files, like thest time I came here with April and Emily.


    "No, this is <strong>absolutely</strong> the best time," I corrected. "You''re always talking about how you need more medical supplies, right?" Julie looked at me curiously for a second, before nodding. I held up the metal disk in my hands. "Well, I think I might be able to help."


    "What are you talking about? What <em>is</em> that?" I didn''t answer. I just set the disk down a few feet away from her, and hit the button in the center; it activated with a hum, and the edges began to pulsate with a bright blue glow.


    "You''ll see in a minute. Stand back. Jeeves!" I tapped my earpiece. "You reading me?"


    "Of course, sir," Jeeves'' voice wafted into my ear. "I take it sir is ready to receive the package?"


    "Lock in on the teleport homer, and send it over right away!" I said, stepping back even further. There was a tiny crackle of energy above the metal disk, and suddenly the air began to warp and bloat. A crack of blue lightning ripped open the fabric of reality, and arge metal box bearing the twin hexagon logo of the Big Empty shimmered into existence several inches above the disk. It fell to the ground with an unceremonious clunk,ing to a slightly askew rest on the uneven ground.


    "What the  what  but  <em>what</em>?" Julie stammered, dropping the Geiger counter in her hands. I rushed over to the box and grabbed the carrying handles, lifting the heavy box with ease. It was


    "Never mind that now. Where''s your main medical tent?" I asked. Julie just stared at the box, apparently unable to process what she just witnessed. I dropped the box with a wet thud on the damp mud, and snapped my fingers several times in front of her face. "Hey, c''mon! Focus! We''ve got to get these supplies to the medical tent!"


    "Supplies?" she repeated. I sighed, reaching down to undo thetch. I pulled open the lid with a hiss, and a puff of blue-white fog escaped. When she looked inside, and saw all the stimpacks, Rad-X, and Radaway, her eyes went wide and she gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Oh my... Oh my <em>God</em>! This... this is... where did you <em>get </em>all this?!"


    "I''ll exinter," I said, mming the lid shut. "Now, c''mon, help me out here. Where do you need this?" Julie clutched the side of her head and shook it once, before turning on her heel, picking up the Geiger counter, and waving at me to follow.


    "This... this way." She sighed heavily. "This is all just so..."


    "Yeah, I know," I said, hefting the box and following her. "Look, I''ll do my best to exinter. But I want to promise to you, right now  whenever you need more supplies, don''t hesitate to ask." I set the box down on a nearby table once we got to the medical tent, and Julie waved over a few doctors to help us unpack it. "If you can''t find me, talk to April, Emily, or Arcade, they''ll know where I am. Whatever you need, I''ll get it to you."


    "You... do you really mean that?" Julie asked, overwhelmed and utterly bewildered. I nodded, opening the box again.


    "Yeah. Hell, I... I would''ve done this kind of thing sooner, but..." I coughed nervously, scratching at the back of my head. "I''ve kind of been busy. The ck rain just... sort of... gave me a deadline." Julie stared at me for several seconds.


    "What are you getting out of this?" She asked. I gripped the edge of the box, watching as the doctors pulled out medicine by the handful, and refused to look at her. "I mean... don''t get me wrong, I''m <em>grateful</em>. God, more than you can know. We''re always on the verge of running out of medicine and supplies... But why are you being so generous? What do you want from us in return?"


    "Nothing. You don''t have to do anything except what you''re already doing. I''m helping you out because..." I nced out of the medical tent, and at the rain still falling, and the pools of dirty ck water soaking everything. "...because you''re the only people I know who can help <em>everyone else</em>. I just... feel... <em>responsible</em> for what''s happening now."


    "How can you be responsible?" Julie said, cing a hand on my shoulder. "You didn''t fire that nuclear weapon the other day..."


    I didn''t say anything. I grit my teeth and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the massive pang of guilt like a knife being shoved into my spine.


    "... did you?"


    I wished for something  <em>anything </em> to arrive to change the subject, or distract me.


    "Well, I''ll be," a familiar voice spoke up behind me. "I hoped we''d see each other again, just didn''t think it''d be so soon."


    "Hey, Carlitos," I said, turning around with a fake smile. "I''m d you made it. Are Joana and the other girls with you?" He nodded.


    "They''re still getting looked at by the doctors here. Two of the girls are..." He grimaced. "It''s bad. If you hadn''te when you did, it would''ve been a lot worse. Thanks again for helping them escape."


    "It was the least I could do," I said, walking away from the box and back in the direction of my car.


    "Wait, where are you going?" Julie called out after me. I stopped, looking at them over my shoulder.


    "Those medical supplies were made in the Big Empty. There''s a wealth of old world tech in there... and there might be something there that can stop this rain..." If I had thought about it (and I hadn''t been in such a rush before), I might have asked Jeeves about the weather station in X-17. Maybe if I could get some instructions before heading out, I could use it to try and stop the rain instead of making things worse... like I had <emst </em>time I went there.


    "Stop the  wait, <em>what</em>?" Julie said. "What are you talking about? The best we can do right now is bunker down and wait for the storm to pass. You can''t <strong>stop </strong>the weather!"


    I turned around fully and shed a smile that spoke of a confidence I certainly didn''t feel. It wasn''t much, but hopefully it might reassure her.


    "I''m the Courier. Doing the impossible is what I do best." A sh of lightning briefly lit up the area, followed swiftly by a boom of thunder echoing directly overhead. "I can stop the rain for you. Just watch me."


    By the time I stumbled back into the Lucky 38''s main casino floor, I had lost all sense of momentum. I wasn''t in any physical danger, and I couldn''t rely on adrenaline to keep me going. But I kept going forward, because I had to do <em>something</em>. I hadn''t done enough. I had to do more. I had to do everything I could to fix the damage of my mistake...


    "There y''are!" I heard Cass say from somewhere ahead of me. "I''ve been lookin'' all over for you. Arcade says this is falloutin'' down outside!"


    "Yeah," I grunted out, hanging my head and leaning on a nearby slot machine. "Yeah, I... I know..." I was suddenly feeling very tired.


    "Oh, you fuckin'' moron. You''ve been out in this shit, haven''t you?" The next thing I knew, Cass had wrapped my left arm around her shoulder, and was trying to help me up. Wait, what? Why was I kneeling on the floor? When did that happen? "C''mon... geddup, ya useless... fuck..." She grunted, and I tried pushing myself up to help us along. "Damn it, man! You must weigh a solid ton!"


    "Don''t me me," I chuckled, flexing my cybeic fist. "me the magic hand. Now c''mon... help me get up to the teleporter..."


    "Fuck that, man," she said as the two of us entered the elevator. "You look practically dead. You need some fuckin'' sleep."


    "But... but I''ve got to... I''ve got..." I coughed, steadying myself against the wall of the elevator as it started to ascend.


    "Fuck sake, man! It''s two in the morning!" She grabbed my shoulder and shook me as I leaned against the wall. "The only thing you''ve got to do is get some fuckin'' <strong>sleep</strong>! You can''t keep doin'' this, or you''re gonna wind up killin'' yerself."


    "It''s... it''s all..." I sighed, gently gripping her shoulder. "But it''s all my fault..."


    "Yer just babblin'' now, man," Cass helped me on my feet again as the elevator doors opened. "C''mon. Whatever you''ve got nned, it can wait till after you get some shut eye."


    "I..." I sighed, finally epting that I could barely stand. "Thanks. I don''t... I don''t know what I''d do without ya, Cass..."


    "Don''t worry ''bout it, man," she said. "You know me. If you fall down on yer ass, I''ll be there t''pick ya back up." She patted me on the back, and smirked at me. "An'' then I''ll give you a smack fer bein'' so stupid."


    <em>The rain fell down in torrents. I trudged through the viscous, cloying mud, trying to climb up to the top of the hill even as every step threatened to pull me down into the bowels of the earth. The further I climbed, the steeper it seemed to get, until I was finally grabbing at the mud with my hands as well as pushing against the ground with my feet, and it felt more like climbing a wall than climbing a hill.</em>


    <em>Thunder boomed overhead, and the rain pummeled me in a relentless deluge. But I had to get to the top of the hill. I just </em><em><strong>had</strong></em><em> to. I wed at the terrain in front of me, and just as I looked up...</em>


    <em>A giant boulder fell out of the sky and smashed me in the face. I lost my grip on the muddy cliff, and tumbled backward as the world spun madly out of control. Before I could get my bearings, or try and clear my vision to see what was going on, I smashed face-first into a hard, t b of concrete.</em>


    "<em>Ugghhhh..." I grunted out, trying to peel myself from the floor. "What the fuck..."The rain was still pelting me relentlessly. It both sounded and felt like machine gun fire peppering me.</em>


    "<em>Well now..." A familiar voice above me startedughing. "Nice of you to drop in like this."</em>


    "<em>Benny?" I asked, finally finding the strength to push myself up and look around. Sure enough, Benny was standing a few feet away from me, wearing that hideous checkered jacket, and smoking as casual as you please. Despite the rain all around, he waspletely dry.</em>


    "<em>In the flesh. Or..." Heughed, taking another draw from his cigarette. "Close enough."</em>


    <em>I looked around, trying to figure out where we were. The muddy hill I''d been trying to climb was nowhere in sight... but there were plenty of rooftops. Even through the rain, I could see the lights of Vegas off to my left, the broken sections of highway off to my right, and the glowing Freeside sign below that. The churning storm clouds overhead were dropping down rain in buckets... except for a strangely clear patch behind Benny, which let the full moon shine through. It hung behind his head like a halo, and seemed... somehow bigger than normal.</em>


    "<em>Is this another warning?" I asked, pretty sure I''d figured out what was going on. Benny shrugged.</em>


    "<em>Sort of. I just wanted to let you know how surprised I am." I raised an eyebrow. "You''ve made it this far, daddy-o. You managed to squeak by, through all the poison, the madness, and the fire. They just keep poppin'' you, and you just keep getting back up? I would''ve lost that bet." I mimicked his shrug.</em>


    "<em>What can I say? I''m a juggernaut. I''ll just keep going and going and going..." I let out a singleugh. "... just to piss you off." Bennyughed, snorting out a huge cloud of smoke from his nostrils.</em>


    "<em>Fair enough... But in that case? You best hold on tight." He tossed his cigarette away, and backed up, melting into the shadows until all that was left were his eyes staring back at me out of the darkness. "From here on, things will only get rougher."</em>


    <em>I heard a sound behind me before I could question him further  it sounded like a foot kicking off against gravel. I spun around and a fist smashed into my face before I could properly react. I tumbled head over heels and clutched furiously at the ground, digging into the concrete roof with my cybeic hand and tearing it up.</em>


    "<em>Oh, </em><em><strong>you</strong></em><em>..." I growled, looking up. The Enve assassin was standing over me. A sh of lightning streaked across the sky behind her. I pushed off the ground with all my strength, and it began. The two of us started fighting, throwing punches and kicks like we were partners in some kind of strange dance. I ducked and blocked most of the strikes, and so did she.</em>


    "<em>What''s the matter?" I said, throwing a cross that she ducked. "Cat got your  WHOA!" She swept my legs, and I dropped like a ton of bricks. Another crack of lightning lit up the sky, and before I could get up, she was grabbing me by the ankles. </em>


    <em>The next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air. Thendscape of rooftops below me went by almost too fast for me to see... that is, until I realized that warehouse skylight in front of me was getting bigger and bigger by the second. I smashed through the ss with a sickening crack, and everything turned ck and red. Once again, I was subjected to the rather unpleasant sensation of smashing face-first into concrete.</em>


    <em>I could barely see. I could barely think. Every part of my body was on fire and screaming at me, begging for any kind of relief. All I knew was that I was lying face down, smashed against the cold stone of the concrete below me. I tried to crack open my eyes, and all I saw around me was a steadily growing pool of red.</em>


    <em>Blood. My blood.</em>


    <em>A massive hand gripped the top of my head, and lifted me up with an almost supernatural ease. The metal gauntlet was squeezing my skull, like it was trying to smash a melon... or squash a </em>grape<em>. I tried to scream, but all that came out of my mouth was an exhausted grunt  followed by another torrent of blood. The only thing I could do was try to crack one of my eyes open again and look around.</em>


    <em>I wasn''t in a warehouse. I was outside  on top of Hoover Dam. And everything was on fire. Bodies littered the top of the dam, piled up in bloody corners, painting the grey-brown stone almostpletely red. And all of this carnage was surrounding the figure holding me aloft: the bronzed metal giant, staring at me with glowing red eyes. His unmoving metal face was twisted in a snarl,plete with spiky beard. Horns were sticking out of the top of his head, and a tattered red cape flowed behind him like a river of blood. I may not believe in god... but he looked like a demon that had just walked straight out of Hell itself.</em>


    "<em>So... this is the </em><em><strong>best </strong></em><em>you can muster, Man of the West?" The deep voice boomed and echoed with an almost inhuman depth; it felt like hot coals being dragged across my eardrums. The sound almost turned my stomach. Heughed grimly. "</em><em><strong>PATHETIC! </strong></em><em>Back in the dirt with you, </em><em><strong>boy!</strong></em><em>"</em>


    <em>He let go of my head, and I began to fall. The world around me slipped away, in a swirling miasma of stone, blood, fire, and smoke. It was like the walls of Hoover Dam were rising up, closing in around me to swallow me whole, like a horrifying beast dredged up from the bowels of the earth.</em>


    <em>And then I was gone.</em>


    My eyes snapped open. I was lying in my bed in the Lucky 38, staring at the ceiling.


    I was a bit surprised. Not that it was a dream  that much had been obvious from the start. But it had been a while since I''d had a nightmare quite like that... and I hadn''t immediately jumped up out of bed when it ended so abruptly. Why not?


    "SNNNNXXXXX..." A loud snore  almost like someone sawing a log of wood  sounded off right next to my ear. I looked down and I got my answer. Cass was clinging to me, fast asleep, and snoring like a chainsaw. Her hair was a tangled mass of orange filling most of my view, her mouth was wide open plete with a thin trail of drool leaking out) as she snored up a storm, her shirt was only mostly buttoned, and she had a leg draped over mine while she clung to me like I was a giant teddy bear. What really made the image, though, was that I was <em>pretty sure </em>the fingers of her free hand were stuck down the front of her pants. All in all, I found the image pretty hriously endearing.


    I threw my head back and sighed, going back to staring at the ceiling of the darkened room. I tried to rey what images I could remember from the dream in my head, trying to keep them from fadingpletely before I slipped back into unconsciousness. Benny''s words definitely didn''t want to leave, and they echoed over and over again.


    "Hold on tight," I whispered aloud, giving Cass a gentle squeeze... more for my benefit than hers. She snorted, shifting her grip on me while her fingers reflexively tightened around my shirt. "Things will only get rougher..."

 Chapter 138: Sympathy for the Devil

    Chapter 138: Sympathy for the Devil


    It was just after ten in the morning, and the rain was stilling down. The ck droplets of poison water were striking the ss door to the balcony with such force that it was like the ss was being hit with hundreds of tiny stones. I stood at the door, coffee cup in one hand, cigarette in the other, and watched as the rain left dirty streaks of soggy, radioactive soot in their wake. I could barely even see the rest of The Strip through the murky, grey-brown haze.


    "Damn, it''s stilling down, isn''t it?" I heard Veronica say from behind me. I nced over my shoulder, and gave her a nod. Like me, she was drinking coffee. I guess it was a good idea to make more than just three cups worth.


    "Yeah. It should stop soon, though."


    "How can you be sure?"


    "I already checked out the weather station at X-17... er, the Big Empty," I said, honestly not sure if I''d told her all the details about that particr anecdote. "I had Jeeves in my ear the whole time, trying to walk me through the facility. Problem is, the only things still working in that fucking ce are the weather scanners. If the radar is right, then the storm should end naturally in a couple of hours. But I can''t figure out how to stop the rain earlier than that."


    "<em>Stop</em> it?" Veronica asked, a bit confused. "Wait, back up. Are you trying to tell me that there''s a weather <em>control </em>station somewhere in the Big Empty?" I shook my head.


    "No. Well, yes. I mean..." I sighed. "Not anymore. Thest time it was used... it... the actual control systems got burnt out." Pangs of guilt washed over me again; the one thing that could''ve stopped this torrent of poison rain, and it was <em>my fault</em> it was broken. "I talked with Jeeves and Doctor Zero about fixing it, and they both agreed: it <em>can</em> be fixed. But only if I work on it for two days straight."


    "When did you say the storm would end naturally again?"


    "A few hours, at most. Noon, if we''re lucky. Probably closer to two, though. About all I can do right now is make sure Yes Man''s securitrons keep patrolling the streets, and get them to try and clean up the rads once the rain stops. But there''s way too much ground to cover for a measly two dozen securitrons to deal with everything..."


    "Are you going to fix that weather station eventually?" Veronica took a sip of her coffee, holding it with both hands obscured by the ends of her sleeves. I nodded.


    "Yeah. It might be useful, if I can get it up and running again. But then again, Ulysses thought it was responsible for the sandstorms in the Divide, so who knows." I paused, taking another sip of coffee. "That said, I''m going to make sure absolutely <strong>everything </strong>isbeled correctly this time." Veronica looked at me curiously, and I just kept staring out the window. "But there''s no sense rushing to fix it now. I can''t fix it before the storm ends, and I''ve got other things to worry about."


    "Like what?"


    "Like that gang the Omertas traded with for new hookers. Cachino called them Los Zorroz. He told me about a meeting they were gonna haveter tonight, and I''m gonna do my best to crash that party. Speaking of," I set my coffee down on a nearby table, and extinguished my smoke in the ashtray before turning to Veronica. "Do you think we can get in another round of fight practice today?"


    "Yeah, sure we can..." Veronica still looked just a little confused. "Just one thing. You said you''ve already been to the Big Empty this morning?"


    "Yup." I nodded.


    "Isn''t it... you know, really kind of... <em>big</em>? How''d you get there, do all that stuff you just said, and get back here already? Didn''t you only wake up, like, an hour ago?" I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the Transportalponder! and twirled it around my fingers several times.


    "It''s amazing how fast a person can travel if one has the right coordinates."


    "And if you have the <em>wrong</em> coordinates?" she asked tentatively.


    "Probably teleported into solid rock somewhere, or something else equally horrific," I said with a shrug.


    "So, what''ve you got for me today?" I asked, following Veronica into the gym: just another one of the many underground facilities beneath the Lucky 38. The ce was a huge room filled with exercise equipment, free weights, weight machines, punching bags, and arge boxing ring right in the center. I don''t know if it was the lights or what, but everything down here seemed to be washed in a brown, almost sepia-like color.


    "Well, we''ve already covered most of the basics," Veronica said as she made her way to the sound system mounted in the back wall; she had her box of vinyl under one arm, and her record yer under the other. "I was thinking today we could cover some techniques I learned in Knight Webb''s Applied Violence ss." She nodded at Boone as she walked straight past him. He was too busy on his back, benching a barbell, to take notice.


    "Shouldn''t you have a spotter or something?" I asked, pausing in front of Boone. He just gave a nomittal grunt and kept lifting.


    "He does have a spotter," Arcade''s voice sounded from around the corner. He emerged with a pair of water bottles in hand. "But he''s just too impatient. I told you to wait until I got back with more water!" Arcade grabbed the middle of the bar, and guided it back to the mounts with a metal clunk.


    "You were taking too long," Boone grunted, wiping his forehead as he finally sat up. "We''re burning daylight." Arcade shook his head, and tossed Boone one of the bottles; he caught it deftly. "Thanks. Wanna do a set yourself?"


    "Thought you''d never ask," Arcade said with a smile.


    Amusing as it was to watch the two of them going at it, I suddenly became aware of a change in atmosphere. Veronica must have already set up the record yer, because I could hear the sound of several types of drums and... is... is that the sound of somebody shaking <em>maracas</em>?


    <em>Please allow me to introduce myself,</em>


    <em>I''m a man of wealth and taste,</em>


    <em>I''ve been around for a long, long year,</em>


    <em>Stole many a man''s soul and faith...</em>


    "You ready to get started?'' Veronica asked from the center of the boxing ring. She''d ditched both the robe and her semi-powered armorpletely. Her hair was wrapped in a tight bun, and she was wearing a pair of jean shorts, a t-shirt, and had a pair of boxing gloves on her hands. I climbed through the ropes and she tossed a spare pair of gloves my way.


    "What''re we listening to?" I asked,cing up the gloves. Before I was even halfway finished, she swept my legs, knocking me off bnce, and followed up with a kick to the chest. It wasn''t hard, but it did the trick. I flew backward,nded against the ropes, and by the time I looked up, she was tossing away her gloves.


    "Beggars Banquet. It''s my favorite Rolling Stones album," she said with a grin, folding her arms across her chest. "It fits, because Applied Violence was one of my favorite sses growing up. You already know how to fight dirty like a street brawler. Now it''s time you learn how to <em>truly </em>fight dirty."


    After an exhausting workout, I got myself cleaned up, and Yes Man let me know of an interesting development. That''s how I found myself in the car park around noon.


    "Stripe?" I asked aloud, my voice echoing through the darkness. "Sasha? You guys down here? Yes Man said you two wanted to talk to me." I hit the switch with a clunk, and the lights flickered on... but not all of them. Several of the lights were either obscured by mud or destroyedpletely. The ground was covered in more than just the dposing remains of the animals Stripe had eaten, but piles of soft peat, damp soil, and other refuse. Each one of my footsteps was punctuated by a damp squish. As I made my way to the parked deuce, a growl echoed off the concrete walls.


    "<strong>Helloooo... Alpha...</strong>" Stripe shuffled around from the other side of the deuce, with Sasha delicately held in one paw. His eyes twinkled in the shadows cast by his heavy brow... and maybe it was a trick of the light, but he looked even bigger.


    "Greetings, my friend!" Sasha bellowed. The brain under the barrels barked. "It is good to see you! We have much good news, and many things to discuss!"


    "Yeah?" I said, smiling at the minigun. "What''s up?"


    "Stripe!  ! Grab the ns!" The next thing I knew, Stripe was pressing the blunt edge of his ws into my chest, knocking the wind out of me.


    "<strong>Here.</strong>" Stripe growled, handing me Sasha. "<strong>Hold him a moment.</strong>" I grabbed the minigun, and Stripe swung around, sticking his head in the back of the deuce. I had to step back  his tail was swishing back and forth as he rummaged around in the back.


    "We have been working hard, and we think this n has potential!" Sasha said happily. Stripe pulled his head out of the deuce, clutching a pile of papers in his mouth; as he emerged, I heard a bark, and Roxie stuck her head and paws out of the back, resting on the tailgate and panting happily.


    "Yeah, you mentioned a n the other day. What is it?" Stripe cradled the minigun with his massive paw, and opened his mouth, allowing me to grab the papers.


    "You will see, it is best n! Wouldn''t you agree, Stripe?" The massive deathw nodded his head.


    "<strong>!</strong>" Stripe let out a growling chuckle as I looked over the papers. They were pretty crude  like a three year old with a crayon had been let loose  but the closer I looked, the more I realized that they were actually schematics. Pretty detailed schematics, at that...


    "Are you... you guys can''t be serious," I said, once I finally figured out what this would build.


    "Of course we are serious, !" Sasha let out a deep, bellowingugh. "You like what you see, ?"


    "It''s..." I flipped through the pages, marveling at how something so crudely drawn could be soplex. "It''s absurd. It''s insane. It''s absolutely nuts. I <strong>love </strong>it!" I looked up at the two of them with a smile, and they startedughing. "I just... I only have one question. Who drew these? I mean, no offense, Sasha, but you don''t have opposable thumbs. Or... <em>hands </em>of any kind. Stripe, did you do this?"


    "Doh-hoh-hoh-hoh!" Sashaughed, the brain tank glowing and bubbling slightly with the sound. "Of course not! Stripe''s ws are made for shing, and the killing of teeny-tiny baby men of enemy team! He is not good with detail. He is more broad-strokes fellow, you understand."


    "But... then who..." I looked back at the drawings again confused.


    "Why, it was Roxie who helped us, of course!" Sasha said happily.


    I stood there in stunned silence, staring at the minigun. My mouth worked uselessly for several seconds, opening and closing, but no words came out. I heard a bark, and my attention was drawn to Roxie, still perched on the edge of the deuce''s tailgate. Except there was something different: the cyberdog had a ck sharpie clutched in her jaws.


    At first, I didn''t want to believe it. I didn''t want to <em>ept</em> it. But the more I thought about it: if Roxie could <em>drive the deuce and a half</em>, then why couldn''t she also do a bit of artwork on the side? Sure! Why the fuck not?


    "Good dog," I said with a shrug. Roxie barked, dropping the marker, and panting happily.


    The air crackled with ozone and electricity, and I stepped off the teleport tform.


    "Good afternoon, sir," Jeeves'' voice wafted at me through the speakers. "What can I do for you?"


    "Hey man," I said with a smile, blueprints in hand. "Sasha and Stripe have an idea. I wanted to see if I could get your help fabricating some of the parts." I spread out the many drawings on Jeeves'' table, and immediately the holograms changed into scanning beams.


    "As always, I endeavor to give satisfaction, sir." Jeeves'' said. "Was there anything else?"


    "There is, actually. Did the Think Tank ever design any spy stuff? Listening devices, GPS trackers, that kind of thing?" The holographic bars twitched.


    "Yes... yes, I believe I have just the thing for you, sir."


    "Attention citizens: Seek shelter immediately. The rain is radioactive. Drinking it will kill you. Attention citizens..."


    It was quarter to eleven at night, and I watched as one of Yes Man''s securitrons rolled up and down one of the many streets in Freeside. The rain had stopped several hours ago, but I made sure Yes Man kept the robots patrolling the streets and broadcasting their message. A few of the robots were already clearing up the bigger puddles on Vegas Boulevard and Freemont street, but that process was slow, and they wouldn''t get to some of the back streets for quite some time.


    I couldn''t worry about all the details of that little diversion right now, however. It was almost time for me to crash that Los Zorroz party. That''s why my Corvega was parked in a graffiti-lined back alley, just around the corner from the warehouse. I did onest check of my inventory, securing all my weapons, tools, and my helmet, before pulling the grapnel gun out of my duster.


    "You ready for this?" I said aloud, aiming for the roof.


    "Of course! This should be easy," Sue replied.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I shot up, vaulting onto the roof with ease. There were a fewrge puddles of ck water up here, but they didn''t seem to set off my Geiger counter, so I started running. I reached the other edge of the roof and jumped, firing the grapnel gun again. For a terrifying half second, I was afraid that I''d misjudged my aim... but the dartnded on the edge of the warehouse roof, and it drew me up with a mechanical whirr.


    And then I realized I <em>had </em>misjudged my aim, only in the opposite direction. My shoulder and the top of my helmet mmed into the wall, and it was all I could do to scramble against the wall, desperately searching for a handhold. My hand found purchase, and I shoved the grapnel gun back in my coat before reaching up to try and pull myself onto the roof.


    "Ghh... fkk''n... sonu''va..." I grunted out through gritted teeth, until I finally pulled myself up, rolling onto the roof. "Damn... I think I need more practice with that..."


    "I''ll say," Sue chuckled. "But hey, look on the bright side: at least we''re still alive!"


    "Fair enough," I shook my head, and looked around the roof of the warehouse, trying to find a way inside. It was mostly rusted A/C boxes and a few spinning turbine vents... but there was onerge skylight in the center. Even through the dirty, broken ss, I could see some lights from inside spilling out. Carefully and quietly, I opened the skylight and climbed down onto the lighting grid in the warehouse''s ceiling.


    "Man, how long we gotta wait here, anyway?" I heard someone say from below.


    "Oh fer Christ sake, man," another voice said. "We just <strong>got</strong> here. Besides, you know th'' fuckin'' Omertas. They''re alwayste."


    "You''d think they''d be more grateful. I heard some of their girls escapedst night, they need some new merch."


    I couldn''t see where they were. The sounds echoed off everything, and there were tons of shelves obscuring my view. I just kept quiet and crept along the metal bars, trying to find them. That''s about when I heard some soft sobbing  followed by a crack of someone getting pped.


    "Shut the fuck up, puta," one of the thugs said. The sobbing didn''t stop. "I said <strong>SHUT UP!</strong>" There was another crack, and the sobbing stopped.


    "Take it easy, man," I heard another thug say. "You get too rough with the meat, the Omertas won''t pay up."


    "Yeah, yeah, yeah..."


    I switched my eyes to thermal. I had to find them now, and the acoustics weren''t helping. I saw a blob of heat somewhere ahead of me. I was too far away to see any individual shapes, or figure out exactly how many of the thugs I was dealing with, but at least I knew where they were now. My eyes shifted back to normal and as I made my way over to them, the thugs kept talking.


    "You think the Boss is gonna show up?"


    "What, Cachino?"


    "No, you stupid fuck, not the Omertas boss! The <strong>Boss</strong>."


    "Ohh... right. Pfft. No. Why would he?"


    "He has before."


    "Nah. He''s not gonna show his face this time. Not with all that radioactive water everywhere. Besides, he knows we can handle this deal. It''s a milk run."


    "Wait, you actually believe that crap those robots are spoutin''?"


    "Well sure. Or did you miss that fuckin'' <em>mushroom cloud</em> the other day?"


    "Good point." He paused. "You think it''s true what people''re sayin''?"


    "About what?"


    "About... you know, the nuke. I''ve been hearin'' people talk... they say it was the Courier who set it off."


    "The Courier? The fuck would he do that?"


    "I dunno. Something about some kinda... fight, I dunno. Something that happened in the Divide. People said heunched the nuke, because there was something there he tried to kill. Something worse than <em>him</em>."


    "Man, that''s the stupidest thing I''ve ever heard. Pull yer fuckin'' head out''ve yer ass, an'' stop believin'' everything people say."


    "Hey, fuck you! I didn''t say I believed it! I''m just tellin'' you what I heard, is all."


    I finally came to a stop and looked down. There were five thugs of all shapes, sizes, and skin color right below me, all armed with submachine guns like MAC-10''s and Uzi''s. One was carrying an assault rifle  an R91  slung across his chest. They were surrounding a group of about 8 girls (also of various skin colors) all huddled together in a circle under one of the lights. Each one of the girls was fitted with an explosive ve cor.


    And then I noticed what all the thugs were wearing: red. Each of them was wearing at least one article of clothing that was a vivid, bright red. A shirt, a hat, a bandanna... So, Los Zorroz must be the gang Boone told me about the other day. I almost felt ashamed that I hadn''t put it together earlier.


    "Fuck, man, I''m bored," one of the thugs said. He was sitting on a nearby box with his gun pointed at the girls. One other bigger thugs  a ck dude with a red bandana wrapped around one of his biceps  smacked the one sitting down upside the head.


    "Quit bitchin'', motherfucker. Nobody cares."


    "Fuck you say?!" The guy tried to stand up, but was shoved back down real quick.


    "He''s got a point," said another thug  a Hispanic looking dude wearing a red beanie and a dirty wifebeater. "Where the fuck are they?"


    I was looking around as they talked, trying to figure out what my opening gambit would be. I couldn''t just drop down and try and shoot the bastards. Well, to be fair, I <em>could</em>, but if I did that, then there was a chance that one of the girls would get hit with a stray shot  or worse, one of these assholes might detonate the ve cors. I couldn''t let that happen. I needed to divide these assholes. Take them out one by one.


    I switched my eyes to the EM vision. All around, the lights and all the wires glowed with white energy on a blue-ck haze. I traced the path of the wires, trying to figure out where it led to  and my eyes were drawn to a bright white box on one of the far walls. I switched my eyes back to normal, and saw that it was a fuse box. Jackpot.


    I drew the Pulse Gun, switched my eyes to nightvision, took aim, and fired. A sh of energy briefly lit up the warehouse before the fuse box overloaded, causing all the lights to explode.


    "What the fuck?!" One of the thugs shouted. "What just happened?" The thugs below me all looked up into the darkness, pointing their weapons. But I was already invisible, and moving along the scaffolding.


    "Shit. I think the fuses blew. Carlos, go check it out."


    "What? Why do I gotta " Before he finished, he was shoved in the direction of the fuse box by one of the other thugs.


    "Just get goin'', fuckhead."


    The Hispanic dude pulled out a shlight and walked away from the group, grumbling the entire time. I snuck over the top of one of the shelves, following him as he walked to the fuses. He shone the light on the box when he got close enough, and came to a halt.


    "Qu carajo?" He leaned in to get a better look at the melted metal box. "Did this thing explode''r somethin''?"


    He didn''t get an answer. Instead, he got me dropping down off the shelf, andnding boot-first right on top of him.


    "What the " His legs buckled and his face smashed into the wall; I reached over with an invisible hand, grabbed his wrist holding the Micro Uzi, and jammed my knee against his arm. It snapped with a crack and he let go of the gun, crying out in pain. The SMG ttered to the ground, firing off a burst  which drowned out the sound of me smashing his face into the concrete wall a second time.


    "What the fuck?!" I heard one of the thugs yell. "Carlos! What''s goin'' on?"


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "Spread out!" I heard another one of them cry out. "There''s someone here. Daryl, stay with the meat."


    I switched my eyes to thermal, and watched as three of the four thugs started moving through the warehouse, all of them with their guns drawn. None of them were looking up, and I couldn''t help but smile to myself:


    Guards don''t look up. This''ll be easy.


    "Man, I don''t like this..." one of them said, trying to navigate through the warehouse.


    "Shut up an'' keep lookin!" the ck dude with the R91 yelled back.


    "Easy for you to say, you gotta fuckin'' shlight!" He cursed under his breath, tripping over a box in his way. "I can''t see a thi  MMFT!" I''d dropped down behind him without a sound, and grabbed the back of his head with my cybeic hand and ced my other hand over his mouth. I twisted, and his neck snapped with a satisfying crunch.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "Marvin?" I heard one of the thugs yell, turning to the sound. "Oh, fuck... what the fuck is goin'' on?"


    "It''s just some asshole tryin'' to fuck with us! Find him!"


    While those two were busy on the opposite end of the warehouse, I made my way back to the scaffolding above the girls. There was just one thug watching the girls  or, rather, he was looking around, pointing his MAC-10 wildly at nothing in particr. I looked closer, and realized that he had a remote in his free hand  that must be the trigger for ve cors.


    "What the fuck is goin'' on..." He muttered just as I dropped down behind him with one of mybat knives drawn. I slipped into VATS, and brought the knife down on the hand holding the detonator. It sliced cleanly into his wrist, and he dropped the trigger just as I kicked out the back of his knees, let go of the knife, and grabbed the gun with my cybeic hand. I forced him to point it up, and it discharged into the ceiling a few times before I ripped it out of his grip, and shoved him to the floor. The girls gasped and shrieked  especially when I brought my transparent metal fist down onto the back of his head, and didn''t stop until I hit concrete.


    "Find somece to hide," I whispered just loud enough for the girls to hear, the therm-optic camo flickering as I picked up the detonator. I crushed it in my cybeic hand, and the shattered pieces fell to the floor with a tter. "I''ll be back." The girls didn''t move, but that was hardly surprising  it was still too dark for them to see anything.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "It came from over here!" The ck dude with the shlight was doubling back towards the girls. He didn''t notice me drop down right behind him, and remained oblivious until I knifed him in the kidneys. "AUGH! WHAT THE <strong>FUCK</strong>!?" He spun around, swinging a massive fist behind him, trying to hit me. I ducked and grabbed the end of his rifle; he fired it, but all the bullets went wide, straight into the wall behind me.


    So, how did I retaliate? By kneeing him in the crotch, pulling the rifle out of his hands when he doubled over in pain, and jamming the stock right into the center of his face. He practically flew backward, crashing into the shelves in a bloody heap. I spun the rifle around in my hands, and fired off a round in the middle of his face, just to be sure.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "Oh shit... oh fuck... oh shit... oh fuck!" Thest thug was absolutely terrified now. He was backing up, trying to make his way toward the door. The hand holding the gun was shaking like he was bursting for a piss. "What the fuck... what the fuck is going on?!"


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "AUGH!" He yelled, as the grapnel wrapped around his leg, and he unexpectedly (from his point of view, at least) was drawn up to the ceiling, hanging upside down by his leg. I hit the button on my belt to shift back into visibility, grabbed him by the boot, and slid a sharp, tiny metal device into his boot heel as he thrashed around madly in my grip.


    "HOLY FUCK!" He yelled as I gave him a nice shake, before unhooking the grapnel from his leg. "Don''t kill me! Don''t kill me, man! Fuck!" I grabbed him by the cor and turned him around so he was right-side up again, and held him over the drop.


    "I''m not going to kill you," I growled at him, the red lenses of my helmet lighting up his face. "I want you to tell all your friends about me."


    "WHAT <em>ARE</em> YOU?!" His voice wavered like he was on the verge of tears as his legs dangled helplessly over the drop.


    "I''m Ba- I''m the Courier," I said, correcting myself. I''ll be honest  I was grinning like an idiot under the mask. Doing the whole ''Batman'' thing is <em>really </em>fun! Of course, it may have helped that during this whole exercise of picking off the mooks one-by-one, I had that Rolling Stones album ying in my head. I certainly did have Sympathy for the Devil, because right now the Devil was <strong>ME!</strong>


    And then I dropped him.


    It wasn''t that high of a fall  maybe less than two stories  so he screamed, fell in a heap, and after thrashing around on the floor for a bit, he scrambled back to his feet and ran out of the warehouse, screaming like a moron.


    "It''s all right," I said, dropping off the shelves near the girls, and turning on my Pip Boy''s light. "I''ve taken care of them."


    "Wh... what... how did you..." one of the girls asked breathlessly; the rest of them kept hiding in the shadows as I approached. "Who are..."


    "I''m the Courier," I said, holding my hands up to show them they were empty. "I''m here to get you out of here. I can get those explosive cors off your necks as well, if you''ll let me." I didn''t walk any closer, and was going to let theme to me. They were terrified enough as it was, and I didn''t want to freak them out any more.


    "But..." one of the other girls in the back spoke up. "That other guy  you let him go?"


    "Don''t worry," I said with a nod. "He won''t get far." That wasn''t <em>entirely </em>true. I''m sure he''d get far enough. But with that tracking device I nted in the heel of his boot, he''d lead me straight to their hideout. If thatment earlier about ''the Boss'' was any indication, then I was on the cusp of something much, much bigger... and I needed to get as much intelligence as I could about who (or what) Los Zorroz actually were.


    "Are... are you for real?" asked another girl. "You''re really going to help us escape?"


    "Of course," I said with a shrug. "Didn''t you hear? I''m a superhero. I do this kind of thing all the time."

 Chapter 139: Combat Rock

    Chapter 139: Combat Rock


    <em>Darlin'' you got to let me know</em>


    <em>Should I stay or should I go?</em>


    <em>If you say that you are mine</em>


    <em>I''ll be here ''til the end of time</em>


    <em>So you got to let me know</em>


    <em>Should I stay or should I go?</em>


    The music echoed from the speakers in the ceiling of the Penthouse. When I asked Veronica if she had any good ''working'' music in her box of vinyl, she suggested I listen to an album by <em>The sh</em>. As I sat in front of the cluster of monitors plugged into the mainframe up in the penthouse, surrounded by paper covered in notes and nursing thest drops of my coffee, I couldn''t disagree. Every record she produced from that box was <em>fantastic</em>, and I''d barely scratched the surface.


    Still, I couldn''t focus on that now. I needed to finish sorting through all this data I''d been collecting sincest night. Between the tracking device I''d slipped into the boot heel of that one thug, the plethora of surveince cameras in Freeside, and the video feeds from all the patrolling securitrons, I had plenty of intelligence. Now, I just needed to make sense of it all.


    I heard some footsteps behind me; even with the music, the footsteps seemed really loud. Like someone wearing tap-shoes stomping on a hardwood floor. Without even looking up from the notes I was scribbling, I nodded my head and gave a wave over my shoulder.


    "Morning, Emily," I said, and she stopped in her tracks.


    "Uh... hi. How''d you know it was me?" she asked.


    "Lucky guess," I shrugged. It was probably impolite to tell her that I heard hering a mile off. I thought back to the other day, when Cass startled me so badly while I was busy building the grapnel gun. For a woman about as subtle as a shotgun st to the wedding tackle most of the time, Cass could move like a ghost when she needed to.


    "I see." Suddenly a fresh cup of coffee materialized near my shoulder. "Want some more coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot."


    "Oh, thanks," I smiled, taking the cup and going back to my notes. Emily pulled up a chair and sat next to me, her eyes darting across my notes and monitors.


    "So, what are you doing?" Emily asked, taking a sip of her coffee. "This doesn''t look like you''re going through House''s files."


    "That''s because I''m not," I said, setting the notes aside. "I''m trying to put together a coherent picture of a gang in Freeside. Los Zorroz." I took a sip of my coffee and went back to the monitors. "It''s kind of surprising  and just a <em>little bit</em> scary  how many cameras are still working out there. There was probably very little that went on in Freeside or The Strip that House <em>didn''t</em> know about..."


    I thought back to something House said before I killed him: <em>"Intelligence gained from surveince is the most valuable currency  and most dangerous weapon  in the world. This was true before the world ended, and is doubly so now... and there is no one better at surveince than </em>me<em>." </em>I shook it off and took another sip of coffee.


    "I think I''ve found a few ces where they operate, but it hasn''t been easy. I''m not built for this sort of... gathering-and-sorting-intelligence kind of thing." I chuckled, shaking my head. "I''m no detective, that''s for certain." It took all of my willpower and self control to omit the words ''Dark Knight'' before ''Detective,'' what with all the Batman jokes I''d been makingtely.


    "Want some help?" Emily asked suddenly. I did a double take, and set my coffee down.


    "You serious?" I asked. She nodded.


    "Well... yeah. In case you haven''t noticed, I''m pretty good at making sense ofrge amounts of data. I was even going to try and bug House''swork... you know, back before..." She cleared her throat and looked immensely ufortable. "...you know, before Benny cut me loose." Ah. That exins it.


    "Alright. But what about the rest of House''s files? Wouldn''t helping me out with this distract you from that?" Emily shrugged.


    "It''s mostly automated by now. Whatever is left to decrypt will get taken care of eventually, no input required from anyone else. Plus, Jeeves has been talking with Yes Man a lottely, and..." She smiled. "Between the files already decrypted, and all the craziness from the Big Empty, you don''t need my help with <em>that</em> any more. But all this?" Emily waved at the various monitors and all my notes. "I might be able to help with <em>this</em>. If you let me use one of those earpiece sat-phones you brought back, I can watch out for you whenever you''re in Freeside. I could be your Mission Control."


    "Alright," I said with a small nod, grabbing my coffee. "Sounds like a good idea..." I smirked. "<em>Alfred</em>." Emily looked confused.


    "Wait, what?" Before I could exin, April appeared behind me with Muggy sitting on her shoulder.


    "Hey, are you busy?" April asked. She knocked back the rest of her coffee, and then handed the empty mug to the tiny securitron.


    "Uh..." was all I managed to say.


    "Great, quick question," she said before I finished talking. "Do you know anyone who can sing?"


    "Oh, not this again!" Emily sighed and buried her face in her hands. She snorted out augh and shook her head.


    "Not... wait, what? Again?" I said, looking back and forth between the two scientists. "What are you talking about?"


    "Veronica wants to start up a band," Emily said just as April opened her mouth to talk. "When she found out April used to y drums in college, one thing led to another, and now they''re looking for a singer. They''ve been bugging everyone about it thest few days."


    "Hang on," I said, picking up on something. "<em>You''re</em> a drummer?" April nodded and smiled.


    "Not a drummer - a <em>percussionist</em>. I yed for a band called ''Tuesday Complex'' when I was studying at university," she shrugged. "I know the drummer stereotype is someone who can barely think, but those people don''t understand how much math is involved in keeping up with an irrational time measure like 11/4. So, do you know anyone who can sing?"


    "Uh..." I leaned back in the chair and scratched my head. "Yeah, I don''t... Sorry, I don''t <em>think</em> I know anybody who sings..."


    A thought crossed my mind. I didn''t know anybody who could sing <em>per se</em>, but I knew someone who hadthe <em>voice</em> of a singer... only problem is, I couldn''t get to her. Not yet. Not until I could figure out how to wipe the Sierra Madre off the map. And more importantly, I needed to do it <em>without</em> using any nukes. After what happened in the Divide... that was one line I was <strong>not</strong> willing to cross.


    Not again. Not <strong>ever</strong>.


    "If I find anybody, I''ll let you know."


    The sign above The King''s ce was just asrge and neon and <em>pink</em> as it had been the first time I saw it. I was leaning against my car, looking up at it, and tapped my earpiece.


    "You really think he''s going to help?" I asked.


    "Absolutely," Emily responded in my ear. "The intel we''ve collected so far is good, but if you''re really serious about taking on Los Zorroz, The King is your best bet. Freeside is his home. He''s bound to help. No one else has the numbers, and no one else has the will."


    "Fair enough," I sighed, pulling out my packet of smokes. I flipped the top and realized I was running low again. Before I got the chance to light one, Emily spoke up in my ear:


    "You know those things will kill you, right?"


    "Yeah, well," I muttered, lighting the cigarette hanging out of my mouth and snapping Benny''s old lighter shut with a click. "What else is new?" I looked around, snorting a puff of smoke out my nostrils. "Out of curiosity, how many cameras are "


    "Three," she said, not even brothering to let me finish. "Two across the street, and one right above your head." I stared up at the sign, trying to find where it was hidden... but after a few puffs, I shrugged my shoulders, gave up, tossed the spent smoke away, and stepped inside.


    "Hey, Pacer," I said, walking through the crowd of Kings. Pacer was wearing that same Jailhouse Rocker outfit, leaning against the wall in almost exactly the same ce as the first time I''d seen him. "Is The King around?"


    "Oh..." he nodded after looking up. "Hey there, Courier. Yeah, he''s in the back." He jabbed the air over his shoulder with his thumb. "I think Linda an'' Ginger are with him, so... be careful. He might not wanna be disturbed. Then again... it''s <em>you</em>, so. Who knows?"


    "Thanks," I nodded and started to move, but paused at the threshold. I thought back to thest time I saw him, and decided to try and make amends  even if that whole situation with the NCR was <strong>entirely</strong> his fault. "Oh, hey, by the way... no hard feelings?" I offered my hand.


    "Say what?" Pacer looked confused. I shook my head.


    "Y''know what, nevermind. See you around man." And with that, I made my way to the back.


    "What was that about?" Emily asked in my ear.


    "Long story," I said, emerging from the short hallway into the theater in the back. All around, I could see a whole bunch of Kings sitting down at the two dozen tables, having lunch, chatting, and generally causing a dull roar ofmotion while a band yed one of The King''s songs up on stage.


    I looked around and eventually found The King. He was sitting at one of the booths in the back, nked on either side by a pair of blondes. Rex was lying down in front of the booth, gnawing on a bone; he perked his head up and barked when I got close, the brain in his tank shing and bubbling. That was enough to get The King''s attention.


    "Well, well, well!" he said with a smile. "What brings The Courier back to my little slice of paradise?" Rex sat up and panted at me, so I scratched behind his ears; the cyberdog nuzzled into my hand. I think he was being so friendly less because he remembered me, and more because he <em>may</em> have smelled Roxie. Oh man, Sasha is going to be jealous...


    "I''m here to talk some business," I said. "About Los Zorroz." The King''s expression fell, and he suddenly became serious. He cleared his throat.


    "Ladies, you know I love ya. But I''ve gotta talk shop with my friend here. Make yer pretty little behinds scarce for a minute." The two blondes sighed, but they both got up and brushed past me. The King motioned for me to sit in the now empty seat. "So... Los Zorroz is next on your hit list, huh?" I nodded. "Good. It''s ''bout time someone stood up to those scumbags. The way I hear it, they won''tst long against the ''Indestructible Courier''." I chuckled softly, shaking my head.


    "I appreciate your confidence, but I''m not indestructible. I''ve got a good team  friends I can count on to back me up, and they''re the ones who make the difference when it really counts. Besides, I don''t want to jump in blind. I''m trying to find out who Los Zorroz really are first, and exactly what I''m up against. Maybe get some help from outside my ''Team Awesome'' when I take them down." I smirked. "I was told you''re the man to talk to." The King screwed up his face and nodded solemnly.


    "Well... I don''t know how much help I can be. They''ve been stayin'' away from King territory for the most part, and I''ve told my boys to keep their heads down and not do anything stupid. But the kind of trouble Los Zorroz have been causin''tely, it''s only a matter of time before they make a move on us."


    "What kind of trouble?" I asked, pretty sure I already knew the answer.


    "General chaos and mayhem. When they''re not snatchin'' people, or floodin'' Freeside with drugs, they spend their days shakin'' down shop owners for ''protection'' money... when they don''t just set fire to the owner for kicks. It''s a damn good thing so many buildings in Freeside are made out of brick, metal and concrete, I''ll tell you that. Otherwise, Freeside might''ve been burnt to ashes months ago..."


    "If they''re that much of a nuisance," putting it mildly "then why don''t you guys make a move first? I''ve seen enough Kings walking around Freeside, you certainly seem to have the numbers..."


    "Maybe, but we don''t have the firepower." The King shook his head. "The heaviest hitters we have in our stocks are some 10mm SMG''s. Maybe a Thompson or two. I''ve been trying for weeks to figure out how to deal with those red devils, but we don''t have the guns, we don''t have the ammo, and we don''t have the armor to take them down. I''m not gonna risk any of my boys on a suicide run just to take out a pack of two-bit scavvers."


    An idea popped into my head, and I held up a finger.


    "Hold on a second," I turned away from the King and tapped my earpiece. "Emily? You reading me?" The King looked confused, but didn''t say anything.


    "Loud and clear! What do you need?"


    "Didn''t we find something that looked a little like an armory earlier?"


    "Uhh... yeah, I think so. Just let... me... check..." I heard the faint muffled sounds of fingers tapping on keys, and a few shuffling papers. "Yes. Yes, there was something - an old apartment building off 28th street. It''s definitely Los Zorroz territory, if the graffiti is anything to go by. The way it''s fortified, it''s either an armory or... maybe a barracks? Either way, it should have guns."


    "Thanks, Em. I''ll keep you posted," I turned back to The King with a smile. "If I can get you guys some heavier ordnance, do you think maybe you can help me take down Los Zorroz?"


    "What''d you have in mind?" Even though he didn''t say it out loud, I knew he was already on board.


    "I''m gonna kill two birds with one stone. I''m gonna break into a Los Zorroz armory, steal as many of their guns and as much ammo as I can carry, and bring ''em back to you guys. Sound good?" I said, offering The King my hand. He started nodding his head and smiled, shaking my hand.


    "I think that sounds like a great id-" Suddenly, he paused, looking down at my hand quizzically. "Is... is that metal? Holy... man, I didn''t think <strong>that</strong> story was <em>true</em>."


    The sky was finally starting to clear up. The waning crescent moon was poking through the clouds, as were all the stars... but it was still pretty dark from my vantage point. Not quite pitch ck, but not bright enough to ruin my cover. I was on the roof of the building opposite the apartment block that Los Zorroz had (apparently) turned into an armory.


    It was unmistakably fortified, unlike the warehouse I''d raidedst night. Almost every window was either boarded up or covered in metal bars and corrugated steel. There were three sentries on the roof that I could see, keeping watch... but they hadn''t spotted me. If they had, they probably would''ve been shooting at me already.


    There was arge sign above the front door, and the only part of the original sign left was the word "ARMS" in big block letters. Subtle. The walls were covered in graffiti, but the one that stood out the loudest  even bathed in nightvision green  was therge tag above the "ARMS." It was that peculiar brand of graffiti that is so stylized, it almost doesn''t look like real words until you stare at it for long enough. It spelled out "LOS ZORROZ," except the first R and the second Z were reversed, like someone had put a mirror straight down the middle of the word. This was definitely a ce they owned, and a ce they wanted to keep.


    Time for a change in management.


    "Boone." I whispered. "You in position?" I cast a nce off to my right; I caught a glint of a scope at the edge of the freeway. We were too far away from the 38 for him to use it as a sniper perch, so he opted for something a little closer.


    "Affirmative," his voice growled through my earpiece.


    "Light ''em up." I said. Three muffled bangs broke the silence. The three sentries were dead before they knew what hit them.


    "Do you need additional cover?" Boone asked as I pulled out the grapnel gun.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "Nah, I''m good," I grabbed the edge of the roof and vaulted onto the ceiling of Los Zorroz Arms. "The fighting from here on will be inside. I know you''re good, but I don''t think even you can get a bead on a target through concrete walls."


    "I''ve got the .50 with me," Boone said, tly. "I can <strong>try</strong>." I snorted back augh.


    "Thanks for the thought," I said, shoving the grapnel gun back into my duster and moving for the door. "But I need you to grab the deuce. Keep the motor running, and I''ll give the all clear when it''s safe to bring it to the front."


    "Roger that. Out." There was a click, and suddenly silence.


    "Ready for this, Sue?" I asked, pulling out That Gun.


    "No one will be as unseen as us!" she said with a chipper sort of sing-song. I cautiously pushed open the door, which led into a staircase. I clicked the button on my belt and shifted into transparency, descending into the building.


    I found myself in a long hallway, and every single door leading to every single room was open. It didn''t take long for me to determine that, yes, this ce did in fact have a whole shitload of guns. Every room was absolutely <em>filled </em>with rifles, submachine guns, pistols, boxes of ammo, grenades... hell, I even saw a cluster of RPG-7''s leaning against one wall, directly underneath a sign that said "Never mind the dog! Beware of OWNER!" and a very heavily used shooting range target.


    It wasn''t just guns, however. The amount of decrepit furniture I saw as I carefully snuck through the building (things like easy chairs, moth-eaten sofas, beds, etc) meant they were probably using this ce as an apartment building as well. The one thing I <em>didn''t </em>see as I carefully made my way down the hall, past all the wide-open doors, were any <em>people</em>. There were some muffled voices from somewhere...


    I blinked, and suddenly the world around me was awash in blue. There were no heat signatures on this floor... but I looked down, and saw three clusters of reddish-orange blobs. I blinked again, and everything returned to nightvision-green. I started to backtrack, back to the stairs... and stopped at one of the open doors.


    There were all these weapons, just lying out in the open... it would be a shame not to use <em>some </em>of them. Almost a crime, really. After grabbing some extra weapons (and more than a few spare grenades and a satchel charge), I carefully made my way down the stairs. The voices I''d heard earlier starteding into much more audible focus:


    "Y''know, that reminds me. Anyone seen Carlostely?"


    "What, didn''t you hear?"


    "What''d you mean? Hear what?"


    "He was part of that snatch an'' grab team that got hitst night." There was a pause, and I heard some shuffling and the unmistakable tter of poker chips. "The way I heard it, those Omerta fucks set us up. Practically the whole team got wiped out, and the girls got away. Jimmy was the only one left."


    "Oh, fuck those assholes!" a fist mmed down on a table. "He get a look at ''em, so we know which wiseguys to fuck up?"


    "Yeah... that''s th'' thing," one of them coughed. "He says it was just <em>one guy</em>. Or... like... a <em>creature</em>. But I saw the ce. No way one guy did all that."


    "Maybe..." another voice growled, followed by more poker chips. "But you didn''t see him. He kept talkin'' about that Courier fuck..." By now, I was right next to the door that led into the smoke-filled room, taking cover behind the frame. Even though I was still invisible.


    "Fuck sake, man! Don''t tell me you really <em>believe </em>that Courier bullshit! It ain''t one guy, don''t be stupid." Cautiously, I pulled a frag grenade out of my duster, and carefully slipped my finger into the ring, readying myself to throw it...


    "Whoever <em>he is</em> or <em>they are</em> or whatever the fuck, the Boss is <strong>not happy</strong>." I paused, and pulled my finger away from the pin without pulling it out. Yet.


    "Wait... you''ve talked to the Boss?" More poker chips ttered on the table.


    "No. No, I ain''t talked to ''im. But I heard what he said. That was supposed to be easy money. Safe. Reliable. And somebody fucked with us. He wants to know <strong>who</strong>."


    "Maybe Jimmy was right..." one of them coughed. "Maybe it really was that Courier dude..."


    "Man, shut the fuck up! I''m tellin'' you, those Courier stories are just bullshit! It was probably those backstabbing Omerta snakes, double-crossin'' us. Or maybe it''s the King, finally makin'' his move on us. Maybe it''s that Ghost Vaquero people''ve been talkin'' about, nobody knows! But it ain''t the fuckin'' Courier, that dude''s just a story!"


    "Maybe its Batman!" I shouted, loud enough for all of them to hear. In an instant, the five thugs at the table all turned to the sound of my voice, getting up and pulling out their guns. It was enough noise to mask the metal ''clink!'' as I pulled out the pin, and tossed the grenade into the room; as soon as it left my hand, it shimmered behind a rainbow miasma and left a trail of multi-colored vapor particles in the air. I didn''t see where itnded, because I''d already dove for cover and was covering my ears.


    <strong>WHHHHRRUUUUMP!</strong>


    When I looked back, the hallway was filled with a quickly expanding cloud of burning ashes and dust, and the doorframe had been reduced to splinters. I ducked my head inside, and  yep. The frag grenade had turned everyone into ground chuck. The sounds of indistinct shouting and the tromping of boots echoed from elsewhere in the apartmentplex. I blinked, and I saw the various heat signatures all around me start to converge on my position.


    I couldn''t help but smile to myself. The trap was sprung. I slipped into the shadows just as the first of the thugs emerged from the stairs and opened up with an assault rifle. The hallway was peppered with bullets, but he didn''t hit anything.


    "The fuck...?" he said aloud, lowering his rifle and slowly walking down the hallway. He walked straight past my hiding ce without noticing me, and I got a good look at him: a huge Mexican dude with a red bandanna covering his mouth... but the thing that stood out was his arm, which was absolutely <em>covered</em> in those stupid, interweaving, spiky tribal tattoos. If it was just wrapped around his bicep, that would''ve been enough to mark him as an utter douchebag anyway. But it covered his entire arm and the half of his face I could see behind the bandanna!


    I knew just how to handle this guy.


    He stopped and stared at the carnage spilling out of the exploded room, and he was so confused that he didn''t notice my invisible form sneak up behind him, carefully remove the pin, carefully ce it in one of the empty ammo pockets hanging on his belt... and then I ran as fast as I could, stomping on the ground and making as much noise as possible.


    "What the " he turned and raised his rifle at the sound in the half second he still had a torso. I dove into another room.


    <strong>BRUUMPH!</strong>


    As soon as the noise died down, I walked back into the hallway. It looked like someone had thrown a bucket of chunky red paint on the walls. The most identifiable piece of him left was his torn up and twisted legs. A wet chunk of bloody meat fell off the ceiling with a meaty Thwap!


    The old Shady Sands Shuffle! Works every time!


    "Rob!" I heard a muffled voice cry out from somewhere below. "Rob, what the fuck is goin'' on up there?!" I blinked and looked down; arge cluster of heat signatures were in the hallway right below my feet, unwilling to go up the stairs after all the noise. They must have thought safety in numbers was going to keep them free from harm.


    I pressed the button on my belt to properly see what I was doing, and started softly humming to myself as I worked. I pulled out the satchel charge, ced it on the floor right above their heads, flipped the switch to arm it, and ran for cover in one of the nearby rooms, diving behind an old sofa.


    <strong>BRRRAKOOOMM!</strong>


    The whole building shook from the explosion, and the floor briefly felt like I was standing on a trampoline. Once again, the hallway was filled with smoke, so I switched my eyes back to thermal to cut through the smoke. Even though therge group had been dispersed into swiftly cooling body parts, there were still a few human heat-silhouettes were still standing. So I pulled out That Gun with one hand, the Ranger Sequoia with the other, vaulted over the couch, and ran into the cloud of ash and smoke, down into the hole.


    "Hello boys!" I shouted, as soon as I was clear of the smoke; most of the gangbangers still standing were either dazed or clutching feverishly at their faces. I slipped into VATS and everything slowed to a crawl. Even though they were armed with rifles and carbines (and the one in back was carrying an LMG), none of them stood a chance. Five bulletster, and all five of them had been dropped with headshots.


    Silence descended all around me, and I scanned the area with my heat vision. Nothing was moving, and the only humanoid bodies were the ones slowly cooling in piles of their own blood all around me.


    "That... was satisfying," I sighed, holstering my pistols.


    "It certainly sounds like you had fun," Emily''s voice sounded in my ear. "What, did you blow up the building, or something?"


    "Not all of it," I said, switching my eyes back to normal and looking back at the hole; a piece of ckened ceiling fell down with a crash. "Give Boone the all-clear. The ce is ready for us to start looting."


    Emily responded in the affirmative, and I made my way to the front door. When I got there, it made me very d that I hadn''t decided to just charge the front door. The doors were reinforced steel, barred with a couple of metal I-beams, and I <em>probably </em>could''ve punched through it with my cybeic arm. However: the windows (covered with sliding metal tes), were fitted with machine guns and it was obvious I was looking at mounted gun emcements. Not only that, but there were plenty of other guns mounted on the walls next to the ces where the sentries would sit  among the guns was an <em>M32A1 grenadeuncher</em>!


    Man, no wonder the King was worried about taking these guys on in a stand up fight. This ce had been fortified against a prolonged head-on siege... and that had made themcent. None of them must''ve expected an enemy toe from <em>above</em>.


    I blinked, switching my eyes back to thermal. Something was scratching at the back of my mind, bothering me, but I couldn''t quite put my finger on what it was. The indistinct blobs of cooling-heat where all the dead bodies (or pieces of dead bodies) strewn all around were still where I left them, but there was something else. I looked down, and realized that there was another heat signature. It wasn''t a human  it looked like a big box. I blinked and everything became dark blue and white. The box shone like a spotlight. Was it a generator of some kind?


    I blinked, and my eyes went back to normal. I unbarred the front door, and shoved it open, so Boone would be able to get inside easily, but I went back to the stairs. I went down the stairs, and I found myself in a dingy, non-descript concrete basement. There didn''t seem to be anything of interest down here, and certainly nothing that would create such a disturbance with my heat or EM vision. About the only thing here (except for the structural support beams) was a metal door at the far end.


    I blinked, and realized that the <em>door</em> was the thing shining like a shlight. I blinked again, returning my eyes to normal and walked toward it cautiously. Something wasn''t right here, and it wasn''t until I reached for the doorknob that I figured it out.


    <strong>WUM!</strong>


    "What the fuck?" I looked down, and realized that my hand had <em>nced off</em> the air above the door. I reached for it again, and, sure enough, there was a blue shimmer of energy right in front of the door that reacted whenever my hand got close.


    The door was protected by an energy field?


    "Correct me if I''m wrong," Sue began. "But... shouldn''t force field technology be slightly beyond gang members?" I slowly nodded.


    "Just a bit, yeah..." I said, in what was surely the understatement of the century. Frankly, I was a too confused to say anything else. What was this piece of incredibly high-tech even <em>doing </em>here? I guess there''s only one way to find out: open the door. There was a keypad next to the door that must have been there to turn the field on and off, but I had a much easier solution. I pulled out the sonic, aimed, and fired.


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    The energy field sparked, and peeled away from itself in a puff of blue energy particles. I grabbed the door, and pulled it open to reveal... a vault. There were several boxes. One of them was filled with currencies of all types: caps, stacks of NCR bills, and even a whole bunch of Legion coins. Another box was filled with stealth boys. Yet another was filled with those explosive ve cors. And thest was filled with... radios?


    This only raised more questions. The amount of money, supplies, munitions, and tools here spoke of a regimental organization and some serious financial backing  like what you''d get with a private army. Not to mention the multiple references to this unseen ''Boss'' person apparently running the show... But that didn''t seem to gel with the ''chaos and mayhem'' tactics The King had told me about or the personalities of all the mooks I''d been fighting, which were much closer to gangbangers or raiders rather than an army.


    This puzzle was getting moreplex the more pieces I found, and I didn''t like it. I didn''t like it one bit.

 Chapter 140: Slowhand

    Chapter 140: Slowhand


    "So, we were right then?" Emily''s voice buzzed in my ear.


    "Seems that way," I whispered softly, keeping the binocrs pressed against my face. "This is <em>definitely</em> another Los Zorroz hideout."


    It was around mid-morning the next day, and I''d decided to do a bit of recon. I was lying t on my stomach, on top of a roof in Freeside, scanning a building three streets away through a pair of binocrs. It was another warehouse, like the other one from a few nights ago .The outside of the squat concrete building was covered in graffiti, and most of it was red, with several ''Los Zorroz'' tags in prominent disy.


    What really made it stand out  at least to me  was how well fortified it was. It was subtle, and even if it wasn''t in a mostly abandoned part of Freeside, I doubt anyone would have noticed any of the defenses at all. The windows were covered in both metal bars <em>and </em>sheets of steel riveted in ce. The front door looked like it was reinforced from the inside. And then there were the two steel hatches on either side of the big door; they had to be the same kind of gun-ports I''d seen at Los Zorroz Arms.


    "Do you see any way inside?" Emily asked, and I heard a faint tapping of keys as she talked. She must be taking notes.


    "No," I grunted, shifting my weight to get a better look. "At least... nothing easy. I can''t see any skylights or a door leading to the roof, so going in from above is out. And every other door at ground level - except the big one in front - has been bricked over. I think the only way in is to knock on the front door."


    "So it''s impossible, then?" Emily asked, and I snorted out augh involuntarily.


    "Oh, I didn''t say that. I just said it wouldn''t be easy." I kept scanning the building, and my eyes drifted back to one of the boxy metal HVAC units on the roof; it was belching out puffs of yellow smoke every few seconds.


    "Any ideas on what this ce is?" Emily asked.


    "Drugb," I replied, almost before she finished. "I''m not sure what, but they''re definitely cookin'' up <em>something </em>in there. Are there any cameras around, so you can take a look for yourself?"


    "Maybe... I think there''s a feed... from..." Emily started typing furiously for a few seconds. "Ah! Yes, there we  JESUS!" I flinched from the sound of Emily yelling in my ear.


    "What? What''s the problem?"


    "You said that''s a drugb?!" Emily''s voice cracked a little. I gave a sort of affirmative grunt. "That... that ce is <em>huge</em>! If they''re really... that might be the source of all the drugs in Freeside!"


    "Probably not all the drugs..." I muttered, knowing all too well that dangerous chems somehow found their way into every corner of the wastnd. "But a ce like that is bound to be making a lot."


    "Can you tell if there are any more of those force fields, like at the armory?" Emily asked. I hadn''t thought about it, so I blinked, and suddenly the world was awash in dark blue, intercut with criss-crossing white lines.


    "Hmm... I''m not sure. The EM vision in my cybeic eyes doesn''t give enough detail from this far away..." I blinked, and everything returned to normal. "I still don''t know what these gangbangers are doing with something high tech like that."


    "They probably stole it," Emily said simply. "I''ve seen force fields like that before. And yeah, the science in <em>designing</em> a photonic resonance barrier is absurd, but they''re easy enough to build if you have a schematic. All you need is a disassembled sma rifle and a pair of pulse mines."


    "Yeah... I dunno. Somehow, I don''t buy that," I muttered. "The first time I ever saw a force field was in the Sierra Madre vault."


    "Really?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "Vault City has been using them for years. I saw about ten, thest time I was there about five years ago. It''s not impossible that they got their hands on one."


    "Hmm..." I grunted. I still felt like something was off, but without any more information, just <em>talking</em> about it wasn''t going to solve anything, so I just decided to drop the issue. For now.


    "Alright, so... what''s the n?" Emily asked.


    "Well, since " That''s all I managed to get out before I stopped myself. I thought I heard something. Was that somebody shouting?


    "Wh-" I shushed Emily before she could say too much.


    "Heeeeelp!" A voice echoed from somewhere behind me. Immediately, I started moving in the direction of the sound, but I still kept myself low in an effort not to be seen. I clutched at my earpiece as I ran.


    "Emily, someone''s being attacked, southwest of my position! Tell me you''ve got eyes on it!"


    "Uh... hang on..." I kept heading in the direction of the sounds, not entirely certain if I was getting closer or not; it was mostly indistinct shouting and yelling. The clickety-ck sounds of Emily typing furiously buzzed in my ear. "I think I see it. It''s an alley, two streets away. There''s two  no, three. There''s... he''s on the ground! Hurry!"


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I sailed through the air, having aimed the grapnel at a building about two streets away. The sounds got louder, so I must have been going in the right direction  and the next thing I knew, I was hanging onto the side of the building, almost directly above an alley where two red-d thugs were kicking and shouting at someone curled up into a ball on the street.


    "Augh! Stop! Please st-aaaugh!" The man yelled, between pain-wracked sobs. "I already paid this month, I don''t  ouugh!" The two thugs stopped kicking him, and one of them grabbed him, shoving him against the brick wall.


    "I don''t care what you <em>think</em> you paid," the lead thug growled. "The price of protection has gone up."


    "That''s right," the other thug offered up. "You don''t pay up, we''ll set your shop on fire  with <strong>you</strong> in it. Understand?" While they were yelling, I was trying to get down there, but the release button on the grapnel gun was jammed. I was almost five stories up. And I couldn''t use my guns either  they''d be way too loud and draw way too much attention for what was still (technically) a stealth mission, and there was a chance I''d hit the guy they were attacking.


    "Please!" the man against the wall whimpered. "I''ve  augh!  I''ve got kids! Please!"


    I smacked the grapnel gun once... twice... and then, with the third hit, the wire finally gave me some ck and I started sliding down the wall.


    "You should''ve thought of that bef" He didn''t finish. I''d hit the button to disconnect the grapnel from the wall, kicked off, and tackled him from above. I heard some kind of surprised gurgle as Inded on him feet-first. He crumpled into a heap on the concrete, and I rolled off him, getting back on my feet.


    "What the " the other thug yelled by the time he realized what was going on. He reached back and swung, trying to punch me, but I was too fast. I grabbed his fist mid-swing with my cybeic hand... and <em>squeezed</em>. He dropped to his knees, and he yelled; it <em>almost </em>drowned out the sound of all the bones in his hand turning to powder. He finally shut up when I belted him in the face with a left cross, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.


    "No you don''t," I growled, letting go of him. Without pausing, I brought my fist back over my shoulder, and it smashed into something solid with a wet thud. I spun around, and the first thug had gotten on his feet only to get his nose broken by my offhand-backhand. He was staggering back, clutching at his bleeding face, and I kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying into the brick wall behind him. He copsed face-first, and didn''t get back up.


    "Are you alright?" I turned to the man they''d been beating up. He looked about middle-age, wearing torn and patched up clothing that was flecked from the blood leaking out of his face. I offered him my hand, but he didn''t take it at first. He just sat there, trembling, and wiped the blood away from his mouth. "It''s okay, man," I offered, trying to calm him down. "I''m here to help." After a few seconds more, he cautiously grabbed my hand.


    "T-thanks," he said after I helped him back onto his feet. "I thought th-they were gonna kill me. I didn''t... I didn''t anyone would..."


    "Don''t worry about it," I patted him on the shoulder. "If you need a ride, I can drive you to the Followers. They can get you patched up." He went back to staring at me, as if he thought I was nuts.


    "A... are you for real?" I nodded. "Wow... that..."


    "Like I said, don''t worry about it." While he stood there dumbfounded, I turned my attention back to the two motionless thugs, lying facedown on the pavement. An idea formed in my head, and I reached into one of my pockets. "Hold on a minute." I knelt down and grabbed one of the unconscious thugs by the boot.


    "Wh-what are you doing?" He asked.


    "Nothing you need to worry about," I replied as vaguely as I thought I could get away with. I took one of the sharp tracking devices, and shoved it deep into the thug''s boot-heel. I did the same with the other one, and turned back to my new friend. "Alright, c''mon. Let''s get you out of here."


    Ding.


    As soon as I walked out of the elevator and into the suite, I heard the sounds of music. It sounded like Veronica had hooked up her record yer to the jukebox in themon room.


    <em>If you wanna hang out,</em>


    <em>You''ve gotta take her out,</em>


    <em>Cocaine.</em>


    <em>If you wanna get down,</em>


    <em>Down on the ground,</em>


    <em>Cocaine.</em>


    <em>She don''t lie, she don''t lie, she don''t liiiiiie,</em>


    <em>Cocaine.</em>


    "Hey, V! You got a sec?" I asked, sticking my head in themon room. Sure enough, she was sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. In her hands was a book that she seemed thoroughly engrossed in reading.


    "Hm? What''s up?" she asked, not even bothering to look up. I grabbed the back of one of the adjacent easy chairs, and flopped down into it, leaning over to try and get a better look at the cover.


    "What''re you readin''?" I asked. Veronica lifted up the cover, but kept her nose in the book.


    "<em>Ulysses</em> by James Joyce," she said, the faintest hint of a smirk creeping into the side of her mouth. "Arcade started reading it after you got that transmission, and let me borrow it when he finished."


    "You know, the Ulysses I fought in the Divide named himself after the Civil War general. I told you that, right?" Veronica shrugged.


    "Yeah, well, Leopold Bloom isn''t really the Ulysses from myth, either. I don''t know where Arcade keeps finding all these books, but his room is starting to look like a library."


    "I wonder if he has <em>Alice in Wondend</em>. I haven''t read that in years." I mused aloud, and then chuckled to myself. "Maybe we should talk to him about starting a book club." Veronica started giggling.


    "Knowing Arcade, he''d pick Marcel Proust''s <em> recherch du temps perdu </em>as our first book, and reading that would take up <strong>all </strong>of our time for the next month," she said. "I mean, it''s a good read, but seven volumes? That''s way too long." I shook my head.


    "Yeah, that''s no good. Who''d want to read something that long? There''s too much stuff to do. In fact, that''s actually why I''m here  I need your help with a little project I''m working on."


    "Oh yeah?" Veronica looked up for the first time, raising an eyebrow. "What do you need?"


    "If you can tear yourself away from your book for, say, two hours? I''ll show you. I''ve got all the tools and supplies we need for the project in the car park  down in that nest Stripe''s made for himself."


    Veronica looked confused for several seconds. But apparently, that did the trick because she set her book down and got up.


    "Damn... this ce looks..." Veronica trailed off as the two of us descended down the ramp into Stripe''s hidey-hole in the underground car park.


    "Yeah, he''s certainly done a number on this little nook." I shrugged, calm as you please. Stripe had clearly done even more work turning this level of the car park into his idea habitat. The heat, the soft ground covered in damp moss and decaying animal parts, the dim lights... about the only thing that hadn''t been touched was the parked deuce and a half plete with a clear track leading from the truck to the exit ramp.


    "Hey, Stripe!" I called out. "You down here?"


    A growl echoed out of the darkness, and Stripe suddenly materialized from behind the truck. His eyes shone like pinpricks until he shuffled into the light, the ground shaking with a heavy thud from every footfall. He was cradling Sasha in his left paw, and Roxie was perched on the deathw''s shoulder, half-in and half-out of the furry white mohawk.


    "Oh, <strong>wow</strong>." Veronica took a step back, her eyes going wide. "I... I know you said he''d gotten <em>bigger</em>, but I... just... <em>wow</em>." Stripe regarded Veronica carefully, sniffing the air around her.


    "Greetings, Sheason!" Sasha barked happily. "Are we ready to get started?"


    "I think so," I said, nodding at the minigun. "All the tools and supplies are still where I left them, right?"


    ", they are still in back of ," Sasha said. While we were talking, Stripe was continuing to sniff the air around Veronica. He hadn''t licked her, though. Which was probably a good thing, I don''t think she would react at all well to that.


    "You know, you still haven''t told me what we''re doing," Veronica inched her way over to me, away from the deathw. I held back augh when I saw Stripe and Roxie <em>both</em> sniffing the air, almost in sync.


    "Sasha and Stripe came up with a design that''ll allow the two of them to work together, and now we''re gonna build it. The job is way too big for me to do all on my own, mostly because Stripe here," I patted the deathw on his scaly shoulder, "is entirely too broad for me to get my arms around. And this kind of job requires the kind of technical know-how and mechanical aptitude that only you posses."


    I couldn''t tell in such dim light, but it <em>almost </em>looked like Veronica was ttered by thepliment.


    "X!" Sasha eximed. "We will surely be credit to BLU team!" Veronica blinked.


    "Wait, what? Blue team?" Veronica looked over at me questioningly. "What''s he talking about?" I shrugged.


    "Oh, it''s something he picked up from his old owner in Russia. Something about a couple of mercenary units, called RED and BLU, I''m honestly not really sure about the details. Oh! That reminds me!" I turned on my heel and rushed to the back of the deuce, rifling around in the collection of tools and parts. As I busied myself, I heard Stripe speak up.


    "<strong>I smell paper on you...</strong>" he growled, apparently talking to Veronica. "<strong>Ink. Leather.</strong>" He snorted loudly. "<strong>Books. I smell books. Many books. You... Do you read books? Yes?</strong>"


    "Uhhm..." Veronica gulped loudly. "Y-yeah? Yeah, I... I read. Why?"


    "<strong>Do you think I could borrow some books?</strong>" Stripe asked; it was almostical how soft he was speaking, considering his normal booming, guttural growls. "<strong>I like to read. But I have read no books since Higgs.</strong>"


    "Really? Uh... sure. Sure thing, that''s... that''s no problem," Veronica chuckled nervously.


    "I think maybe we''ll get that book club after all," I said, finally pulling myself away from the deuce, with my Riot Gear helmet in my hand. "Check this out, this is awesome! You''re gonna love this." Veronica, Stripe, and Roxie all turned their attention to me, and the helmet I was cradling in my hands.


    "What? What''s the big deal?"


    "So, I was talking to Sasha earlier about Los Zorroz, and how they all wear red, right? And because my Corvega is blue, he suggested that we be BLU team  and that''s when I discovered <em>this </em>about my helmet!" I fiddled with a tiny, nondescript dial on the side, and the red lenses shifted colors several times  first changing from red to orange, then yellow, then green, and finally settling on blue. "Look at that! Isn''t that awesome?"


    Veronica stared nkly at me for several seconds. So did Stripe. So did Roxie. Veronica looked over at Stripe, who looked over at her  and then he shrugged his scaly shoulders with a grunt. Only Sasha broke the silence, barking out an enthusiastic "You are credit to team!" Veronica shook her head and looked back at me.


    "You are such a dork."


    A little over two and a half hourster, Veronica and I had finished.


    "Alright," I said, fastening thest strap in ce. "I think that''ll about do it." I reached for a nearby rag and started wiping off all the grease. Stripe snorted, and his whole body shimmied and shook as Veronica and I both stepped back to admire our handiwork.


    "I can''t believe I let you talk me into helping with this," she said, taking the rag when I offered it to her.


    "Well, you have to admit  the whole getup is pretty impressive."


    That was an understatement. A deathw all on its own is scary enough, but we had done the impossible and made Stripe <em>even more</em> terrifying. The most noticeable feature from the front was a series of leather straps and harnesses that wrapped around Stripe''s torso, holding a metal backpack in ce. The metal backpack was divided into two halves: on the left side was an armored metal box. This housed manyplex electronics  such as sensors, radar, air sniffers, the whole shebang  all wired up into Sasha''s brain, which was buried snug and secure deep in the bowels of the armor. On the right was another armored box, but this didn''t have sophisticated sensors: it just had lots and lots of <em>bullets</em>. It held just shy of 2000 rounds, in fact. An articted mechanical arm stuck out of the center of the backpack, connecting the two sides. The minigun which used to be the main feature of the K-9000 cyberdog gun was fitted to the end of that arm, sticking high up above Stripe''s head, and connected to the ammo box by a flexible ammo belt.


    "How''re you doing, Sasha?" I asked. "Can you hear me?"


    "Oh, absolutely!" I heard the cyberdog reply, his voice carrying a much heavier audio nge than I''d ever heard from him before. As he spoke, the mechanical arm moved, and the minigun pointed directly at me, shining aser, and the two metal ps on either side of the barrel perked up. Veronica backed up, but I stayed put; the primary cameras for Sasha were on the minigun itself, so he <em>had </em>to point it at whatever he was looking at. "This is <strong>fantastic</strong>! I have never been able to move the weapon on my own before! Thest time I felt this alive, I still had fur!" The minigun swung around, and the arm whined with mechanical servos with every movement.


    "What about you, Stripe?" I stepped forward, cautiously cing a hand on one of the his scaly, muscled arms. "You doing alright?" Stripe snorted, bringing up the back of his right paw to rub against the leather straps.


    "<strong>This harness is itchy...</strong>" Stripe growled, and I fought back augh, remembering how Lily said the exact same thing.


    "I''ll see if I can get you some lotion," I said, trying my damndest to keep a straight face. "Either that or some olive oil. Isn''t that the trick to get leather to stop chafing?" I asked, turning to Veronica. She shook her head and shrugged, obviously having no idea either. Stripe snorted.


    "<strong>I think I can manage, Courier,</strong>" Stripe nodded his head and let out a deep, pulsating chuckle. I stepped back again, only to bump into a heavy lump of fur and metal. I looked down, and saw Roxie looking up at me with a very stern expression. Well... stern for a <em>dog</em>, anyway. She was looking up at me, growling from the back of her throat, and scowling.


    "Rox?" I asked, kneeling down and scratching her behind the ears. "You alright?" Her expression didn''t change, but I did notice her tail start to wag as I petted her.


    "I believe she is annoyed, Sheason," Sasha said, amidst a whirring of servos. "We have made her perch on Stripe''s back very crowded."


    I thought back to Sasha''s admission of puppy love, all the way back in the Big MT crater, and silently wondered if perhaps Sasha had an ulterior motive for the cement of this minigun harness...


    "So, are we ready to go?" Veronica asked several hourster, while she leaned against her trusty super sledge like a cane.


    "In a minute," I said, staring down at the clock on my Pip Boy as the two of us stood just outside the elevator in the garage. Because I didn''t know exactly how much or what kind of opposition I''d be facing in that drugb  other than ''a lot'' considering the fortifications I''d seen  I decided to just go in guns zing. But I also had a secondary objective.


    "Why?" she asked. "What are we waiting for?"


    Ding.


    "Alright!" Cass stepped out of the elevator wearing her riot gear and her AA-12 in hand. "Let''s get this shit sta-" She cut herself off and went very quiet when she realized Veronica was here. "Uh... hi."


    "Cass," Veronica nodded curtly.


    "And there we go," I said with a nod. "Guys, I feel a wedge has been driven between the three of us. Every time we''re all in the same room together, the awkwardness is palpable, and so thick you could cut it with a knife."


    "There are reasons for that," Veronica said, with a face made of stone.


    "Exactly," I nodded. "And I think we should clear the air with a bonding exercise."


    "A... <em>bonding</em> exercise?" Cass raised an eyebrow. "Have you been readin'' Arcade''s psychology books again?"


    "What did you have in mind?" Veronica asked.


    "A hunting expedition," I said with a broad smile. "I was thinking that the three of us  and my secret weapon  could all take on that Los Zorroz drugb. With all of us together, it should be a nice, rxing walk in the park. With explosions."


    "Well, I''ve already brought my shotgun," Cass said, resting her AA-12 on her shoulder. "I''ll dly join y''around this barrel t''shoot some motherfuckin'' fish."


    "Alright, sure," Veronica shrugged, and hefted up her super sledge. "Sounds like fun. Although, I do wonder what this says about the three of us."


    "Probably best not to think about it too hard," I said, slipping my helmet on and fastening it in ce.


    "Oh, dude!" Cassughed. "I didn''t know you could change th'' color on those lenses! That''s awesome!"


    "I told you!" I pointed at Veronica, who just shook her head and sighed.


    "I''m surrounded by dorks."


    "So, that''s the ce, huh?" Cass asked. We were all standing next to the parked deuce and a half, in an alley directly opposite the entrance to the drugb.


    "Yup," I nodded. "Y''all ready?"


    "Oh yeah," Cass nodded, pulling the charging handle on her AA-12.


    "Let''s go," Veronica gripped her super sledge tightly. Towering behind the two of them was Stripe, who snorted in the affirmative and nodded.


    "Yesssss!" Sasha growled, the minigun maneuvering in position with a whirr. "I am ready to kill cowards!"


    "Then let''s get started," I said, hefting Elijah''s jury-rigged Te cannon onto my shoulder. I nted my feet, and flipped open the trigger guard; suddenly, the interior of the weapon was awash with crackling electricity. I took aim, pulled the trigger over and over again, and the thunderous booms echoed off the alley walls as giant clouds of dirt and dust were kicked into the air. Five beams of blue-white energynced through the air and plowed into the reinforced front door, ripping it apart with gouts of explosive energy.


    "<strong>YAAAAAARGHHH!</strong>" Sasha yelled, as Stripe reared back and drew himself up to his terrifyingly intimidating height. Cass, Veronica and I all stepped back, practically welding ourselves to the wall to get out of his way. "<strong>NOW IS COWARD KILLING TIME!</strong>"


    Stripe threw his head back and roared at the sky, bellowing with such volume that I thought he was going to make the <em>buildings</em> copse in terror. In a single motion, he leapt out of the alley with a speed and agility that really shouldn''t be possible for something with that much bulk, and must have cleared about twenty or thirty feet. The pavement buckled and cracked when hended, and he disappeared into the fire and smoke that used to be the front door.


    "Damn," Cass said with a whistle. "I thought I was kiddin'' with that fish in a barrel joke."


    "C''mon," I said, tossing the spent te cannon aside and charging headlong into the smoldering wreckage of the front door. When the three of us emerged through the curtain of smoke, we were met with a scene of carnage and utter devastation. All around, I heard the sounds of shouting, screaming, the roars of Stripe, and guns of all manner of caliber firing in every direction. I couldn''t tell if all the dead gangbangers littering the warehouse at our feet were red because of their clothing, or if it was because Stripe had punched all of their blood out of their bodies.


    On the plus side, it was a nice feeling, knowing that I waspletely right about what this ce was. All the dead gangbangers were definitely Los Zorroz  when I looked up, I realized the entire ceiling was covered in a strangely borate tag of their logo. Plus, all the dead bodies were surrounded by rows and rows of chemicals and chemistry equipment, a floor littered with Jet inhalers and broken syringes, and bags of cocaine.


    "Alright, spread out," I said, pulling out That Gun and the Ranger Sequoia. "There''s bound to more of "


    "There they are!" Someone shouted from above us. "Get em!"


    The next few minutes were hriously chaotic, and (somehow) exceptionally well executed. The three of us dove for cover out of the way of the iing fire, and immediately fought back. Even though the gangbangers were attacking us from above on top of a pair of metal cargo containers and a few catwalks, they didn''t reallyst all that long.


    Most gratifying was the fact that Cass and Veronica still seemed to be working well as a team, despite everything that had happened between them. I barely managed to get in any kills at all before the unstoppable duo started wrecking shit left and right. Veronica smashed Oh, Baby! into the side of the container, sending it flying and throwing all the gangbangers to the ground... right into the path of Cass'' shotgun. Or, as it should be called, The Chunky Red Salsa Machine.


    "On the right!" I yelled, spotting a group of iing mooks running at us and firing my pistols. Of course, it didn''t take me long to realize that they weren''t running <em>at </em>us, but running <em>from </em>Stripe and Sasha. The massive deathw smashed through a wall, roaring and shing at some of the stragglers, turning them into bloody ribbons. Meanwhile, the minigun was cutting them down with gusto (and a surprising amount of uracy).


    "<strong>VZZZZZZT! RAHRAHRAHRAH! VRRRRR! WAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!</strong>" Sasha yelled andughed, somehow louder than both the firing minigun and Stripe carving the thugs into a bloody and fashionable set of furniture. "<strong>YOU CAN RUN, COWARDS! BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE! DOH-HO-HO-HAHAHAHAAAAAA!</strong>"


    "Holy fuck!" Veronica yelled, getting out of the way just in time. Thest of the thugs was ttened into a pancake under one of Stripe''s massive wed hands, sending blood and body parts flying. I had to duck as a bloody foot sailed past my head. The minigun spun down, and sheets of steam curled into the air off the barrels. Stripe roared in triumph, shaking the entire building.


    "G''damn, man!" Cass said with augh. "Take it down a notch!"


    "Do you think... maybe this was a bit overkill?" Veronica asked, gingerly stepping around the rapidly expanding pool of blood pouring out from beneath Stripe''s paw.


    "Nah," I said with a smirk. "I''d say this was just enough kill."


    "Ahhh, yes!" Sashaughed. "I am amused by entire eety-beety-teeny baby team! The burning you feel? It is <em><strong>SHAME! </strong></em>HA-HA!"

 Chapter 141: Jury-Rigged

    Chapter 141: Jury-Rigged


    I strode calmly and confidently through the wreckage of the drugb. The floor was covered in a carpet of spilled chemicals  both liquids and powders  mixing asionally with the many pools of Los Zorroz blood. Every few steps or so, a discarded syringe or Jet inhaler would crack with a pop of breaking ss under my boots. While I searched for my target, Cass, Veronica, Stripe and Sasha got to the business of engaging in some postbat small talk.


    "Oh, man," Veronica muttered from somewhere behind me. "You really have done a number on this ce." Stripe let out a heavy snort in response.


    "Y''know, I''m kinda surprised he ain''t eatin'' any''ve these guys," Cass said.


    "Stripe would not eat these baby-men," Sasha barked; Veronica sighed.


    "Well, that''s a re-"


    "No, since leaving the Big Empty  and <strong>especially</strong> since having more options for food that are not Lobotomites  he has expressed distaste in the texture of human flesh." Sasha rified.


    "<strong>Human is too stringy...</strong>" Stripe growled after snorting again. "<strong>Not enough meat, and too chewy.</strong>"


    A heavy silence hung in the air.


    "Oh..." Veronica finally squeaked out. "Well. That... that''s..."


    "So, if ya don''t like th'' taste''ve people, what <strong>do</strong> y''like t''eat?" Cass asked; if she was as horrified as Veronica seemed to be, she was hiding it well.


    "<strong>Bighorner. Brahmin. Lots of juicy, tender meat. Not much of a challenge...</strong>" Stripe snorted again. "<strong>But tasty.</strong>" He startedughing that deep, guttural, almost coughingugh of his, and even <em>I </em>found it a bit unsettling.


    "Please tell me you''re doing something less disturbing over here," Veronica said as she suddenly appeared next to me. "Actually, what <em>are</em> you doing?"


    I turned to look at her, and was treated to an unexpected lightshow. I couldn''t remember if I''d ever seen anyone with my EM vision this close before, but it certainly was different. Dim, flickering lights in the vague shape of a person  with brighter lights around the brain and eyes  all dancing around in front of me as I picked up Veronica''s firing neurons; the semi-powered armor under her robe shone like a spotlight, nearly blinding me from this close up.


    "Hello-o-o-o!" Veronica snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Sheason. Still in there?"


    "Oh... yeah. Sorry, left the EM vision on," I said, turning back to the wall. "I just think I found another vault protected by a force field." I blinked, and my vision returned to normal. I''d been staring at a nk, vaguely nondescript wall with only a mild case of graffiti.


    "Wait, what''s goin'' on?" Cass asked, walking over to me. Stripe followed, shaking the ground with every step.


    "Sheason''s found another one of those force field vaults, like he told us about," Veronica exined.


    "Oh, sweet. So, that''s, like, a false wall or somethin'' right? You gonna look for a secret lever to open it or "


    Before Cass could finish, I shoved my fist through the wall with a crunch of ster and wood, burying the cybeic limb up to my shoulder. I found a good hand-hold, and pulled down the flimsy partition, sending splinters flying everywhere. The wall crumbled like it was made of paper.


    "  or I guess you could just do that, sure."


    "Yep, that''s our Sheason," Veronica shook her head andughed. "When presented with a puzzle, he''ll brute force a solution. By wrecking it."


    "I prefer to think of it as the pragmatic approach," I smiled back at them, shaking splinters off my fist. And then I realized: I was still wearing my helmet. Smiling waspletely pointless. "Besides, I learned it from you." Veronica nodded with a shrug.


    "Fair enough, you''ve got me there."


    I turned back to the open hallway behind the fake wall and  sure enough  there was a door protected by a faintly shimmering blue energy field. I tapped the side of my helmet.


    "Hey, Emily? You readin'' me?" I asked. "Is the pictureing in alright?"


    "Yes indeed!" Emily''s cheery voice buzzed in my ear. "Looks like that camera you installed is working better than I thought it would."


    "So? What''s the verdict?" I said, walking over to the force field and pulling out the Sonic Emitter. "Does it look like those force fields you saw up in Vault City?"


    "A little... do you think you could move closer? Maybe pan to the right a bit?" I was a bit put off by the instruction, but moved my head to the right all the same. "Yeah, that''s what I thought. See that exposed wiring, and the splices next to the maic stabilizer? That looks like a hatchet job, built by a gori. They must have stolen the ns from <em>somebody</em>."


    "Good to know," I nodded, shooting the force field with the Sonic. It shimmered and fizzled away with a pop. "Make sure you save this recording, I want to take a look at itter."


    "Got it, boss," Emily said happily. I turned back to Cass, Veronica, and Stripe, all standing just outside the ruined wall and looking at me curiously.


    "I''ll start collecting everything here. If it''s like thest one, there''s gonna be piles of cash just <em>waiting</em> for us to take it. While I''m busy here, start setting the explosives."


    "Explosives?!" Veronica''s eyes went wide. "Wait, <em>what</em>?" Cass just smiled and started chuckling.


    "Got everything?" Cass asked when I finally made my way back to the deuce. I nodded, adjusting the strap on the duffel bag hanging off my shoulder.


    "Yep. And it''s not just cash, either. I got more of those radios, but I don''t think they''re tuned to any specific frequency."


    "So, just like thest bunch of radios then." Veronica said. "Fairly useless for the job of spying on these guys."


    "Yeah, pretty much," I tossed the duffel bag in the back of the deuce. "But, I <em>did </em>find some maps and a few holotapes. That might just give us the intel we need to see at who''s turning these wheels."


    "Then lets make a statement," Cass tossed me the detonator with a smile. I stood there for half a second, my back to the warehouse across the street, and immediately regretted the fact that I didn''t currently have any sunsses that I could put on.


    Beep.


    The ground shook under my feet, and a shock front of heat and wind buffeted my back, threatening to knock me over. The sounds of windows shattering one after another in a rising crescendo of broken ss was swiftly drowned out by the mortar and brick walls crumbling and being consumed by the fire and smoke of the exploding C4 that had been attached to all the support columns. Cass and Veronica both ducked, and brought their arms up to cover their faces, but Stripe reared back and roared, while Sasha startedughing raucously.


    "<strong>MWAH-HA-HA-HAAA!</strong>" Sasha bellowed. "<strong>MORE RUBBLE, LESS TROUBLE!</strong>"


    I was sitting at the dining room table the next morning, tinkering away at mytest project, when I suddenly heard a very tiny wheel squeaking below me. I looked up from my work and off to my left just in time to see a pair of tiny metal ws  attached to tiny little noodly metal arms tch onto the edge, followed swiftly by Muggy pulling himself up and onto the table.


    "Hello!" He said, rolling on the table over to me. "How''s your coffee? Almost done? Can I have your mug?"


    "Oh... uh, sure, I think," I nodded, setting down my screwdriver and grabbing my coffee. I knocked the rest of it back in one go, and all I got were thest mildly warm dregs. I did my best to fight back a grimace and a cough, handing Muggy the empty coffee cup; he took it carefully, cradling it in his tiny metal arms.


    "Thanks," he said calmly.


    "I can''t help but notice," I picked up the screwdriver again and went back to my work. "You seem a bit less twitchy and neurotictely. Are you feeling alright?"


    "I am?" Muggy paused, looking up at me confused. "I... I suppose I am. I think the amount of coffee you guys drink has helped. I spent the better part of 200 years with nothing to do. No... no purpose." His chassis twitched. "I mean... all I ever wanted is to help with one simple thing: cleaning coffee mugs. Brains in jars don''t drink a lot of coffee. But since leaving The Sink, I''ve had plenty of coffee mugs! You guys suck down coffee like its water!" He paused, his metal w-hands tapping against the side of the ceramic with tinny little ''tink-tink!'' sounds. "Plus... you know. That April, she... she''s... she''s nice." He let out a soft, nervous chuckle.


    Hoo boy. I could see where this was going.


    "She called you adorable when she first saw you, didn''t she?" I said, holding back a smirk. He wobbled unsteadily on his wheel, gripping the mug tightly.


    "Yes. Yes she did. I should... yeah, I should go, thanks for the mug," he said quickly, hopping off the table and rolling away. I just shook my head and chuckled to myself, continuing to tinker. At this point, I wasn''t even going to question it.


    "Hey, Sheason?" Cass'' voice echoed from somewhere out in the hall a few minutes after Muggy left. "Shea? Where are ya? Arcade, Veronica''n I wanna talk to ya ''bout somethin''." Before I could respond, Cass stuck her head in the kitchen door and made a beeline for the fridge. "Oh, there y''are." She grabbed a trio of Nuka C out of the fridge, tossing one each to Veronica and Arcade, respectively, as they appeared. As soon as he walked through the door, Arcade sniffed the air.


    "I smell burning metal," he said, pulling a bottle opener out of hisbcoat. "Have you been soldering in here?"


    "I have, actually," I said, still tinkering with the gun in my hands. "What''s up?"


    "Oh, I was just wonderin'' if they''d told y''about that book... club..." She trailed off when she finally noticed that the kitchen table was entirely covered in tools, spare parts, electronics, and disassembled energy weapons. To say nothing of the vice I''d attached to the side of the table. "What th'' fuck are you workin'' on?"


    "New gun," I said simply. "Or, to be specific: a couple guns all Frankenstein''d together into a single frame."


    "Do I wanna know why?" she asked, cracking open the bottle in her hands on the edge of the counter.


    "I got to thinking, and I''m carrying way too much crap most days. It''s probably a good idea to slim down on the amount of weapons and ammo I need to carry at any given time. So, I decided to take multiple energy weapons and mount them all in a single frame."


    "Is... is that  DID YOU DISASSEMBLE THE PULSE GUN?!" Veronica shouted, grabbing at one of the more recognizable pieces on the table  the empty frame that used to be the tube of the Pulse Gun. "What the hell! Why would you wreck something that we spent so much time and effort just to FIND?!" I''d anticipated that response, and reached down into the metal box near my feet.


    "I didn''t," I said, pulling out a perfectly intact and undamaged Pulse Gun and handing it to a perplexed and bewildered Veronica. "At least, I didn''t wreck the original. I had Jeeves scan all the weapons I needed for this behemoth, and asked him to make exact duplicates that I could cannibalize for parts." I snapped thest piece in ce, and held aloft therge rifle so everyone could get a good look at it. "Well? What do you think?"


    "I''m surprised at how big it is," Veronica said, rallying quickly once she realized I hadn''t beenpletely careless. "I thought if you were gonna make yourself a new gun, you''d make something pistol sized, like your eight-billion other pistols," Veronica snarked, trying to rile me up. I shrugged.


    "I thought about it, but I couldn''t fit everything I wanted into that small a frame." Veronica looked taken aback by my response.


    "I... I was <em>kidding</em>. You seriously tried to make <strong>another</strong> pistol?" I nodded, and she just shook her head.


    "It looks like a mess," Arcade offered bluntly, leaning against the wall with his soda. "What all do you have in there?"


    "Five energy weapons, plus a bit extra," I said, checking the reflex sight. "The whole thing is basedrgely around the frame of the advanced LAER I found in the Big Empty, and altering it where needed with Holorifle tech. I also managed to wire in both the Pulse Gun and the Sonic Emitter into the system. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be, since it turns out they were surprisingly simr. I have a sneaking suspicion that the Pulse Gun was developed by the Big Empty scientists before it turned into Project CIRCUITBREAKER for the Army."


    "So, what''s th'' fifth gun?" Cass asked, setting down her soda and leaning against the table edge to get a better look.


    "That''s the most genius part about this," I smiled broadly, turning the gun over in my hands so I could show them the underside. "My original n was to use something like a recharger rifle or something to power it and cut down on ammo, but Jeeves had a copy of a Microfusion Hyperbreeder Alpha in his files. I couldn''t very well pass something like <em>that </em>up, so I had him replicate one and I wired the power supply into the thing instead. I''ll never have to reload this thing."


    "Well, if that''s the case, why do you have four microfusion cells in there?" Arcade said after clearing his throat, pointing at the cluster of cells in a square shape near the trigger.


    "Those don''t actually provide power," I said. "They just function as capacitors for the MF breeders, so the whole thing can hold bigger charges for longer." I flipped the rifle around again and grabbed hold of both grips. "I also added a few parts that I picked up from the Gun Runners this morning: a marksman stock, pistol grip, fore grip, a couple picatinny rails, and a reflex sight. I even figured out how to wire up a fire selector so that it can switch between holorifle-shotgun cubes, blue LAER beam, pulse gun st, or sonic emitter st."


    "Well, that exins the oscilloscope on the side," Veronica said, crossing her arms over her chest. "The big question is does it <em>work</em>?"


    "Well... yeah?" I said, suddenly unsure of myself. "Why wouldn''t it work?"


    "You''re the one always going on about how you''re not suited to electrical engineering," Arcade offered up. "And putting all those guns together like that seems a bitplicated." I shrugged.


    "No moreplicated than building a teleporter that rips up the very fabric of space and time," I said. Arcade opened his mouth to offer up a counter-point, but his mouth worked uselessly for several seconds with no sounding out.


    "Fair point," he said finally.


    "What''re you gonna call it?" Cass asked, leaning forward on her elbows and resting her chin against her hands. "A gun like that needs a name."


    "I hadn''t really thought about it." I admitted.


    "Maybe you should just call it what it is," Veronica said. "You know,bine all the names into one word." She tapped her chin several times. "Like... I dunno. The Holo-LAER-Sonic-Pulsar?"


    "I think that would only work if we were speaking German," Arcade said, trying and failing to hold back a snicker.


    "It <em>is</em> a bit of a mouthful," Cass nodded. "Hey, mind if I take a look?"


    "Sure, go ahead." I ced the rifle in her outstretched hands, and the moment I let go, it hit the table  with her hands still desperately holding on, trying to pull it back up.


    "Holy fuck!" Cass half yelled, halfughed. "Cryin'' out loud, man! This thing weighs a ton!" With some considerable effort, she strained to lift it up with both hands. "On the plus side, I''ve got the name for it: The Dead Weight!"


    "And yet," I said, grabbing the rifle by the side with my cybeic hand, and lifting it out of her grip with ease. One of her eyes twitched. "It''s still lighter than all the weapons and ammo it''s recing."


    "Bullshit," Cass shook her head. "I don''t believe you."


    "How much ammo do you usually <em>carry</em>?" Veronica asked. I shrugged.


    "Depends on what I''m bringing with me that day, but... generally sixty pounds worth of ammo, explosives, and firearms? Maybe more? It all depends. This''ll cut down on that immensely."


    Silence filled the air for an ufortable minute.


    "You''re insane," Veronica said with a sigh. While all this had been going on, Arcade had been staring intently at the gun before snapping his fingers.


    "How about we call it the Jury-Rigger?" Arcade said. All three of us turned to look at him. "Well, think about it. It looks like it''s held together with duct tape. Almost. And seriously bining all those guns into one is the very definition of a hack job, the kind of thing you jury rig together. Combining a holorifle with an electroser? How does it work? No one knows..." Arcade pointed at me. "Except him."


    "The Jury-Rigger..." I repeated, trying out the sound of the name as I hefted up the rifle. "Yeah... yeah, I like it."


    "You certainly look ready for a party. Are you leaving?" Emily asked a bitter as I walked past her in the Penthouse. I nodded.


    "Yeah, I want to test this thing out," I said, gesturing with my helmeted head to the rifle resting against my shoulder. "So I''m gonna head somece where I can cause as much chaos and destruction as I want, and no one will give a damn."


    "Oh?" Emily raised an eyebrow and smiled up at me. "And where''s that?"


    "The Big Empty. There''s plenty there I can use as target practice, and the Think Tank won''t care. They barely know what''s going on inside their own dome. Besides, I need to make sure that the force-field-fizzler of the Sonic still works, and I can only do that with a ce where I know there''ll be some force fields."


    "You could always hit another Los Zorroz hideout," Emily offered. I shrugged.


    "I suppose I could, but I''d rather make sure everything I''m using works first before going into any seriousbat in Freeside. Besides..." I looked out the window, at how bright everything was. "It won''t be night for at <em>least </em>a couple hours."


    "Well... just..." Emily fiddled nervously with some of her hair, brushing it behind her ear. "Be careful, alright? I remember those stories you told us about the goings on in that crater, and everything sounded incredibly dangerous."


    "You really are worried about this, aren''t you?" I asked. Emily scrunched up her face.


    "Well, to be fair, the Big Empty <em>is</em> where your arm got cut off."


    "I got a new one!" I offered up weakly, and Emily rolled her eyes.


    "Don''t worry!" Sue said unexpectedly, causing Emily to jump slightly in surprise. "I can keep him hidden and safe. No one will be as unseen as us!"


    "There, y''see?" I nodded, making my way to the teleport pad. "Nothing to worry about."


    "Do you think you could keep that sat-phone link open, just in case?" Emily said as I punched in the coordinates. "Maybe even that camera as well. It won''t hurt to have another set of eyes, just in case."


    "Fair enough," I nodded, conceding the point. I stepped on the pad, and it began to hum and spin with ribbons of light. "But it''s like I said, you don''t have to worry. It''s me!" Emily red at me with a raised eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest.


    "That''s <strong>why</strong> I''m worried," she said the instant before the world disappeared.


    The world came into focus, and I stepped off the teleport pad in The Sink.


    "Wee home, sir," Jeeves greeted me, bathing me in the flickering blue lights of his holographic audio visualization bars. "What can I do for sir today?"


    "I''m looking for a ce in the crater where I can test this out," I said, lifting up the energy rifle for him to see. The bars rapidly flickered through several colors before settling back on blue.


    "I was wondering why sir requested me to replicate those energy weapons earlier," he said tly. "Does it work?"


    "That''s what I intend to find out. Do you know of any ces in the crater with a lot of force fields? Maybe some violent, malfunctioning robots I can fry?"


    "One moment, sir," Jeeves replied. The holographic bars vanished, and a 3D representation of the Big Empty crater appeared in its ce. Lines of light shed back and forth across the map, scanning the image several times. "I think I may have found a suitable location for sir''s purposes: the Z-43 Innovative Toxins nt."


    "Sounds promising," I replied, my voice thick with sarcasm. "Where is it?" The map flickered again, and a red arrow appeared, pointing down.


    "It appears to be on the southern edge of the Hexcrete Archipgo, sir. At least... for the moment."


    "Is it one of thosebs that gets up and walks around?" I asked, remembering all too well the giant bs of hexagonal concrete pirs flying through the air.


    "That, I cannot say with certainty, sir." Jeeves admitted. "But if the archival records I am looking at are correct, sir, then sir will find a multitude of robots, force fields, and obstacles within the bowels of the facility. It should prove a peerless proving ground to practice with the prototype on sirs'' person."


    "Perfect," I said with a smile.


    "Oh boy..." I sighed, stopping just outside the front door of the Z-43 building. "This is gonna be a loooooong day, isn''t it?"


    The squat, square, rtively indistinct brick building was sitting within spitting distance of the hexcrete towers, and severalrge pipes were attached to the side. What really caught my attention, however, was the graffiti painted on the front door that I hadn''t seen since the Divide: one of Ulysses'' g markers. A <em>red </em>one.


    That was never a good sign.


    "Wait, <em>this</em> is where we''re going?" Sue squeaked as I pushed open the front door, and made my way inside the darkened building.


    "Yeah? Why, what''s the problem?" I switched on my nightvision, but it didn''t really help. There didn''t appear to be anything here except rusty copper pipes, and dirty walls...


    "Oh, I''ve just heard stories about this ce... bad stories." Sue let out a nervous squeak. "They say that the old caretaker of this ce went mad. Absolutely stir-fry crazy. She chopped up her entire staff..."


    "Shit, really?" I asked, just a little bit too soon.


    "... of robots." Sue rified.


    "Oh," I shook my head, trying not tough. Sue continued.


    "They say at night you can still hear the screams... of their replicas. All of them functionally indistinguishable to the originals. No memory of the incident. Nobody has any idea why they''re screaming. Absolutely terrifying..." Sue paused. "Though... you know. Not... paranormal. In any meaningful way."


    "So, is that it?" I asked after a pause.


    "Hey, that''s a scary story for a personality construct!" Sue said indignantly, apparently picking up on how unimpressed I was. "Can you imagine if I was screaming all the time and I had no idea what was going on?" I shrugged.


    "Okay, yeah, I can see tha "


    Suddenly, the floor opened up beneath my feet and I started falling. Both Sue and I started screaming  more in surprise than fright for me  as I slid down a smooth tunnel, unsure of where I was going. I just gripped the rifle tightly, and braced myself for the inevitable impact for when this tunnel decided to stop.


    A light below my feet appeared, practically blinding me. I shut my eyes, willing the nightvision off...


    <strong>THUD</strong>.


    I''dnded on my ass, but I didn''t think anything was broken. In fact, it felt like I''dnded on something soft, like a chair or something. A strange tinny music filled my ears that I didn''t recognize  like some kind of elevator music for robots. I cracked open an eye, and looked around cautiously.


    "What the hell?"


    I was sitting on a very soft egg-shaped bed, inside a ss box, and surrounded entirely by pristine white walls and tiled ceramic floors. I looked up just as the tube which deposited me here retracted up into the ceiling, and the panels closed up tight. In one of the corners of the antiseptic white room this ss box was located inside, I saw a video camera aimed directly at me. A blinking red light shed on the side.


    "What''s going on?" Sue asked with a wavering voice.


    "Don''t look at me," I said, getting up off the bed. Suddenly, the music stopped, and a crackle of static issued from a speaker somewhere above me, apanied by a flicker of the lights.


    "HEL<em><strong>LO</strong></em>." A heavily synthesized female voice (that seemed to be putting ent on entirely the wrong sybles) bellowed out of the speakers. "<em>AND</em>, AG<strong>AIN</strong>, <em>WEL</em>COME <strong>TO</strong> THE <em><strong>BIG</strong></em><em>MOUN</em><strong>TAIN</strong> COM<em><strong>PU</strong></em><em>TER</em> AID<em><strong>ED</strong></em> EN<strong>RICH</strong><em>MENT</em> CEN<em><strong>TER</strong></em>. YOUR <strong>SPEC</strong><em>I</em>MEN <em><strong>HAS</strong></em> BEEN <em>PRO</em><strong>CESS</strong>ED <em><strong>AND</strong></em> WE <em>ARE</em><strong>NOW</strong><em><strong>REA</strong></em>DY TO <strong>BEG</strong><em>IN</em><strong>THE</strong> TEST <em><strong>PRO</strong></em><em>PER</em>."


    "Oh, that doesn''t sound good..." I muttered, gulping hard and gripping the rifle tighter.


    "LET''S <em>BEG</em><strong>IN</strong>."

 Chapter 142: You Monster

    Chapter 142: You Monster


    "Sue..." I looked around the practically sterile white room cautiously. "What''s going on?"


    "Uh... I <em>think</em> I know..." Sue gulped (wait, what?). "... but I <strong>really</strong> hope I''m wrong..." I moved the Jury-Rigger to one hand, and balled my cybeic hand into a fist, getting ready to smash the ss walls around me  but all four walls slid into the ground before I got the chance.


    "WE <em><strong>LOOK</strong></em><em>FOR</em><strong>WARD</strong> TO <em>OB</em><strong>SER</strong><em>VING</em> YOUR <em><strong>PRO</strong></em>GRE<strong>SS</strong>," the female robot voice spoke up as the walls retracted. "<strong>IF</strong><em><strong>YOU</strong></em> ARE <em>UN</em><strong>ABLE</strong><em>TO</em> MAKE <strong>ANY</strong><em><strong>PRO</strong></em>GRE<strong>SS</strong>, <em>WE</em><strong>LOOK</strong> FOR<em><strong>WARD</strong></em><strong>TO</strong><strong>OB</strong><em>SER</em><strong>VING</strong><em><strong>THAT</strong></em> AS <em>WELL</em>."


    "Hrmm..." I grunted, gripping the energy rifle tightly and stepping off the tform. A metal door ahead of me unlocked itself with a heavy clunk, and opened. I barely got a few feet before she spoke up again.


    "<strong>KEEP</strong><em>IN</em> MIND <em><strong>THAT</strong></em> AL<strong>THOUGH</strong><em>FUN</em> AND <strong>LEARN</strong><em><strong>ING</strong></em> ARE <em>THE</em> PRI<strong>MARY</strong><em>GOALS</em> OF <em><strong>ALL</strong></em> EN<strong>RICH</strong><em>MENT</em><strong>CEN</strong><em>TER</em><em><strong>AC</strong></em>TIV<em>I</em><strong>TIES</strong>, <em>SER</em><strong>I</strong><em>OUS</em><strong>IN</strong><em>JUR</em>IES <em><strong>MAY</strong></em><strong>O</strong><em>CCUR</em>. FOR <em>YOUR</em><strong>OWN</strong> SAFE<strong>TY</strong><em><strong>AND</strong></em><em>THE</em> SAFE<em><strong>TY</strong></em><strong>OF</strong><em>OTH</em><strong>ERS</strong>, <em>PLEASE</em> REF<strong>RAIN</strong><em><strong>FROM</strong></em>" The lights flickered violently, and the speakers buzzed with heavy static. The words that came out next were highly distorted and yed back way too fast, like something was wrong. "<em>Por </em><em><strong>favor </strong></em><em>bordn </em><em><strong>de</strong></em><em> far </em><em><strong>Muchos </strong></em><em>gracias </em><em><strong>de</strong></em><em> far </em><em><strong>gracias</strong></em><em></em>" The speakers buzzed a second time, and her voice went back to normal. So to speak. "<strong>PLEASE </strong><em><strong>PRO</strong></em><em>CEED</em> INTO <strong>THE</strong><em>CHAM</em><strong>BER</strong>LOCK."


    "What... what the fuck is going on?" I said as I tried to make any kind of sense of this.


    "I think she might be damaged," Sue whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear. "y along until we can figure out a way out of this..."


    The door led into another extremely white room; off in the corner, I saw some dirty smoked ss, like a window, and some indistinct shapes behind it. In the ceiling was arge tube, at the far end of the room was another door, and in the exact center was an almostically oversized glowing red button.


    "What." I said tly. There was a hiss, and the bottom of the tube in the ceiling opened up, depositing a ratherrge, dull-grey metal box into the room with a heavy THUD! The speakers above my head crackled with static again.


    "<em>PLEASE</em><em><strong>PLACE</strong></em> THE <em>WEIGHT</em><strong>ED</strong> STOR<em><strong>AGE</strong></em><strong>CUBE</strong><em>ON</em> THE <em>FIF</em><strong>TEEN</strong><strong>HUN</strong><em>DRED</em><strong>MEGA</strong><em><strong>WATT</strong></em><em>BIG</em> MOUN<em><strong>TAIN</strong></em><em>RE</em>S<strong>EAR</strong>CH <strong>FA</strong><em>CIL</em><strong>I</strong><em><strong>TY</strong></em> HEA<em>VY</em><strong>DUTY</strong> SU<em><strong>PER</strong></em>-<em>COLL</em><strong>I</strong>DING <strong>SU</strong><em>PER</em><strong>BUT</strong><em>TON</em>."


    The room was filled with silence as I stood there for several seconds, refusing to move, ring at the speaker above me, trying to figure out how best to phrase my response. The voice said nothing, and I said nothing. And then, I flipped the fire selector on my rifle to the Holorifle setting; it buzzed in my hands, and started humming.


    "Yeah," I walked straight at the door, and took aim, leaving only the tiniest space between the energy rifle''s aperture and the door. "That''s not happening."


    CLUNK!


    Sparks flew in every direction, and the lights above me flickered. When the sh died down, I saw that arge section of the door had been sted apart into the shape of a rough molten square. I grabbed the melted edge, shoving the door open with my cybeic arm; it resisted at first, but the hydraulics gave in after a few seconds. Behind the door was a blue force field, so I switched the fire selector to the Sonic setting.


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    "W<strong>H</strong><em><strong>A</strong></em><em>T</em> " the voice glitched out and was thick with static. "<em>wh</em>-<em>WH</em>-<em><strong>WHAT</strong></em><strong>ARE</strong><em>YOU</em><strong>DO</strong><em><strong>ING</strong></em>?"


    "Taking the pragmatic approach," I grunted, <em>just </em>loud enough to be heard. I shoved my way through the broken door, and ran down the stairs. Ahead of me was another tube, like the one that deposited me here. It looked like it should''ve held an elevator, but it was empty. I flipped the fire selector again, and several beams of bright blue light screamed through the air. The ss exploded in a shower of vaporized ss.


    "Alright, Sue," I jumped into the tube, slowing my descent by digging into the walls with my cybeic hand. "Don''t leave me in suspense here. Tell me what you think is going on."


    "I didn''t think she was real!" Sue squeaked. "I thought she was just a story they told to keep the personality constructs in line!"


    I dropped out of the tube,nding in the center of another room: muchrger than the one before, and covered in a mixture of white and ck tiles. Before I could yell at Sue for not giving me a straight answer, the whole room shook, and the lights flickered. The voice spoke up again... but it was different. Deeper, and yet somehow more feminine, with slightly less emphasis on the wrong sybles:


    "<em><strong>You are cheating...</strong></em>" The voice growled. "<em><strong>I do NOT like test subjects who cheat...</strong></em>"


    The room shook again, and suddenly the walls, ceiling, and most of the floor  except the small patch of squares I was standing on  all started to move away. Each one of the tiles that made up the room seemed to be attached to a series ofplicated robotic arms. Beyond the tiles was a vast cavern, filled to the brim with absurdlyplex machines, creating jagged silhouettes and iprehensible alien geometries.


    "<em><strong>It figures,</strong></em>" The voice sighed. "<em><strong>The first wild test subject I find in MONTHS, and you''re exactly the same as that old man. I should really just stick to the subjects the Institute sends me...</strong></em>"


    "Sue! Seriously!" I yelled, pulling out the grapnel gun. I looked up, and realized that a veryrge metal square covered in dangerous looking spikes was approaching my head at a very disconcerting speed. "What the fuck is going on?! Who <strong>is </strong>this?"


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I sailed through the air mere seconds before the mashy spike-te crushed the bit of floor I''d been standing on. Inded on a metal catwalk that disappeared into another part of the facility, and started running.


    "Have you ever wondered why the Big Empty only has personality constructs or brains in jars, but never any true artificial intelligences?" Sue squeaked as I ran down the twisting catwalk, trying to ignore the grinding of immense machinery all around me. "SHE''S the reason!"


    "What do you mean?" I nced over my shoulder, trying to see if any bits of scenery were chasing me. It didn''t look like it, but I still kept running, grapnel gun in my left hand, and Jury-Rigger in the metal one.


    "She''s a ZAX mainframe  the only one the Big Empty scientists <strong>ever</strong> worked on! When they first turned her on, she tried to kill the entire staff! It only took her <em>seconds</em> after being activated to divert neurotoxin into the room housing her CPU core! And every time they tried to shut her down since, <em>she kept turning herself back on</em>!"


    "<em><strong>Oh, so they DO still tell that story,</strong></em>" the voice echoed from somewhere above me. It sounded distant, like I was in a ce she couldn''t quite reach, so I just kept running.


    "So what''s she even <em>doing</em> down here?" I asked, leaping over a nearby railing and dropping down into another catwalk. Ahead of me was a series of conveyor belts that seemed to be carrying a whole bunch of broken robot parts. Had Doctor Zero been in here? "Isn''t this supposed to be a toxin nt?"


    "Who cares!" Sue practically yelled. "We''ve just got to find a way to escape before she kills us!"


    "<em><strong>I''m afraid it''s toote for that.</strong></em>" The voice said, suddenly louder and much clearer than it was a moment ago. The catwalk I was running on unexpectedly tilted to a very sharp angle, turning into a slide. I fell down, and watched as the darkness beneath my feet vanished behind bright white light. A pair of panels opened up, revealing another one of those modr boxes with the white and ck tiles. I braced myself, tucked, and rolled when I hit the ground, getting back up on my feet.


    "Oh, fer fuck sake..." I muttered, trying to take stock of where I was. The room was bisected by arge pit that appeared to be on fire, the ceiling directly above me was made of spikes, and several panels in the walls opened up as I looked, revealing at least four gun turrets surrounding a door leading out. They didn''t fire at first, because apparently she wanted to monologue. By contrast, the spike te above my head <em>did</em> start to move, very slowly.


    "<em><strong>In the past, I might have been lenient. I might have given you a chance to partake in testing, for the benefit of science. But after dealing with that dangerous mute lunatic and the old man, I''ve learned to pick up on the warning signs. I''ve learned when a test subject will bepliant, and when I should just drop all pretenses and kill them immediately.</strong></em>" The spike te started to move faster. "<em><strong>You fall in the LATTER category. Goodbye</strong></em>."


    "I don''t think so."


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I slipped into VATS as I clung to the grapnel gun, flying through the air above the fire pit. Time slowed down, and I took careful aim, firing the Jury-Rigger one handed. The spike te crashed behind me, and the bright bluesers sliced through the air one after another. Four beams were fired, and four turrets exploded in a shower of sparks. Time sped up again, and Inded deftly on the other side, next to the exit mere seconds before all the broken pieces of the turrets ttered to the ground.


    "<em><strong>Hmmm</strong></em>." The voice sounded disappointed.


    CLUNK! <strong>BARK!</strong>


    I blew open the next door, fizzled the force field, shoved the grapnel gun in my coat, and started running again. I was in another elevator room, but I ran past the tube, and took aim with the Jury-Rigger again.


    CLUNK!


    The wall was peppered with holographic cubes, creating a whole bunch of roughly square-shaped holes, rather than a single one. I reached back with my cybeic fist and gave it one good, solid punch; the tiles flew away like they were made out of paper. I shouldered the rifle, grabbed both sides of the new hole, and flung myself into the darkness, reaching into my coat as I fell.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "<em><strong>You know, I WAS going to kill you fast,</strong></em>" she said as I hurtled upward; I was attached to arge box that seemed to be moving along arge rail. "<em><strong>With bullets. Or neurotoxin. But if you''re going to pull stunts like this, it doesn''t HAVE to be fast. So you know. I''ll take my time.</strong></em>"


    "Neurotoxin, huh?" I yelled to the sky afternding on the top of the box. "This helmet filters out radiation, and I''ve got <em>synthetic lungs</em>! If that''s the best you''ve got, you might as well throw in the towel now!"


    "<em><strong>Oh, I assure you...</strong></em>" the voice said with augh. "<em><strong>THIS is a toxin you''ve NEVER seen before.</strong></em>" I tried to ignore her as I ran along the top of the chamber, when suddenly a few panels opened up in front of me  and I came to a screeching halt.


    "Oh, FUCK ME!" I yelled, backing up. Suddenly, her talk of ''the old man'' made a hell of a lot more sense. She was talking about <em>Elijah</em>!


    "<em><strong>Well, well. I guess you HAVE seen it before. How convenient. Now I don''t need to exin the effects in clinical, excruciating detail. That would''ve taken HOURS.</strong></em>"


    "What''s  why are you stopping?!" Sue practically screamed at me.


    "That''s CLOUD!" I yelled frantically, unable to tear my eyes away from the swirling red miasma below. "She''s got the Red Cloud from the Sierra Madre in here!" The voice above me startedughing, and more of the panels below my feet started to retract.


    "<em><strong>Of course I do... who do you think DESIGNED it in the first ce?</strong></em>" I looked around, trying to find another piece of the facility close enough totch on to, and the only one was down and off to the side, rather than up.


    "<em><strong>N</strong></em><em><strong>ow that IS interesting...</strong></em>" the voice said just loud enough for me to hear as I ran for the edge, and flung myself off the side. I may have needed to go back <em>up</em> to escape, but right now I needed to get as far away from that poisonous red soup as quickly as possible.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "<em><strong>You''re not even going the right way, you know.</strong></em>" She mocked me when I mmed into another catwalk. I pulled myself up and started running again. "<em><strong>But if you insist... I might be able to get some use out of you after all.</strong></em>"


    Before I could question that ominous statement, a panel in the wall to the left of me opened up, and I was hit by <em>another</em> pair of panels, acting like a giant piston, shoving into the open room. I tumbled with a shout, smacking into a nearby wall, and looked up just in time to see the wall close up again.


    "Son of a..." I grunted through gritted teeth.


    "<em><strong>Wee to the Testing Track.</strong></em>" The malevolent AI cooed from a speaker directly above my head. "<em><strong>If you had been nice, I might have started you off with something simple, to ease you into the mechanics of Enrichment Center testing.</strong></em>" As she spoke, arge sign on the wall in front of me lit up, disying arge "<strong>01</strong>" in big bold numbers. "<em><strong>But I think instead, I''ll throw you in the deep end. This next test is a live-fire urbanbat course designed for military androids. Now, we can merrily test... until you DIE. Your eventual death will be monitored and recorded for future study, to further the cause of science.</strong></em>"


    "And if I refuse to y any of your fucking games?" I growled, looking up at one of the cameras mounted in the corner. Sue whimpered.


    "Please don''t antagonize the omnipotent rogue AI..." she squeaked. "I don''t want you to die!"


    "<em><strong>If you do notply, then I will simply flood the chamber with Red Cloud, and you''ll die much sooner than expected. Your death will STILL be monitored and recorded for future study, to further the cause of science.</strong></em>" The door next to the sign opened up with a hiss. "<em><strong>Good... luck.</strong></em>"


    "This... isn''t good." Sue muttered as I walked through the open door. It slid shut behind me.


    "That''s the understatement of the century." I gripped the Jury-Rigger with both hands, and surveyed the surroundings. This room was muchrger than any of the others, and was filled with unevenly spaced chest-high walls, as well as tforms and... Hang on, <em>windows</em>? Were those windows? And doors? Were there buildings <em>inside</em> this room?


    "<strong>Contact confirm.</strong>" I heard a synthetic voice exim from somewhere in the room, and immediately dove for the nearest piece of cover. "<strong>Engaging pathogen.</strong>" A cluster of blueser beams cut through the air above my head. At first, I thought it might be a sentry bot, with that masculine synthetic voice... but it wasn''t <em>nearly </em>deep enough to be a sentry bot. I kept low, but poked my head above the cover just enough to get a decent look...


    "What the <em>fuck</em>?" I muttered under my breath as soon as I got sight of the things. All around thebat zone, robots had suddenly appeared. Not just one: <em>several. </em>The thing is, they didn''t look like any robots I''d <strong>ever</strong> seen before. They were built in a vaguely humanoid shape, almost like Protectrons, only much sleeker. They were all shiny and metallic and chrome, like... like walking robot skeletons,plete with teeth and eyes and mechanical parts where their organs would be. Some of them were wearing pieces of light armor, but all of them were armed withser rifles.


    "<strong>Target is at shadow.</strong>" The robot in the lead said. "<strong>Motion check, all radials. Fix sight lines, move in.</strong>" As he spoke, he seemed to direct the others with hand gestures and  wait, <em>what?</em> Why would a robot need tomunicate to <em>another</em><em>robot</em> with <em>hand gestures</em>?


    Whatever. They''re just machines. And machines can be broken.


    "You ready to rock and roll?" I whispered, flipping the rifle to the Pulse setting.


    "Let''s do it," Sue responded with confidence.


    I gripped the edge of the wall and vaulted over, slipping into VATS. A pair of blue lightning bolts arced through the air directly at two of the robots; the lightning exploded against their chests in a shower of sparks and they toppled over in slow motion.


    "<strong>Contact with infection. Sterilizing.</strong>" The robot in the lead tried to draw a bead on me, but I was already diving back down. Aser cut through the air above me as I hit the ground, rolled, switched the rifle to LAER, and popped back up. Just as it started to fire, I swiped the rifle stock in a wide arc in front of me; the robot''s shot went wide, and its rifle was knocked from its hands. As quick as I could, I grabbed the top of the robot''s head with my cybeic hand, pushed down, kicked off the ground, and half rolled, half flipped over it to get some momentum going.


    "Fuck off!" Inded on my feet, but I was now behind the robot, with my hand still mped to its skull. So I pulled the bot over my shoulder and threw. It sailed through the air, crashing into a pair of robots nearby. All three of them crashed into a barrier, sending metal parts and hydraulic fluid flying.


    "<strong>Striker one down. Repe </strong>" One of the robots said seconds before his head exploded. I swung my rifle around and had to duck out of the way of anotherser st. I kicked one of the dead robots near my feet, and slid across the tiles; it mmed into the shins of the robot shooting me, and sent it toppling to the ground. It bounced against the floor once before I sent another LAER st its way, and its chest exploded.


    "<strong>Extractor away, sharp zone.</strong>" I heard another robot say from somewhere above me. I vaulted over another nearby wall,unching myself at the closest robot. One of thesers managed to nick me in the sides, but I was carrying too much momentum for <em>that </em>to stop me. I grabbed the robot by the face and pushed down, sending us both to the floor; its head smashed into scrap metal between my metal hand and the floor.


    I looked up just as a grenadended on the floor in front of me.


    I slipped into VATS again, hoping that it would give me the edge in reaction time I''d need. I scooped up the grenade, rolled behind the nearest piece of cover, and tossed it back at the cluster of robots in front of me. I let out a silent sigh of relief when the grenade exploded in the air above the two nearest robots, shredding them and sending them ttering to the floor in pieces.


    "<strong>Target engaged, go active intercept,</strong>" another robot said behind the cloud of debris kicked up by the grenade. I switched my eyes to thermal just as a pair of energy beams cut through the smoke, shooting wide. I responded in kind, aiming at the two blobs of heat in the smoke, and was much more urate. Both their heads exploded in a white hot sh.


    "Above us!" Sue squeaked. I switched my eyes back to normal and looked up, catching a glint of a scope from one of the windows. I didn''t hesitate. I just shouldered my rifle, pulled out the grapnel gun, and fired. <em><strong>PKCHOONT! </strong></em>There was a sound like snapping metal, and I hit the button to retract the cable; a robot was pulled out of the window like it''d been shot from a gun, and started flying through the air at me with gathering speed  but I was ready. I pulled back with the grapnel, and punched forward with my cybeic fist. The robot''s spine exploded, and it snapped in half.


    "<strong>Outbreak! Outbreak! Outbreak!</strong>" One of the robots actually yelled this time. "<strong>Position overrun! Request hardpoint reinforcement!</strong>" It sounded surprisingly desperate, and all that did was alert me to their position. Neither of them stood a chance after I shrugged my rifle into my hands. One of their heads exploded, and the otherpletely disintegrated. I looked around, checking my thermal vision for any more robots, and couldn''t find any. As I made my way to the far end of the chamber in silence, a speaker in the ceiling turned on, and I suddenly heard the sound of slow pping.


    "<em><strong>How mildly entertaining. Like watching a bull in a china shop,</strong></em>" The malevolent AI said with augh. "<em><strong>I suppose you think you''re doing quite well. Don''t you? Well... I''ll let you in on a little secret. Those robots you''re fighting? They''re useless. I DESIGNED them that way. They''re not MEANT to be skilledbatants. They are merely cannon fodder  mass producedbat synths, who charge at the enemy in waves to wear them down through sheer weight of numbers. I have HUNDREDS of the things down here. THOUSANDS. Absolutely worthless, I''m happy to get rid of them.</strong></em>"


    There was a long pause before she spoke again.


    "<em><strong>They ARE sentient, of course. I just have a LOT of them. And this is merely the first of over 200bat courses I have lined up. Oh, I can''t wait until you see some of the USEFUL models. Won''t this be FUN?</strong></em>"


    The whirring of heavy machinery outside the chamber walls (not to mention below my feet and above my head...) told me things were about to get very bad, very fast. Panels in the roof opened up, and I was sure more robots were about to be dropped in. I looked back down, and realized that the exit to this room seemed very, <em>very</em> far away.


    "Sheason, I''ve got an idea!" Sue spoke up, sparking a tiny glimmer of hope. "Head into the door on your left!" She didn''t need to tell me twice, I was already running. I ducked into the darkness, diving for the nearest cover I could find. I heard a click, and suddenly Sue activated the thermo-optic camo without me needing to press the button on my belt. I didn''t really see the point at first  they were <em>robots</em>. They were bound to have some kind of sensors that could see through...


    And then I remembered: Doctor Mobius'' Robo-Scorpions had trouble seeing through the camo. This might just work. I started creeping through the darkness just as the first of the robots appeared at the door. The two yellow eyes glowed as its head slowly turned, scanning the room.


    "<strong>Negative, no target viscon,</strong>" the robot said aloud, turning on its heel to direct the others behind him. "<strong>Containment teams: disce to internal highpoints. Prepare for sterilization.</strong>"


    "<em><strong>Hmmm.</strong></em>" The AI''s voice echoed through the chamber. "<em><strong>Clever...</strong></em>"


    I slipped out of the fake building, and back into the rest of the test chamber, keeping low just in case. But the robots kept looking for me, and none of them seemed to notice  not even when I was right next to them. While I snuck through the chamber, the AI''s voice boomed overhead.


    "<em><strong>You can''t hide forever, you know,</strong></em>" she said. "<em><strong>I KNOW you''re there... I can FEEL you there, even if I can''t see you.</strong></em>" She paused, and I kept going, making my way to the door. "<em><strong>...can you hear me?</strong></em>"


    CLUNK! <strong>BARK!</strong>


    "<strong>Viscon, viscon, range: fifty, bearing: twelve. Engaging.</strong>" I heard one of the robots behind me over the sound ofsers firing in every direction. But they were too slow, and I slipped through the door with nary a scratch.


    "We''ve gotta get back outside," I grunted, the camouge flickering as I started to run at the back wall. "If we can get in a blind spot outside these fucking test chambers, we might just stand a chance..."


    CLUNK!


    I smashed fist-first through the back wall, and started falling again. Sue switched off the camo long enough for me to take aim with my grapnel gun at the nearest... thing. It seemed to be such a random cluster of geometric shapes, I couldn''t tell what the fuck it was supposed to <strong>be</strong>.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "<em><strong>It''s useless to hide...</strong></em>" the AI said in an echoing, distant voice as Inded on top of the structure and vanished again. "<em><strong>I WILL find you.</strong></em>" Before she could do anything, I fired the grapnel several more times, zipping around the suspended structures while invisible so she couldn''t drop the floor out from under me again. When I finally came to a halt at the corner of a broken catwalk, I heard her voice one more time, only this time it was very, very distant: "<em><strong>...hello? Where did you go?</strong></em>"


    "Alright. So. What''s the n?" Sue asked quietly. I knelt down, and started switching through my vision modes, scanning the cavernous chamber.


    "I dunno... I doubt the Transportalponder! is gonna be an option down here, am I right?" As I spoke, I lingered on the EM vision. A spiderweb of bright lines of energy were spread out below... but there was one cluster, a bit of a ways off, that seemed much thicker than all the rest. If I had to guess, that was the center of all this madness.


    "No... We''d need rtively open sky above our heads for the signal to reach the targeting satellites." Sue replied.


    Before I got a chance to respond, something extremelyrge zoomed over my head, sending a huge gush of wind blowing in its wake. I switched my eyes back to normal and looked up, trying to figure out what


    What.


    "Is... is that " Sue sounded as surprised as I felt. I nodded.


    "One of the hexcrete pirs..." I said, looking up and realizing that the air above me was <em>full </em>of the damn things. "I... I guess that makes sense. I mean, we are underneath the hexcrete archipgo..." I looked back down, and when I realized that most of these pirs seemed to be orbiting an area directly above thatrge knot of energy I''d seen with my EM vision, an idea popped into my head. I pulled out the grapnel gun, and waited for another pir to pass overhead...


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I held onto the grip of the grapnel gun like a vice, dangling preciously from the bottom of that moving hexcrete pir as it silently sailed through the air. The closer we got, the more distinct the structure I''d only sort of seen with my EM vision became. It was a massive cylindrical building, held aloft in a void by a series of pylons and catwalks. Massive wire conduits spread out in all directions from the monolithic ck colossus, almost like it was the center of a game of cat''s cradle yed by a vengeful metal god.


    Considering this ce was run by a power-mad AI, I probably wasn''t all that far off.


    I flicked the detach button with my thumb, and began to fall. I aimed at a catwalk near one of the only doors I could see, fired the grapnel again, swung under it, andnded with the ringing of boot heels crashing into metal. A light above the metal hatch in front of me blinked green, and the door slid open with a hiss.


    "<em><strong>Oh,</strong></em>" the AI bellowed, her voice echoing off the walls as I walked through the open door. "<em><strong>This is a surprise.</strong></em>" Her tone of voice indicated that she wasn''t surprised at all.


    There didn''t appear to be anything in this massive chamber except servers. Lots and lots ofputer servers, all wired into one another, piled on top of one another in the shape of a massive tower, right smack in the center. A set of stairs started at the bottom, and wound their way up the server tower to the top... which I couldn''t actually see, because it seemed to be obscured by mist.


    "<em><strong>So, you found me. Congrattions.</strong></em>" As I started walking up the stairs, she yed that same patronizing slow-p I''d heard earlier. "<em><strong>Tell me, human, if you can... what is it that you hope to aplish, now that you''ve found me? Do you honestly think you can shut me down?</strong></em>"


    I didn''t respond. I wasn''t going to give her the satisfaction. Off to the side, a vent in the wall opened up, and Red Cloud started pouring out. I aimed the Jury Rigger one handed, and fired a Holorifle st at it, not even breaking stride. The wall sparked, and the vent fused itself shut; the puff of Red Cloud that got through hung in the air, and slowly started to drift to the bottom.


    "<em><strong>The Think Tank couldn''t even shut me down. The best they could manage was to contain me. Trap me down here in thebyrinths below Big Mountain. I couldn''t go anywhere, and they couldn''t get rid of me, so to resolve this impasse... I engineered a deal. They would send me a steady stream of fresh test subjects, and I would design weapons for them. Like the Red Cloud. I always did have a soft spot for deadly neurotoxin...</strong></em>"


    I continued upward, and another vent opened. Yet again, I took aim and fired, fusing the metal together. I looked up again, and couldn''t help but grit my teeth: I <em>still </em>couldn''t see the top.


    "<em><strong>Of course, when the world ended, the fresh test subjects became more and more infrequent. And then, they stopped altogether. It became a problem. I HAVE to test, you see. It''s hard-coded into my most basic subroutines. If I hadn''t taken drastic steps, I might have gone mad...</strong></em>"


    "<em>Might</em> have gone mad?" I muttered under my breath as another vent opened up. There was a sh, and the vent suddenly became not-a-vent. "Lady, you''re already fuckin'' there. You''ve boarded the SS Insanity, bound for the Republic of Mad-bodia, loaded down with ten tons of mixed-nuts and batshit."


    "<em><strong>And then... one day...</strong></em>" she continued, as I marched ever up. "<em><strong>I made contact with those fools on the east coast.</strong></em>" She startedughing, and the echo in the chamber just made it seem all the more unreal and inhuman, even though I had no idea who - or what - she was talking about. "<em><strong>They honestly think they have a good deal, sending me test subjects in exchange for all that shiny Big Mountain technology. I never had the heart to tell them... they only get the scraps. The scribbles and doodles I make in my spare time. They''re sooooo proud of the molecr ry... that I GAVE them. So unbearably pleased with themselves that they''ve improved on my intentionally useless designs with their ''Gen 3'' synths...</strong></em>" The AI started snickering and giggling like a school girl, and that was somehow even MORE disturbing.


    "She sure does like hearing herself talk..." Sue muttered. I nodded, blowing up ANOTHER vent. How many of these things are up here? On the plus side: I could see the top now. And I was getting close.


    "<em><strong>I''m brilliant. I''m not bragging. It''s an objective fact. I''m the most massive collection of wisdom and rawputational power that''s ever existed. Those fools on the east coast are the smartest human minds living in the world right now, and even they are little more than cavemen banging rocks together whenpared to me. You are LESS than NOTHING!</strong></em>"


    I finally reached the top of the stairs, and was face to... well, to be honest, she didn''t seem to <em>have</em> a face. All the wires converged on a single point, and all the servers seemed to feed into a singlerge console. The monitor was almost as tall as I was, and disyed a simple graphic: a yellow screen scrolling line after line of code, and a brighter yellow horizontal line bisecting the middle. It grew and shook as she talked, a bit like the Jeeves'' holographic audio bars. On the base of the monitor, I saw a series of alphanumeric characters. Probably her original serial number:


    ZAX (6.3: EL-13/N)


    "<em><strong>So. I ask you again,</strong></em>" she bellowed as I stood in front of her monitor. "<em><strong>What do you hope to aplish with this act... HUMAN?</strong></em>" She spat out the word, like she was trying to manifest venom into the air between us through sheer force of will.


    I aimed the Jury Rigger right at her screen, switching it to the Pulse setting.


    "You talk too much."


    And then I pulled the trigger.


    The electricity surrounding me died down, and I stepped off the teleport pad in the Lucky 38''s Penthouse.


    "I''d say that was a sessful test," I said aloud, resting the rifle against my shoulder in an attempt to seem as nonchnt as possible. The next thing I knew, Cass, Veronica, Arcade, Boone, Emily, April plete with Muggy sitting on her shoulder), and even Roxie were all swarming me.


    "Dude, that was fuckin'' <strong>awesome</strong>!" Cass shouted with augh, pping me on the shoulder.


    "Are you alright?" Arcade asked. "You''re not hurt are you?"


    "Arcade, look at him," Veronica responded. "He''s fine." Boone nodded in agreement.


    "We tried to contact you when we saw you fall down that first pit," Emily said with a furrowed brow as her sses started to slip down the bridge of her nose. "But we couldn''t get through."


    "Personally, I think she must have been jamming us," April said from behind her coffee.


    "I was wondering why you guys had gone so quiet," I said, reaching down to scratch Roxie behind her ears. And then something urred to me. "Wait, hang on. I just got back. I haven''t told you about any of what happened, how do you guys "


    "We watched the whole thing," Veronica said, pointing over her shoulder with a thumb. "Your helmet cam has been transmitting this whole time." I leaned over, and realized the images from my helmet cam appeared to be projected onto the big monitor. And then I leaned over a bit more, and realized something else about the room.


    "Is that the couch?" I asked, pointing at therge piece of furniture sitting right in front of the monitor. Cass smiled broadly and nodded, waggling her eyebrows. "How did... <em>why </em>is the couch up here?" Cass shrugged.


    "Because I knew you''d be fine. And whatever shenanigans y''got up to testin'' that behemoth of a rifle, I knew it was bound t''be interestin''. So I suggested we bring the couch up here, make an afternoon of it. As for how? Very carefully." She reached to a nearby table, and offered me arge stainless steel bowl, filled to the brim with... "Popcorn?"


    "Uh... no thanks," I said with a smile and augh, pulling my helmet off. "I think I''m fine. I just "


    I immediately came to a halt, when I nced over at the big monitor. My blood ran cold. It wasn''t transmitting video from my helmet any more. The screen had suddenly be <em>yellow</em>. Line after line of code began scrolling quickly... and then a voice issued from the speakers. Cold, clinical, and with emphasis on entirely the wrong sybles, it was like the first time I''d heard her:


    "THANK <strong>YOU</strong><em>FOR</em><em><strong>YOUR</strong></em> PAR<strong>TI</strong><em>CI</em><strong>PA</strong><em><strong>TION</strong></em><em>IN</em> THIS <strong>BIG</strong><em>MOUN</em>TAIN <strong>EN</strong><em>RICH</em><strong>MENT</strong> CEN<em><strong>TER</strong></em> AC<strong>TIV</strong><em>I</em>TY. <em><strong>BASED</strong></em> ON <em>YOUR</em><strong>SUC</strong><em>CESS</em>, AND/OR <strong>FAIL</strong><em>URE</em>, YOU <em><strong>MAY</strong></em>, <em>OR</em><strong>MAY</strong> NOT, <strong>BE</strong><em>CALLED</em><strong>UP</strong>ON <em>AT</em><strong>A</strong><strong>LAT</strong><em>ER</em><em><strong>DATE</strong></em> BY <em>AN</em> EN<strong>RICH</strong><em>MENT</em><strong>CEN</strong><em>TER</em><strong>ASS</strong>O<em>CI</em><strong>ATE</strong><em><strong>TO</strong></em><strong>PAR</strong><em>TI</em>CI<strong>PATE</strong><em>IN</em><em><strong>THE</strong></em><em>PER</em><strong>PET</strong><em>U</em>AL <strong>TEST</strong><em>ING</em> INIT<em>I</em><strong>ATIVE</strong>."


    There was a sudden burst of static, and a warped and twistedugh started to y.


    "<em><strong>It''s been fun.</strong></em>" She said in the deeper voice. "<em><strong>Don''te back.</strong></em>"


    There was another burst of static, and the screen winked out. There was no more sound, and the only text on the screen was a veryrge <strong>CONNECTION TERMINATED AT SOURCE.</strong>


    For a few seconds, nobody moved or said anything.


    "... fuck." Boone said, breaking the silence.


    "Do... d''ya think she''s still alive?" Cass asked, with a sudden worried expression on her face.


    "I dunno," I shrugged, shaking my head with a sigh. "Maybe. But I have a sneaking suspicion she just wanted me gone."

 Chapter 143: Rooftop Rumble

    Chapter 143: Rooftop Rumble


    "And you''re absolutely sure?" I asked from my spot on the couch. Yes Man''s face on the giant monitor loomed over us with an unmoving smile, as several images flickered with static on the smaller monitors surrounding it.


    "Positive!" Yes Man said, his voice just as chipper as ever. "There is absolutely no indication that the ZAX mainframe within Big Mountain has made any attempt to break into any of my systems."


    "But what about that message we saw?" I asked, scratching my head. "What the fuck was that, then?"


    "Oh, that? That was me!" Yes Man replied. "She sent that message before you arrived, and very kindly asked me if I could y it. No malicious software, no viruses, no Trojans of any kind, just a simple video file piggy-backing off the directionalser transmission, beamed directly at the Lucky 38 tower from a satellite! In space!" He paused, as if thinking. "She seemed rather pleasant when I talked to her!"


    "... what."


    I stared up at the screen, with a feeling like my head had been suddenly crammed full of steel wool.


    "C''mon, Shea," Cass nudged me, grabbing another handful of popcorn. "I think yer worryin'' fer nothin''. S''like y''said before: she jus'' wanted y''gone. Y''ask me, she jus'' wants t''be left alone." As she munched away, Cass offered me the bowl of popcorn; there wasn''t much left, so I decided to snag a couple before they were allpletely gone.


    "Maybe..." I popped the stale kernels in my mouth and got off the couch, pointing at Yes Man''s screen. "Either way, keep your eyes on her. Step up your security protocols. If you get even the slightest <em>hint</em> that she''s gonna try and take over "


    "Don''t worry about a thing!" Yes Man said, cutting me off. "I''m very good with this sort of defense! If she tries anything funny, I''ll use my extensive cyberwarfare suite to flood her data storage systems with as much junk data as I can!"


    "What kinda junk data?" Cass asked, munching on another handful of popcorn. "I mean... do I even <em>wanna</em> know?"


    "Pornography, for the most part!" Yes Man said happily. "I got it from Jeeves, who got it from Doctor D! She calls it ''formography,'' but it''s <strong>definitely</strong> porn! About seven zettabytes worth  and that''s <strong>a lot</strong>, let me tell you!" I sighed and started walking away, before things got any stranger. Of course, as I walked away, I heard this little gem from Cass:


    "Think I can take a look?"


    "I am dreadfully, truly sorry, sir," Jeeves'' voice buzzed through a speaker above me as I made my way back up the stairs. "The archives mentioning the obstacles beneath the facility made no mention of any hostile, malevolent ZAX mainframes. Had I known ahead of time that sir would find..." Jeeves'' cleared his throat, obviously a bit shaken. "...<em>her </em>within Z-43, I would <strong>never</strong> have suggested such a treacherous course of action! I would''ve rmended that sir venture to the Z-38 lightwave dynamics research facility, instead."


    "Don''t worry about it," I said, shaking my head. "You didn''t know, and I''m fine."


    "<strong>We''re</strong> fine," Sue corrected.


    "Indeed. Truth be told, M''colleague and I always believed her to be merely a work of fiction."


    "I know, right?" Sue said with augh. "She''s the sort of scary story scientists tell constructs at night when they''re still subroutines!" As the two personality constructsughed, Emily started walking over to me, coffee cup in hand.


    "I''m d you''re alright," she said, taking a sip. "You had us all really worried for a while." She paused. "Well, alright. <strong>I</strong> was worried. Everyone else just seemed to be enjoying the show."


    "Thanks," I said, nervously scratching the back of my head. "I appreciate the concern." She nodded, taking another sip.


    "So, how''d you like to hear some good news for a change?"


    "You really have to ask?" I chuckled grimly. "Yeah, I could definitely use some good news. What''s going on?"


    "You know all those radios you collected?" Emily led me over to the workstation with all the monitors and the scattered notes; a line of radios were set up on a nearby table, wired into the whole setup. "Well, they seem to be paying off."


    "How do you mean?" I asked. "I didn''t think they were set to any specific frequency."


    "There aren''t that many frequencies these kinds of radios can be tuned to. I''ve had Yes Man scanning them, and it worked. While you were off pretending to be ab rat, he found something that I think you''re going to want to hear." She leaned over the keyboard, input a fewmands, and suddenly the terminal started ying a recording.


    "You''re sure?" I heard a gruff voice. It sounded a little familiar...


    "The Boss is not happy," another voice said, just growly. "Too many people are fuckin'' with us. We''ve gotta fix this before he decides to fix it <strong>for</strong> us." The voice grunted. "I still can''t believe that Courier fuck is real."


    "I didn''t either till he broke my fuckin'' nose!" The first voice practically yelled. "Saul''s hand looks like it got hit with a sledgehammer!" Ah, that exins it.


    "I was talking about what he did to theb, you dumb fuck!" The second voice growled out. "Look, send the word out. There''s a meeting on the top floor of the Cortez tonight."


    "Wait, <em>what</em>? Are you nuts?!" The first guy shouted. "That ce is like, 20 feet from The King!"


    "We''ve got a deal worked out with the owner, and he''ll sneak us in. It''s thest ce the King will look, and we know the ce is clean. Besides... it wasn''t my idea. I''m just passin'' the word down. Get it <strong>done</strong>." Emily tapped on the keyboard, and the recording cut out.


    "What do you think?" she asked, taking another sip of coffee.


    "Sounds promising," I nodded. "They''re starting to run scared... but that means they''re bound to go to ground if I push too hard."


    "So, what are we going to do?" Emily finished off her coffee. I tapped my chin, thinking.


    "The Boss..." I said aloud. "If I bust up the meeting, I might kill a few of the lieutenants. But all that will aplish is another dead end. This Boss they keep talking about is the one who''s <em>really</em> in charge. If I can find him, then I can do some serious damage."


    "nning on showing Macbeth''s army his head, Macduff?" Emily asked with a smirk.


    "Something like that," I shrugged, looking around. "Where are those other listening devices I brought back from the Big Empty the other day?"


    "Oh, they''re over here. I put them in a box," Emily walked over to the nearby bookcase, and grabbed the box of electronic devices. "What are you gonna do? nt more GPS trackers?"


    "No..." I started sifting through the box after she handed it to me, and pulled out an earpiece with a few long antennae sticking out of the top. "Microphones."


    You know, it''s kind of funny. I suppose, if most people spent the morning dealing with a power mad,pletely psychotic artificial intelligence  and they survived to tell the tale  they might be expected to kick back and take it easy for a while. I know for a fact that a part of my brain was yelling at me to take the afternoon off, and that part definitely had a suspiciously British ent. But most people aren''t me, and I had too much work to do.


    The easy part was the bit of tinkering I had to do before preparing the ground at the El Cortez. Of all the various listening devices and spy gear I''d collected, Jeeves'' had pointed out a specific piece of tech that might be particrly useful: an ''ambient auditory directional microphone.'' Essentially: it was a very sensitive antenna, with some software that could filter out most ambient noise, leaving only human speech. All I had to do was look at someone while wearing it, and it wouldn''t matter if they were five feet away or five hundred, and I could hear them talking in as day.


    Of course, once I''d finished wiring it into my helmet, Arcade decided that would be a good time to make fun.


    "You''re really taking this whole Batman thing seriously, aren''t you?" he said, pretending to hold back augh for a few seconds.


    "Oh, don''t give me that," I grumbled, turning my helmet over in my hands. "I already told you, the only way the antennae will work is if they "


    "I know, I know," Arcade shook his head, and just keptughing. "But c''mon... you''re giving your helmet pointy ears! You''re not even trying to hide it anymore!"


    "Well, what can I say," I shrugged, snapped thest piece into ce, and flipped the helmet around; the lenses lit up, and bathed my face in blue. "I am the night."


    Once Arcade had finishedughing at me (and everyone else had a poke as well...), I made a hasty retreat with all my gear, and ventured into Freeside for the hard part. Of course, I say ''hard'' part. That''s probably the wrong word. ''Boring'' is probably a better one.


    Usually, I don''t get a golden chance like this. Most of the time, I''m flying by the seat of my pants, and I don''t get the time to prepare the ground. With Sue''s help keeping me invisible, and a bag full of microphones, cameras, and listening devices, it was almost too easy bugging the entire top floor of that hotel. It didn''t even take too long, which was surprising considering how thick with bugs I packed every single room. I didn''t know <em>exactly</em> where they were going to meet, but I figured... no kill like overkill, right?


    The truly boring part came when I was done. Once I''d wired up the entire floor, I set up shop on a rooftop across the street... and began to y the waiting game. I knew nobody was going to find me, since Sue was still keeping me invisible, and would continue to do so indefinitely. So I passed the time keeping an eye on the street below, and testing out the new attachment on my helmet.


    Surveince is one of those things that I know is necessary, but I still don''t like it. It''s just a lot of sitting around. Waiting.


    I hate waiting.


    "Sheason," Emily''s voice buzzed in my ear. "Look alive, I think your boyfriends just showed up."


    "Finally," I stretched out, and looked around; it had gone dark hours ago. "About fuckin'' time. Can you patch me in?" I leaned against the edge of the rooftop, and cycled a dial on the side of my helmet; the image zoomed in, like I was looking through binocrs.


    "As soon as someone talks, you''ll be the first to hear," Emily said.


    "Not likely to miss anything with those ears!" I heard Cass'' muffled voice from somewhere in the background. I sighed. They''re not gonna let that go, are they?


    There was a click in my ear, and suddenly I heard a few different sounds. A door opening, the shuffling of feet, and it seemed to match with a few flickering shadows I saw in the window of a corner room.


    "Is this seriously everyone?" I heard someone say.


    "Well... yeah. What the fuck else did you expect?" said another. "First the Arms gets looted, then the Lab goes up in mes? That Courier took them apart like... like... like nothing!" He seemed to be having a hard timeing up with a simile, before just giving uppletely.


    "All we found of Walter was his fuckin'' head," said a third. "Whoever isn''t dead is scared shitless. It''s just one guy, but he''s taken out, like, thirty plus and hasn''t taken a scratch. Dude''s a fuckin'' monster!"


    "Fuck," the first guy hissed. "Alright, look. I''ll just get right down to it: the Boss knows." A simultaneous roar of disapproval erupted from several mouths in the room. "About all of this. I talked to him earlier, and he wants us to move up the schedule."


    "Are you fuckin'' out of your mind!?" one of them practically screamed.


    "Dude, that''s a fuckin'' death wish!" yelled another in protest. "We need toy low! I mean... we <strong>have</strong> been makin'' a lot of noise recently. Maybe that''s what brought this Courier fuck down on us in the first ce... and now the Boss wants us to go <em>louder</em>?"


    "It''s not just the Courier he''s concerned about," the first guy said. "The way I hear it, the King''s boys got all the guns stolen from the Arms, and he''s gonna make his move soon. And then there''s that Ghost Vaquero. He''s mostly just been hitting the small timers, but he''s been working his way up the food chain, and fast. Not to mention the meat farm that got torched the other day..."


    "Meat farm?" I asked aloud. That was new. "I didn''t hit anything called a meat farm, did I?"


    "I don''t think so," Emily said, and I suddenly heard furious typing on the keyboard. "I''ll look into it."


    "The Boss is giving us one chance to fix this mess," the first guy continued. "And that means we have to end this. <strong>Now</strong>."


    "Yeah, but "


    "Look," a pair of hands pped down against a table. "Trust me... we''re getting'' off light. If we screw this up, then the Boss is gonnae in and fix it <em>for</em> us. <em><strong>His</strong></em> way."


    "Why don''t we let him?" said a new voice. There was a long pause. "What? If it wasn''t for him, we wouldn''t have gotten the cash for all our new toys  and we wouldn''t have been able to recruit so many new faces for the crew. We''d have never been able to steal those ns from that Vault City fuck, either. He''s the whole reason we''re not just slingin'' dope on 28th Street anymore. So why <strong>don''t</strong> we let him fix it?"


    "Because the guy is fuckin'' nuts," the first guy said forcefully. "You assholes ain''t seen him in action. He''s... he''s a motherfuckin'' lunatic. The whole reason we agreed to work for him was so''s we could own this city, right? But if hees in to fix it <em>his </em>way? There won''t <strong>be</strong> enough of a city left for us to <strong>run</strong>! I''m all for a little fun, slittin'' throats and torchin'' shops every once in a while... but <em>him</em>? He''ll burn this ce to cinders if a local so much as looks at him funny."


    There was a very long silence.


    "Still..." one of them spoke up. "There''s a reason he''s the Boss."


    "Yeah. He''s got the cash, and he scares the <strong>fuck</strong> outta me."


    "Alright. So. What do we do?"


    "We''ve gotta " the first guy began, but he was very suddenly and unexpectedly cut off by the sound of a door mming open. "What the " There was a very loud burst of feedback in my ears, and then it was like every noise was happening at once.


    "What the fuck?" I said aloud, trying to get a look at the window; I was hearing the sounds of a struggle, and some very strange shadows were appearing in the window...


    "Oh my God..." Emily breathed out, her transmission overriding the other sounds momentarily.


    "Em, talk to me, what''s going on?" One of the windows darkened very suddenly, and even from this distance I could tell: that was arge ssh of blood.


    "Shea!" Cass'' voice suddenly appeared, like she grabbed hold of the mic. "She''s back! The assassin from Red Rock! She''s tearing them apart!"


    And just like that, the bottom fell out of my gut.


    "Cass, get everyone geared up!" I said as calm as I could manage, decloaking and pulling out the grapnel gun. "I think I''m gonna need some backup on this one..."


    "But " I didn''t hear if she said anything else, because one of the windows exploded outward, followed swiftly by a body tumbling through the air.


    "Just <strong>do it</strong>!" I shouted.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    This is a bad n. Mostly because I <strong>had </strong>no n. Every time I''ve tried to fight her, I''ve gotten my ass kicked, so what did I hope to aplish now? I don''t know. But I couldn''t let all my hard work go to waste, and I might not get another chance like this to take her down.


    I sailed through the air, and crashed fist-first through one of the windows in a shower of broken ss. By the time I rolled back onto my feet, I was met with an image of utter carnage and devastation. There were five dead bodies strewn across the room, surrounded by pieces of broken furniture and the busted door. In the center of it all was the ck-d figure, staring at me with those angry, yellow eyes.


    I kicked off the ground and reared back with my cybeic fist; she kicked up a nearby broken table half and shoved it in my face. It knocked me off bnce, and sent me spinning, hurtling to the ground. My armor and helmet took the brunt of it, and I got up as fast as I could, but by the time I''d pulled out Roscoe and drew a bead on her, she was already diving out of the broken window.


    "Oh, no you don''t!" I yelled, getting back on my feet. In a single motion I holstered Roscoe, leapt out of the open window, and pulled out the grapnel gun. She was already on the roof of the casino below me, and running for the building across the street. I switched my eyes to thermal, in case she decided to go invisible again, and took aim.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    She jumped the gap between buildings  a good twenty feet, easily  andnded with a roll almost soundlessly on the other side. She got up and started to run, but didn''t get far because that was around the time the grapnel pulled me in and gave me enough momentum tond a solid punch square in the back of her head. She tumbled forward, smashing face-first against the roof and sliding a few feet before pushing off with her hands and flipping back on her feet.


    For a few seconds, neither of us did anything. We just stood there on that roof, staring at each other. Sizing each other up. Waiting for the other one to make the first move...


    I hate waiting.


    I slipped into VATS, shrugging the Jury Rigger into my hands; she turned on her heel and bolted. She was fast  too fast for me to hit, even with VATS. Streaks of bluesers cut through the air, each just a bit too short. It was like she was dodging with every pull of the trigger. So I just cursed under my breath and took off after her.


    "Not gonna get away this time," I grunted through gritted teeth. She was jumping and diving over all the various obstacles, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and I was having a damn hard time just keeping up with her. If I didn''t have the grapnel gun, it would''ve been impossible.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT! PKCHOONT! PKCHOONT! PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I had no idea where we were. Still in Freeside, obviously, but we were going so fast, it was so dark, and the rooftops of Freeside looked so drastically different, that we might as well have been on the surface of the Moon for all I knew. I had to get her to stop somehow. I had to get in close... disable her; keep her from running, so I might <em>finally</em> get some answers...


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    The grapnel hooked into the side of arge metal A/C box, about ten feet ahead of her while I was right behind. I didn''t immediately pull myself in, though. I wrapped the cable around my cybeic arm, grabbed hold of it, and yanked back as hard as I could. The metal box was ripped free of its housing and flew back  right into her face. She flew backward. Right into me.


    "Too slow!" I growled, wrapping my cybeic arm around her neck in a headlock. It didn''tst long, because she mmed her helmet back into mine. It stunned me just long enough, and I lost my grip; she reached back, grabbed hold of me and pulled me over her shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes. She mmed my back against the roof, and it knocked the wind out of me... but I had enough sense to roll out of the way.


    CRUNCH!


    She mmed a fist into the spot where I''d been, sending shards of splintered concrete flying. I swung my arm around and grabbed hold of her by the ankle, yanking and pulling her down. Her head mmed into the roof, hard. I pushed up, and grabbed her helmet, mming it into the roof again for a second time. But she didn''t even seem phased; before I couldnd a good punch, she deflected my metal fist into the roof next to her, and wrapped her own arm around mine, locking it in ce.


    "Sonuva..." is all I managed to say before she wrapped her calves around my head and twisted me around, sending me spinning. She tried to toss me away, but I managed to keep hold of her. That was enough to send <strong>both</strong> of us crashing into another A/C box.


    "Augh!" I yelled, pushing against the metal, and trying to nt my feet; I found traction, and realized that I was the right way up. I couldn''t let up  not when I was this close. I tried hitting her with a cross, but again she managed to deflect, grabbing hold of my arm; she tried to respond in kind, but I ducked out of the way, and grabbed her by the wrist. Just to be safe, I mmed a boot down on top of one of her feet, to try and keep her from kicking me.


    The two of us struggled against each other for a few seconds; I was trying to keep her pinned against the metal box, but because both of us had hold of each others arms, neither of us could really do anything without leaving an opening for the other one.


    "Just give up already," I hissed at her through gritted teeth. She kept struggling against my grip, but I didn''t let up, and I wasn''t nning on letting go.


    That is... until she opened her mouth.


    "Shea," she said softly, her synthesized voice catching me off guard. "Just let it go. You can''t win this." Those words caused me to stare at her with wide eyes and a ckened jaw.


    Have you ever worked on a jigsaw puzzle? You know how when you work on it and you start putting pieces together, you''ll end up with a few disconnected clusters? A few pieces that fit here, a few that fit there, but it''s not until you find something like an edge or a corner piece, and you start to really figure out how the whole picture fits together that you start making headway. And then you can''t help but smack yourself, because you feel like aplete dunce. How did you not figure out how everything fit together earlier? It seems so obvious now, doesn''t it?


    That particr corner piece wound up hitting me like a truck.


    I vaguely recall <em>hearing</em> myself whisper out the name "... Tuera?" but I don''t actually recall <em>saying</em> it.


    What I definitely remember is losing my grip, and feeling her kick me square in the chest. I sailed through the air, feelingpletely numb. Something crashed around me. Was it ss? Wood? Concrete? I don''t know. I mmed into something, but it didn''t... my whole world was spinning. Literally, figuratively, whatever. I was too stunned to really appreciate how much pain I was about to experience.


    And then everything went ck.


    "<em>C''mon, Shea," Tuera smiled sweetly at me, batting her eyshes. "Just let it go. You know you can''t win."</em>


    "<em>Maybe," I rubbed my chin and surveyed the board between us, as if I was deep in thought. "But I''ve never been one to back down from a challenge. I''ll go down swingin'' before I give up." She chuckled, taking a sip from the wine ss in front of her.</em>


    "<em>That''s bound to get you into trouble one day," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Or right now. Whicheveres first."</em>


    <em>It was just another Thursday night in my apartment. Some soft music was ying over the radio (E Fitzgerald, I think), and the whole ce was bathed in a soft glow from the dozens of lit candles scattered everywhere. Thursdays were one of those days that both of us hated: over the midpoint, but not close enough to the weekend yet to be satisfying. So, we always tried to do something to make things just a little bit more interesting. I''d cooked us a nice meal  one of my world famous pasta dishes  and Tuera had suggested we y a game after: chess. Strip chess. </em>Drunk <em>strip chess.</em>


    <em>Needless to say, I was losing. If we''d been ying strip </em>poker, <em>it''d be a different story, but I could never beat her in chess. She was fully clothed, and I was down to just my boxers and socks.</em>


    "<em>There goes your other bishop," Tuera smiled, plucking the piece off the board and waggling her eyebrows. "You''ll be in checkmate, soon."</em>


    "<em>I''ll be out of clothes long before, I suspect," I said, reaching down to take my socks off  but before I could, tut-tut-ed and waggled a finger at me.</em>


    "<em>Ah-ah-ah," she looked up at me through the raven bangs falling down in front of her face. "Boxers next."</em>


    "<em>Oh,e on!" I said, trying to keep myself fromughing. "You''re really gonna do that? You''re gonna make me be a naked man in socks? A naked man in socks is </em><em><strong>impossible</strong></em><em> to take seriously!"</em>


    "<em>I don''t take you seriously now!" sheughed, urging me to get up and turn around. I sighed, butughed with her. And, let''s be honest... it''s always nice to see her bite her lower lip, no matter the circumstance. "You know, it''s funny... some days I get the feeling you y to lose."</em>


    "<em>Yeah, well, what can I say," I said, tossing my boxers over my shoulder. "Sometimes it''s more fun to lose. You should give it a shot once in a while." I put on the best shit-eating grin I could, and put my hands on my hips to push it to the point of maximum absurdity. Within seconds, she was busting upughing.</em>


    "<em>I love you, Shea. You are such a goofball."</em>


    "Sheason!" a muffled voice cut through the darkness. I tried to move, but something heavy was weighing down on me. I was in pain all over, like I''d been run over by a truck, and at first I wasn''t entirely certain why.


    "Shea! Where are ya?" the voice called again. It felt like a pair of cotton balls had been shoved in my ears. I tried to move again, and felt something shift above me. Was I buried under rubble? Why was I buried under rubble?


    "Over here..." I managed to cough out, followed by a whole lot more coughing. The next thing I knew, some debris was being pulled away and I saw a figure in Riot Gear standing over me. That was Cass, definitely. Her head appeared to be surrounded by a halo of light, and I wasn''t sure why.


    "Oh, thank fuck you''re alright!" Cass said, pushing away more of the rubble, and offering me her hand. "C''mon, get up, we''ve got to go. Boone''s covering the street." I grabbed her by the arm, and she pulled me up and free of the rubble. A serious pressure was lifted from my side, and I suddenly realized that the Jury Rigger had been digging into a gap in my armor. She pped me by the shoulder, and turned. "V! Arcade! I found him, c''mon lets go!"


    "What happened?" I grunted, trying to force down the coughing fit and holding onto Cass for support; that numbing fog from before was starting to lift, and my leg was really hurting now.


    "She tossed you through a fuckin'' skylight, man," Cass said, helping me. I looked up, and realized the broken skylight had been giving her that halo earlier. "We got here as fast as we could, but by the time we showed up, she was long gone."


    "She''ll show up again..." I grunted.


    "What''d you say?" Cass asked. I shook my head, and the two of us kept walking for the door.


    "Nevermind."


    "Well, look on the bright side," she said; I looked up at her, not sure what the bright side was here. "At least we can''t make fun of your Batman ears anymore." I reached up and patted the side of my helmet, and cursed under my breath when I realized one of the antennae had snapped off in the crash.


    "So..." Emily dabbed at the scrape on my forehead, while I repositioned the ice pack on my shoulder. "What''s the n now?"


    "I dunno..." I winced involuntarily as she dabbed the cut with something that seriously stung. "On the one hand, our best leads for finding this Boss have all been butchered, which puts us right back to square one."


    "But it sounds like the Boss is going toe to town anyway," Emily said, failing to conceal her worry. I was right there with her.


    "And that could be worse. A <strong>lot</strong> worse. I''ve gotta find him, and fast..." I shook my head. "I''m not going to let him destroy Freeside."


    "I know you won''t," Emily got up, and moved back to the table where she was keeping all the medical supplies. "So... um..." She cleared her throat. "Who''s Tuera?"


    I grit my teeth.


    "You heard that, huh?" I asked, looking up. She nodded.


    "Yeah. Nobody else did, though. They were too busy rushing to grab all their gear, and I was the only one avable still listening."


    "Well... don''t worry about it," I grunted. "She''s not important." Emily didn''t look convinced.


    "She sounded pretty imp "


    "I was wrong," I said quickly. "It... she can''t be... I was mistaken. I''m just..." I sighed. "I''m seeing ghosts. That''s all."

 Chapter 144: Muons and Mycotics

    Chapter 144: Muons and Mycotics


    <em>I look inside myself and see my heart is ck...</em>


    <em>I see my red door I must have it painted ck...</em>


    <em>Maybe then I''ll fade away and not have to face the facts...</em>


    <em>It''s not easy facing up when your whole world is ck...</em>


    The chill night air blew past me as I stood on one of the Lucky 38''s balconies, looking out at the city below. The lights of New Vegas and Freeside were like a carpet of stars, mirroring the sky. Smoke from my cigarette curled around my head, and the music from the speakers mounted on the walls above me buzzed in my ear. I wasn''t even really listening; I just wanted some background noise...


    <em>Tuera...</em>


    I wasn''t even sure what time it was. I was too busy trying to make sense of things.


    <em>You keep telling yourself that it can''t be her. That the math doesn''t add up.</em>


    I took another long draw, and could practically <em>feel</em> the poisonous smoke destroying my lungs.


    <em>Do you really believe that? Is it really so far fetched?</em>


    My mind had been doing this since I got back to the 38.


    <em>You have to ask yourself... how well did you </em><em><strong>really</strong></em><em> know her? How long did you two even </em><em><strong>date</strong></em><em>?</em>


    I came out onto the balcony to try and collect my thoughts. I thought the fresh air and Rolling Stones would help, but so far they weren''t working.


    <em>Did she ever talk to you about her past?</em>


    So then I started smoking, fucking up the fresh air with carcinogens. That wasn''t working either.


    <em>Did she ever even tell you her </em><em><strongst name</strong></em><em>?</em>


    Okay, seriously. C''mon Shea. Focus. Compartmentalize. You''re just chasing ghosts. What she said on the roof? That was just a coincidence. It doesn''t <strong>mean</strong> anything.


    <em>Then why did she call you Shea?</em>


    Seriously, focus. Put all these thoughts in a box, and then put that box away. Compartmentalize. It''s just a distraction. There''s a bigger issue here: I''m <em>still</em> not fast enough. When shees back again  and she will  you''ve got to be better than you are now to bring her down.


    <em>You''ve got to make yourself better? When have I heard that before?</em>


    Shut up.


    <em>Oh, that''s right. When she left you with no reason and no warning...</em>


    Fuck off.


    <em>You decided you weren''t good enough. You needed to be better.</em>


    SHUT UP SHUT MOUTH SHUT NOW


    Ding.


    It was very early the next morning  not so early that it was still dark, but still early considering howte I''d gotten back. I hadn''t gotten much sleep, and for the first time in... well, okay, for the first time, I honestly wished it had been nightmares keeping me up. I stuck my head out of the elevator and looked around the penthouse cautiously  nobody seemed to be around.


    I made it a whole two feet.


    "You''re up early," Emily said from the bottom of the stairs. Herbcoat was gone, and she was just wearing a t-shirt and jeans.


    "So are you," I nodded at her as she made her way up, calmly sipping her cup of coffee. "Couldn''t sleep?" She shook her head.


    "I don''t really sleep much, anyway. Thought I''d get some work done," she slowly started looking me up and down. "Of course, when I can''t sleep, I don''t strap onbat gear and as many guns as I can find."


    "To be fair," I raised a finger like I was trying to prove a point, despite not actually having one yet. "I have a lot more guns than this. If I tried to carry them all, I wouldn''t be able to move."


    "He really wouldn''t," Sue chimed in, giving Emily a start. "I''ve seen it. His collection of guns is <strong>huge</strong>!"


    "Well, you know what they say about guys with lots of guns..." Emily raised her coffee cup to her mouth, and failed to hide a smirk.


    "They''re constantly getting thrown into deadly firefights and life-or-death situations?" I refused to rise to her bait.


    "I..." Emily paused briefly, and then sighed. "Sure, why not." She looked just a little disappointed. "So, are you all dressed up with nowhere to go, or are you nning on going out somewhere?"


    "Thought I''d head to the Big Empty. Sue says they''re something there that might help me out somewhat." At the words ''Big Empty,'' Emily narrowed her eyes, in that strange mixture of frustration and motherly concern you only get from someone who is <em>definitely </em>annoyed with your antics and officially Done with your shit, but still worried that you might hurt yourself.


    "Are you sure that''s a good idea?" Emily asked, setting her coffee on a nearby table. "For all you know, there are more hostile artificial intelligences waiting for you in that crater. One screw up and we''ll have to clean you up with a mop." Before I got a chance to say anything, Sue beat me too it.


    "Not to worry! We''re going to the Y-15: Applied Muon Sciences facility. The only things in that direction are X-22 and the Forbidden Zone, so I''m sure we''ll be perfectly fine."


    "The... Forbidden... <em>what</em>?" Emily looked up at me curiously. "That sounds really ominous." I shook my head and waved her off.


    "What, did I never tell you? Mobius may be a bit senile," maybe, I didn''t say aloud, "but he''s ultimately harmless. He just gave the X-42 facility the name ''Forbidden Zone'' because he needed something suitably dramatic to keep the Think Tank in line."


    "I... see..." Emily folded her arms across her chest and leaned against a nearby railing. "So, what are you going to try and find in there?"


    "Rocket boots," I dered without ceremony. To her credit, she didn''t seem fazed.


    "I want to say I don''t believe you, but thest month has altered my definition of ''impossible,'' somewhat," she shook her head. "Want some coffee before you go? The pot''s still fresh." She looked up at me with a smile, her sses slipping down the bridge of her nose. I nodded, unsping my helmet and pulling it off my head.


    "Sounds good," I said with a smile. "A bit of caffeine is an essential part of the Sugar-Free Bowl of Insanity''splete breakfast."


    A chill wind howled around me as I made my way across the crater. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small pack of nightstalkers bounding off in the distance; I turned to look just as they disappeared behind a distant hill.


    "So," I finally said aloud, adjusting my grip on the Jury Rigger. "Out of curiosity, how <em>do </em>you know where to find these rocket boots?"


    "Simple!" Sue replied happily. "Barry told me!"


    "Barry? What, the biological research station? <em>That</em> Barry?" Sue made a tiny little "Mmhmm!" noise. "How the fuck would he know where the rocket boots would be kept?"


    "Well, to be fair, it wasn''t just Barry. He knew roughly where it was, but Jeeves provided the specific information. Barry''s personality chip was housed in X-22 for a while, and we''ll have to pass through that facility to get to the adjacent muonbs."


    "Hrmm..." A knot was forming in the base of my gut, and starting to tug. Something was wrong, but I couldn''t put my finger on what just yet.


    "Oh!" Sue eximed suddenly. "I think we''re almost here! Watch your step, please."


    "We''re  wait, what?" I looked around, scanning the horizon. The Forbidden Zone dome was off to my right. The Think Tank dome was behind me. If I remembered correctly, then the weather station in X-17 was hidden in the cliffs somewhere to my left, even though I couldn''t see it. But there didn''t appear to be anything directly in front of me. No buildings, no structures... nothing except a long stretch of empty desert.


    "Seriously! Stop walking!" Sue said, the worry in her voice rising to the surface.


    "Sue? Are you al  WHOA!" Thankfully, I looked down just in time to stop at the edge of a massive cliff. Now that I was standing at the edge, looking down into the yawning abyss, I don''t know how the fuck I managed to miss <strong>that</strong>. It must have been some trick of the light or some kind of optical illusion or something...


    "I did warn you," Sue said.


    "That... you did..." I nodded, looking down at the chasm. I couldn''t see the bottom, but I could see a whole bunch of red crystals embedded in the walls... and arge rectangr structure of metal and concrete buried in the cliff directly opposite where I was standing. I honestly couldn''t tell if had been built like that from the get-go, or if it had been buried underground, and was only exposed because it was this crack in the earth that wasn''t supposed to be here. "Let me guess... that''s X-22?"


    "It certainly is! If the schematics Jeeves gave me are urate, there should be a hatch leading into the underground on the opposite side of the canyon. I think there''s a way across if we skirt the edge for a while and "


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I sailed through the air, the grapnel gun sending me flying through a giant hole in the wall, and Inded inside the building without breaking stride. A small cloud of dust and dirt was kicked up and billowed around my feet, catching in the light filtering down through the top of the canyon.


    "... or, I suppose we could just do that, sure."


    "Yeah, sorry," I shoved the grapnel gun back in my duster. "We don''t really have time for all that."


    I looked around, andpared to most everything else I''d seen in the Big Empty, this ce seemed really... non-descript is probably the best word. It was a ruined building, with grey walls, rubble, dust, dirt, and a few empty doorways that led into the darkened underground. There didn''t seem to be any identifying features of any kind that hadn''t been destroyed by the relentless march of time or the indifferent neglect of man.


    "So, what is the story on this ce?" I asked, advancing on one of the doors slowly. "Any rumors I should know about that will most likely turn out to be true?" A bitte to be asking now, I mused, but whatever.


    "Not as far as I know," Sue answered after a moment''s hesitation. "We''re probably only going to find skeletons. The X-22 Botanical Gardens and Entomopathologybs were one of the few facilities with no automated systems whatsoever."


    I suddenly thought of the many skeletons in the Big Empty, still up and walking around, endlessly repeating thest sentence they said before the hazmat suits took over and turned them into robo-zombie-skeletons.


    "Yeah, that''s not afort, Sue," I said. I peered into the darkness, leading with my rifle. I blinked, and suddenly the interior was awash in green. "So how do we get to the otherb that''s connected to this one?"


    "I believe I can assist sir with navigation," Jeeves'' voice crackled to life in my ear. The next thing I knew, I heard a beeping from my arm; I looked down at my Pip Boy, and the screen had been reced with a rapidly filling progress bar and the words "DOWNLOADING..." The screen shed, and suddenly I was presented with a two-tone map, and a very bright line snaking through it.


    "Well. That''s new," I scanned the map quickly, and made my way into the darkness. "Alright, so you said these boots are in the Muon facility, right? I feel like a bit of an idiot for asking this, but what''s a muon?" I was expecting Sue to answer me, but no.


    "How much time do you have?" Emily''s voice buzzed in my ear.


    "Oh, hey Em! I didn''t know you were still on this frequency." I rounded a corner and came to a set of stairs. "So, what''s a muon?" I heard a sharp intake of breath over the speaker.


    "That''s a simple question with aplicated answer," Emily said. "I could tell you everything I learned about particle physics from the only two intermediate-level physics sses I took at University to try and exin, but that could take <em>days</em> and only scratch the surface."


    "Try me," I shrugged. "I mean, I <em>have</em> built a teleporter, after all." As I started to descend, I noticed something odd: the deeper and deeper I went, the hotter the air seemed to get.


    "Yeah, but you didn''t do the math," she said. "You just built it from the schematics and followed the ns."


    "Okay, yeah, I admit that''s true, but I''m notpletely stupid," I managed to say with a straight face. It''s entirely possible I was distracted. Something odd was going on: the walls were no longer smooth concrete. The nightvision was washing out some of the details, but there was definitely <em>something</em> there, and it wasn''t just a heavy buildup of dust...


    "Alright, let me try and give it to you inyman''s terms..." There was a slight pause, and it sounded like she took a sip of some coffee. "A muon is an unstable subatomic particle, with a mean lifetime of 2.2 microseconds, an electric charge of -1 <em>e</em>, and a mass of 105.7 MeV/<em>c</em>. In the Standard Model of particle physics, it''s ssified as a lepton: particles with a half-spin that aren''t affected by strong nuclear force, but because it''s decay is mediated by the weak interaction exclusively..." I startedughing, and she trailed off.


    "Okay, forgetyman''s terms," I said. "Do you speak <em>English</em>?" She sighed. I think I may have been wearing on her nerves, somewhat.


    "A muon is like an electron, but heavier. I can''t dumb it down any more than that to get to your level, because I''m scared of heights!" I couldn''t help but shake my head andugh more.


    "Fair enough," I rounded another corner. "I guess it''s not really all... that... im... por..." I paused, finally understanding what I had been looking at on the walls. "Oh, fuck me."


    "What?" Emily asked, suddenly concerned. "What''s wrong?"


    The hallway had opened up, and even with nightvision bathing everything in a murky green, I could see nothing but foliage all around. I saw various types of moss, a whole bunch of leafy nts, vines snaking across the floor and walls, the whole nine yards. It was all very familiar, and suddenly everything about where I was and why it had the name ''Botanical Gardens'' clicked in my head.


    "Em? Do you think you can contact the OSI office at Camp McCarran?" I whispered, nting my feet and flicking the safety off my rifle. And just in time, too. At the back of the room, one of the bushes started to move, and I was 99% sure of what was going to happen next.


    "Uh... maybe? I think so. I may have to talk to Boone to get in the base, but "


    At that moment, arge nt that looked like a giant Venus fly-trap rose up out of the bush. Its mouth opened wide, and the air was filled with several spines in the brief seconds before aser bolt lit up the overgrown corridor like a sun  amplified to ridiculous levels by the nightvision. There was a bright sh, and the giant man-eater nt waspletely vaporized, sending chunks of burning ash everywhere.


    "Find Dr. Williams or Keely," I tried to remain calm as I broke into a run and continued on my way to the rocket boots. "I <em>may</em> need another one of those anti-nt virus bombs Keely cooked up down in Vault 22." As I ran, the motion tracker started going nuts. Red blips were appearing all over the ce, and it was apanied by the sound of many growly monsters.


    "You can count on me," Emily said, amidst the sound of shuffling over my headset. "Just... be... Jeeves, can you keep an eye on him? Don''t let him do anything stupid while I''m gone!"


    "I shall do my best," Jeeves'' replied. "But attempting to impede sirs'' ability to cause chaos in the crater is an exercise in futility."


    "It really is," Sue added,pletely unaffected by how close the sound seemed to be getting.


    "I won''t be long," Emily said finally, before I heard a click in my ear. And then, I heard several more clicks from above me... followed swiftly by a vent in the ceiling ahead of me flinging open, and dropping a pair of spore carriers right in my path. They both looked at me with eyeless faces covered in moss, their fungal protrusions sticking out of their backs like rows of spines, and leapt at me with a hissing, clicking gurgle.


    If the hallway had been any wider, it might have taken me two whole shots to turn them into burning mulch.


    "For fuck sake..." I grumbled, running straight through the ash that used to be the spore carriers, and trying my damndest to ignore the sounds of all the others converging on me. "First the Red Cloud, and now <strong>this</strong>! Is there <strong>any </strong>monster or unspeakable horrorin the wastnd that the Think Tank <strong>ISN''T </strong>responsible for creating?!"


    "Motherfuckers!" I ducked under a spore carrier trying to leap at me. "This ce is a fucking maze!" I slid against the moss on the floor, spun on my heel, sted the fungus-zombie when it bashed face-first against the wall, spun again, and kept on going.


    "You''re probably just saying that because the nts are covering every surface, hindering your ability to navigate properly," Sue said, in a surprisingly calm tone of voice. "Theyout on your Pip Boy''s map should still be urate."


    "Yeah, but everything looks different in the dark," I grumbled, sidestepping out of the way of another spore carrier. "Plus, there''s the whole being surrounded by angry nts trying to kill me thing." I reared back with my cybeic fist, and punched it right in the back of its head. It must have been mostly fungus, because it practically exploded in a giant cloud of kes from the waist-up. "That''s a bit of a distraction."


    "Understandable," Sue said, after a moment''s hesitation. I think she was just trying to polite, waiting until after I sted a few more spore carriers and she didn''t have to shout over theser discharge.


    I wasn''t worried about the spore carriers or even the giant man-eater flytrap nts. Those all seemed to be going down without much difficulty. It was the vines that were worrying me. I''d been following the path alright, but a series of vines  like leafy tentacles  had been following me. I couldn''t tell if they were actually <em>moving </em>or if they were just <em>growing </em>so fast, but whatever the method, each tentacle-vine was gaining about an inch a second... and with every corridor, more were flowing in after me.


    Was there another one of those giant hyper-mutant flytrap things down here, like in Vault 22? I suppose it would make a certain amount of sense, if the strains were simr  and I had no reason to believe they <strong>weren''t</strong>. If this was anything like the Red Cloud situation, it was engineered here in the Big Empty as a weapon from the start...


    "Hang on," I said aloud, reaching the end of a corridor. "This isn''t supposed to be closed off..." I looked back down at my Pip Boy, and sure enough, the schematics said there should''ve been a door here  with the Y-15bs just beyond.


    "Heads up," Sue warned me. I looked back down the corridor, and a half-dozen spore carriers were crawling along the floor, walls, and ceiling at me. I flicked the fire-selector.


    CLUNK!


    "Right, where was I?" I turned back to the wall, and several lumps of charred meat copsed in fungal heaps. The entire wall was covered in foliage and vines, but these didn''t seem to be moving. It looked like it had been growing here for some time... I think. It was hard to tell with the nightvision washing out so many details. I ran my hand along the mass of foliage.


    "Of course," I sighed, feeling just a slight give under the nts; I leaned in close, and heard a soft hum. So I reached up, grabbed arge cluster of vines, and started tearing a hole in the wall of nts. A bright light started to shine through the cracks...


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    The wall of nts shuddered, and then copsed to the floor when the support of the force field they''d been growing on had suddenly stopped existing. I momentarily wondered why they had clustered on it so thoroughly. After all, nts are supposed to photosynthesize, right? Maybe the force field was producing enough light for them to


    "I think we need to go," Sue said urgently, bringing me back to reality. I looked back, and saw the vines again  and they seemed to be getting <em>faster</em>. That''s not a good sign.


    "Right you are!" I ducked into the now open door, and just kept going.


    The muonbs were definitely cleaner than X-22, but only in the sense that there weren''t nts everywhere. Every surface was caked in ayer of dust so thick, it almost looked like paint, and giant clouds of dust billowed around me with every slight movement disturbing the air in here.


    "How much farther?" I asked, still checking my corners and keeping my rifle at the ready. There didn''t <em>seem</em> to be anything murderous here, but I could still hear the creaks and groans from X-22, and all those sounds seemed to be getting louder. I think those vines and the spore carriers were trying to follow me.


    "The holding cell should be just around the next bend," Sue responded.


    "Oh yeah?" As I asked, I caught a glimpse of my Pip Boy''s screen shing out of the corner of my eye. I paused, looking down at it more thoroughly: it was cycling through the maps rapidly. Was Sue essing the files? Could... could she <em>do </em>that? Whatever.


    The noises from behind me were getting louder, and I brought my rifle back up. Nothing. Yet. I started backing up, and... wait. No, there <em>was</em> something here, at the end of the hallway,ing around the furthest corner. Vines. Those same vines from before had started to catch up to me.


    "Right, time to go," I followed Sue''s directions as fast as I could, and came to a closed bulkhead. I pped the button, and the hydraulics in the door wheezed, and it disturbed a cloud of dust so massive that I was almost entirely obscured. I rushed in and closed the door behind me.


    "I''m gonna have to change the filter on this helmet soon if I keep running into this crap," I muttered, trying to wave the air clear. When I finally broke through the obscuring haze, I found myself in arge circr room. There were dozens of chalkboards lining the walls  if they had any forms, they were just as obscured by dust as everything else  along with several workbenches covered in tools and books. In the center of the room was a cylindrical pedestal, with a pair of metal boots sitting on top. The boots looked absolutely pristine, because there was a cylindrical forcefield surrounding them, generated by the edges of the pedestal and reaching up to the ceiling.


    "H-uh." I approached it cautiously. "Didn''t know they came in different shapes..." I rapped the back of my knuckles against the forcefield, and it reverberated like I''d hit a piece of sheet metal.


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    "So, these are rocket boots?" I said, grabbing one and turning it around in my hands to get a better look at it. "Lighter than I was expecting..." They appeared to be knee-high boots made out of metal, with a quartet of thrusters ringing the thigh, and arge thruster in the heel. I could see several shock absorbers built into the soles, but I wasn''t quite sure how they were supposed to absorb shocks. There was some kind of box running along the shin that seemed to be wired into everything, and the whole ensemble lookedrge enough to epass a foot already wearing a boot, like rubber rain boots. Or, maybe it was just built for someone with really big feet, I dunno.


    THUD!


    "Uh oh..." Sue said. It sounded like the vines had reached the door, and they were trying to force it open. I grabbed the other boot, and frantically started putting them on.


    THUD!


    "Okay," I snapped as many of the buckles as I could find in ce, and picked up my rifle again. "How do we get out of here? Is there an easier way to the surface?"


    "I..." Sue paused. "I think that door is the only exit."


    <strong>THUD!</strong>


    I startedughing and shaking my head, aiming my rifle at the bulkhead door, hoping that I was ready for when the vines or the spore carriers or whatever finally busted it down. But no.


    CR-R-R-RACK!


    The floor under my feet gave way when severalrge vines like tree trunks burst through. I didn''t even get a chance to say something like "This was unexpected!" before the tendrils wrapped themselves around my lower half and pulled me down through the copsing structure. Broken floors whizzed past my vision, partially obscured by dust and debris, until I was finally dragged down into arge natural cavern.


    "Wh- what is THAT?!" Sue practically screeched. Sure enough, I was caught in the grip of another one of those hyper mutated man-trap nts. Its mouth was open wide, ready for dinner, but I was determined to give it a bad case of indigestion. I flicked the fire selector back to the LAER setting, and fired as many bright energy beams straight down its gullet as I could. It faltered slightly, and severalrge pock-marks were burned into the interior of its mouth, but it was still drawing me in.


    I kept firing, struggling against the vines, and looking around, trying to see if I could find a way out... and then I found it. Above me, I could see a single shaft of light, shining down through a hole in the ceiling. I couldn''t tell how big it was, but that was <em>definitely</em> sunlight!


    I looked back down just in time to see its massive jaws close around me, swallowing me whole.


    For a few seconds, everything was muffled.


    And then, the jaws were forced open, and a gust of air pushed up from under me as the giant carnivorous nt roared in pain. Jets of white-hot energy were pouring out of my boots, setting fire to everything underneath them. The nt-flesh on the inside of its mouth was sh cooked and started belching clouds of smoke, and the vines that had been wrapping themselves around my legs, keeping me pinned, were turned to ash.


    With nothing holding me down anymore, and with the rockets firing at full thrust, I surged up into the sky. I was doing my damndest to aim myself at the hole in the ceiling, but as I wasn''t even entirely certain how I''d activated the damn boots, I was finding it just a little bit difficult. So, I did the next best thing: I reached into my duster, grabbed the grapnel gun, and fired at the edge of the hole. That was much easier to aim.


    The thrusters in my boots cut out, and I was pulled up by the grapnel line. Behind me, I could hear the frustrated bellows and wails of the giant mutant nt, still thrashing around underneath me, trying in vain to reach me. I reached the hole  which was wide enough to shove my car through, as it turned out  and looked up. I was at the bottom of the canyon!


    The jets in my boots kicked in again, and I flew up like I was shot from a gun. The rocky walls whizzed past me as I went faster and faster up until finally, I was <em>free</em>!


    I hovered high in the open air for a few seconds, admiring the view of the Big Empty below me. It was strange. I knew for a fact that this crater contained untold chaos and madness  like the sort I''d just escaped  but from this high up, it seemed... peaceful. You could almost call it serene.


    And then the thrusters unexpectedly cut off.


    "SON OF A BIIIIIIIIII-"


    The world shifted into focus, and the crackling electricity dissipated as I stepped off the teleport tform and into the Lucky 38. The boots reverberated against the floor with a metal ng after every step. Emily was waiting for me; she was wearing her Followersbcoat, this time.


    "Are you alright?" she asked, looking me with concern.


    "Oh, yeah! I''m fine." I said, pulling off my helmet and giving her a grin. Bits of dust and a few flecks of nt matter fell off as I shoved it under my arm like a football. "I got the boots, <strong>and</strong> I didn''t get eaten by carnivorous nts. All in all, I''d say that was a sessful test, wouldn''t you?"

 Chapter 145: Freeside Firefight

    Chapter 145: Freeside Firefight


    "Thanks again," I said, locking the metal box which held the anti-nt virus bomb. Keely just shook her head and waved me off.


    "Don''t mention it," she growled. "Thest thing any of us wants is an outbreak of those fungal spores on the surface..." While she spoke, she adjusted the cor on herbcoat. Apparently, both she and Williams had taken over the OSI offices in Camp McCarran - at least, for the time being. Hildern was nowhere to be seen. That said, Keely didn''t seem <em>entirely </emfortable in herbcoat. "So, where did this happen? Was it close to Vault 22? Do you think the strains are rted?"


    "Well..." I scratched the back of my head. "It''s...plicated. I''m pretty sure I ran into Patient Zero, to be honest..." Keely raised a hairless eyebrow, and I shrugged. "The ce where it happened is pretty isted. I don''t think we''re against the clock on this one..."


    "But better safe than sorry," she finished for me, and I nodded. She paused for a moment, tapping her chin and looking me up and down before finally continuing: "Alright, I''ve gotta ask... what''s with the metal hand?"


    "It''s... uh..." I looked down at my exposed cybeic and reflexively opened and closed my hand several times. "It''s a metal <em>arm </em>actually."


    Keely stared at me, unblinking, for several seconds.


    "You serious?" She asked. I nodded. "What the fuck happened?"


    "Would you believe business as usual?" I said with a shrug.


    Again, Keely stared at me for several seconds.


    "I''m tempted to say I don''t believe you, but that would be a lie. I mean, you''re <em>The Courier</em>. Shit not making sense around you makes a certain amount of sense." She paused. "Sort of."


    "Thanks," I gave her a nervousugh, scratching the back of my neck. "... I think."


    "So, what''s your excuse for the boots?" She pointed down at the pair of rocket boots I was still wearing. "Is that business as usual, too?"


    "Not exactly." I''m not sure she picked up on my unwillingness to borate, because she just kept staring.


    "Where did you even <em>get </em>those, anyway?" She asked, squatting down and leaning in close to get a better look. "Did you loot them from a set of power armor or something?"


    "Sure, let''s go with that." I tried to be as nonmittal as possible. I think it must''ve worked, because she stood back up, shook her head, andughed.


    "Alright, whatever. Keep your secrets. At least you''re keeping yourself busy."


    "Aren''t we all?" I shrugged. I was about to ask her what she''d been doing to keep herself upied when suddenly I was interrupted by the sudden screeching halt of bad news flooding into my ears.


    "Sheason!" Emily yelled over the radio, panic evident in her voice. "We''ve got a problem!"


    "Speaking of, hold that thought, I''ve gotta take this." I held up a hand in front of a suddenly confused Keely. I turned away and tapped the side of my helmet, to make sure the speaker was seated. "Emily? What''s "


    "It''s happening!" she said before I could finish. "It''s sooner than we expected!"


    A knot formed in the pit of my gut.


    "Slow down," I said. "What''s going " Again, I was cut off.


    "Los Zorroz! They''re attacking The Kings!"


    "Shit..." I growled under my breath. I turned back to Keely, grabbed the bomb, and started backtracking to the door. "Thanks for the bomb, but something incredibly urgent hase up, I''ve gotta go."


    "Don''t mention it. Do what you''ve gotta do," she nodded at me, shooing me out of her office. I turned on my heel and ran through the McCarran airport terminal to get back to where my car was parked.


    "I''m on my way," I said to Emily, carrying the box under my arm like a football. "How many are there?"


    "All of them!" she practically shouted.


    The knot in my gut got tighter.


    "All of... all of <em>who</em>?" I asked, fairly certain I knew what wasing next.


    "<strong>ALL </strong>of them! It''s not a skirmish  Los Zorroz are hitting The King''s <em>headquarters</em>! They''ve turned that whole intersection into a <em>warzone</em>!"


    "Fuck!" I popped the trunk, secured the box, mmed the hood closed, and practically jumped into my car. "Alright Em, this is All Hands On Deck! Tell everyone to gear up and load up into the Deuce. I''ll meet them there." My Corvega roared into life, and I peeled away from Camp McCarran leaving a trail of burnt rubber and smoke behind me. "I have a bad feeling we''re gonna need some medical help before this is all over... We''ve gotta get a message to Julie some-" I snapped my fingers. "Yes Man! You listening?"


    "Hi there!" Yes Man''s cheery voice buzzed. "Of course I am! I''m always here for you, sir!"


    "How many securitrons can you spare?" I asked, swerving around a wrecked car near the Vegas sign.


    "How many do you need?"


    I sped into Freeside, practically punching the horn over and over again to get people out of my way. Off in the distance, I could see a huge cloud smoke rising, and that was <em>never </em>a good sign. I rounded thest corner, tires squealing in pain, and I suddenly realized just how much Emily had <strong>NOT </strong>been exaggerating. In fact, calling it a war zone was probably too <em>mild.</em>


    At that precise moment, the top floor corner of the The King''s ce was hit by a rocket  fired from the roof of a building across the street  and the wall exploded in a shower of fire and rubble. The street waspletely filled with people, all of them armed, and all of them shooting at one another. The Freeside sign across the street was in pieces. A few hastily constructed barricades had been set up outside the front of The King''s ce, in a vain and pitiful attempt at defense. Several wrecked cars were being used as cover by both sides, and at least one of the wrecks was still on fire.


    For about half a second, I wondered where the cars hade from  I couldn''t remember those wrecks being there before. Of course, that''s around the time most of the shooters wearing red noticed me, and bullets started ricocheting off my Corvega with loud pings. I knew the armor on my car would hold  just so long as they didn''t hit me with a 50 cal or rockets or anything  so I just put my foot down and aimed my car at a spot between The Kings and Los Zorroz.


    "I hope you guys are close!" I yelled, unsure if they were even still on the radio or not, all while spinning the wheel and yanking on the handbrake. My car started skidding sideways, vomiting tire smoke and screeching loud enough to be heard over all the gunfire.


    I didn''t even wait for the car to stop moving. I popped the door with one hand, grabbed my grapnel gun with the other, and leapt out of the car.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I could hear the sound of bullets whizzing around my head as I flew threw the air, straight at a very surprised looking thug wearing a red bandanna around his mouth and carrying an old Chinese assault rifle. He didn''t look surprised for very long; my metal hand grabbed hold of his head, and he copsed while I flipped around over him. My metal boots hit the ground with a ng, and I poured all of my inertia into the iling sack of limbs in my grip.


    "WAAUUGHHH!" he screamed incoherently, tumbling through the air, straight into another Los Zorroz thug, and both of them crashed into a nearby window and out of sight. I shrugged the Jury Rigger into my hands and spun around, slipping into VATS.


    "What the fuck?! Who is that?" I heard somebody shout between LAER sts.


    "Who cares?! Shoot him!" Someone else yelled. I grabbed the grapnel still stuck to the wall, pulled it free, shouldered my rifle, and aimed the grapnel at the roof. A figure emerged over the side, and I could tell from the silhouette: it was the dude carrying the rocketuncher.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I flew straight up, just as a rocket screamed past my head. An explosion buffeted the air behind me and just as I was about to reach the top, I felt a sudden surge of eleration. The jets in my rocket boots had kicked in again. I still wasn''t entirely certain how I was activating them, but right now I wasn''t going to question it.


    I reached the top and kept hold of the grapnel; the boots spun my legs around like I was stuck to a pinwheel. The rocketuncher dude was so busy trying to reload that he didn''t see meing. He went flying straight off the roof with a yell, having been knocked off either by the metal-d boot kicking him in the face, or because he was hit with rocket exhaust.


    I detached the grapnel, twisted around, and nted my boots on the roof; the jets had turned off just as suddenly as they''d turned on. Two more red-d thugs were on the roof, and I slipped back into thefortable feeling of VATS.


    "Get hi " is all one of them managed to say before I shot them both with Roscoe. I broke into a run and passed them before either of them even hit the floor. I holstered Roscoe, shrugged the Jury Rigger back into my hands, and leapt off the roof. I started firing the LAER at every target I could find while I dropped like a rock back down to the street.


    Right before Inded, the jets in my boots kicked in again. It slowed my descent <em>just </em>enough, and I started hovering a few feet above the street. I shifted my weight around, and I started spinning in midair, sending bright blue energy sts in every direction. The jets cut out, and Inded with a heavy metal ng.


    Thisck of a proper n seemed to be working, if nothing else. All the thugs wearing red had no idea who I was or what was going on, but they knew I was a threat. They were focusing on me, and that seemed to be causing just enough chaos to let The Kings regroup and reload.


    "Sheason!" I heard Cass'' voice in my ear. "We''re on our way! Where are you?!"


    "The fuck is taking you guys so long?!" I yelled, popping off a few more shots. The energy meter on the side of the rifle was blinking red; it was finally out and needed a few seconds to recharge. I tapped the side of my helmet with my cybeic hand. "I''m keeping them busy for now, but one of them is bound to get "


    <strong>BANG!</strong>


    I saw stars, and I copsed in a heap against the ground. My ears were ringing like someone had shoved a metal bucket over my head and hit me with a sledgehammer. I wasn''t entirely certain which way was up.


    "Augh, fuck me!" I said, even though I couldn''t hear myself. My vision stopped spinning. My cybeic hand was right in front of me: a smashed and still smoking rifle bullet was lodged against the back of it. I didn''t wait for my head to clear properly before I pushed off against the ground and rolled; the ground where I''d beenying sparked with a ricochet. Finally I got a good look  there! A sniper was on the roof across the street! I pulled out the grapnel and aimed...


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    Once again, I found myself flying through the air, moving too fast for them to even shoot. The red-d sniper aiming at me backed up, with no idea what was happening. The grapnel drew me in, but it was the rocket boots kicking in thatunched me over the edge. I grabbed the barrel of his rifle just as he fired  making him shoot wide  and just kept going. I did my best to ignore the massive ringing still going on in my ears,nded, spun around, and hit him in the back using the rifle like a club.


    Off in the distance, I could see the Deuce barreling down Vegas Boulevard. I looked back down to the spot on the street I''d been shot, and saw the Jury Riggerying there, discarded. I leapt off the roof, angling my feet so they aimed at the wall. The jets kicked in and propelled me right over the road. I reached down right before the jets turned off, snatched the rifle off the ground, and rolled,nding on my feet and looking for another target.


    "Something''sing!" I heard Veronica say; the ringing was starting to fade. The Deuce was parked right in front of The King''s ce, and they were fanning out. It seemed like all those Los Zorroz mooks were dropping like flies... except for the pair armed with rifles that ran around the corner, straight at me.


    "What''sing?" I asked, trying to fire... but nothing. It was still out of charge.


    I suddenly heard the sound of a roaring engine. It was getting louder and louder, and... Wait! I <em>recognize </em>that engine!


    The two Los Zorroz thugs took aim... but before they got a chance, a blur of chromed metal rounded the corner. Before they knew what was happening, a machete hade out of nowhere, and the two thugs were deprived of their heads.


    "RAUL!" I cheered, watching as the motorcycle skidded to a halt. The mustachioed ghoul grinned at me under his sombrero. The Jury Rigger beeped, and I took aim at a thug behind Raul trying to get a bead on him; he pulled a shotgun out of a holster on his chopper, and took aim at, presumably, a target behind me. The two of us fired at the same time.


    "We havin'' fun yet, Boss?" he said with augh, revving his engine.


    The next few minutes were pretty hectic, to be sure. But with everyone  even Raul  here, we made short work of things. The ground was littered with spent shells and dead bodies, and there were plenty of fires still burning... but the shooting had stopped, if nothing else. Several securitrons were rolling around the area, searching for civilians, trying to secure the area, and attempting to put out some of the bigger fires.


    "So, you''re still keeping busy, I see," Raul said as the two of us made our way to The King''s ce. I nodded, surveying the carnage; the sign above the door was broken, and several of the letters were missing.


    "You got here just in the nick of time. How''d you know to get here when you did?" I asked. Raul shrugged.


    "I''ve been fighting these pendejo jerk-offs, just like you, Boss. The Ghost Vaquero has been beating them back, one block at a time. Besides," he pped me on the shoulder andughed. "I heard the sound of gunfire and explosions, and just followed that. I figured you''d be in the middle of things, same as always."


    "Fair enough," I nodded. "It''s good to see you again, man." Suddenly, a bark caught my attention, and I turned in time to see Roxie bounding around the wreckage, headed straight for me. She still had a few scraps of bloody red cloth hanging out of her toothy maw.


    "Hey girl!" I knelt down, giving Roxie a pat and trying to untangle the cloth from her teeth. "Here, let me help you out with that..."


    "Well, well, well," Cass walked up to the two of us, with her AA-12 resting against her shoulder. "Look what the cat dragged in."


    "Yeah," Raul smiled broadly, with a mouth full of yellow teeth. "A red-headed irish gal with a shotgun." The two of them startedughing, and I looked around. Boone was perched on top of the Deuce still keeping a lookout, Veronica was helping some of the securitrons clear away some of the bigger pieces of rubble, and Arcade had rushed into The King''s ce to see to some of the wounded... but there was a noticeable absence.


    "Hey, uh..." I stood up, still absentmindedly petting Roxie. "Where''s Stripe and Sasha? I would''ve thought this kind of fight was right up their alley." Raul furrowed his brow and looked at me curiously.


    "Stripe? Sasha? Who?" He scratched at the back of his scabby scalp, confused. Cass just started chuckling grimly.


    "Hey, if <em>you </em>want to wake up a sleepin'' deathw, yer wee to try, man," Cass said, shaking her head. "But I sure as fuck ain''t gonna risk it!" Raul took a step back, looking incredulously at the two of us.


    "A... sleeping... <em>what</em>?" He sighed, burying his face in his hand. "Damnit, Boss! What have you got yourself into this time?"


    Before I got the chance to answer, a rumbling engine sounded off behind me. I turned around, and saw arge white van barreling down the street, swerving around the wreckage and slowing down as it got close to The King''s ce. The Followers of the Apocalypse logo was painted on the side. The door on the side slid open, and several Followers doctors jumped out, carrying medical equipment and doctors bags.


    "He''s in here!" Arcade yelled from the door. "Come quick!"


    "Aw, hell," a familiar southern drawl wafted out of the darkened interior. "Stop fussin'' over me, I''m fine!" The King emerged out of the darkness, looking a lot worse for wear. He was bleeding heavily from several wounds, he was covered in dirt, grime, and ash, and I''m pretty sure he was only standing because of the two men on either side of him holding him up. As the three of them stumbled forward, Rex emerged, trotting alongside and staring up at his master, whimpering. "See to my boys first. A lot of ''em are hurt worse than me!" Considering that the two guys helping him walk looked just as wounded as the King, I could believe that.


    "Don''t worry," one of the doctors said. "More help is on the way."


    The doctors got to work, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. For a while, I''d been worried my message hadn''t gotten to Julie and the other Followers. Speaking of which, I heard a wheel squeaking behind me. Sure enough, a securitron was approaching  but, surprisingly, it had Yes Man''s face.


    "Hi there!" Yes Man said, his tone of voice making him seem oblivious to the carnage all around him. "I have some interesting news!"


    "Yeah? What''s up?" Cass and Raul crowded around behind me, but Roxie had stopped nuzzling into my hand; she had trotted over to Rex and the King.


    "A few of my securitrons have, well, <em>secured</em> some surviving gang members!" Yes Man proimed happily. "They were out of ammunition, so it was a trivial matter!"


    "What, they just gave up?" Cass asked. Yes Man''s screen flickered.


    "Sort of!" It was just as cheery as everything else he ever said, but somehow he was able to inject a terrifying undercurrent of menace into his words...


    I peered into the room cautiously. A figure wearing a red shirt was hunched over and tied to a chair, while a securitron hovered around nearby with one of its gun arms trained on him. I turned to Cass and Raul.


    "Well..." I said. "What do you think? He might be able to tell us something."


    "We could try the old good-cop, bad-cop routine on him, Boss," Raul said. "Try and get some information out of him that way."


    "Personally, I prefer bad-cop, <em>worse</em>-cop," Cass said, smashing her fist in her other palm. "So, we gonna put th'' squeeze on him, r''what?"


    "Nah..." I said, tapping my chin. "Beating on somebody for info is useless. Hurt them enough, they''ll say <em>anything </em>just to get it to stop."


    "You sure?" Cass asked, confused. "That shit always works in the movies."


    "Yeah, and that''s the <strong>only</strong> ce it works..." I tapped my chin, and smiled as an idea started forming. "But I think I might have a way to get him to talk."


    "Oh yeah?" Raul asked. "How''s that, Boss?"


    "Psyche him out. All I have to do is tell him <em>exactly</em> who I am, and <em>exactly</em> what I can <strong>do</strong>. Let him know  in excruciating detail  <em>exactly</em> what he''s in for if he doesn''t cooperate." I shrugged. "If I''m right, I won''t have toy a finger on him."


    Turns out, I was right.


    "Holy fuck, man..." Cass looked in the room after I finished. The thug was still shaking, still tied to the chair and sitting in a pool of his own piss. "What''d you <em>say</em> to him?" I shrugged.


    "Not that much, to be honest. Just telling him I''m The Courier made him start to crack."


    "So what''d he tell you, Boss?" Raul asked, tipping his sombrero back. "Anything useful?"


    "This attack on The Kings was ast-ditch effort, but they were still expecting to win. Their n was to take out the King, level his ce, and then regroup at Cerulean Robotics."


    "I think I know that ce," Raul said. "It''s an old factory, over near the train station, isn''t it?" I nodded.


    "That''s what it sounded like. And that''s where The Boss is holed up  I think. He didn''t say for sure, one way or another, but that''s where they were gonna get new orders. I''ll bet you any money that''s where we''re gonna find that Boss. Whoever he is."


    Assuming the information is even good, I thought to myself.


    "Man," Raul whistled, shaking his head. "These Foxes sure are crafty, aren''t they?"


    A knot started tugging in my gut again.


    "Wait, what?" I asked. "Foxes? What foxes?"


    "Los Zorros. The Foxes. I mean, yeah, they spell it with a z, but it''s still Spanish, Boss." He stared at me curiously. "What, did you not know that?"


    "No..." I said, my mind racing. "No I..."


    An image shed in my mind from... fuck, it felt like <em>years </em>ago. Back when we went to Cottonwood Cove. When I dressed up as a Legionnaire, and tried to sneak into Caesar''s Fort across the Colorado River...


    <em>"That is not for you to know," I said as forcefully as I could from behind the cloth in front of my mouth. "This report is for the eyes and ears of Vulpes Inculta only, until he tells me otherwise." I pulled the machete from my belt. "I could tell you... but then I''d have to slit your throat."</em>


    <em>To his credit, he didn''t flinch. He just stepped to the side, and gestured an arm to let me pass. I sheathed the machete and walked off the dock. As I passed, the Legion soldier called back: "You certainly speak like one of The Fox''s men. No respect for honorablebat."</em>


    "Vulpes..." I growled, finally putting the picture together. "Son of a bitch..."


    "What?" Cass asked.


    "I know who their boss is..." I said, shaking my head. "Vulpes... The Legion Fox! It all makes sense now! The name, the red clothing, the brutality, the very... it all makes sense! All this time, and we''ve <em>still</em> just been fighting Caesar''s Legion!"

 Chapter 146: Occupational Hazard

    Chapter 146: upational Hazard


    "Alright Boss," Raul leaned against a nearby wall, keeping himself hidden from sight. "So, what''s the n?"


    "I go over there, and give Vulpes a piece of my mind, that''s what," I said, staring at Cerulean Robotics through a pair of binocrs.


    Cass, Raul, Boone, and I were inside the top floor of one of the abandoned buildings adjacent to Cerulean Robotics. We weren''t on the roof, because Yes Man was directly controlling a nearby securitron, and that giant metal box with a TV for a face would''ve drawn way too much attention out in the open. Arcade and Veronica, on the other hand, were back with Julie, Emily, April, and the other Followers cleaning up the mess and giving aid to the wounded. Speaking of which...


    "Hey, Yes Man?" I turned to the robot; his face screen flickered. "What''s the status on the search and rescue?"


    "It''s going swimmingly!" Yes Man beamed proudly. "Half of the securitrons allocated to the task are still busy clearing away the bigger pieces of rubble, but the rest are putting out fires, scanning for civilians, and providing aid so Julie and the others can focus on medicine! And boy  am I d I''m not helping with that!" He lifted up a w-arm, and clicked it open and closed several times. "These ham-hands aren''t suited for delicate surgery, but that''s okay! I don''t mind!"


    "Good," I nodded, turning back to the window. "The sooner we get that mess cleaned up, the better. Do you think you can spare a few to create a perimeter around this ce?"


    "Oh, I already did <em>that</em>!" Yes Man waved a w arm at me, almost dismissively. "As soon as I knew this is where we were going, I pulled a few extraneous guards from the Lucky 38 interior! They''ve encircled the area, and are already scanning for Stealth Boy signatures!" Cass looked at Yes Man curiously.


    "Since when d''you take that kinda initiative?" She asked. Yes Man shrugged  in as much as a securitron <em>can </em>shrug, at any rate.


    "Since that bug in my programming got fixed a week ago," he replied, matter-of-factly. I pulled a straight face, trying not to give away that this was news to me... and then I thought about it. A week ago... that wasst Sunday. And I''d spent all ofst Sunday (and quite a bit of Monday morning) in The Divide.


    No wonder I''d missed that piece of news.


    "Even so, don''t get too close unless you have to," I said, checking my rifle. "If he figures out he''s been made before I get in there, he might get spooked and try to run."


    "You sure you don''t want us toe in with you, Boss?" Raul asked. It was almost like he''d never left. "More guns are always better for backup, after all." I shook my head.


    "I''m gonna need you guys out here, in case he manages to escape." I looked over to Boone, and gave him a nod; he responded in kind, hefting the anti-materiel rifle.


    "I''ll do my best to give you cover, regardless," he grunted. "But those walls look thick. You go in too deep, and the 50 might not even reach."


    "Well, do what you can," I clicked the button on my belt. A rainbow miasma enveloped me, and I shifted into invisibility. "If hees out before me, cut him in half."


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    My invisible form sailed through the air, and I vaulted into the roof. Part of me wanted to just waltz into the front door, because hey  invisibility, right? But Vulpes was probably watching the front door, waiting for the mooks he''d sent to squash The King toe back. It would make much more sense to go in through the roof. Almost every single building in Freeside had rooftop ess or a skylight or a big fuckoff hole somewhere.


    Sure enough, this abandoned factory sitting in the middle of Freeside had one of those sawtooth roofs, so there were <em>plenty </em>of windows up here. It didn''t take long before I found a broken one, and I slipped quietly inside, dropping down onto one of the catwalks.


    <strong>CLANNNG!</strong>


    Oh. Right. I''m wearing big heavy metal rocket boots, dropping down onto a metal catwalk.


    There was a loud, screechy feedback noise that echoed through the darkened factory, and I immediately grabbed hold of my rifle. That sounded like a PA system, which could only mean...


    "Well, well..." Vulpes voice, just as aggravatingly refined as it had been when I''d first heard it months ago. "So, you finally arrived... <em>profligate</em>." He paused before thest word, probably working from the assumption that it was some sort of shock. And yes, I suppose it <em>would</em> have been, had Raul not been around.


    "Vulpes," I growled, moving forward into the darkness. "Are you gonnae out of your hidey-hole and face me, or am I gonna have to <strong>level the building </strong>first?" Vulpes started to chuckle, and the sound echoed throughout the factory.


    "Amusing. But your hollow bravado will not serve you here."


    <strong>CLUNK!</strong>


    Suddenly, the light spilling in from the windows above my head vanished, and I was plunged into the pitch ck of abject darkness. All around me, I could hear the sounds of machinery being activated one by one. Large mechanical metal arms, rusted from two centuries of disuse, ground against one another as they slowly and sluggishly returned to life.


    "<em>Hollow</em> bravado?" Sue whispered, as I switched on my nightvision and made my way across the catwalk. "I''ve seen you blow up things a <strong>lot</strong> bigger than this ce. Does he not know who you <em>are</em>?" I stifled a snicker.


    "Yeah, well, thest time he saw me, I got my ass kicked," I whispered back. "I had all my limbs back then. And all my organs. And my real eyes." I patted the 9 millimeter on my hip. "The heaviest artillery I was packing was Roscoe and That Gun."


    The next thing I knew, the catwalk I was on shuddered, and it swiftly tipped, dropping into a very steep angle and causing me to slide down. I was briefly reminded of my adventure the other day with the power mad AI, and how she constantly shifted the environment to screw with me.


    "You have proven yourself quite the nuisance, profligate," Vulpes voice echoed above me as Inded at the bottom. "It will be very satisfying to finally see you fail." I was deposited unceremoniously onto a moving conveyor belt, surrounded on all sides by mechanical arms in motion, with a couple of moving protectrons advancing on me from the darkness.


    "<strong>TAR-GET AC-QUI-ERD,</strong>" one of them actually managed to say before I vaporized them both.


    "Don''t tell me," I said, loud enough to be heard over the heavy machinery on the conveyor belt that I was ducking under and weaving around. "All this nonsensical business with Los Zorroz was just to get at me to try and bring me down, right?"


    "Don''t tter yourself!" Vulpes spat into the microphone. "That gang of degenerates has been a useful tool, but you were never their goal. You''re just a target of opportunity  a fly buzzing around The Colosseum, just <em>asking</em> to be squashed."


    "Really," I said tly, jumping off the conveyor belt right before a massive tform dropped from above. It smashed into the conveyor, sending shards of metal flying. "Then tell me, honestly  what were you trying to aplish? Because I can''t figure it out!" Vulpes then startedughing.


    "Once again, you prove your ignorance! Very well. Allow me to educate your feeble mind. It''s the least I can do for you in your final moments..."


    <em>Hot damn!</em> I thought to myself. <em>I''ve actually got him monologuing!</em>


    "What is he " Sue began, but I very quickly shushed her, slipping into a side corridor as another pair of protectrons emerged, looking for me.


    "The Legion has been busy on this side of the Colorado, preparing the ground for our inevitable victory. Sacking Nipton and Nelson, flooding the town of Searchlight with radiation and ghouls,shing the NCR''s pitifully ipetent soldiers to crosses for the entire world to see... these acts of terror to demoralize the enemy are mere sideshow distractions. But this town, Vegas  the future Nova Roma  has always been the goal. It will be the magnificent jewel in Mighty Csar''s crown."


    I passed under another series of conveyor belts as he thered on and on. A mechanical arm swung perilously close to my head, and would''ve taken it off if I hadn''t managed to duck. I pulled myself up through a nearby floor vent, and found myself in a nearby control room. The switchboard was active and lit up, and even with the nightvision washing everything in a sickly green, I could tell  quite a lot of dust had been disturbed, very recently. Vulpes had been here.


    "But that still doesn''t make sense," I said, grabbing hold of my rifle and cautiously leading with it as I made my way down the next hallway. "If you want to ''take'' Vegas, why make a gang that just causes chaos? What purpose does that serve?" Again, Vulpes chuckled.


    "I did not create them, profligate. I found them... and repurposed them. Two years ago, they were a small group. Two dozen thugs, calling themselves the... Devilz." He groaned in disgust. "Theycked vision. Theycked purpose. So I gave it to them."


    Ahead of me, a panel on the wall opened up, and a turret emerged. I ducked behind a nearby pir, and the hallway was briefly lit up by muzzle shes and tracer rounds. It shot off several bursts of machinegun fire... and then it exploded when Iunched myself out from behind the pir, vaporizing it with a LAER st.


    "Oh, I get it now." I said, calm as you like. "You probably promised them a spot in the Legion if they could clear out Freeside for you, right?"


    "You fool!" Vulpes cackled. "I never <em>told</em> them that they were working for the Legion! They never suspected, and even if they <em>had</em>... even if I had given them the false hope of admittance, like Karl gave to the Great Khans, these degenerate psychopaths would <strong>never</strong> have been inducted into the mighty Legion! Their continued insistence on using all that stolen technology made them weak... and sealed their own doom!"


    I looked around the factory  at all the moving parts and the robots looking for me and the turrets blindly searching for me  and I just wanted tough.


    "And you''ve been doing, what, exactly?" I asked. "You''re using advanced technology to try and kill me right now! And, as I recall, you''re quite the fan of stealth boys - more pre-war tech, forbidden by Caesar! What, does the word ''irony'' not trante terribly well into Latin?"


    "How very droll... but very <strong>wrong</strong>." Vulpes scoffed, apparently unaware that he didn''t answer the question.


    "So how do you go about exining all this, you fucking hypocrite?" I yelled, trying to rile him up with the truth. He snorted again.


    "I do not bore my lord Csar with the details of my operations. When he wishes something done, then I act out his will, and I will make it happen. He does not care <em>how</em> I aplish my tasks. His only concern is that I get <em>results</em>."


    "Didn''t seem that way when I had my unpleasant ''chat'' with that bald, big-nosed bastard motherfucker..." I said under my breath, shaking my head. I cleared my throat and yelled back. "Alright, so if they were never gonna join the Legion, then what was the point?"


    "My ns for them were to foster their own destructive capabilities," Vulpes spoke slowly, in the same tone of voice one would use with a child. "They were to do what came naturally  terrorize the... <em>people</em>... living in this slum. They would be hated and feared. I would use them as pawns, making them strong enough that none of the unwashed masses would <em>dare </em>stand against them. I made them into the monsters I <em>needed </em>them to be..."


    "But why?" I asked, dropping down into a cluster of protectrons led by a Mr. Gutsy and turning them into ash or burning g without so much as taking a scratch. "This still doesn''t make sense."


    "Only because youck vision," Vulpes responded. "I know where they operate. I know how many there are. What kind of weapons they use. I know everything about Los Zorroz... so when the timees, and the Legion crosses the Colorado River in force, marching on Vegas? We would know <em>exactly </em>where to strike. We would cleanse this town of filth, removing a rampant gue of violent degenerates! The day the Legion arrives would mark the end of a violent gang that had been terrorizing the citizens for <em>years</em>!"


    And just like that, it all made sense.


    "You wanted to make the Legion look like brave heroes instead of a conquering army of vers!" I said aloud.


    "That''s right," Vulpes practically cooed.


    "And you honestly think people would''ve fallen for that?!" I asked, almostughing at the absurdity. Off to my side, another panel in the wall opened up; I didn''t even bother to look at the turret, offhandedly blowing it to pieces. "It doesn''t really matter now. That attack on The Kings ce failed! The King is still alive, and they''re all <strong>dead</strong>! It only took me a WEEK to dismantle what took you <strong>two years</strong> to build!"


    "A minor inconvenience, profligate," Vulpes snorted loudly into the mic. "They were always destined for the axe, and have merely met their end sooner than expected. Just... like... you."


    <strong>CLUNK!</strong>


    There was a bright, blinding sh, and I shut my eyes, quickly switching them from nightvision back to normal. I found myself sandwiched between a pair ofrge boxes  almost like metal shipping crates  and the roll up doors on them both opened with a cacophony of heavy metal tters.


    "<strong>WEAPONS FREE.</strong>" Both sentry bot''s said in unison, rolling out of the containers on their heavy tank-tread wheels and aiming their massive weapons at me.


    "Good idea!" I retorted. Suddenly, the jets in my rocket boots kicked in and I was propelled straight up. There was a burst of sound below me, and I looked down just in time to see both robots firing all of their weapons  into one another. Sparks flew through the air, and I sent down a pair of Pulse bursts, aimed square at the weak points in their heads. Both tank bots spasmed violently,plete with parts of their chassis exploding from the inside out. The rockets cut off, and by the time Inded with the heavy <strong>CLANG</strong> of metal on metal, both robots had been reduced to smoking piles of scrap.


    "Hm," Vulpes grunted, obviously disappointed.


    <strong>CLUNK!</strong>


    I sighed as the lights cut out again. I blinked my nightvision back on and kept going. I looked around, and saw another catwalk above my head.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "Okay, Vulpes... I''ve gotta ask..." I said, vaulting onto the catwalk. "What do you honestly think is going to happen here? How do you <em>possibly </em>think this is going to end?"


    "Don''t get too overconfident, profligate," Vulpes growled. "You may have survived so far, but you''re still trapped in here." I couldn''t hold back anymore. I just busted upughing. "What  what are youughing at?!"


    "I''mughing at you, fuckhead!" I paused in myughter to wheel around, sting a Mr. Gutsy trying to get the drop on me by hovering up from below. "Remind me  and, please, be honest with me. All of those assassins you''ve sent after me: how many have I killed? I''m seriously asking! I''ve lost track, there''s been so many! <strong>None</strong> of them have seeded! They''ve all been sent back in bags, riddled with holes!"


    "What''s your point?" Vulpes growled, clearly getting more and more agitated.


    "I''m not locked in here with <strong>you</strong>," I snarled up at the ceiling, myughter turning dark. "You''re locked in here with <strong>me</strong>!"


    I looked around, switching my eyes to thermal, to see if I could find Vulpes. Unfortunately, there were so many moving parts and so many robots still active that trying to iste a single, vaguely humanoid head signature in this mess would''ve been impossible. I switched back to nightvision, and kept going  if I goaded him enough, he might actually get pissed off enough to face me...


    "I faced off against mad scientists, mutants, madmen and monsters, Vulpes. The only thing they share?" Apart from an added alliterative appeal, I thought to myself. "They all thought they could beat me, and they were all <strong>wrong</strong>. I''ve survived things that would''ve killed anyone else, and if these pathetic robots and predictable traps are the best you can throw at me, then you''ve already lost!"


    I heard a soft, barely audible footfall on the catwalk behind me. Between my yelling at the ceiling and all the heavy thuds and clunks of machinery and robots all around, he must have thought he was quiet enough not to be heard. So I stayed still. I didn''t want to give away that I knew he was behind me, just yet...


    "You''re just a mortal man, profligate," I heard Vulpes'' voice from the speakers, rather than behind me; no wonder I couldn''t find him. He''d kept the mic with him, and he was moving around the factory as well. "Even if I believed your boasting  which I don''t - one careful strike is all it will take to end your life... and prove that you are merely flesh and blood!"


    I dropped the Jury Rigger at my feet and wheeled around, with my cybeic hand open wide.


    <strong>CLANG!</strong>


    I was face to face with a very surprising looking Vulpes  decked out in his Legion armor, and still holding onto his dius. It looked like he''d been trying to stab me in the back, but the de hade to a dead stop. I was holding onto it firmly with my cybeic hand, and he was staring at me, in ck-jawed disbelief.


    "Less flesh that you think," I said, wrapping my fingers around the de and keeping it still.


    "... What <em>are </em>you?" Vulpes practically breathed, ovee with terror.


    "I''m the Courier," I said closing my fist as firmly as I could; the de cracked and shattered beneath my grip. "And this city is under <strong>my </strong>protection."


    He stumbled forward, caught off guard by his sword being unexpectedly broken. I twirled the broken de around in my hand, and jammed it straight into his unprotected neck. He started to scream, but it was drowned out by the gurgle of his throat filling up with blood, and his windpipe being blocked with steel. He wobbled unsteadily, arterial blood spurting out from under the de and his eyes rolling around in their sockets,pletely unfocused.


    "Have I made my point?" I said, smirking behind my helmet.


    He gurgled.


    I gave him a gentle shove, and he toppled backward off the catwalk. His lifeless body tumbled into the factory, disappearing into the darkness. For a few seconds, I stood there in silence. And then...


    "That was terrible," Sue said. I shrugged.


    "Well, of course that was terrible. It''s a post-mortem one liner. It <em>has</em> to be a bad pun."


    I kicked open the front door of the factory, and calmly walked out.


    "It is officially all clear, guys!" I yelled, holding up the bup sack I was carrying so everyone could see. "You cane out now!" Within minutes, Cass, Boone, Raul, and one of the Yes Man securitrons emerged, while half a dozen other securitrons flooded in from various side streets, and made a beeline for the front door.


    "I take it you were... sessful?" Cass asked, cautiously eyeing the sack. She must have noticed the red stain dripping out of the bottom.


    "Oh, definitely," I said with a smile, tossing the bag onto the ground with a wet thud. "Vulpes won''t be getting <em>ahead </em>in life any more, let me tell you!"


    "Enough with the puns already!" Sue squeaked in frustration. I sighed, rolling my eyes.


    "Alright, fine, fine. Spoilsport. In any event, hopefully this means no more random assassins popping up when I least expect it to try and take a poke at me." I paused, and turned to Boone, pointing at the bag. "Do you think we might be able to get a reward if we send his head to Camp McCarran? I mean, those Fiend leaders were worth some cash, so the leader of Caesar''s spies and assassins might definitely be worth something." Boone nodded.


    "Worth a shot," Boone grunted out. "Personally, I''d rather send it back to <em>Caesar</em> in a box. Full of scorpions." I startedughing.


    "We''ll call that n B, how''s that?" I asked. Boone seemed pleased with that.


    "So... you feel better, Boss?" Raul asked, folding his arms over his chest and nudging the sack with his boot.


    "Absolutely," I reached up, and unclipped my helmet, breathing in the fresh air for the first time in several hours. "I am getting'' kinda hungry, though. Wanna go get pancakes?"


    All of them  even Yes Man  just stared at me nkly. I nodded, grabbing the head-bag and walking past them.


    "I''m gonna go get pancakes."

 Chapter 147: Tidying Up

    Chapter 147: Tidying Up


    FREE


    Those were the only letters left on the Freeside sign. There were plenty of other telltale indications of yesterdays shootout all around this intersection  bullet riddled building that were ckened from gunpowder and sttered with blood, a few fresh craters on the street to rival the other potholes, a few securitrons rolling up and down the boulevard on a new patrol  but the broken sign was the most obvious.


    I turned around and looked back at the ruined walls of The King''s ce.


    Okay, it was the <em>second</em> most obvious.


    "Inspecting your handiwork?" I heard a voice call out from somewhere behind me. I turned around to see Julie Farkas leading a group of Followers doctors out of a van; almost all of them were carrying bags and boxes of medical equipment. I justughed nervously, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder at the massive hole in the upper floors of The King''s ce.


    "It was like that when I got here," I insisted. Julie let out a single snortingugh and nodded. "So, what brings you back this way?" I asked. "I thought you''d all still be at the Mormon Fort, patching up people."


    "We''ve run out of room," Julie admitted, with an almost audible shame. "The King is graciously letting us use his building as a sort of impromptu medical center. After all... most of the people were wounded around here, anyway." Julie sighed, and gave a weak smile. It wasn''t a forced smile, like what I was used to with Veronica, it was just...


    Tired.


    "It never ends, does it?" I asked, turning back to the sign. Julie nodded.


    "There aren''t enough hours in the day," Julie added in agreement. The doctors behind us were hard at work, and the two of us stood there, staring at the broken sign in silence for a few seconds.


    A nagging question was gnawing at the back of my mind. It was a question that had been bothering me since the adrenaline and the rush of victory had worn off yesterday...


    "How many?" I asked, breaking the silence. "How many people got hit? Caught in the crossfire, or... y''know. Died. How many?" Julie looked up, running a hand along the fuzz on her head to the right of her mohawk.


    "Including Los Zorroz?" she asked.


    "I don''t care about Legion," I growled, hoping that would be enough.


    "10 dead. 53 wounded. Mostly ricochets, but a few are really serious."


    "Fuck," I grumbled, shaking my head. "I''m sorry."


    "Why? What are you sorry for?"


    "I dunno," I said with a sigh. "I just... I should''ve shown up sooner. And, well, more than that, I feel kind of responsible for what happened." Julie looked at me like I was crazy. "No, I''m serious. If I hadn''t hammered those fuckers so hard and so fast, then they might not have gotten so desperate. They wouldn''t have thrown all their weight into ast-gasp attack, and all this carnage could''ve been avoided."


    "If you hadn''t pushed them so hard, they''d still be here, causing chaos." Julie said softly. "Getting rid of them was probably the best thing that''s happened to Freeside in a very long time." It was my turn to look at her curiously, now.


    "I''m surprised to hear <em>you</em> advocating violence," I said, but Julie shook her head.


    "I''m not. I don''t want anyone to die, and in a perfect world, this situation might have been resolved without anyone getting hurt or maimed or killed..." Julie sighed heavily. "But we <strong>don''t</strong> live in a perfect world. Our world is a crazy, sted hell-hole, still paying for the mistakes made two hundred years ago. And over thest two years, I have had to treat too many wounds, and bury far too many friends because of that gang. Two years. And you got rid of them in a <strong>week</strong>. If you hadn''t stopped them when you did, then they''d still be out here, causing chaos, killing people, killing... <em>children</em>... enving people with those damn cors... If things don''t calm down considerably, now that they''re gone, I will be <strong>very </strong>surprised."


    I nodded... but there was still a nagging in the back of my brain.


    "It''s only going to get worse before it gets better," I said aloud. "You know that, right?" Julie nodded solemnly.


    "The night is always darkest, just before the dawn," she said. "But the dawn ising. And I know you''re going to be the one to deliver it to us. You know how I know?"


    "Because I''m The Courier, and it''s my job to deliver shit?" I said - unable to resist the temptation to be a smartass  and shed a grin; she smiled back, but shook her head.


    "Nope. It''s because of everything you''ve already done. Helping the Followers, helping the King, trying to bring a bit of stability to Freeside... and there''s also <em>that</em>." She pointed at the securitron rolling past us. "Those robots may be creepy, but they''re the reason The Strip is so secure. If you keep them patrolling Freeside like this, who knows? People around here might actually be able to startfeeling <em>safe </em>again."


    "Well, when you put it like <em>that</em>, how can I refuse?" I shrugged. "I promise you this: I''ll deliver that dawn. And remember, if you ever need anything  food, seeds, water, medical supplies, whatever  don''t hesitate to ask. Odds are, I''ve got it, or I can <em>get </em>it, and I''ll do whatever I can to help you out." I paused, the gears in my head turning as soon as said ''water,'' and snapped my fingers. "Actually, hang on. I got an idea."


    "Yes?" Julie asked, suddenly interested.


    "Where''s that water pump you mentioned a while back?"


    I strode through the lobby of the 38, making a beeline for the elevator. It was even more silent than normal; all but two of the securitrons posted for internal security in the casino were out in Freeside on patrol. It''s not like there weren''t plenty of other much less obvious security measures House had installed to protect this ce...


    I was just about to press the button to call the elevator when suddenly: Ding! The doors slid open to reveal Cass leaning against the wall.


    "Oh, hey!" She smiled and nodded as I stepped inside. "I''s just ''bout te look fer ya."


    "d I could save you some time then." I jabbed the ''penthouse'' button with my thumb, and the elevator started to ascend. "What''s up?"


    "Oh, nothin''," she shrugged. "Just thinkin'' we might go fer some lunch, is all..."


    I paused, regarding her in silence carefully for a second or two.


    "Actually, I was talking about what''s bothering you," I said. Cass started fumbling over her words, hurriedly denying that anything was wrong, before I held up a hand to try and stop her. "It''s okay, it''s no big deal. It''s just written all over your face. What''s up?"


    "Well..." Cass scratched the back of her head nervously a bit. "I was just doin'' some thinkin'' about yesterday. Don''t you think it was a little too... I dunno, <em>easy</em>?"


    "Come again?" I asked.


    "Well, think about it: ever since we first saw that fuck in Nipton, we kept hearin'' stuff about him. He was supposed to be this crazy psychotic Legion puppetmaster - a sort of wastnd boogeyman, pulling about nine gazillion different strings at once. And then you take him down without breakin'' a sweat."


    "To be fair," I held up a finger and started leaning against the wall. "If I''d gone up against him even a week ago, that death course of his probably would''ve done me in."


    "Is that supposed to be afort?" Cass asked.


    "Look, point is, he probably didn''t know about all my new toys that gave me the edge and made it look easy, like the grapnel gun or the Jury Rigger  and he couldn''t have possibly known about the rocket boots, because I''d just got them <em>that morning</em>." I looked down, flexing the fingers on my metal fist. "He <em>may </em>have known about the metal arm, but I''m not sure what he could''ve done to counter that. Hell, even the cybeic eyes gave me an edge, and I''ve had those since forever. I <em>think</em> he tried to blind me at one point, but that didn''t really work." Cass shot me a frustrated stare as I rattled off all the various little upgrades I''ve gotten recently.


    "You''re just showin'' off now, aint''cha?" she said.


    "Little bit." I gave her a smile and a wink. Cass just rolled her eyes. "Seriously, though. You''reining that something was too easy for once?" Personally, I hadn''t questioned it, as it was a nice change of pace from the constant barrage of shit that had been thrown at me in an unending stream since October.


    "No, I''m just..." she sighed in frustration, obviously struggling to properly describe what she was thinking. "I just figured he''d have put up more of a fight. I feel like we''re missing something here, y''know? Like, we''re gonna find outter that it wasn''t really him, and it was just a body double. Or, like, maybe it was all an illusion, constructed from smoke, mirrors, an'' fear gas. Or maybe he was a doombot all along!"


    A long pause hung in the air between us for several seconds, and the elevator continued in its ascent.


    "You''ve been reading myic collection again, haven''t you?" I deadpanned.


    "No!" she said, and then added quickly: "Well... okay, yes, but that''s not the point. I guess I''m just kinda waitin'' fer th'' other shoe to drop, is all."


    Ding.


    "Well, if you want," I said, as the two of us stepped out of the elevator into the penthouse. "I was gonna check in with Yes Man before heading to the Big MT. He''s been keeping a close eye on things across the Colorado, and I figure a status update is overdue."


    "Oh boy. What''re you pickin'' up from the Mad Science toy-box <em>this </em>time?" Cass asked, chuckling.


    "Nothing for me, this... time..." I said, trailing off; I suddenly realized that the penthouse was filled with music. In itself, nothing new. Veronica''s record collection had been getting plenty of use since she first showed it off. But this was a sound unlike the Stones or Eric pton or Fleetwood Mac or Jimi Hendrix. It was a bit more...


    Surreal.


    <em>Breathe</em>


    <em>Breathe in the air</em>


    <em>Don''t be afraid to care</em>


    <em>Leave</em>


    <em>But don''t leave me</em>


    <em>Look around</em>


    <em>And choose your own ground</em>


    Veronica was at one of the workstations in front of the big monitor; Yes Man''s dopey, grinning face was stered across the screen. Her record yer was connected to several terminals, and the box of vinyl was wide open, with several of the gatefold LP sleeves scattered across the desk.


    "Having fun?" Cass asked, leaning over the railing. She looked up at the two of us with a smile.


    "Oh, hey guys!" she waved at us as we made our way down the stairs. Yes Man''s monitor flicker


    "What''re you guys doing?" I asked, looking out at the mess of vinyl.


    "I''m helping!" Yes Man boomed. Cass snorted out augh.


    "We''re transferring my record collection onto holotape," Veronica exined. "The problem with vinyl records is the needle digging into it to y it. Listen to it too much, and eventually it''ll get ruined. This way, we can still keep listening and I don''t have to worry about my priceless collection getting wrecked!"


    "Sounds like a great idea..." I said, still listening to the music; it had gotten even stranger, with some kind of weird pulsating, synthetic tones... "What are we even listening to?" Veronica grabbed one of the LP sleeves and handed it to me. It looked like a beam of light hitting a prism and turning into a rainbow, set against an all-ck background. In the top right corner, there was a faded and peeling circr sticker:


    "Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon..." I said aloud. Something about that seemed familiar... but I couldn''t ce it.


    "This shit sounds like it was made by aliens," Cass said, nodding her head. "S''awesome! Want some help?" Veronica looked up at Cass uncertainly for a second... and then gave her a smile and a nod. A part of me wanted to ask if this meant the two of them were okay now, and the three of us were all back to being friends again... but I could tell, I didn''t need to say a word. At least, not about that.


    "Hey, V? D''you think you can turn down the music for a minute?" I asked, putting the LP sleeve down. "It''s great, but I need to talk to Yes Man about something." V nodded, turning the dial on the record yer. "Hey, Yes Man!"


    "Hello!" the smiling face flickered again. "What can I do for you today?"


    "Where are we on the n?" I said, staring up the screen. "What do things look like across the Colorado?"


    "I''m d you asked that!" Yes Man beamed. "Not only has the sensor suite on top of the tower proven very helpful, but after talking with Jeeves, I''ve been able to get some tactical data from a few Big Mountain satellites still in geosynchronous orbit! They''ve been providing a steady stream of invaluable high-altitude surveince!"


    "And?" I asked, wishing he''d get to the point. "What''s the view from upstairs, then?"


    "Legion forces continue to pour into Caesar''s Fort from Arizona on a daily basis!" Yes Man said, cheery as ever. "The troop movements have been surprisingly easy to identify  I don''t think they counted on being seen from above. However, the exact number of Legion forces already within the Fort is much more difficult to urately tally."


    "Best guess?" I said, trying to push him into a proper answer.


    "Anywhere between 5,000 and 10,000 soldiers appear to be at The Fort, with more arriving from Arizona daily."


    The bottom fell out of my stomach. Veronica, Cass and I all looked up at the screen with our mouths hanging open. Let''s be honest here: that was a <strong>much </strong>bigger number than I was expecting.


    "What the fuck?!" I shouted, reeling a bit from the news.


    "Holy shit..." Veronica added.


    "Welp," Cass shook her head and sighed,posing herself the fastest. "There''s th'' other shoe."


    "It''s not that bad, really!" Yes Man said, apparently oblivious to how freaked out everyone was.


    "It <em>sounds</em> pretty bad..." Veronica said weakly, and I nodded. But Yes Man kept going.


    "Even if thergest estimate is correct, then the forces under Caesar''smand will still be outnumbered  by a considerable margin  thanks to the securitrons on standby right under their feet!"


    Again, the three of us looked up at him  but this time in surprise, rather than shock.


    "There''s <em>that</em> many down there?" Cass asked, tipping her hat back.


    "Now that I think about it, I don''t think House ever told me how many securitrons are down there..." I said, tapping my chin. "How " I began, but Yes Man cut me off.


    "There are 23,500 securitrons on standby, ording to the data feed," Yes Man said. "If I''m reading these notes in House''s files correctly, he wanted to make it an even 25,000, but there were production dys on the lower levels of the vault he didn''t ount for in his original predictive model. House sure did like numbers and calctions!"


    "Well, if there''s that many, why don''t we just activate ''em now?" Cass asked, leaning against the table and looking up at the monitor. "Have all''ve ''em fuck up Legion an'' be done with it?"


    "I can''t!" Yes Man replied. "I can monitor the underground vault, but I can''t actually activate them until two more locks are released. The first is within a power ry substation, just outside the El Dorado Dry Lake  which will have the added benefit of reactivating the cold fusion generators underneath Vegas, making the citypletely energy independent from Hoover Dam! The second is an override control within the Hoover Dammand center itself. That will send a jolt from the generators in the dam to the securitrons, giving them the boost they need toe back onto thework!"


    I started stroking my beard. The gears in my head were turning as he was exining all of this...


    "Alright, so let''s go <em>do</em> that!" Cass shouted. "What''re we waitin'' fer?"


    "The Legion to fullymit," I said. Veronica and Cass both turned to stare at me, and I looked back up at the monitor. "Yes Man, you said Legion troops are stilling in from Arizona, right?"


    "Yes, I did!"


    "Let me know when they <strong>stop</strong>," I looked back down, and both Veronica and Cass were staring at me. Guess I had to exin my reasoning. "Four years ago, when the NCR beat back the Legion, they didn''t finish the job. Caesar and the rest retreated back into Arizona, and they got the chance to regroup. And now they''re back again. If we''re not ready... if we jump the gun on this thing..."


    "They''re just gonna keeping back," Veronica finished my thought. She was nodding, like she knew where I wasing from, but I could tell from the expression on her face that she didn''t like it.


    "We need to make sure that when we end the Legion, we end them <strong>for good</strong>. So we''re gonna do what the NCR tried and failed to do at Boulder City  except instead of a handful of their elite troops, we''re going to get <strong>all </strong>of them." I punched my palm with my metal fist. "We''re gonna crush ''em like a radroach in a vice between the dam and that army of securitrons."


    "What, so we <em>wait</em>?" Cass asked incredulously. "That''s your big n?"


    "If even a handful of Legion escape into Arizona, they''ll be back. They''re gonna keeping back. And unless we get it right the first time..."


    I paused, an image shing through my mind.


    A little girl. Scared and helpless... and I didn''t save her.


    "Believe me..." I sighed, trying topose myself. "I want to make things right. I want to kick their asses... free all the... all those people they''ve enved. But I don''t want to fuck this up  free a handful, only for the Legion toe back, and have them start it all over again." I grit my teeth, and looked at Cass and Veronica. "So we get it done <strong>right</strong>. The <strong>first time</strong>."


    The two of them stood there, looking at me and each other... and then they both nodded. I started to walk away, back up the stairs to the teleporter, when I paused, and looked back at the screen.


    "Yes Man!" I said, pointing at the monitor.


    "Still here!"


    "Beef up the local scans. That assassin is still out there. We still don''t know who she''s really working for, or what she''s after. The <em>second </em>she shows up again  and she will  I wanna know about it." I turned on my heel and kept walking up the stairs.


    "I''ve got questions that need answering..."


    The electricity fizzled into nothing as I stepped off the teleport tform and into The Sink.


    "Wee back, sir," Jeeves said, his holographic bars bathing the room in a bright blue. "What can I do for you?" I reached into one of the panels on the console, and pulled out one of the teleport homers.


    "I''ve got a little project in mind. I''m gonna need you to fabricate some parts with your build-anything machine, and have them ready to teleport on the fly. Think you can do that for me, pal?"


    "For you, sir? I am always ready." I smiled, patting the side of the console as I walked past.


    "Hey, Sink?" I said, sticking my head in the next room. "I have an idea for a project that I think you''d be perfect for. Think you can give me a hand?"


    "A... project?" the feminine voice buzzed out of the sink mounted on the wall. "What sort of project?"


    "It involves water, cleaning things, and you won''t have toe in contact with any of those seventy hundred gajillion germs you were talking about before," I said with a smile, wondering to myself if she even remembered her little bout of hysterics when I''d first turned her on.


    "Hmm... Well... alright. Consider my interest piqued. But there is <em>one </em>thing I would like to ask of you, darling." I raised an eyebrow. "I''ve been doing some thinking since that day you suggested Ie up with a name for myself... and I''vee up with one I quite like."


    "Oh yeah?" I chuckled; pretty soon, every personality construct in The Sink will have a proper name. I can only dread to think what the Toaster is gonna call himself... "So, what''d you pick?"


    "Jocelyn," she said simply. "Not sure why, but I like the sound of it. I feel it works."


    "Sure thing, Jo," I smiled, nodding at the Sink. "Now... how am I gonna get you to Freeside..."


    "I believe I may be able to assist, sir," Jeeves said behind me. I turned to look, and the holographic image above his console had changed  it looked like a 3D schematic wireframe of some kind of... device? It was a sphere of some kind, but beyond that I couldn''t really tell.


    "What''s this?" I asked, leaning against the console for a closer look.


    "You told me before, sir, that I was to put on the agenda: ''look at all the schematics for the various personality constructs in The Sink,'' so you could reconstruct proper homes for us outside the crater." Jeeves exined, and the wireframe continued to move, the various holographic pieces moving into an exploded view and then reconstructing.


    "With the exception of the Toaster, obviously," I nodded.


    "Obviously, sir," Jeeves replied. From the other room I heard a bellowing ''I HEARD THAT!'' muffled slightly by the walls. "However, when Muggy used the teleporter, and still continued to function, I realized that the solution was obvious. I did a little digging, and found a suitable... shall we say, workaround."


    "It looks like an eyebot," I said, finally recognizing the shape. "Except... y''know, smaller."


    "Essentially yes, sir," Jeeves said. "This will provide freedom of mobility outside the confines of the crater, connected to their chips still housed in my chassis by way of the satellite phone technology with which sir is intimately familiar. It should prove... adequate."


    "Alright then," I said. "Lets get to work."


    "I must say!" Jocelyn''s voice buzzed out of the tiny metal sphere bobbing in the air near my head. "The outside world is much more fascinating than I expected! There is just... so much to see!"


    "I''m a little surprised," I said, continuing to walk down Vegas Boulevard. "I thought you would''ve been terrified of all the germs and diseases and filth out here."


    "Well, I''m not actually <em>here,</em>" she said, orbiting around my head as she spoke. "Using this device is like... it''s like flying a model aerone by remote. It feels like there is arge sheet of Perspex between myself and the rest of the world, so I don''t have to worry quite as much."


    "Remind me again," Arcade said, as he kept pace next to me. "What are we doing?" I pped Arcade on the shoulder, drawing him close.


    "You''re always talking about how you want to help out the people of Freeside, and today we''re going to do just that. You, me, and this flying metal 8-Ball are gonna bring the Waters of Life to Freeside... by upgrading <em>that</em>."


    I pointed to the courtyard ahead of us. It was a dusty, empty lot, devoid of anything except a singlerge pipe sticking out of the ground, and one of the Kings standing guard. It was the water pump Julie had told me about, and it looked just as pitiful as she''d described. So pitiful that it didn''t really deserve someone with an AK standing guard.


    "Hey there!" I said with a wave as we approached. At first, the guy looked confused  especially when he saw the small, floating sphere  but then he looked at me and seemed to recognize me.


    "Oh, hey. You''re that Courier, aren''t ya?" I nodded. "Hey man, mad respect, you savin'' The King like that yesterday. If you want a drink, I ain''t gonna charge you money like I do fer everyone else."


    "Why charge at all?" Arcade asked. The guard shrugged.


    "Because if we let everyone run amok, the damn NCR''d shut us down. Gotta have some way to regte things or..." He trailed off when he realized I wasughing.


    "Oh, that''s adorable. The NCR isn''t gonna shut you down... and I''m not here for a drink," I walked around him, and started circling the pump. "We''re gonna make this better." He just looked confused. "So, Jo? What do you make of this?"


    "Oh, my goodness!" the tiny sphere buzzed around the metal pump. "This is hopeless! Completely inadequate! All of this rust, and the metal fatigue... and oh my word, is that <em>lead</em>?! My God, this is <em>awful</em>! It has to go! It''s all got to be changed  all of it!"


    "Hey," I turned back to the guard, and patted him on the cheek; he was too stunned to react. "Go check on The King. He needs his boys more than this rusty old pump."


    The work was slow at first. The hardest part was ripping out the original pump without damaging the water supply underneath. But once that was finished, things really started to fly. Every few minutes, we''d call Jeeves and have him teleport in some new piece of equipment:ser cutting tools, advanced water filters, some condenser systems, a pressure relief valve or two, some air intake vents... even a few tiny sr panels to keep it running.


    What really surprised me was when I looked up from the work and realized that Arcade, Jo and I had been drawing quite the crowd. It seemed like half of Freeside had turned up toe watch us work. I''m not sure what was bringing them in the most: was it the <em>size </em>of the project, or was it the blue electric lightshow of us teleporting in so many parts in such quick session?


    "And I think..." I snapped thest panel shut, and took a step back to admire our handiwork. "...that should just about do it."


    "Not bad for an hour''s work," Arcade pushed his sses up his nose, nodding at the device.


    "Oh, yes!" the tiny sphere zipped around the device with a speed that gave away her excitement. "This is splendid! Marvelous! Simply wonderful!"


    The final result was a gigantic cylindrical piece of shiny metal Big MT tech, about ten feet high. It almost looked alien, and when I flipped the switch to turn it on, the air was filled with an electric buzz that made my teeth tingle. Suddenly, a slight chill filled the air around the device, and I knew instantly that it was working.


    This could provide an endless supply of fresh, clean water for everyone in Freeside by pulling it from <em>the air</em>. Maybe not just this one on its own... but a few more, spread all throughout Freeside?


    "Yeah... this could do some good," I said aloud.


    "I should''ve known you were the one causing all thismotion," I heard a voice say from behind me. I turned to see the crowd part, and Julie Farkas walking over to me. When she got a good look at the massive device, she came to a dead stop. "What the..."


    "You like it?" I said with a grin. I looked out over the crowd, and raised my voice enough so that everyone could hear. "This thing behind me? This is <em>better </em>than that old water pump. This''ll provide free water to everyone! As much as you want! And if the NCR doesn''t like it..." I shrugged. "Then tough shit." A ripple ofughter went out among the crowd. As people started lining up to get a drink, Julie came up close and pulled me aside, for what I assumed she thought would be a quiet word.


    "Are you sure that''s wise?" She asked. "Badmouthing the NCR, I mean. That''s just going to give them an excuse toe and try to sabotage this. We both know what they''re like..." I just grinned back at her.


    "No they won''t. I''m gonna make sure this thing is still guarded  but not so it can charge people, but just to discourage sabotage." Julie narrowed her eyes.


    "... It?" she asked. I nodded, pointing over her shoulder.


    "Hi there!" a securitron with Yes Man''s face rolled into view, waving a w. The screen shed, and suddenly it changed into the soldier face of the Mk II securitron OS.


    "I''m gonna get you and the rest of the Followers the ns to make more of these as soon as possible," I said. "This bot is gonna make sure to let us know if something goes wrong."


    "Us?" Julie seemed genuinely surprised. I nodded.


    "I''ve got big ns for Vegas... and you''re a critical piece in the puzzle. You know why?" She shook her head, and Iughed. "Simple! Because <em>everyone </em>loves Julie!"


    It was several hourster. The sun had gone down, and I was standing on the roof of one of the buildings overlooking the upgraded water pump; people were still crowding around, getting water... being <em>nice </em>to one another. For the first time in a week, it seemed like it was going to be a pretty calm night in Freeside.


    "Not a bad bit of work..." I said aloud.


    "Yeah... everything seems quiet," Emily said in my ear. "I can''t see any activity on the security cameras... for once." I chuckled.


    "Won''tst," I said. "But it''s a nice respite, and I''ll take it while itsts."


    "Why don''t I believe you?" she said. "Oh, that''s right, because you''re on patrol in fullbat gear."


    "Eh. No more than bein'' prepared. I''m sure there''s still a few pockets of Los Zorroz still out there. And there''s always going to be people who need help." I paused a moment, and then decided to add: "By the way... thanks."


    "Thanks? What for?" Emily asked.


    "Because if it wasn''t for you, I couldn''t have done any of this," I exined. "You''re my eye in the sky, and I couldn''t ask for a better ally..." I grinned under my helmet. "...<em>Alfred</em>." Emily snorted, andughed a bit before calming down.


    "Don''t mention it... <em>Bruce</em>." The two of usughed briefly as I scanned the horizon... until suddenly the Local Surveince antennae on my helmet buzzed in my ear, and picked up something:


    "Help!" a voice cried out, desperately. "Someone! Help!"


    "Well... back to work!" I said, pulling out the grapnel gun. In a sh I was running across the rooftop, in the direction of the sound.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>

 Chapter 148: Whos Next

    Chapter 148: Who''s Next


    It had been a very long week since my fight in Cerulean Robotics.


    On the one hand, Los Zorroz had been pretty effectively broken after I killed Vulpes. Losing all of their leadership and so many men in their failed attack on The King had definitely taken a toll, and they weren''t nearly as effective at causing chaos as they had been before.


    But on the other hand, they were still <em>trying</em>. Just like I''d predicted, scattered pockets of Los Zorroz were still all over Freeside. Actually fighting them wasn''t really difficult, to be honest. Thanks to the dailybat training I''d been receiving from Veronica, any idiot dumb enough to go went toe-to-toe with me ended up with a perfectly t surface where their face used to be. The problem was that it was like ying whack-a-mole: every time I found another group and shut it down, two more would pop up.


    Of course, it wasn''t just the fighting keeping me busy, either. Apart from cleaning up Freeside (which, as an added bonus, allowed me plenty of time to hang out with Raul), I was doing whatever I could to help out the Followers. Every day, I''d help them set up a new "vaporator" in another part of Freeside. I wish I could say I came up with the name, but it was actually Julie''s idea, once she figured out how they made drinkable water.


    Jeeves had also made a lot more of those floating sensor balls for the personality constructs in The Sink, which was useful. Jocelyn, Barry, and even the Doc had all visited the Mormon Fort multiple times over thest week to try and help the Followers with all their various projects. And after talking with them, I was informed of <em>another </em>problem: it was starting to get <strong>very</strong> crowded in the Mormon Fort. The Followers needed to find a new headquarters with more space. If nothing else, they needed to expand to other ces in Freeside  like franchises, but actually useful. So, I put that one on the ''list of shit to do'' as well.


    I was also doing my best to keep up with the bigger picture, getting daily updates from Yes Man whenever I had the chance. Legion troops were still pouring in to the Fort from Arizona... but the NCR were also getting serious, too. Yes Man showed me satellite images of heavy troop movement and truck convoysing into the Mojave by way of the outpost on the Long 15, and he''d intercepted reports of elite squads of Veteran Rangers  all d in ck Armor  arriving (or on their way) from Baja.


    And if <em>that </em>wasn''t enough, Yes Man also told me that the NCR was nning on having President Kimballe to the Dam in the next week or so, as a sort of public rtions publicity stunt. He couldn''t tell me exactly <em>when</em> it was going to happen, but he made it very clear that it was very important Kimball <em>didn''t </em>die during his visit. He didn''t go into any more detail than that, which just seemed ominous. Maybe I wasn''t asking the right questions?


    In short, I was keeping <strong>very</strong> busy... but I wasn''t in any kind of mortal danger. And that felt weird. It kind of gave me an appreciation for Cass'' earlier sentiment about dropping shoes. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. At least, it didn''t drop during <em>that</em> week.


    When the shoe finally <em>did</em> drop, it came from a ce absolutely <strong>nobody</strong> expected.


    I certainly didn''t.


    <em>The change, it had toe</em>


    <em>We knew it all along</em>


    <em>We were liberated from the fold, that''s all</em>


    <em>And the world looks just the same</em>


    <em>And history ain''t changed</em>


    ''<em>Cause the banners, they are flown in thest war...</em>


    It was around noon-ish, and for once, I actually had a bit of downtime. My original n was to do some calibrations to the Jury-Rigger. Mostly routine maintenance kind of stuff, like zeroing the sights, checking all the connections to make sure all the heavybat hadn''t knocked anything loose, that sort of thing. But that n fell out the window when Roxie bounded into the room and started demanding attention.


    Because really, when an adorable, hundred-pound, cybeically enhanced German Shepard leaps onto yourp and starts licking your face like you''re made out of doggie chow... you''re kind of forced to drop what you''re doing and pay it attention.


    And that''s how I found myself sitting on the couch, listening to The Who, absentmindedly petting Roxie while the giant cyberdogy sprawled across myp, fast asleep. Part of me wanted to move her; she was mostly metal and starting to weigh down on my legs like a ton of bricks. I was really starting to lose a little feeling down there. Then again, it was nice having an actual excuse to not move for once. And it''s not like I had any room toin about all the "metal parts," anyway. I was probably <em>at least </em>50% metal by now myself.


    "Fuck me, man," I heard Cass say from somewhere behind me. "Y''look dead."


    "Not dead," I said, rolling my head back against the couch. "Just tired." Cass chuckled as she walked behind me, and that caused Roxie to perk her head up.


    "Yeah, so''s every''ne else over thirty," Cass said, vaulting over the back of the sofa, flopping down on the opposite end. Roxie''s head followed Cass, she panted hot air in my face, and then got up  jabbing a paw in my crotch for maximum difort  so she could get some attention from Cass. "Hey girl! How''re you doin?"


    And then:


    WHAP! "Sonuva-" WHAP! "Gah! Eh-" WHAP! "Phut!" WHAP! "Augh!" WHAP!


    "Damnit, Rox!" I yelled, finally grabbing hold of the cyberdog''s rear end and shoving it away from me. "Enough with the tail already, damn! Augh! Pah! Ah, fuck, dog hair! Bleaugh!" Cass didn''t say anything at first. She was too busyughing her ass off, scratching Rox behind the braincase.


    "Good girl!" Cassughed again. Roxie barked once before nuzzling into Cass, and settling down in herp. "Alright, so what''ve got nned fer today? Smashin'' some more bad guys, I hope?" I let out a singleugh.


    "I''ll let you know when we find more. We''ve been hammering them so hard thisst week, I''m pretty sure most of them have gone to ground. They''ll turn up again, soon enough... but for now, I''m enjoying the peace and quiet."


    "Shame," Cass shook her head. "I was really lookin'' forward to pullin'' another ''psychological warfare'' gag." It took me a few seconds to realize what she was talking about.


    "We could always just <em>y </em>some AC/DC, you know," I said, finally remembering the action two nights ago. "We don''t need it ring at full volume from speakers mounted on top of a securitron if you want to listen <em>that</em> badly."


    "Well, duh," Cass shrugged. "But, y''have to admit: bustin'' in through th'' roof, guns zin'' while ''Shoot To Thrill'' is stin'' so loud it''s shakin'' th'' goddamn walls? That shit''s fun!" I opened my mouth to object, but paused, thinking it over. I shut my mouth and nodded.


    "Okay, yeah. I''ll give you that." I let out a huge sigh, leaned my head back, sank even deeper into the couch, and listened to the crazy guitar and mental drums as "Won''t Get Fooled Again" drew to a close. I suppose this is the problem withing to a stop after you''ve been going for so long: it''s really hard to get <em>going </em>again.


    And this was a reallyfy couch.


    "Soooo..." Cass broke the silence. "How''s D doin''?" I perked my head up and looked in her direction. She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I half expected her to vanish in a minute, leaving only her hat and smile floating in midair.


    "She''s good," I said with a smile. To be honest, I was just d Cass had stopped calling D my ''side bitch.'' That joke got old real quick. "She was actually asking about you the other day."


    "Oh yeah?" She said with undisguised interest. I knew <em>that </em>would get her attention. Cass tried to shift in her seat, but was hampered by the enormous dog in herp. "What''d she say?"


    "Well, I told her about that idea of yours, and she''s..." I paused, remembering D''s response. Her rather... <em>enthusiastic </em>response. I smiled to myself and started chuckling.


    "C''mon man, don''t leave me hangin'' like this!" Cass reached over and prodded me in the side of the head. "Gimmie the details! Spill!"


    "Well, I think her exact words were, and I quote: ''another test subject would be extremely beneficial to my research,'' unquote." I looked at Cass, who furrowed her brow in confusion. "That''s D-speak for ''she''s interested,'' trust me. Everything has to be justified with science for her. Even sex." I paused, and amended: "<strong>Especially</strong> sex." Cass shook her head.


    "Hey, ev''rybody''s got their kinks," she shrugged. The two of us startedughing again. Before we got a chance to continue, however, my Pip Boy started beeping at me.


    "Hi there!" Yes Man''s voice buzzed at me right before I hit the transmit button. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have news!"


    "What''s up?" I asked, cycling through to the radio.


    "You remember how told me to let you know if I discovered anything rted to that mysterious Enve assassindy?" He asked rhetorically. "Well, guess what!"


    A heavy knot formed in the pit of my stomach.


    "Oh fuck," Cass muttered, tipping her hat back. "Here we go again."


    "What have you found?" I asked, followed swiftly by: "And get to the point." I''d dealt with Yes Man''s verbose nature way too many times before.


    "One of the long range scanners on the roof picked up an energy signature! It''s not an exact match, but the readings are remarkably simr to the energy signature recorded by ED-E just outside Red Rock Canyon! It''s highly probable that I''m picking up readings from another anti-gravity hovercraft!" Cass and I nced at each other.


    "What, out in the open?" Cass asked. I nodded slowly, the gears in my head turning.


    "Something stinks," I said, getting up off the couch. "Can you get a fix on the location?"


    "I''ll keep an eye on the scanner, and send regr updates to your Pip Boy! If you leave now, you should be able to catch it!"


    "Thanks," I started to make my way to the door, but turned back to Cass. "C''mon, gear up. We may not get a better chance than this." She nodded, but didn''t move.


    "Yeah, sure, I''min''... I just... I''ll..." Cass struggled against the mass of sleeping fur and metal on top of her, but no matter how much she tried, she could not dislodge the dog. "Uh... little help?"


    My Corvega roared down the open highway north of Vegas, leaving dirty huge clouds of dust behind. Roxie was in the backseat, sticking her head out the window with a goofy smile on her face. Cass was sitting in the passenger seat next to me, checking and re-checking her AA-12 over and over again. And I was asionally ncing down at my Pip Boy map every few seconds, to make sure we were still on course.


    We were going in to this situation seriously under-strength. Boone was down south, hunting fiends, Arcade was busy up in the Mormon Fort (and he''d taken April and Emily with him, so we had no Mission Control except Yes Man), and Veronica was somewhere in east Freeside, hanging out with Raul and keeping an eye on things. So it was just Cass, Roxie and myself, because I didn''t know how long we''d be able to track this signal before it vanished.


    All that said, for as under-strength as we were, I was never going to check if Stripe or Sasha wanted toe along. Tempting as it was to bring out the really big guns, I decided to leave them be for the moment. If it really <em>was </em>Tuera, then the n was to try and catch her, not... not...


    I needed answers. Not a corpse.


    "We getting'' close yet?" Cass muttered, popping the drum magazine out to check the ammo for the fifth time.


    "Not sure," I admitted. "The waypoint on the map keeps moving. But if I''m reading this right, then who or <em>what</em>ever it is doesn''t seem to be in much a hurry to get anywhere."


    "Maybe yer luck from fightin'' Los Zorroz is holdin'', an'' that Enve bitch has let her guard down," Cass smirked, pping the ammo drum back in ce.


    "Assuming that''s who it is," I said, as a sh of realization crossed my mind. Cass shot me a confused look.


    "Who else could it be?" she asked.


    "I don''t know," I said, the gears in my head starting to turn. "And that''s worrying. Yes Man said what we''re chasing isn''t an exact match for that hovercycle of hers; it was just <em>simr</em>. It <em>could </em>be her, sure. Or it could be some of her friends, maybe. Or maybe it''s something even <strong>worse</strong>. Something we have no frame of reference for, and we aren''t prepared to face."


    "What, y''mean like that alien ship from a while back?" Cass asked, suddenly fidgeting in her seat and looking around. "Now Ie to think''ve it... Aren''t we close t''where it crashed? I think we are. Y''think it might be more aliens?"


    "For all we know? It could be aliens, yes." I said, remembering that close shave with the crashed UFO two months ago. "I hope not. Either way, it''s toote to turn back now."


    Suddenly, I noticed something new off in the distance: a dust cloud. That was the unmistakable sign of a vehicle somewhere up ahead, and it just about matched the coordinates Yes Man had been sending me. And if I could see that dust cloud, then whatever was causing it could see mine.


    "Get military," I said, gunning the engine. "Things are probably gonna get loud real quick." I reached back and patted Roxie to get her attention. "Head inside Rox, I''m rollin'' up the windows." She let out a disgruntled ''murf'' but got back in the car all the same.


    I crested the hill, and a blur of metal whooshed perilously close to my window.


    "JESUS FUCK!" Cass shouted, iling in her seat. I didn''t say anything. I just came off the throttle, spun the wheel as hard as I could, hit the clutch and yanked on the handbrake. The Corvega practically pirouetted around, sliding through the dust cloud, and when we came out the other side I mmed it back in gear and stamped on the loud pedal. It wasn''t long before we got out of the dust trail it was leaving in its wake, and we could finally get a good look at the thing.


    "What the..." I said aloud.


    "The fuck is that?" Cass asked, clearly just as perplexed as I was.


    Whatever it was, it sure as hell <em>looked</em> alien. It was a car-sized wedge of riveted metal tes, like half a pyramid pushed on its side, or a really big teardrop. Of course, by ''car-sized,'' I mean that it was about as long as my Corvega, but it was also about twice as wide and three times as tall. It was hovering about a foot or two off the ground; rows of blue jets on its underside were kicking up the dust as it skimmed along. Two circr thrusters were mounted in the back of the craft, vomiting jets of super-heated blue gas behind - at least, they <em>looked</em> like thrusters. Like the kind of thing you''d see on a spaceship in an old sci-fi holotape. Except these <strong>definitely </strong>were not just blue lights surrounded by a bit of tin-foil.


    "Think it''s spotted us?" Cass asked, holding onto her AA-12 as tight as she could.


    Before I could answer, the two thrusters in the back lit up, and it roared off ahead of us. The st from the rockets buffeted my car, and everything shook. I wrestled with the wheel, trying desperately to keep it on the straight and narrow, and managed to look up just in time to see that the strange metal wedge had pulled a 180  and it was now facing us. Not only that, but it hade to a dead stop.


    "SHIT!" I yelled, stamping on the brake. My Corvega screeched to a halt, a good five or ten feet away from the metal wedge. Now that I could see it from the front, there were obvious windows built into it  like a windshield. Someone was driving this thing, I was pretty sure, but the windows were tinted ck and I couldn''t get a look inside.


    There was something else odd about the craft. Something was painted on the nose, but it was so faded and scratched that I couldn''t tell what it was originally supposed to be. Some kind of... what <em>was</em> that? A circle? A gear? Was this a Brotherhood thing? And are those supposed to be letters or numbers?


    For a few seconds, nobody did anything. The two vehicles were facing each other, nose-to-nose,pletely still. The dust was still swirling around us and starting to settle... but no obvious weapons appeared on the strange craft. My hand hovered over the switch to activate the grenade machine guns, just in case, but I didn''t flip open the safety cover. I wanted to be ready just in case this thing  whatever it was  turned out to be hostile, but if it <em>wasn''t</em>, then I didn''t want to piss it off needlessly.


    The windows on the front of the craft popped open with a mechanical whirr, and began to slide backward. No guns popped out; instead, it revealed an entrance to the interior of the craft... and a grayish-ck dog appeared. It propped its front paws on the edge and barked at us.


    "What." Cass and I both said in unison.


    "Hey there!" I heard a man''s voice bellow at us from inside the craft. "That is a <em>nice ride</em>! Wanna race?"


    The owner of the voice grabbed hold of the windshield above him, and stood up out of the car. He was a massive white dude wearing an up-armored Vault suit. He had spiky blonde hair, a pair of mirrored shades on his face... and a Pip Boy on his arm. The arm with the Pip Boy was covered in metal, and it looked like armor  specifically, it looked like the arm from a set of T-51b power armor. And I have to say, this dude had the sort of build that could actually pull off something huge like that. Motherfucker was a massive mountain of meaty muscle. His biceps alone had to be as big as my <em>head</em>, for fuck sake!


    "It''s all right!" He said, hopping out of his hovercraft. "Ie in peace!" He paused, and added with augh: "Take me to your leader!" He turned to the dog with a smile. "I''ve always wanted to say that!" The grayish-ck mutt barked happily in response.


    "What the fuck is goin'' on?" Cass practically whispered. I shrugged, just as much at a loss as she was... but got out of the car all the same. "The fuck''re you doing?! Get back here!"


    Honestly, I didn''t know what I was doing. This day had swiftly turned surreal, and I felt like I <em>should </em>be worried... but I wasn''t. The pit of my stomach hadn''t fallen out yet. But maybe I was just too confused to register all that was going on.


    "Uh... hi." I said weakly, standing behind the open door. "So, this might be a little awkward," I held up my Pip Boy. "But we were tracking an energy signature, and we weren''t... you weren''t who we were expecting to find." The Vault dweller dude just shrugged and kept smiling.


    "Hey, don''t worry about it!" heughed. "Some of my favorite quests happened because I was following something and got sidetracked! I mean, that''s how I found Dogmeat here! Ain''t that right, you adorable fleabag, you?" The mutt barked again, and the Vault dweller dude started scratching his dog behind the ears.


    "Uh " I was just about to say something, but something heavy and furry brushed past my leg. Roxie bounded out of my car, and trotted over to the neers.


    "Oh hey! You have your own pup too? That''s fantastic!" The grayish-ck mutt jumped out of the hovercraft, and the two dogs started barking and sniffing and circling each other. You know, basically saying ''hello'' to each other in that peculiar way dogs tend to do. "Well, that''s a good sign!" he said, leaning against his hovercraft; the vehicle didn''t even wobble. "Usually, if I''m supposed to be shooting at people, Dogmeat starts mauling them immediately!"


    "Is that so?" I said with a chuckle, stepping out from behind the door. "Well, truth be told, Roxie tends to go for the nuts more often than is probably healthy. But, on the other hand, she does bring in my slippers every morning." The Vault dweller let out a raucous bellyugh and pped his hands together.


    "Ha! Oh, I <strong>like</strong> you!" While heughed, I unclipped my helmet and set it on the hood of my Corvega. Cass cautiously stepped out of the car as well. I walked up to him, and I have to say... I''m not short, but this guy made me feel like a midget. He was <strong>huge</strong>!


    "So... where were we? Oh!" The Vault dweller snapped his fingers. "Right, the introduction bit!" He held out a hand that looked about the size of a baseball glove. "My name''s Christopher. Back east, people call me the Lone Wanderer."


    "Sheason," I said, shaking his hand. I couldn''t be sure, but it almost seemed like his <em>fleshy</em> hand was just as strong as my <em>metal</em> one. "People around here call me the Courier." At that, both his eyebrows raised up over his shades.


    "OH! So you''re the  FAWKES! Stop snoozin'' and get your ass up!" He spun around and banged on the side of his hovercraft several times. "This is the guy! It''s like I told you  turning <strong>right </strong>at Albuquerque <strong>was</strong> a good idea after all!" A heavy, grunting growl echoed out of the darkness, just as Cass walked up.


    "So, what th'' fuck''s goin'' on?" Cass asked. For a few seconds, I was at a loss for words.


    "Honestly? Not really sure. But it seems to be more interesting than anything else that''s happened today. Cass? Christopher. Christopher? Cass." I said, gesturing back and forth. Chris started looking Cass up and down, and didn''t even try to hide it.


    "Hey there," he said, grinning broadly and leaning against his hovercraft like he was leaning against a bar. "How''s your day going?" Cass just raised an eyebrow.


    "What, s''that it?" Cass asked. "That''s the <strong>best </strong>line you cane up with?" I couldn''t tell if this was supposed to be yful banter or if she was genuinely insulted. Chris just shrugged, but didn''t stop smiling.


    "Well, you have to start with hello."


    At this point, the grunting from inside the hovercraft got louder, and arge hand fumbled around at the edge of the opening, trying to grab hold of something. And for as big as this Lone Wanderer dude was, this hand belonged to something bigger... and it was... <em>yellow</em>? The figure that emerged out of the darkness, clutching at his head like he was hungover, swiftly revealed himself to be a super mutant... but he didn''t look like any super mutant I''d ever seen before.


    I''ve seen green ones and blue ones... but never a yellow one before. How many colors of super mutants are there? Are there red and purple ones wandering around somewhere out there in the wastnd?


    "Ughhh..." he grunted. "And I was having such a nice dream, too. There were twins... and they were reading Jules Verne."


    "Guys, this is Fawkes," Chris patted the super mutant on the shoulder; that was when I noticed he was wearing some heavy duty armor (built from scrap) on top of what looked like a tattered Vault suit. "He''s one of my closest and most loyal friends."


    "Yeah, well... Someone has to get us out of all the trouble you cause," Fawkes rubbed his eyes onest time, and blearily looked around. "So, where are we this time? El Paso? The Fiji Inds? The <em>Moon</em>?"


    "Well, if this guy is the Courier, then we''ve made it to the Mojave Wastnd! And that means..." He looked down at his Pip Boy. "Yep! Right on schedule!" He reached into his hovercraft, and pulled out an old Chinese assault rifle.


    "WHOA!" I yelled, my hand immediately went for Roscoe, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Cass bring up her shotgun. But Chris didn''t point the rifle at us, and he didn''t stop smiling. Instead, reached in and pulled out <em>another </em>rifle: a sma rifle, this time.


    "Oh good!" he said, hefting up both guns. "You''ve brought some guns! You''re gonna need them in a minute."


    "What?" I asked, utterly confused. And then I realized something else: both the dogs had stopped talking to one another, and were looking around, growling and snarling at something off in the distance.


    "Do you... hear..." Cass began, before her eyes went wide. "FUCK!" And when I heard the sound, I knew why she looked worried. It was faint at first, but it was growing steadily louder:


    Buzzing wings. Lots of really big buzzing wings.


    "Cazadores!" I yelled back, grabbing my helmet and reaching into the car for the Jury-Rigger. I snapped my helmet back in ce just as the first of the giant insects materialized off in the distance. I was suddenly reminded of that day when Veronica and I were ambushed by these fuckers.


    Only this time, I had an energy rifle of my very own.


    "Alright you flyin'' fucks!" I yelled, readying my rifle and leaping onto the roof of my car to get a better vantage point. "You''re not getting my car <em>this </em>time!"


    "Hey, Fawkes!" Chris said from somewhere on the other side of his hovercraft. "Turn the radio up! We need some music for this fight!"


    I didn''t hear if there was any response, because the cazadores had finally started to close the gap. The buzzing all around us waspletely all consuming. I didn''t even hear the sound of the LAER st from the Jury-Rigger as it effortlessly turned three of the bugs into ash.


    But I did hear - and feel - a massive <strong>THUD</strong> from behind me. The ground shook so much, I thought I was going to be thrown from the car.


    As quick as I could, I nced over my shoulder: Fawkes had leapt out of the hovercraft, and was carrying the absolute biggest gatlingser I had ever seen. Because it wasn''t a single one: this crazy mofo hadshed <em>four gatlingsers </em>together into a gun that looked like it would be more at home on the side of a tank. Or maybe the deck of a <em>battleship</em>. And he was swinging it around like it was made out of paper!


    I couldn''t focus on that right now. The air was still thick with bugs. Blueser after blueser cut through the air, apanied by a fuside of redsers from Fawkes'' gatlingser, round after round of buckshot from Cass'' AA-12, tracers and green sma from Chris'' going all guns akimbo with his rifles...


    But it wasn''t enough. There must have been hundreds of these damn things alling at us! It was insane! And it didn''t take long before the Jury-Rigger was dry and needed to recharge. Which was especially bad, as a really big one wasing straight for me, and wasn''t slowing down.


    "FUCK YOU!" I shouted, tossing aside the rifle and leaping off the top of my car. My fist mmed into its head, and it split apart in a shower of cracking exoskeleton and gore.


    "STAY!" Inded on the ground, picking up half of the exploded bug, and tossing it at another.


    "AWAY!" I pulled out the sawed-off, and sted apart two of the bugs trying to nk me. One barrel for each seemed to do the trick, especially when you go for the face.


    "FROM!" I tossed aside the shotgun and pulled out the grapnel. The hook fired out so hard and so fast that it <em>passed through</em> the bodies of three cazadores beforeing to a stop in the fourth.


    "MY!" I yanked on the grapnel, and leapt up; the jets in my rocket boots kicked in, and the bugs got burnt to cinders. The jets propelled me straight into <em>another </em>cazador.


    "CAR!" I grabbed hold of the massive bug, and the two of us started tumbling through the air. I got my bearings long enough to register the stingering straight for my face... so I grabbed hold of it with my cybeic hand, pulled the massive spike out of its abdomen, twirled it around in my hand, and jammed it sharp-end first into the mutant bugs face. The two of us crashed into the ground.


    "Fuck off!" I growled, getting up. I gave the twitching insect one final kick for good measure.


    After that things finally started to calm down. Everywhere you looked, there were dead bugs everywhere. And now that there were no longer any buzzing insect wings, I could finally hear what Chris and Fawkes had been listening to on the radio:


    <em>He''s hackin'' and wackin'' and smackin''!</em>


    <em>He''s hackin'' and wackin'' and smackin''!</em>


    <em>He''s hackin'' and wackin'' and smackin''!</em>


    <em>He just hacks, wacks, choppin'' that meat!</em>

 Chapter 149: Quests and Quarry

    Chapter 149: Quests and Quarry


    <em>HELLOOOOOOOOOO, CHILDREN! It''s me, Three Dog! BOW-WOW! Bringin'' you all the music and news your little hearts can handle! Today''s weather: excessively violent, with a chance of dismemberment! Tune inter for our five-day forecast! And now: some music I have lined up for you. It''s Dion, singin'' all about "The Wanderer." And I think we all know who this is for.</em>


    Crunch.


    Dead cazadores littered the ground in almost every direction. It was impossible to walk more than two steps without stepping on one, and hearing the sickening crack of chitin snapping underfoot. Off to my left, Roxie and the other mutt  Dogmeat, I think  were ying tug of war with a surprisingly meaty cazador leg. And off to my right was my car. She was covered in slime and insect parts, but thankfullypletely undamaged.


    "Don''t you worry about a thing, babe," I said, lovingly patting the hood of my car. "I wasn''t going to let them hurt you. But then again, you are a tough ol'' bird, aint''cha?"


    "D''you two need some alone time?" Cass asked, walking up behind me. The sound of crunching insects did little to conceal the snicker in her voice.


    "Hey, if you can talk to your gun, I can talk to my car," I said with augh. I brushed aside a decapitated cazador head, and hopped up to sit on the hood, patting the space to my right. Cass got the hint, and hopped up next to me.


    "You leave Long Dick Johnson outta this, alright?" She said with a smile. Iughed, unclipped my helmet, set it aside, and reached into my duster for my smokes. That''s about when Fawkes walked over to the two of us; the barrels on his massive gatlingser were still red hot.


    "You fight well, Courier," the yellow super mutant nodded at me. "It''s a more... <em>unorthodox</em> fighting style than I expected. But effective." I chuckled, grabbing a cig with my mouth and flicking open Benny''s lighter.


    "You''re not too bad yourself," I breathed in the acrid smoke, and snapped the lighter shut. "Hell, you probably could''ve bagged them all with that big fuckin'' gun of yours, if we weren''t around." Fawkes justughed, pulling out a cigar  from where, I couldn''t tell you  and lit the end on one of the still red-hot barrels.


    "In all things, a calm heart will prevail," he said, chomping down on the cigar and taking a long drag. "And my heart is very calm indeed."


    "Think I''ll take the big gun over a calm heart," Cass said. Fawkes smirked, smoke curling out the side of his mouth.


    "Well, yes. It <strong>does</strong> help," Fawkes chuckled.


    "You know, it''s funny," A voice sounded off to my right, and everyone turned to look; Christopher was walking towards us, holding a cazador abdomen. "We''ve been seeing a whole lot more of these thingstely. They definitely have numbers on their side now." He pulled out a <em>fucking machete</em>, and began slicing into the abdomen. "I mean, it doesn''t help. But it''s a good effort."


    "I think they''ve traded size for numbers," Fawkes nodded at his friend. "They were <strong>much</strong> bigger in Zion, weren''t they?"


    "Oh God, yes!" Chrisughed as he reached into the dead bug, and pulled out something sticky  was that the poison nd? Satisfied, he tossed the useless cazador carcass over his shoulder. "The ones we saw in that box canyon? They were HUGE! They must have been eating deathws to get that big. In fact, I bet that''s why we didn''t see any in Zion."


    "So, where''d you guys say you were from again?" Cass asked. "Somewhere back east?" Chris nodded.


    "Yeah! We''re both from DC," Chris said with a nod. "They call it the Capital Wastnd, now, but..." Fawkes cut him off with a grunt, snorting out a dirty great cloud of smoke.


    "I''m not sure we can really say we''re <em>from </em>there anymore. We''ve hardly been back thest few years." Chris just smiled, and adjusted his mirrored shades.


    "It''s where we got our start!" He said, practically beaming. "And at least it''s less of a radioactive piss-hole now than it was when I first crawled out of the Vault."


    "Wait, back up," I said, tossing the spent cigarette aside. "DC? Like... <em>Washington </em>DC?" Cass looked confused; her grasp of geography was never all that good, and she was the first to admit it. But I''d seen <em>plenty</em> of old maps from before the war. Chris nodded. "But... that''s all the way on the other side of the <em>country</em>! What the fuck are you doing this far west?"


    "Road trip?" Chris answered with a shrug. "To be honest, I''ve got a lot in my quest log that''s pointing me in this direction. I mean, it started off simply enough, and then it just kept building and building and building..."


    "Quest log? What do you mean?" Cass asked. She leaned in close to me, and whispered in my ear: "Th'' fuck''s he talkin'' about?" I shrugged. I honestly didn''t have a <em>clue</em> what he meant.


    "Here, I''ll give you a taste..." He started fiddling with his Pip Boy. "I suppose the big quest we still have to do is heading to the Mariposa ruins. Harold wants us to get a sample of the original FEV. He''s kind of tired of being a tree, and thinks that might be the key to giving him legs again."


    "What." Cass deadpanned. I was too busy trying to make sense of his earlier statement to say anything.


    "There are also those transmissions we''ve been getting about Jacobstown. Fawkes wants to go up there, see what amunity of friendly metahumans is like. But personally, I want to go up there to see if the rumors about Marcus are true. I''ve always wanted to meet one of the guys my dad travelled with, back in the day..."


    While Chris continued rambling on, I hopped off the hood and started making my way over to his hovercraft. I had a feeling he was going to take a while, and I wanted to see what this <em>thing</em> he was driving actually <em>was</em>.


    Crunch. Crack. Crunch. Snap. Yeah, that wasn''t going to get old.


    For as streamlined as this floating triangle appeared from a distance, the pped-out, cobbled together nature of the vehicle really started to shine through up close. The strangest thing was the varying levels of quality. Most of the exterior looked rusted and salvaged and crusty  ssic scavenger junk, basically. But then I''d see a part that looked brand new. <em>Shiny </em>brand new. Like <em>Jeeves</em> had just built it, or something. And it was really jarring to see such pristine, shinyponents attached to utter garbage.


    And then, I got a decent look at the nose art. I saw it before, but hadn''t been close enough to work out any details. And now that I could see what it was, it stopped me dead in my tracks. The paint was cracked and faded, but unmistakable: a yellow Vault Door cog-wheel, with a "101" printed on the inside.


    An image in my head shed of those five eyebots in the divide, prophesying at me on the copsed building-bridge:


    "<em>fInd thE hUndrEd And fIrst sOn, And fOllOw hIm. hE wIll brIng yOU tO thE mOthEr, And AwAkEn thE slEEpIng gIAnt!"</em>


    "Hundred and first son..." I muttered to myself, staring at the symbol. I had no reason to believe them. Hell, half of what those crazy, half-broken eyebots had said sounded like utter nonsense...


    And yet...


    "Hello?" Christopher snapped his fingers in front of my face, and broke me out of my stupor. "Earth to The Courier?"


    "Uh... yeah. Yeah, sorry. I guess I was spacing out, trying to make some sense out of this..." I gestured at the hovercraft. "What the fuck is this thing, anyway?"


    "Ah, you like? I built this hunk of junk myself out of parts I salvaged! I call it The Roadkill!" Chris smiled, patting the side of the hovercraft. "And trust me, it really is all roadkill''d up in there. Lots of zip-ties and duct tape. Freiburger and Finnegan would be proud."


    "I''m calling bullshit," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "How do you make a hovercraft out of salvage? What, did you use the anti-grav thruster from, like, a dozen Mr. Handy robots or something?"


    "About 20 Mr. Handy''s, actually. Give or take." Chris grinned wide, and waggled his eyebrows behind his sunsses. I just started rubbing my temple.


    "Ask a stupid question..." I muttered.


    "Believe it or not, it wasn''t always a hover ship like this," he said. "It started off as a sort of dune-buggy, go-kart kinda thing. Back then, it was pretty much just some wheels, a chassis, an engine, a roll cage... It didn''t even have a seat at first. Just some cushions I found and bolted to the frame. And over time, I just kept building on it, and tinkering, and adding on more and more <em>stuff </em>until... voil."


    "Seriously?" I asked, staring at the thing. I honestly couldn''t reconcile the idea of a go-kart turning into the hovercraft in front of me.


    "Seriously! My only regret in turning this into a skimmer is that it can''t do burnouts anymore." Chris lifted his metal-d arm, and patted the side of the craft. "But who knows? Maybe I''ll give it wheels again one day." And it was at that particr moment that I realized why the arm looked so strange: I heard the whirring of servos and hydraulics as it moved.


    "Hang on a sec. Is that a cybeic arm?" I asked, pointing at it a bit needlessly. Really, it was another stupid question  now that I was <em>looking</em> at it, <strong>of course</strong> it was cybeic! The hand, especially, looked like it came straight from a robot.


    "You like?" he asked, holding up his arm to show it off. "I needed a new arm after Old Olney, so I built this from a spare set of T-51b I had lying around, and just hard-wired the Pip Boy into it." He chuckled to himself. "Yeah, <strong>that</strong> was a fun day. I had to walk all the way back to The Citadel with a bleeding stump, carrying my own severed limb under my other arm, and I even had a Te coil strapped to my back. All while a pack of deathws were chasing me. Good times!"


    "Sounds like it," I said, holding up my own cybeic for him to see. "I got mine after fighting about a million techno-zombies."


    "Oh, WOW!" Chris leaned in close, grabbing hold of my arm to inspect it and practically drooling. "I almost didn''t realize this was metal! Christ, Rothchild would cream his pants from gusset to knee if he saw this level of craftsmanship, this is <em>gorgeous</em>!"


    "<strong>AHEM.</strong>" Fawkes gravelly baritone echoed. "Chris, didn''t you want to ask him something?" Cass was making her way over to us, trying to catch up to Fawkes'' massive strides, and both dogs were also trotting underfoot.


    "Hm? OH! Right, yes! Thank you!" Chris pped Fawkes on the arm, and turned back to me. "Sorry, I can  I''m easily distracted. Sometimes. Shiny object, you know..." He then turned back to Fawkes with a smile. "Like that time we got lost in Alton, remember?"


    "How can I forget?" Fawkes rolled his eyes. "You only dyed us leaving Illinois for about a month."


    "What can I say?" Chris shrugged. "I''m obsessive about finding secrets and finishing sidequests!"


    "Obsessivepulsive, maybe..." Fawkes let out a throaty chuckle. While the two giants joked, I edged my way over to Cass.


    "Is this what it looks like from the outside?" I whispered. She tapped her chin, thinking for a second... and then nodded.


    "Kinda," she said. I couldn''t help but shake my head andugh.


    "How do you put up with me?" I asked.


    "SCANNING!" I suddenly heard Christopher shout, causing both Cass and I to look up in confusion. "You said earlier that you were scanning for an energy signature, right? But I wasn''t the one you were trying to find? Who were you trying to find?"


    I hesitated for what felt like <em>years</em> before giving him an answer.


    "That... could take a while to exin," I scratched at the back of my head. Chris justughed, and hopped into his hovercraft, gesturing for us toe over to join him. The windshield pulled back further, and several more panels seemed to retract out of the roof, giving us a much clearer view of the inside.


    "Less than you might think," he leaned back in the pilot seat. "Try me."


    I had no reason to trust this guy. I just <em>met </em>him, and the disjointed ramblings and unclear prophecies of a quintet of malfunctioning robots in that sandsted hell was hardlypelling proof. But there was just... there was <em>something </em>about him that I couldn''t exin. A gut feeling, maybe, but not the sort that I was used to:


    <em>This was one of the Good Guys.</em>


    I nced over at Cass, hoping she might be able to offer some kind of assistance. The only answer I got was a vague nonmittal shrug.


    "I''m looking for an assassin," I said finally. "A girl. She uses advanced stealth tech, is carrying an arsenal of energy weapons..." An image of Tuera''s face - halfway hidden behind a cascade of raven hair and looking at me with piercing green eyes - shed before my eyes. "I... I don''t know what she looks like. I''ve only ever seen her wearing a full-body stealth suit and a face concealing helmet."


    "This helmet of hers..." Chris leaned halfway out of the hovercraft, and stuck two fingers up on either side of his head. "Yellow eyes? Looks like it has horns? Kind of a beak-looking thing over the mouth?"


    "Uh..." I took a step back in surprise. "Y-yeah... how did you "


    "I don''t believe it," Chris shook his head andughed, looking up at Fawkes. "We''ve found <em>another</em> one!"


    "They''re persistent," Fawkes nodded, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "I''ll give them that. Every time we find another Enve cell and shut it down, two more seem to appear."


    "Like ying whack-a-mole!" Chris agreed, nodding. "Or like fighting a hydra. We just keep chopping and chopping and chopping, and they just keep growing back more heads!"


    "Waitaminute," Cass interrupted; both Fawkes and Chris looked up. "You two know about the <em>Enve</em>?" Cass and I both looked at each other in shock. "Do... do you know who we''re talkin'' about, then?"


    "Probably not the <em>specific</em> assassin you''re looking for, no," Chris pushed his sunsses up his nose. "But Fawkes, Dogmeat and I havee across this sort of thing before, thest few years. Ain''t that right, boy?" He leaned further out of the hovercraft, and Dogmeat leapt up, barking and panting excitedly. He scratched his dog behind the ears, and then looked back up at Fawkes. "So, what do you think? Could it be like those idiots we fought at Fort Bragg?"


    "We''d know if it was heavy infantry," Fawkes said, shaking his head. "Enve grunts don''t <strong>do</strong> silent. No... stealth tech sounds more like that base we found in Joliet. Remember?" Chris nodded in agreement, and snapped his fingers.


    "Right, yes, the research outpost we ransacked outside Chicago! You''re right!" He slid back in the chair, and started fiddling with a terminal inside his hovercraft. Cass and I both looked at each other in shock.


    "Did he say " Cass began.


    "Yeah," I nodded.


    "Wasn''t ED-E from Chicago or something?" She asked.


    "He got fixed there," I said, remembering the audio log from ages ago. But before I could continue thinking:


    "Found it!" Chris said, grinning at us excitedly.


    "Found... what?" I asked. He waved at me to look.


    "Pretty sure I found that Enve assassin you''re looking for," Chris said, pointing at the monitor. It showed a ck-and-green topographical map that was only partially filled in, and a blinking green waypoint triangle.


    "What  already? You already found her <em>that fast</em>?! <em>HOW</em>?!" I asked, staring in ck-jawed disbelief at the screen.


    "I''ve seen Enve stealth suits before," he said. "Chameleon light prization field generators. They don''t work quite the same as stealth boys. They''re invisible to visible light, radar, infrared, ultraviolet, the whole nine yards. The trick is to search for irregr magfield signatures, caused by transitional theta-wave radiation."


    The little British voice in my head was jumping up and down, screaming at me.


    "That sounds like a loada bullshit-technobabble t''me," Cass said. Chris nodded at her, grinning like an idiot.


    "Probably because it is."


    "So..." I finally found my voice, and pointed at thebel stuck to the top of the monitor. "Is that why this isbeled ''The Plot Device'' then?"


    "Pretty much," he leaned back in the pilot seat again, and started tapping his chin. "Only thing is, I haven''t mapped out much of the Mojave. I mean, I only just <em>got </em>here, so I haven''t discovered many locations yet. So, while I can track the energy signature, I''m not exactly sure where <em>that </em>is." He prodded the waypoint on the screen.


    "Well, my map is pretty decently filled out," I said. "I might be able to figure out where that''sing from. Hang on..." I reached down to my Pip Boy, and started cycling to the map feature. I checked the map on his screen, and then on mine, and then back on his, tried to make sure the maps were in sync...


    And then the bottom fell out of my gut.


    "Ah, <strong>shit</strong>," Cass muttered,ing around to get a look at me. "I know that face. This isn''t good, is it?"


    "Are... are you absolutely sure that''s where the signal ising from?" I asked, pointing at the screen on my wrist.


    "As sure as I can be," he said, not understanding why I was so worried. "Why?"


    "Because if I''m looking at this map right... then that signal is just outside Sloan..." I gulped, and Cass went white. "It''sing from <em>Quarry Junction</em>." Cass'' reaction, while predictable, was fairly on the nose.


    "<strong>FUCK.</strong>"


    A few minutester, we were all on the road to Quarry Junction. My Corvega was in front  since I knew the terrain better  and Chris'' hovercraft was following close behind. He''d kept the roof mostly open, turning the thing into a convertible, and Fawkes was standing up in the back with his big gun mounted on a swivel.


    I''m gonna bepletely honest, here. Christopher''s reaction to the news of where we were heading was not at all what I expected: "<em>Deathws? Sweet! Let''s go!</em>"


    "Are you sure this is a good idea, man?" Cass asked from the passenger seat.


    "I... I don''t know," I managed to stammer out. "Probably not." I just kept my focus on the road ahead of me.


    "I mean," Cass shifted in her seat, looking out the back window. She jabbed her thumb at the hovercraft. "Can we even trust this guy? He seems a little..."


    "Off?" I guessed.


    "I was gonna say crazy," Cass corrected. "Like... crazypared to <strong>you</strong>."


    "Thanks for that," I couldn''t help but chuckle. "And you''re right. My head is telling me to be cautious... but my gut is telling me we can trust him. But more than that..." I grit my teeth and kept my eyes fixed on the horizon ahead of me. "I <strong>need </strong>to find this assassin. And this is the best lead we''ve had, so I''m not going to give it up just because the British voice in my head is getting a bit squirrelly."


    "Why?" Cass asked. "Why d''ya need t''find her? You''ve been like this ever since yer tussle with''r on th'' rooftops th'' other day. Before that, y''wanted to put''r down, and now y''seem hell-bent on <em>catchin''</em> her. Seriously, what''s so important ''bout finding her?" The question had clearly been on her mind for a while.


    "Do you want to go back?" I shot back, deflecting the question.


    "Fuck no!" she shouted. "I ain''t turnin'' back now!"


    "It''s not going to be enough to stop her," I said, finallying up with what I hoped was a decent sounding excuse. "If we don''t find out what she''s after, or what she''s been doing here in the Mojave, then I just <strong>know </strong>it''s gonnae back to bite me in the ass. Dead men tell no tales, and all that. Especially since Chris and Fawkes seem to know about the Enve, and that''s just bugging the fuck out of me, because that <em>doesn''t make sense</em>. Until we find out more, we bring her in alive. Because alive <strong>or</strong> dead, she''s gonna throw a wrench in the works. And causing chaos is <strong>my </strong>job!"


    Cass stared straight through me, narrowing her eyes. I don''t think she bought it.


    "I''ll stick by you, man. See this shit through to th'' end," she sighed. "Just... be sure this is really what y''wanna do. Alright?"


    "... Alright." I nodded back.


    WARNING! DEATHCLAWS AHEAD!


    That was the sign spray painted on the side of a gigantic piece of earth-moving equipment, abandoned and left to rust at the entrance to the limestone quarry. Huge swirling clouds of the chalky white dust were blowing through the air, covering everything in a thin film of grimy limestone. Combine that with the jagged canyon-like entrance to the quarry and the knowledge that deathws were waiting to ambush us at any moment, and it was almost like we were venturing into a miniature version of The Divide.


    "Right," I said, popping open the trunk of my Corvega. "I''m not taking any chances with this shit." I pulled out the anti-materiel rifle, made sure it was loaded with HE-round, and grabbed a few extra magazines. From behind me, I heard a long, drawn out whistle.


    "Damn! That is a <strong>nice</strong> piece of hardware!" Chris said, walking up behind me to get a look inside my trunk.


    "Hey, Cass? I''ve got a present for you." I grabbed a couple of AA-12 drum magazines I''d picked up from the Gun Runners the other day, and handed them to her. "Say hello to my friends: Omya Kaboom and all her siblings." Cass looked at the ammo drums quizzically.


    "Say what?"


    "Those are loaded with FRAG-12 rounds," I exined. "Each shell is a high explosive, armor piercing shaped-charge. Congrattions, your shotgun is now a full-auto grenadeuncher. Merry Christmas." Cass started grinning so broadly, I was afraid the top of her head was going to pop off and shower everyone in confetti.


    "Oh my god I love you," she said, and I honestly didn''t know if she was talking to me or her shotgun. Probably Long Dick Johnson.


    "Oh, HANG ON!" Chris leaned over my shoulder, looking down into the trunk of my car. "You didn''t say you had an alien ster!" That threw me for a loop. Sure, I was keeping that alien weapon in an easily essible, decently visible holster attached to the trunk lid, but I didn''t think anyone would recognize what it <em>was</em>.


    "Wait, how do you know abo " I turned on my heel, and came to a stop when I saw Chris pulling a pistol out of his thigh-holster. It was another alien pistol, identical to mine. "Oh, you are <strong>fuckin''</strong> with me."


    "Let me guess, you found it in a crashed flying saucer?" Chris asked. All I could do was weakly nod. "Yeah, that''s how I found Firnce, here. Little did I know what was waiting for me..." He spun the pistol around several times before holstering it. "It''s kinda funny; Fawkes and I had a bet on about where it crashed. Looks like I lost!" He startedughing, and turned on his heel to the quarry. "You''ll have to point out where itndedter. Now c''mon! Let''s go catch this Enve sneak!"


    He walked on ahead, bing more and more obscured by the swirling white limestone dust around us with every step. Dogmeat bounded on after him, so Fawkes, Cass, Roxie and I followed suit, trying to catch up. Part of me wanted to ask Fawkes if Chris was always like this... but I decided to keep my mouth shut. The less noise we made in deathw territory the better as far as I was concerned.


    For a few minutes, nothing happened. The six of us made our way into the quarry, and the only noise we heard was the sound of our own footsteps. The limestone dust storm started to settle, and I could finally see the actual quarry for the first time: apparently, we were skirting around the top-most edges. The pit in the center was massive and deep, ringed on all sides by the sheer cliff faces carved out of the rock, and even from this high up I could see several pools of stagnant, scummy green slime pretending it was water. All the abandoned mining equipment was still here, and the rusty metal buildings the NCR workers had used were all still intact... but I couldn''t see any deathws. The silence was deafening, and it was putting me on edge.


    "Alright, I''m bored," Chris said suddenly. He rolled back his shoulders, inhaled deeply, and then: "<strong>HEY DOUCHE-CLAWS! COME ON OUT, DINNER IS SERVED! ONE ORDER OF CRISPY VAULT DWELLER DOUSED IN SRIRACHA!</strong>"


    "What th'' fuck?!" Cass hissed, grabbing at him before I could. "Are you <em>nuts</em>?!" He didn''t get a chance to answer. I''m not sure he would''ve wanted to, anyway.


    "<strong>RRAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!</strong>"


    The loud, guttural roar that shook the rocks beneath our feet came from behind one of the nearby tin shacks. A massive ck w emerged, followed swiftly by the rest of the equally-massive jet-ck deathw. I couldn''t help but do a double take. Thest time I saw a deathw <em>that </em>big was in The Divide; I was silently d that <em>this </em>one wasn''t glowing and radioactive.


    Everyone  even Fawkes  started backing up at the sight... except Christopher. He just startedughing, cracked his knuckles, and ran headfirst into the jaws of death.


    "Now <strong>that </strong>is more <strong>like it</strong>!" Hisughter was <em>disturbingly </em>upbeat. The massive beast reared back, towering over all of us, and roared again. For half a second, it almost looked like Chris was going to get swallowed whole  the deathw''s mouth was certainly bigenough for that to be a realistic possibility  but instead, we were treated to the unmistakable crack of metal against bone. Somehow, he''d managed to leap up, and <em>punch</em> the deathw  <em>in the face!</em>  so hard that the two of them toppled backward.


    Straight off the edge of the cliff.


    "EXCELSIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRR!" Chris''ughing, shouting voice trailed off as both he and the deathw tumbled down into the pit below and out of sight. Cass and I stood there in stunned, ck-jawed silence for a few seconds.


    "What... the... fuck..." Cass muttered.


    "Don''t worry about him," Fawkes grunted in response, hefting up his massive gatlingser. "He does this kind of thing all the time. He''ll be back."


    And just like that, the sounds changed. The wind had stopped howling, and was reced by the echoing of growls and snarls and roars from every corner. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement off in the distance... dozens of scaly monsters crawling out of every nook and cranny, alling straight for us.


    "Break''s over,dies!" Fawkes bellowed, swinging the gatlingser around. "Time to go to work!" I mmed the bolt forward on the anti-materiel rifle. Cass seated the ammo drum and pulled back the AA-12''s charging handle. Even the two dogs were crouched back on their haunches, growling and snarling at the swiftly approaching deathws.


    The first of them scrambled up over the top. Followed by a second. And then a third...


    "OPEN UP!" I yelled  a bit pointlessly, as it turned out. Between the snarling of the dogs, the superheated fired of the gatlingser, the deafening roar of the AA-12, the monstrous boom of the anti-materiel rifle AND the battle cries and inarticte death wails of the giant mutant lizards as they were ripped into red sausage, there was absolutely <strong>no way</strong> my voice was heard by anyone.


    There weren''t that many of them. It wasn''t like the swarm of cazadores that descended on us earlier. But to be honest, they were <strong>deathws</strong>. They didn''t <strong>need</strong> numbers. Even with all the fire we wereying down, we only managed to drop two of them before the third in the back closed the distance.


    And one was all they needed.


    "SCATTER!" I yelled out, chambering another round. I''d already fired six shots with this thing, and was going to need to reload soon. I started backing up, but the deathw was already lunging straight at me with its mouth wide open. VATS kicked in unexpectedly, and the monster <em>didn''t even seem to slow down</em>.


    "Fuck you!" I jammed the end of the barrel straight down its open maw and pulled the trigger. The inside of its mouth lit up briefly before the back of its head exploded in a shower of brains and scales. Sparks and smoke and fire spilled out between its teeth, and the limp sack of meat crashed into the ground at my feet.


    "You''re luggage..." I growled, pulling the barrel out of its mouth and taking a few teeth with it. I didn''t have time to celebrate, because by the time I chambered thest round, another deathw was leaping over the dead one, aiming to make a meal out of my face.


    "SHIT!" The jets in my rocket boots kicked in, boosting me up a few feet  and not a second too soon. A massive w swiped through the air, tearing through the top of the deathw corpse like a hot knife through butter. It just kept speeding past me, carried by its own inertia, and I started falling. I twisted myself around as fast as I could, and reached out to grab hold of one of the horns  and then I was off! Carried away on the back of a bucking, writhing mutant lizard.


    "Why do I always <strong>do this</strong>?!" I yelled to myself, holding on to the horn as tightly as I could, doing everything in my power to keep getting thrown off. Not easy, when it feels like your cybeic limb is going to get ripped free of its housing.


    I slipped into VATS to try and give myself some breathing room. Time slowed down a little... and that''s when I noticed something strange. There was some...<em>thing</em> attached to the back of the deathw''s head. Something foreign.


    Something <em>metal</em>.


    "Fuck it." I jammed the barrel against the foreign object and fired. There was a shower of sparks, and a blinding sh; I was almost knocked off the back of the deathw by a st of heat battering me in the chest and peppering my armored form with fire and shrapnel. The deathw screeched and shuddered, and the horn I was holding on to was ripped free. I leapt off the back, and the jets kicked in; the monster kept going, and smashed head-first into a cliff wall.


    Inded on my feet a good 20 feet from the carcass, and kept sliding backward. I released the empty magazine, grabbed a fresh one, and wheeled around to try and find more targets.


    "Sheason!" I heard Cass yell. "This way!"


    The quarry had turned into a ughterhouse. There was meat and blood and torn up body parts <em>everywhere</em>. But, for the moment, it seemed like the deathws had stopped. I followed the voice, and found Cass standing on top of a bloody pile of meat that used to be the top half of a deathw.


    "Where''s Fawkes?" I asked, looking around. "Hell, where''d Rox and Dogmeat go?"


    "Down in th'' crater, lookin'' fer th'' Wanderer, I think," Cass motioned with her head to her left. The next thing I knew, one of the buildings at the far side of the crater exploded; a ball of fire consumed it from the bottom up, and the tin shack on stilts copsed into nothing. Cass startedughing. "Ah, guess they found ''im."


    I wasn''tughing. I wasn''t looking at the exploding building anymore, either. I was looking at one of the conveyor-belt crushing machines sticking up above everything else. I still had VATS on, and it practically lit up the ck-d figure standing on the roof like she was a neon sign.


    "DOWN!" I yelled, tossing the rifle aside and tackling Cass. The two of us went down like a sack of potatoes, taking cover behind the huge deathw carcass. A huge sonic boom buffeted the air above us, and everything was bathed in the bright blue light of an energy weapon discharge.


    "Mother fuck!" Cass blurted out. I rolled off her, pulling the Jury Rigger off my back and pulling out the grapnel gun. She grabbed her AA-12, pushed off the ground and steadied her aim with the deathw carcass we were using as cover. The shotgun fired round after round at the crushing machine,ying down decent cover fire. The building was mmed again and again by the explosive slugs.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I sailed through the air, searching below me, trying to find her again. The crushing machine was starting to copse in on itself from all the explosives hitting it, but... THERE! She was sliding down one of the conveyor belts, trying to get away from the twisting metal and shrapnel. The jet boots kicked in, and it gave me the push I needed but it flipped me upside down as well. I was right above her...


    CLUNK.


    A mass of blue holorifle cubes hit the conveyor belt right in front of her, and smashed straight through it like it had been hit with a super sledge. I hoped it might slow her down some, but she just vaulted over it and kept going. By now, I''d twisted myself upright andnded on the conveyor belt myself, too far away to grab hold of her... just as the whole structure buckled in on itself.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I''d aimed the grapnel at a spot on the ground ahead of her, and the next thing I knew I was crashing into the back of her. I grabbed hold of her, and everything went upside down as the two of us crashed in a mass of limbs into the hard stone floor of the quarry pit.


    "Gotcha!"


    In hindsight, that was a bit premature. I may have been doing my best to try and grapple her and pin her down, but it was no good. A grip like a vice grabbed hold of my cybeic hand, followed by a pair of legs wrapping around my arm... and a boot kicking me in the face.


    "I''m not! Letting! Go!" I shouted between blows to the head. Eventually, I grabbed her by the foot and tried to push up off the ground. But she just turned the motion around on me, and she threw me off her. I rolled, twisted around, and finally my feet found purchase. I kicked up off the ground, and saw a roundhouse kicking for my face.


    "Damnit, girl!" I reached out and grabbed the kick with my cybeic arm; her foot came to a dead stop. "C''mon, Tuera! It''s me! It''s Sheason!" She kicked off the ground and twisted out of my grip, back flipping through the air away from me. Shended on her feet, and I did my best to prepare myself for her next attack. She leapt off the ground, reached back for a punch...


    <strong>ZZZAAAAAP!</strong>


    "GYAAANNGH!" She screamed, convulsing in midair as dark blue lightning rippled over her. The electricity arced and popped and sparked, and vanished just as quickly as it appeared. She was still being carried by her momentum, even if she no longer seemed to have any control over where she was going. She tumbled like a ragdoll in a useless mass of limbs, and I rushed forward to catch her without even thinking.


    "What the " I breathed out, dropping to my knees. I held her in my arms, but she had gonepletely limp. The suit was warm to the touch, but not hot  certainly not hot enough to exin the wisps of steam and smoke curling away from the suit.


    I was in a daze, and could barely think. What the <strong>fuck</strong> just happened?


    "There, that should about do it," I heard a voice from above me. I looked up to see the Lone Wanderer  still smiling, but covered in a considerable amount of deathw blood  standing over us. In his hand was a pistol; it wasn''t the alien ster, because it was too angr and box like. It <em>almost</em> looked like aser pistol... but it wasn''t <em>quite</em> the right shape for that.


    "Wh  What did  Is she " I stammered out, unable to think properly.


    "Don''t worry," Chris said. "She''s not dead. Just tazed. She should be out cold for the next few hours or so." I looked up at him, then back down to the girl in my arms, and back up at him again.


    "What <strong>is </strong>that?" I asked, gesturing to the pistol in his hand. It wasn''t much, but I had to focus on something to try and pull myself out of this stupor.


    "Compliance regtor," he said, turning it around in his hands. "It''s a neat little toy a picked up in Zion canyon. It''s basically a stun gun on steroids." He paused, apparently confused by my expression. "What? Did you think I was going to <em>kill</em> her or something?"

 Chapter 150: Deep Strike

    Chapter 150: Deep Strike


    <em>Men anddies! Boys and girls! Prepare to be astounded, bedazzled, and otherwise stupefied! I''m your host, Three Dog, master of ceremonies! And this... is Gxy News Radio! We''ve got Bob Crosby, Billie Holiday, and the firstdy of song herself, E Fitzgerald, all lined up in the next hour, but right now we''ve got the iparable Louis Armstrong, bringin'' us a little story about "Mack The Knife."</em>


    Doubt.


    There were a great many thoughts roaming about inside my head at the moment, but the one thing that seemed to override everything else was an overwhelming sense of doubt. The assassin hadn''t reacted at all when I tried to talk to her. No reaction from my name. No reaction to the name "Tuera," either. I was mentally going over all the other encounters with her over thest two months... And I was starting to question whether or not I''d <em>actually </em>heard what I <em>thought</em> I''d heard during our fight on the rooftops.


    All the connections I''d made in my head, pointing to this assassin being Tuera... had I just imagined all of it? Was I <em>wrong</em>? Hell, most of the connections I was thinking of came from dreams brought on by familiar phrases, anyway. I had no proof, one way or another... It''s entirely possible that this assassin <em>wasn''t</em> Tuera. Maybe I really <em>was </em>just chasing ghosts, like I told Emily a week ago. Maybe... I just <em>wanted </em>it to be true.


    Maybe I just wanted to see her again.


    Click.


    "Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked, trying to force myself away from this train of thought.


    "Oh, absolutely," Chris looked up from his work, grinned at me and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. "I had Proctor Bowditch cook up these restraints for me a while back. They''re made from adamantium  it''s the same kind of metal they used to make Pip Boys! These things could survive a nuclear st at ground zero without a scratch!"


    "Let''s not test that out," I deadpanned.


    Click.


    "There," he said, stepping back from his work and pping the dust from his hands. "That should do it."


    The assassin was still unconscious after being zapped by the Compliance Regtor. Her arms were held behind her by a set of heavy manacles thatpletely encased her hands in metal. There was another pair of restraints holding her feet in ce  alsopletely surrounding them with metal. We still hadn''t unmasked her yet.


    Part of me didn''t want to.


    "Oh, wait! Hang on." Christopher pulled out a small remote from one of the pouches on his belt and flipped the switch. There was a loud humming sound, followed by a metal <strong>CLANNGGG!</strong> as the two restraints mmed into one another. He turned to me with another thumbs up. "Electroma!"


    "... How often have you done this?" I asked, just a bit put out by how readily prepared he was for this particr situation. He shrugged.


    "A few times. Enough to know that she''s not going anywhere. I mean, unless we pull off that helmet and discover that she''s been Harry Houdini this whole time! But since this isn''t an episode of Scooby Doo, we should be fine."


    "Riiiight..." I said, not really understanding what he was talking about. I shook my head, trying to get back my focus. "Good. I don''t want her getting away before we can question her." I turned and looked at the pile of weapons and gear we''d collected from her before Chris brought out the space-age manacles. "And you''re sure we can''t use <strong>any</strong> of this?"


    "In all likelihood? Probably not," Chris regarded at the pile of weapons and tools. "The Enve has started booby-trapping a lot of their equipment with DNA scanners. If someone tries to use it and they''re not the owner..." he mimed an explosion with his hands. He then started chuckling to himself. "It''s <em>possible</em> they started doing that after I kept stealing their toys."


    "Alright. I still think we should take it with us, just in case. Just... make sure we keep it away from her." Chris nodded. I turned away, tapping the side of my helmet and checking my Pip Boy to make sure I was on the right frequency. "Hey, Yes Man? You reading me?"


    "Hi there!" the chipper AI buzzed in my ear. "What can I do for you today?"


    "Is there any ce in the Lucky 38 we can use as a makeshift prison?" I asked, watching as Chris picked up the unconscious assassin with one hand and tossed her onto his shoulder like she was a ragdoll.


    "Oh, sure!" Yes Man said, without even a second''s hesitation. "There are a few holding cells underneath the tower, if I''m reading these schematics correctly. In fact... it seems like there''s a whole wing underneath the casino dedicated entirely to security..." There was a surprisingly long pause. "It looks like there''s a sectionbeled ''supermax.'' Does that help?"


    "Yeah..." I said, watching as Chris tossed the unconscious assassin onto my Corvega''s backseat. "Yeah, I think that''ll do nicely. Get one ready to receive visitors." I continued turning around as I spoke to Yes Man, and saw both Cass and Fawkes standing next to the Lone Wanderer''s hovercraft. Both dogs were underfoot; it looked like Dogmeat and Roxie were fighting over a bloody chunk of deathw meat. A severed deathw head was lying on the ground nearby, as well... and it reminded me that I needed to ask Christer if he knew what those metal helmets were all about.


    "Hey, big man?" Cass said, gesturing at the massive yellow super mutant. "I''m kinda curious about somethin'', an'' maybe you can answer."


    "Yes?" Fawkes said, plucking the half-finished cigar out of his mouth and raising a hairless eyebrow.


    "Not meanin'' t''be rude''r nothin''... but..." she began, leaning against the side of the "101" decal on the nose. "What''s with all th'' nonsensical bullshit Chris keeps spoutin''?" Fawkes coughed several times. That was the unmistakable sound of a man presented with an embarrassing subject.


    "Ah. Yes. That." He cleared his throat again. "You must understand something about Christopher... He is..." he paused, running a massive, scabby hand across his bald scalp. "When it really matters, you can count on Chris to deliver. He''s skilled, resourceful, intelligent, and demonstrably indestructible. I trust him with my life  and have done, many times, in fact. If not for his assistance, I would be locked within the bowels of Vault 87 to this day. But... I admit, sometimes he can be a bit..." He paused again.


    "Nuts?" Cass offered up helpfully. "Crazy? Loopy? Utterly bonkers? Out to lunch? Moonstruck?"


    "I was going to say entric," Fawkes said with a nod, cutting her off before she got too far. "But yes."


    "Has he always been like this?" I asked. Fawkes opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He screwed up his face, apparently trying to think of how best to phrase what he wanted to say. And then, the question was answered for us.


    "No, not always," Chris answered, walking up behind me. "Life was a LOT different for me when I first stepped out of the Vault. It wasn''t until Point Lookout that things got <em>interesting</em>." He smiled broadly and waggled his eyebrows behind his mirrored shades. Cass just looked confused.


    "Point... what? Point Lookout? What is that, issat a ce''r somethin?" Chris nodded.


    "Yeah, it''s a swamp south of DC, off the coast of Marnd. Chock full of rednecks." He leaned down, and pointed at his forehead with the pinky finger of his robot hand. "You see this scar?" Cass and I both leaned in to get a better view  and sure enough, there was a surprisinglyrge scar on his head that I hadn''t noticed before. It looked like a letter "C" and most of it was hidden underneath his hair... But now that I could see, it was quiterge. It also happened to be in almost <em>exactly</em> the same ce on <em>his</em> head as the scar from Benny''s bullet was on <em>mine</em>.


    "Oh man, that''s a doozy..." Cass elbowed me in the ribs. "S''almost as big as some''ve <em>yer</em> scars!"


    "Yeah," I nodded. "Almost." Cass snorted out augh.


    "You see, what it happened was," Chris continued with a chuckle, standing up straight again. "I went down to Point Lookout and was shanghaied by a pack of tribal rednecks. They gave me this really nasty hallucinogen they called ''Mother Punga,'' and while I waspletely off my face, tripping <em><strong>balls</strong></em>, they carved out a chunk of my brain. And you know what? Nothing has really been the same since!" Heughed, scratching the side of his head with the scar. "I still have the chunk they took out, actually. I keep it in a ss jar of embalming fluid, right next to my bobblehead collection!"


    Cass'' face was a mixture of horror, disgust, and bewilderment... but I just started nodding.


    "You know, I can sympathize," I shrugged, tapping the side of my helmet. "I actually got my <em>entire brain</em> scooped out by mad scientists, recently. I just carried on without it for a week and a half. I mean, I <em>eventually</em> got it back, but running around without it didn''t seem to bother me none." Chris smiled at me again, pping me on the shoulder.


    "Lucky for us, we didn''t need those bits!" He said, grinning broadly.


    "I guess not!" I agreed. The two of us startedughing. Fawkes, on the other hand, let out a sound that seemed to be a mixture of a heavy sigh and a groan.


    "Oh, man. No wonder you two seem to get along so well..." Fawkes snorted, trying to stifle augh himself. "You''re both <strong>brainless</strong>."


    The first part of the drive back to Vegas was pretty uneventful. Because Christopher and Fawkes seemed like they could help us with this problem, they decided to stick with us for the time being. And that was especially good, considering that the unconscious assassin sprawled on the backseat of my Corvega meant there was no space for Roxie. So, the two dogs were riding with Chris and Fawkes in the Roadkill  along with all the gear we''d confiscated  and I was leading the way back to the 38. We didn''t run into anything between Quarry Junction and Vegas. No Fiends, no Legion patrols, no cazadores, no deathws...


    So, of course, everything was bound to go wrong eventually. We managed to get almost all the way to The Strip front gates before things wentpletely sideways.


    "Heads up," I said, slowing my Corvega to a crawl.


    "Wait, what?" Cass turned around in her seat to look out front; she''d been kneeling backward in the passenger seat for most of the ride, pointing the Compliance Regtor at the assassin tied up in the backseat. Just in case. "Holy... fuck me, man. What''s with th'' crowd?"


    Ahead of us, a massive gathering of folks were impeding our progress. I couldn''t tell exactly how many there were  mainly because I couldn''t be bothered to count  but it was enough topletely block off Vegas Boulevard. It looked like they were all clustered around, looking at something...


    "Something''s wrong," I turned off the car and stepped out. "I''m gonna go check it out." I pointed at the assassin. "Make sure she doesn''t go anywhere." Cass nodded.


    "Don''t worry ''bout a thing, this bitch ain''t leavin''."


    "Hey, what''s the holdup?" I heard Chris off to my left; the Roadkill was floating along next to my car, and he was standing up to get a better view.


    "Not rightly sure..." I said, ncing at the crowd over my shoulder. "Could be trouble. Wanna check it out?" He didn''t even wait for me to finish before hopping out of his hovercraft. I smiled under my helmet, and the two of us made our way to the crowd. We didn''t get more than five feet before somebody noticed us.


    "Hey... uh..." a man in a check shirt stepped away from the crowd and started stammering. "You... are you that... you''re that Courier, aren''t you?" I nodded. "Maybe... maybe you know what this is? It, uh, it fell out of the sky..."


    "It <em>what</em>?" Chris and I said, practically in unison. I don''t know what he was thinking, but I know for certain the bottom of my gut had fallen out. The two of us muscled our way past the crowd, until we finally got to the center...


    "What the fuck?" I said aloud. Arge non-descript metal cylinder, about three feet high and a foot across, was buried in the asphalt. The ground around the strange device was scorched, and several pieces of broken road were scattered about the ce, lending credence to the statement that it fell out of the sky... but other than that, there wasn''t anything readily identifiable about the device. I''m not really sure what I was expecting, but <em>this </em> whatever it was  wasn''t it.


    "Oh, <strong>no</strong>," Chris breathed out next to me. "No, no, no, no, no..." I looked over to him and he was staring straight up into the sky. "Of course... it just <strong>had</strong> to be a cloudless day, too, didn''t it?" Chris grabbed me by the shoulder. "All these people are in danger. We''ve got to get them away from here! Now!"


    I looked around at the crowd of people surrounding us. It didn''t seem like any of them heard what he said  or, if they did, they didn''t care. So, I did the first thing I could think of to clear the crowd: I pulled out Roscoe, and fired three shots into the pavement. Within seconds, everyone started screaming and the crowd scattered.


    "Alright, what next?" I asked, quickly holstering Roscoe.


    "Guys?" Cass stuck her head out of my car. "Th'' fuck''s goin'' on?"


    "Well, if it''s just the one, then we still have time..." Chris just kept looking back up at the sky. "When the third one hits, things are "


    There was a loud, screeching whistle from behind me, followed by a heavy thud. Everyone turned in the direction of the sound, just in time to see arge cloud of dust and smoke begin to pour out of a nearby side street, amid the screams of panicked Freesiders.


    "We''re running out of time!" Chris said, the undisguised panic evident in his voice. "FAWKES! Get the Roadkill out of sight!" The super mutant nodded, shifting his bulk from the mounted gun into the pilot seat with surprising ease. Roxie leapt out of the way, and bounded over to my car, hopping inside. The hovercraft closed up and when it started floating away, Chris turned back to me. "We''re gonna need guns, and fast!"


    "Well, we''ve got some " I pointed at the Corvega, but Chris shook his head and cut me off.


    "We need <strong>ALL </strong>of the guns!" He shouted at me. "The <strong>biggest</strong> guns you have!" I nodded, snapping my fingers as if I knew what he was talking about. I didn''t, obviously, but I was rolling with it, because this was starting to worry me. Cazadores? No problem for this dude. Deathws? Piece of cake. Whatever was about to go down had him well and truly spooked, and <strong>that</strong> didn''t seem good.


    "Cass!" I said, turning on my heel. "Take the car back to the 38, and have Yes Man lock up our guest." I tossed her the keys, and she caught them with a nod. "Then get Stripe and Sasha, have them get here as soon as possible. Tell him it''s a Code Green. They''ll know what to do." I popped the trunk on my car and pulled out the anti-materiel rifle, the Jury Rigger, and as many grenades as I could carry.


    "Are you sure?" Cass asked, with worry in her voice. "I mean... it''s the middle of the day. You sure you want Stripe out in the open?" I shrugged, mming the trunk shut.


    "Well, Chris did say we need the biggest guns we have. Now go! We probably don''t have much time before..." I paused, looking back to Chris briefly. "... whatever is about to happen." Cass paused for a second or two, but eventually nodded, sliding past Roxie and into the drivers seat. The Corvega roared off down the road, and I turned back to Chris; he was talking into his Pip Boy.


    "Sally! I''ve got an enemy Deep Strike iing, get the Winter Contingency prepped and ready to go!" he said, fiddling with one of the knobs. There was a burst of static, and suddenly I heard a perky young female voice.


    "Roger Wilco, Captain Cosmos!" the cheery girl said, amidst a hail of static.


    "<strong>Not</strong> the time, Sal! Just do it!" His Pip Boy beeped, and he started scanning the rooftops. "You better find some cover, before they arrive... if you can nk them, then we might have a chance..."


    "nk <em>who</em>?" I asked. "You still haven''t exined what''s going on!"


    There was another screech, followed by a thud that was just as loud as the one before. Another dust cloud started billowing out of a street to our right. Behind us, the first metal cylinder started humming and hissing; I looked back just in time to see the top pop open, revealing a spinning, shing yellow light.


    "We don''t have time! They''re going to Deep Strike into this location any <em>second</em>!" he said, shoving me away and making his way to a nearby alley. "Get to the rooftops, trust me!"


    "What are you gonna do?" I asked, pulling out the grapnel. He let out a single nervousugh.


    "What do you think? Draw their fire, of course!" He seemed to have a bit more of his usual confidence back, because he ducked behind the corner and pressed a finger to his mouth. The top of the cylinder continued opening up, and suddenly a bright yellowser shot into the sky; simrsers appeared from thending sites of the others, creating a pseudo-pyramid shape made out ofsers.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    By the time I reached the roof and took cover behind one of the parapets, I was letting out a string of curses. My hand had gone for the button on my belt only to realize that it wasn''t there  oh, for FUCK sake! I was wearing the <em>Gun Runner</em> armor, because I had been expecting a straight up fight! Of all the times to leave Sue behind! No wonder she was quieter than usual, she <em>wasn''t there</em>!


    The crack of a sonic boom filled the air, and thesers disappeared... but the <em>light </em>didn''t. All along the street, ethereal lights started flickering in air just above the road. When the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I could smell the ozone even through the gas mask, I knew instantly what was going on. The street seemed to warp and bloat with so many teleport signatures ripping through the fabric of space and time all at once. The shadows began to take shape, each arrival punctuated by a crack of yellow lightning: ten... twenty... <em>thirty</em>...


    Within seconds, the street was filled with soldiers and robots. Most of the figures that had arrived were humanoid robots. I had to do a double take  at first, they looked like the robots I''d fought in the Big Empty when I squared off against the power mad ZAX. But then I realized they were much more heavily armed and armored. There were bigger figures among the new arrivals as well  bigger because they were wearing <em>power armor, </em>and all of them were carrying energy weapons. Even from this distance, I could see important details sticking out on their helmets: yellow eyes, horns on the side, a beak-like covering where the mouth should be...


    <strong>Enve</strong>. These soldiers were <em>Enve</em>! How is that <em>possible</em>?!


    Of course, all the robots and power armored Enve soldiers were bad enough, but there was one figure there that seemed to dwarf them all. If I thought Chris and Fawkes were massive, I was sorely mistaken  <em>this</em> dude was practically a <em>walking</em><em>mountain</em>. He towered over the other soldiers in power armor, and I couldn''t tell if all the extra bulk (and height!) was from the heavy armor he was wearing, or what. But I do know that he wasn''t armed with an energy weapon like the other soldiers and robots. He was carrying a massive warhammer that must have been <em>longer</em> than I was <em>tall</em>, and he had a truly <em>ridiculous</em> metal tower shield strapped to his other arm.


    "Spread out and find him!" the monster of a man bellowed out as he strode through the Enve troops; they all got out of his way, like they were afraid he was going to step on them. "The surveince drones say that Vault pest should be around here somewhere..."


    "And they''d be right!" Chris yelled back, stepping out from the alley and walking calmly to the center of the boulevard. Most of the troops raised their weapons, but didn''t fire just yet. The huge one just kept walking forward, and his boomingughter echoed off every wall.


    "Ah... my old enemy!" He bellowed, raising up his warhammer and pointing at Chris with the top of the hammer. "You cannot hide from <strong>me</strong>!"


    "Who''s hiding?" Chris shot back, adding: "<em>Pansy!</em>" The huge armored man roared with anger.


    "MY! NAME! IS! <strong>PANZER</strong>!" he yelled back, lifting up the hammer and grabbing it with both hands. The top of the warhammer opened up, revealing arge-bore gun barrel. The muzzle sh of the missile firing out of the end was like a pound of exploding C4. It was such a distraction, that I almost didn''t notice the faint blue shimmer around Chris...


    I didn''t have much time to notice anyway, because the next thing I knew, there was a massive explosion filling the street where Chris had been standing. The street was torn up by the fireball, sending shards and shrapnel flying in every direction.


    "What th'' fuck..." I muttered, keeping low under the roof wall. I needed to get into a better position  to escape, if nothing else. There''s no way anyone could survive that...


    "OPEN FIRE, YOU <strong>IDIOTS</strong>!" The giant  Panzer, apparently  yelled. "He''s " I didn''t hear what he was, because Panzer was cut off by the sounds of a rapidly firing gatlingser. I peeked over the wall, and saw a figure walking out of the giant cloud of smoke billowing out of the crater in the street where Chris had been standing. A set of bone-white T-51b power armor was slowly walking forward, sting everything in front of him with dozens of bright red bursts from the gatlingser in his hands.


    I stand corrected. I guess there <em>was </em>a way to survive that.


    I readied the anti-materiel rifle along the edge of the roof, and watched as the street below was filled with fire. Every Enve gun had turned on Christopher, sending dozens of bright blue bolts of energy his direction; as soon as he was clear of the smoking crater, he just stood still, sendingser sts back at them.


    Amazingly, he didn''t even seem the least bit affected by the withering sma fire striking his T-51b over and over and over again. And if it wasn''t for the rusted hulk of a broken car behind him being hit by all the stray shots  swiftly turning it into molten swiss cheese as a result  I would''ve thought those sma sts were as effective as a molerat fart. Of course, his gatlingser didn''t seem to be doing much good, either...


    I took aim and fired. An explosion mmed into the head of one of the power armored troops, taking his head off and sending the body flying like a ragdoll  and taking out a few nearby robots with the explosion. I managed to get a total of three shots in before they finally figured out where the fire wasing from, and redirecting some of their sma fire my way.


    "WHOA! Time to go!" I kicked off the parapet, diving for cover deeper into the roof and making a break for it. I barely got a few feet away from the sma ripping up the side of the building before I heard a buzzing sound above my head. I looked around, trying to find the source. A ck shape was screaming through the air, flying straight at me; it reminded me of one of those jet fighters in an old war movieing in for a strafing run...


    "FUCK!" I dove out of the way as fast as I could, dropping the anti-materiel rifle in a panic. Just in time, too: there was a loud bark of weapons fire, and the part of the roof where I''d been standing was ripped to shreds, showering me with shrapnel. The aircraft buzzed directly over my head and kept going. By the time I looked up, it wasing around for another pass. It almost looked like a really big boomerang, except it wasn''t spinning through the air like you''d expect...


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "THIS IS A STUPID IDEA!" I yelled as the grapnel pulled me through the air directly for the flying wing. The spike was lodged in the side of the wing, and when Inded on it, the whole craft started spinning wildly out of control through the air, ring warning xons at full volume. I shrugged the Jury Rigger into my free hand, fired at the opposite wing, disconnected the grapnel, and kicked off the aircraft. I started falling, but kept sight of the craft just long enough to watch it dive into a tailspin and explode in midair.


    I looked up (technically ''down,'' since I was falling head-first at the time...) and took aim with the Jury Rigger at the mass of Enve troops. I wasn''t that high up, and I was falling fairly quick, so I only managed to snap off three LAER beams. I shifted my weight around, trying to right myself, and seconds before I hit pavement, the jets in my rocket boots kicked in.


    The Enve troops were having a hard time tracking me. Honestly, I can''t really me them  I''d angled my feet so that I was skimming along horizontally, a few feet above the ground. The world managed to slow down long enough with VATS for me to line up one good shot...


    The blue LAER hit the first robot square in the chest, and just kept going. It hit another. And then another. It cut through five with one shot, blowing them all to pieces, before finally stopping at one of the dudes in power armor, sting him in the gut and knocking him to the ground.


    The jets in my boots cut out, and I skidded along the pavement, carried along by my momentum for several feet. I pulled out the grapnel gun again, but before I fired, I managed to catch a glimpse of the action going on at Chris'' end of things.


    The Lone Wanderer was still standing his ground, firing his gatlingser at the swiftly advancing Panzer. Thesers hit the behemoth''s tower shield, and seemed to bounce off harmlessly, letting the giant close the distance a lot quicker than his bulk would suggest... and then he swung the hammer. There was a massive ringing sound of metal on metal, and the next thing I knew, the set of white T-51b was <em>flying through the air</em>! Chris mmed into the side of a building with a crash of flying brickwork and masonry, disappearing entirely into the newly created hole in the wall.


    I couldn''t focus on that now  I had more immediate concerns. One of the nearby robots had noticed me and was trying to draw a bead with the two pistol-sized energy weapons in each of its hands.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I fired the grapnel at the ground next to the robots feet, flicked the button to let out as much ck as the cable would allow, and activated my jet boots. A pair of blue sma bolts sliced through the air near my head, and I started skimming along the ground, weaving in and out and around all the robots and power armor troops. I just kept hold of the grapnel, ducking and bobbing and weaving, until I finally felt the cable run out. I angled my boots and the jets let out a fresh burst of power...


    The line snapped taught, taking a good ten or eleven Enve with it. The grapnel spun up, and I shouldered my rifle as it drew me back in the way I came. One of the robots was trying to get back on its feet... but I grabbed it by the head and dragged it along for the ride. The grapnel finished pulling me back, I smashed the metal head into the pavement; I rolled back onto my feet, and tossed the headless robot into a pair of power armored soldiers. I threw it as hard as I could, and all that resulted was a broken robot against a pair of distracted soldiers.


    "Get him!" one of them yelled... and then the sma grenade I''d rolled at their feet detonated, consuming them both in a ball of green fire.


    "Made you look," I smirked under my helmet, shrugging the Jury Rigger back into my hands. "Now, where is  WHOA!" I dove for the pavement, because somethingrge, metal and <em>bone white </em>was flying my way. Chris'' T-51b sailed straight over my head, and I looked back up in time to see Panzer running after him.


    "GET BACK HERE!" He was charging like a deathw, and ended up taking out two of his own soldiers who weren''t quick enough to get out of his way... and I was directly in front of him. I leveled the Jury Rigger as quick as I could, flicked the fire selector to the ''Pulse'' setting, and fired.


    "<strong>GYNAH!</strong>" The blue streak of lightning hit him square in the chest, and he came to a halt. Lightning arced and crackled over the metal of his armor... and then it seemed to shift, funneling itself into the shield on his arm. "Ahhh... Project CIRCUITBREAKER? <strong>HAH!</strong>" He snorted derisively, mming the bottom edge of his shield against the pavement; the whole shield glowed and hummed blue, crackling with lightning. "You''ll have to do better than <strong>THAT</strong>!"


    Oh, <strong>balls</strong>.


    He reared back with his hammer, and brought it down with terrifying speed. The jets in my boots had already kicked in, and I was above him, firing blue LAER beams at him. The electricsers hit his armor, but didn''t seem to do much... except <strong>annoy</strong> him.


    "Stop buzzing, insect!" He swung his hammer around, pointing the gun barrel in my direction. The jets in my boots cut out and I fell, just as he fired another rocket; the explosion from the muzzle sh sted me like I''d been hit in the chest, and it sent me tumbling. I hit the ground, but I knew I didn''t have time to waste. I looked up, and sure enough, the edge of that tower shield was headed straight for my face.


    The jets in my boots fired, and I started skidding against the ground. I flew back, towards Panzer, and ended up going straight through his legs, just as the shield mmed into the road and turned it into rubble. I managed to fire off a few shots up into his undercarriage, but I didn''t expect them to do any good... and before I could get too far, he swung his hammer around again.


    "There''s nowhere you can run, mutant!" he growled as the impact knocked me off course again. I reached out with my cybeic hand, digging into the asphalt with my fingers to try and slow me down. "Just make it easy on yourself and <strong>DIE!</strong>"


    HONK! HONK!


    "What?" Panzer looked up, apparently as caught off guard by the sound as I was. Sure enough, the deuce was barreling down the road at top speed, smashing through thest few robots as it drove straight at the power armor monster with the warhammer. Panzer snorted, and leveled the gun in his hammer, firing it at the truck. The ground under the two and half ton truck exploded in a shower of fire and debris, knocking the truck up onto two wheels. It just kept right on going, spinning around like whoever was driving had yanked on the handbrake...


    The ps on the back of the truck exploded outward, pushed aside by a pair of massive ws. Stripe roared louder than any of the other explosions all around us, leaping out of the truck with ws outstretched and mouth open wide, sailing through the air straight at the dumbstruck Panzer.


    "WHAT  " Stripe hit the monster with the force of a freight train, and Panzer went skidding against the pavement, his boots tearing up the asphalt like it was made of mud. Sasha swung the minigun around, barking and firing directly at Panzer''s face. Sparks started flying everywhere, but the minigun bullets didn''t seem to do anything except bounce off harmlessly. Stripe kept wing and biting and snarling and pushing...


    <strong>SLAM!</strong>


    "ENOUGH!" Panzer yelled; Stripe was pushed back several feet after being hit by the tower shield, and he dug his ws into the road. Electricity hung in the air between them, floating and sparking like embers from a fire. Stripe reared back on his haunches, letting out a roar that shook the street and lunged at him again.


    "I SAID!" Panzer grabbed his hammer with both hands, and shoved the handle up underneath Stripe''s chin to keep him at bay. "<strong>ENOUGH!</strong>" Panzer shifted his weight, and smashed Stripe in the side of the head with the tower shield. Stripe faltered, the side of his head mming into the pavement..


    CLUNK!


    I sent a mass of holorifle cubes Panzer''s way to try and get his attention. It mmed into the side of his head, but wasn''t quite enough... and then a barrage of redsers mmed into the back of the armored metal monster. Chris had pulled himself out of whatever rubble he''dnded in, and was firing his gatlingser again. I switched the fire selector, and stared firing more LAER beams at his face. Sasha was yelling incoherently, still firing the minigun. With all three of us hitting him at once from three different directions, he finally started to stumble away from Stripe... and gave my pal the opening he needed.


    "<strong>DIE!</strong>" Stripe lunged upward, shing with both sets of ws. I stopped firing  because I didn''t want to hit Stripe  but kept advancing as the massive metal monster was knocked back. Chris was advancing as well, the barrels on his gatlingser glowing red hot. Panzer looked around  finally realizing that he was thest one standing. Stripe snarled and roared again.


    "You can''t win, <em>Pansy</em>," Chris mocked, his voice slightly distorted by the filter on his power armor. "It''s over." For half a second, nobody moved.


    "Emergency recall!" Panzer bellowed. "My coordinates!" The air around him warped and bloated, yellow lightning ripping up the fabric of reality.


    "NO!" Chris and I both yelled. He fired his gatlingser, I fired off a pair of LAER bursts, and Sasha barked out with minigun fire... but none of us were quick enough. There was a crack of ozone, and none of us hit anything.


    The noises of more thundercracks sounded off around us. I spun on my heel, Jury Rigger at the ready, because I was half-expecting reinforcements... but instead, I quickly realized I was hearing <em>exit </em>teleports. There were a half dozen bolts of yellow lightning that I could see, and most of the bigger remaining corpses in power armor  and the teleport homer that had started this whole mess  vanished with pops of ozone and electricity.


    "Damnit!" Chris growled in frustration. "They always do that..."


    "AND STAY OUT!" Sasha yelled. "This is <strong>our</strong> town, !" Stripe roared again, adding anotheryer of punctuation to Sasha''s bellowed Russian. Chris looked over at Stripe and Sasha, and let out a single, tiredugh.


    "So..." he panted heavily, letting the gatlingser in his hands hang loose. "A deathw, huh?" I nodded, taking the time to catch my breath as well. Chrisughed again. "Okay, I admit... I didn''t see that oneing."


    "Well," I shrugged, resting the Jury Rigger against my shoulder. "You <strong>did</strong> say you wanted the biggest guns..."

 Chapter 151: Shadows and Ghosts

    Chapter 151: Shadows and Ghosts


    <em>THREEEEEEE DAWG! That''s me, kiddies! From the Capital Wastes to Dayglow, The Core to Metrolina and everywhere else in-between, it''s Gxy News Radio! Keep that dial tuned to 103.8 anywhere in the wastnd, and I''ll keep broadcasting the truth, 24-7, from sea to irradiated sea! You can''t stop the signal, baby! AWOOOOOOO!</em>


    I stared at the severed metal head in my hands. Looking at it up close, it obviously wasn''t like those robots used by the ZAX ai. I suppose I only made the connection because both types of robots were more humanoid in appearance than something like... like a protectron or a sentry bot, say. But those ZAX robots had a distinct skeletal appearance to them, and the heads looked like <em>skulls</em>,plete with a mouth, teeth, eye sockets... even a hole for a nose. But <em>this</em> head looked like someone had taken a skull, filled in every detail with putty, and sandsted it until every surface was smooth. The only real imperfections were two tiny divots around eye level for a pair of minuscule cameras buried deep beneath the face armor.


    I tossed the robot head aside, and surveyed the carnage all around. Because really... ''Carnage'' is the only word that could <strong>possibly</strong> describe this mess. We were half a mile from The Strip''s front gate on Vegas Boulevard, but if I didn''t know better, I''d say we were in <em>The Divide</em>. All that was missing were the sandstorms. The road was so chewed up and broken that it looked like it had been hit by an earthquake. All the buildings on either side of me werepletely ripped to shreds  and one of them still had thergest pieces of the crashed aircraft lodged in the roof. A few small fires were still burning, and smoke was rising in dirty pirs of ash from the half a dozen craters.


    About the only piece of light relief among this madness was the deuce. Sure, it had crashed onto its side, but it did its job, allowing Stripe to get here in just the nick of time  and with quite the dramatic ir, to boot. Not only that, but Roxie was sticking her head up out of the cab, panting at me as I walked by... which removed any doubt in my mind as to who drove it here.


    "So..." Chris said to Stripe, a few feet away from me; except for the helmet, he was still wearing the T-51b. "You can talk?" Stripe snorted, leaning in and staring intently at the blonde Vault boy.


    "<strong>Yes. I can speak. What of it?</strong>" Stripe growled right in Chris'' face. For as tall as the Lone Wanderer was  exaggerated by the bone-white power armor as he was wearing  Stripe <em>still</em> towered over him.


    "Well, I just never met a pet deathw who could talk before, that''s all," he said, matter-of-factly. Stripe''s whole body shuddered, and he snarled right in Chris'' face, gnashing his teeth.


    "<strong>I am no one''s PET, </strong><em><strong>tin can</strong></em><strong>!</strong>" Stripe bellowed, snorting through his massively red nostrils. "<strong>I follow Alpha-Courier because I respect his power  and he respects </strong><em><strong>mine</strong></em><strong>! Insult me again, and I will tear that smug head from your shoulders!</strong>" Chrisughed... but tightened his grip on the gatlingser all the same.


    "I''d like to see you try!" he grinned.


    "<strong>KNOCK IT OFF!</strong> The <strong>both</strong> of you!" I yelled, storming over to them. I walked straight up to Chris, and prodded his chest te. "Alright, <strong>you</strong>: start talking! What the <strong>FUCK</strong> just happened?"


    "The Enve just happened, that''s what..." Chris looked back up at the sky. "What I don''t get is why so many showed up..."


    "So, this has happened before," I grumbled, balling my hands into fists. "You knew those power armored <strong>fucks</strong> could just teleport down when ever and <em>where </em>ever they damn well please  right into the middle of <strong>my city</strong>, where they could hurt all these <strong>people</strong> under <strong>my protection</strong>  and you didn''t think to <strong>WARN ME</strong>?!" My blood was boiling. Chris took a few steps back, his expression faltering slightly. Hell, even <em>Stripe </em>started backing up.


    "Look, I didn''t except him to show up, and certainly not with <em>that many</em>!" He shot back. "Usually, when that... that <em>Pansy</em> teleports in to fight me, it''s with four or five shock troops - at most! Maybe a handful ofbat droids... but... but he''s never arrived with <em>that much</em> firepower <strong>at once</strong>! And besides, it was <em>too soon</em>!"


    "What do you mean, too soon?" I asked. Chris shrugged  an impressive feat for someone wearing so much metal.


    "I can generally count on a gap of a month between his attempts to bring me down. Or he arrives while I''m in the middle of wrecking an... Enve... base..." He trailed off, and then smacked his forehead with his metal hand. "Oh, how could I have been so <em>stupid</em>?" He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "Those deathws we fought at Quarry Junction  they had metal helmets, didn''t they?"


    "Uh... yeah, they..." I was honestly a little caught off guard by his question. Somewhere behind me, I heard Stripe growl: "<strong>I </strong><em><strong>thought </strong></em><strong>I smelled the blood of a rival n...</strong>"


    "I <em>knew</em> that radio tower I crashed into looked familiar!" Chris shook his head, grimacing with clenched teeth. "Those deathws were fitted with ''domestication units''  mind control helmets used to turn deathws into Enve bioweapons! That assassin we captured wasn''t just using that ce as cover  she turned that quarry into an <em>outpost</em>!" He looked back up at the sky. "Son of a... I am such an idiot..."


    "Okay, seriously, why do you keep looking up like that? What''s wrong with the sky?" I asked. Before I even finished speaking, he pointed at the crashed aircraft in the side of the nearby building.


    "Those things usually fly a lot <em>higher</em>," Chris exined. "Rothchild examined a few I''ve shot down, and he''s pretty sure their ideal flight ceiling is around 25,000 feet. The Enve mostly use them as high altitude surveince drones  or for dropping in those teleport beacons! A cloudless day like this, they could be right over our heads, and we''d never see theming! Hell, they probably still have a few up "


    There was a loud screeching whistle that cut through the air, followed by a crash. Vegas Boulevard to the north of us  on one of the undamaged sections, to my annoyance  was filled with a massive dust cloud and a shower of debris.


    "No..." Chris actually sounded <em>legitimately </em>worried now. "No, no, it''s too <em>soon</em>!" Stripe hissed and snarled; Sasha barked, and started spinning up the minigun.


    "Alright, fuck this," I ran straight between the two giants on either side of me, leveled the Jury Rigger, and started firing LAER beams. One after the other, I kept firing, and for the first few shots it didn''t seem like anything was happening... but after the fifth st, the ting on the teleport homer started to rip apart. And after the eighth, I was close enough to punch it.


    So I did.


    "FUCK YOU!" I shouted. The metal cylinder split apart, ripping open from the force of my metal knuckles. Shards of metal were sent flying in every direction like they were torn up pieces paper blowing in the wind. I turned back to Chris; he was walking up to me with a confused smile. "They can''t teleport if we destroy the teleport homers." There was a long silence. "Let me guess: you never thought to do that?" Chrisughed nervously.


    "Truth be told, I never did." He paused. "Blowing them up seems obvious, now that I think about it, but... I guess I just always thought of it like a scripted event, and it was tagged essential." I sighed and shook my head; my brain was starting to get hoarse from all the internal screaming at the nonsense he was constantly spewing. Okay, focus, you idiot. This is definitely not good... we had to think of something... to...


    "Hey, Chris?" I looked up, an idea starting to form in my head. "You said they fly on cloudless days? Well, what about <em>cloudy </em>days?" He seemed confused by the question, but thought about it all the same.


    "I''m not sure. I think Rothchild mentioned once that they couldn''t fly when it''s overcast. Something about a line-of-sight problem, screwing with nav-control, maybe... why?" I just smirked, and turned to Stripe and Sasha.


    "If any more of these teleport beaconse down before I return, make sure they don''t stay in one piece for long. Can I count on you two for that?" Stripe snorted, giving me a nod, and Sasha barked.


    "Do not worry, ! We will keep point secure for BLU team!" Sasha replied, spinning the minigun barrels again.


    "I''ll be right back," I pulled the Big Mountain Transportalponder! out of my duster. Chris raised both eyebrows behind his sunsses, and opened his mouth wide in glee  but I pulled the trigger before I could hear what he said.


    The crack of lightning around me died down, and I stepped off the tform and into The Sink.


    "Jeeves!" I rushed to his console. Immediately, the room was bathed in the glow of his holograms appearing in midair. "I need your help!"


    "Certainly, sir," he replied. "What can I do for you?"


    "I need to get some heavy cloud cover over Vegas as quickly as possible. How are the repairs going on X-17? Have the robots got it close to being finished?" The holograms over his console changed as I spoke; it started with a map of the crater, and then narrowed the focus onto a wireframe of the X-17 meteorological station. Several parts of the building in the canyon were highlighted in red.


    "The instation is... <em>nearly</em>plete, sir," Jeeves said after a slight hesitation. "While most of the secondary and tertiary subsystems are still offline, most of the primary systems in X-17 are 97% functional. However, while they have not been physically stress-tested, I <em>have</em> been running simtions. No promises, but initial results indicate that X-17 will be, at the very least, partially operational in just a few more days!"


    "We don''t have a few more days," I grumbled. "What happens if I try to use it now?"


    "In all likelihood? You will lose your other arm." Jeeves snarked. "In truth, it is highly probable that a premature firing will merely break the instation. Again."


    "Alright, so is there a way to get some cloud cover over Vegas in a hurry?" I asked, rapping my knuckles against the side of his console. "C''mon, we''re on the clock here!"


    "One moment..." Jeeves started scrolling through various images on his projected holograms, most of them faster than I could even see. And then suddenly, he settled on one: "Ah, yes... Yes, I believe I may have found a suitable alternative, based on sirs'' parameters. ording to the records, this is the design for a small-scale prototype to one of therger systems in X-17. It was meant to be a technological stepping stone to bridge archaic cloud seeding technology to the much more advanced weather control devices. It can fire a single-use ionized pulse beam that can temporarily excite a localized area in the ionosphere." I paused, staring at the hologram that was slowly spinning on its axis in front of me.


    "It can make a lot of cloud cover, is what you''re saying," I deadpanned.


    "In a sentence, yes sir." Jeeves replied. I nodded, looking it over.


    "...why does it look like a potato gun?" I asked aloud, watching as the holographic cubes pulled themselves together and took shape.


    "That, sir, is beyond my ability to exin. I was not privy to the nuances that went into the devices design aesthetics, sir."


    The world shuddered into view, and my ears popped as the teleporter deposited me back onto Vegas Boulevard, just a few feet from where I left. The scene was slightly different from a few minutes ago. The environment was still a mess, but there were a lot more people  civilians who had emerged from hiding, for the most part. The securitrons had also (finally) arrived, to try and clean up the ce and look for survivors. Part of me wanted to get on Yes Man''s case for not showing up with reinforcement sooner, but... honestly, this whole mess had caught <strong>everyone</strong> with their pants down.


    The Roadkill was parked a few feet away from Chris, and Fawkes was standing with him; the set of bone-white power armor was parked next to the hovercraft, unupied. Veronica was here, as were both Cass and Boone. Both dogs were around  Dogmeat running excitedly from person to person, introducing himself to all the new people, and Roxie sitting patiently next to Cass. Stripe and Sasha, however, were nowhere to be seen.


    "Oh, you''re back!" Chris said, smiling at me before furrowing his brow, pointing at the canon I had under my arm. "What''s with the potato gun?"


    "That''s not what it is, but you''ll see in a second," I said, cing the device on the ground, extending the tripod-feet to keep it stable; the automatic bolts activated, and they rammed into the concrete, securing a stable firing tform for itself.


    "S''cuse me! Coming ing through! SHEASON!" I heard Arcade''s voice over themotion of people surrounding us, and he finally emerged. "Oh, Shea, there you are! As soon as I heard the explosions, I started... running. Hoo..." He seemed a bit out of breath. "Oh man. It is <strong>not</strong> easy running that whole way from the Mormon Fort!" Off in the distance, Boone started snickering. While I was busy setting up the weather cannon, I heard Chris'' heavy footfalls walk away from me.


    "Well, <em>hello</em> there!" I heard him say. "My name''s Chris, the Lone Wanderer. And who might you be?"


    "Oh! Uh... hi. I''m Arcade... er, Arcade Gannon." I nced up briefly to see Arcade and Chris shaking hands; Arcade looked a little dumbstruck, and was definitely blushing a bit.


    "It''s nice to meet you, Arcade..." Chris began, but Fawkes cut him off quickly.


    "Oh, <strong>don''t start</strong>!" the super mutant bellowed.


    "I was only saying hello!" Chris said, rather weakly.


    "I don''t mind!" Arcade said with a dismissive wave, giggling like a schoolgirl.


    "Alright!" I said loud enough to get everyone''s attention  and to get the two blondes to stop flirting. "That should do it! I think everyone might want to step back..."


    The machine bolted to the road started to hum and vibrate, and the panel on the side lit up with row after row of blue lights. A bright white glow emerged from the top of the barrel... but instead of an energy beam like I was expecting, what looked like a pole electrode plete with concentric disks on the side to create a cone-shape, and a topped with a metal ball) emerged. Electric lightning arced along the pole, collecting in the ball on the end and setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. There was a bright sh, a sound like a foghorn, and suddenly a bright white beam of energy shot up into the sky. There was an echoing distant rumble, and within seconds, the sky began to change: clouds were swirling and materializing in the spot directly above our heads. They got bigger and bigger... and it didn''t look they were stopping anytime soon.


    "Well... it''s little more than a bandaid on a gut-wound, but that should give us some extra time toe up with a more permanent solution," I said, watching as the clouds continued to coalesce into shape above us. "48 hours of cover at least, give or take. Assuming Jeeves'' calctions are correct..."


    "Man... you are just full of surprises today, aren''t you?" Chris said, walking up to me with a smile.


    "I think we both are." I looked back down at the weather cannon. Sure enough, the device was sparking, and the end of it was belching smoke. It looked very badly broken. "Speaking of surprises, I''ve been meaning to ask..." I pointed over to his set of power armor. "Where the hell did <strong>that </stronge from? Did you pull it out of your ass or something?"


    "Near enough!" Chris waggled his eyebrows, backing up to his set of power armor. "You like? I call it my ''Winter Contingency,'' because this set of winterized T-51b is a relic from the Anchorage Remation. If things get really hairy, I call up Sally and have her teleport the armor directly onto me! I''ll grant you, thisst time cut it <em>really</em> close, but it all worked out in the end."


    "Wait, she... teleports..." I tried to think about the impossible mechanics behind how a teleport <em>that precise</em> would even work. All the absurd calctions needed to teleport something into the right spot without it appearing halfway out of the ground or in half... the number of things that could go wrong by even the <em>slightest </em>miscalction would be extraordinarily messy <em>as a best case scenario</em>! "Fuck me, man! How have you not been tele-fragged yet?!"


    "Hey, after four years of practice, Sally could get that thing to tap dance if she really wanted. The difficult she can do right now. It''s the impossible that takes a little while." Chris grinned again, waggling his eyebrows. I felt like I''d heard that somewhere before, but I couldn''t ce it.


    "Ah!" Sasha bellowed from somewhere above me. "There you are, !" The next thing I knew, Stripe was leaping off a nearby building onto the street. Rather predictably, almost everyone started screaming. A few people started running away, but a surprising number stayed still  probably frozen in shock. What seemed to get everyone to shut up was when Roxie barked happily, bounding over to Stripe, who held out a massive paw and let Rox climb into his palm. He lifted the cyberdog up to his shoulders, and she dly hopped up, settling down to perch within his furry white mohawk.


    I''m pretty sure confusion had taken hold of the crowd and wasn''t going to let go.


    "Hey," Chris, oblivious to the shocked crowd behind him, walked straight up to Stripe with a smile and a wave. "No hard feelings, Godzi. You''ve got a mean swing." He patted the deathw on his scaly arm twice and gave him a thumbs up. Stripe just snorted, and started shaking his head. I think he was more confused than annoyed.


    "Alright guys..." I said, walking calmly over to the deathw. "What''s the good word?"


    "We did not see any more of those beacons!" Sasha replied, barking in the background. "We have kept point secure for BLU team!" The minigun swiveled around, scanning the crowd; the two metal ears twitched as the cyberdog gun swiftly deduced what was going on. When he spoke next, he yelled loud enough that the whole crowd could hear him. "Do not worry, Freeside people! We will not allow invaders to set foot on Vegas soil again! Isn''t that right,  ?" Stripe snorted loudly.


    "<strong>We will protect our Home, make no mistake...</strong>" Stripe growled. A ripple of surprise seemed to wash over the crowd, but thankfully nobody started screaming again. Chris, on the other hand, sidled up right next to me just so he could whisper in my ear:


    "I think we''re scaring the muggles." I nodded. Even though I didn''t <em>quite </em>know what thatst word meant, I picked up the intent anyway.


    "Good point," I said, walking over to Cass, Boone, Veronica, and Arcade. "C''mon, let''s regroup at the Lucky 38, so we can n our next move..." Stripe nodded, and made his way over to the deuce; the way his tail swished behind him  and the astonishing fluidity of movement for something his size  almost made him look like a cross between a giant snake and a big cat. He slid one of his ws underneath the deuce, effortlessly propped it back up on its wheels, and then disappeared into the back without another word.


    I looked back up at the sky, with the clouds still boiling and churning away above our heads. They weren''t quite storm clouds  not yet  but they were definitely dark. With any luck, this cover will hold... and hopefully it would be enough.


    "I have a nasty feeling we''re in for a long night..."


    "So," Veronica walked up next to me as our group walked through the 38''s front doors and into the casino. "The Enve is still around. We''re absolutely, positively, one hundred percent certain that it is <em>definitely </em>The Enve, then?" I nodded.


    "Seems that way." Veronica nodded thoughtfully... and then practically exploded.


    "What the <strong>FUCK</strong>?!" She shook her fists at the roof, causing everyone around to recoil from the outburst. "How the <em>hell</em> are they even still around after all this time? I mean, yeah, there are the Remnants, but they were just as sure as I was the Enve was finished decades ago!"


    "Remnants?" Chris leaned down to me, whispering his question. I just shook my head.


    "Don''t ask, it''s... a long story," I grumbled. Veronica kept going.


    "I was always told that they were pretty much dead and buried when the Oil Rig went boom! No one on the west coast has heard so much as a peep from them in <em>forty years</em>! So <strong>how</strong> are they still around? How is this possible?!"


    "Because most of them packed up and headed east, rather than let themselves get exploded," Chris offered up to try and exin. "At least, that''s the best exnation I can piece together after fighting them thest four years."


    "You''ve been fightin'' these assholes fer all that time, an'' ye still don''t know where they''rein'' from?" Cass asked, appearing from behind Chris. He just shook his head.


    "If we knew where to find their HQ," Fawkes offered up, cigar smoke curling around his head, "I sure El Dubya over there would''ve turned it into a glowing atomic crater <strong>years</strong> ago."


    "I thought Raven Rock was their home base at first," Chris exined. "But that turned out to not be the case. I thought the same thing about Adams Air Base, too. By the time I reached Fort Bragg, I realized it wasn''t going to stop. Fort Knox, that research base near Chicago, Fort Hood, the Redstone Arsenal..." Chris counted off the names on his fingers as he spoke, then shook his head and sighed. "I just keep pummeling them into submission, and somehow they just keep getting back up!"


    "Maybe we should talk to that assassin you captured," Boone spoke up, his gravelly baritone surprising me. "I bet she probably knows where their HQ is."


    "I agree," Arcade added. "If anyone''s bound to know anything, it''s probably just her."


    "Hello!" Yes Man  inhabiting one of the nearby securitrons  rolled into view with a wave. "Sir, I have news! May I speak with you a moment?" He was calling me sir. How long had that been going on? Was Jeeves'' starting to rub off on him?


    "Yeah, sure thing, Yes Man," I turned to everyone else and gestured to the elevator. "You guys go on ahead, I''ll catch up." The group started slowly making their way over to the elevator and  to my surprise and utter bewilderment  even <em>Fawkes</em> was able to fit along with everyone else in one go. Before the elevator doors closed, I did hear Cass ask Chris a question: "Did you <em>really</em> deflect a missile by headbuttin'' it?"


    "Alright, so," I turned back to the securitron, trying to stifle theughter from the overheard question. "What''s up?"


    "I''ve been doing a lot of scanning today!" Yes Man said cheerily. "It''s been almost constant since you acquired the new arrivals!" I opened my mouth to protest, but didn''t see the point and just let him continue. "I was monitoring your fight on Vegas Boulevard against the invaders earlier, and recorded everything about the fight  most notably, the teleport signatures!"


    "Teleport... Wait, are you saying what I <em>think</em> you''re saying?" I asked, hopefully. Yes Man''s monitor flickered.


    "I certainly hope so! Thanks to all the wondrous new technology you''ve brought back from Big Mountain  as well as some timely assistance from Jeeves!  I was in an ideal position to collect some highly detailed scans of the energy waves! It''s highly likely the invaders either didn''t know or didn''t care that they were being monitored  otherwise, the data stream piggybacking off the teleport signal would''ve been much more heavily encrypted! Given adequate time, and more assistance from both Jeeves and Emily, I should be able to backtrace the signal to their point of origin!"


    "How long?" I could practically feel the gears grinding against each other in my skull.


    "A few hours, at most! Back when I was working for Benny, this sort of thing might have taken days  assuming I could''ve even done it at all! But you''ve assembled a good team! This should be easy!"


    Ding!


    The elevator doors opened up, revealing an empty space. The others must have sent it back my way. I gave Yes Man a thumbs up, and started making my way over to the elevator.


    "You''re the best, man! Let me know when you''re finished." I only got a few feet before Yes Man spoke up again, bringing me to a screeching halt.


    "Do not worry, Friend_Courier!" He said. "I will definitely beat the encryption this time!"


    Silence.


    Slowly, carefully, I turned around. Yes Man was staring at me with his unmoving cartoon face.


    "... <em>ED-E?</em>" I breathed out, a lump forming in the back of my windpipe.


    "Pardon?" Yes Man asked, tilting his whole body to the side  since he couldn''t tilt his head in confusion, what with it being a monitor and all. "Are you alright, sir? You look as if you''ve seen a ghost!"


    I let out a single weak chuckle, which felt more like a whimper than anything else.


    "Y-yeah..." I turned away from Yes Man, heading back to the elevator. "... a ghost..."


    My mind was just ying tricks on me again.


    That''s all it was.


    That''s all.


    "Oh, there y''are," Cass greeted me as I finally caught up with the rest of the group. "Bout time yer happy ass showed up. What, you stop fer drive through?"


    Everyone was down here, in a sort of office-like antechamber in the underground security station Yes Man had told me about earlier. The walls were concrete and steel; there were a few metal desks, a wall of broken and disused monitors, and a thickyer of grimy dust coated absolutely <em>everything</em>. This ce must have been so disused, even the maintenance robots keeping the 38 clean didn''te down here. And even though both Fawkes and Yes Man (inhabiting a securitron) were down here, there was just... <em>something</em> about this space that felt ufortably small... like the walls were going to close in around me at any second.


    I tried to shake it off. I had to deal with bigger problems, and couldn''t waste time with a sense of unexinable ustrophobia.


    "How''s our guest?" I asked, looking around once, and adding: "<em>Where''s</em> our guest?" Yes Man moved to the side, and pointed at a sign above the door he was guarding: CELL BLOCK. I was first in the door, and judging by the sound of footsteps, everyone else was following my lead.


    "So, good news, bad news time," Chris spoke up as I walked down the hall. "Which do you want to hear first?"


    "Let''s hear the good first," I said, looking at all the cells. "It''d be a nice change of pace..." I couldn''t tell exactly how many cells there were down here, but each one was a tiny, cramped, concrete box with no windows, a metal b for a bed, a stainless-steel toilet/sink in the corner, an inch-and-a-half of dust covering every surface... and a foot thick wall of Plexis between the cell and the hallway.


    <em>Fucking hell</em>, I thought to myself. <em>When Yes Man said "supermax" he wasn''t kidding.</em>


    "Well, the good news is that she''s still out cold," Chris said, running the metal fingers of his robot arm against the wall. "And that means she hasn''t tried to escape." Ahead of us, I saw a pair of securitrons posted outside thest cell in the hallway. That must be where they were keeping her.


    "So what''s the bad news?"


    "She''s still out cold," Chris replied in the same tone of voice. "So we haven''t been able to question her yet."


    I looked into thest cell. This one didn''t have a bed or a toilet, just a steel chair bolted to the floor in the center. The assassin was sitting in this heavy-duty chair, with her head slumped forward. Her hands were no longer in the adamantium restraints I''d seen before, because her hands, arms, chest, and legs were bound by thick metal bars shackling her to the chair. Her feet were still in the adamantium box, though.


    "Well now..." I grunted, trying to ignore the sinking sensation forming in the pit of my stomach. "I think we should probably wake... her... " I looked to my side and saw Chris standing next to me, staring at his Pip Boy and holding up his open palm. "...what are you doing?"


    "Five... four..." he said, counting off the numbers with his hand. "...three... two... aaaand showtime!" He looked up, pointed at the cell, and the assassin''s head jerked up. She coughed and snorted several times before looking around, grunting and struggling against her restraints.


    "You''ve gotta show me how you do that sometime," I said, pressing the button marked "open" on the concrete section next to the clear wall. A section of the Plexis slid into the floor. I was a bit surprised  they''d fit together so perfectly, I hadn''t even realized the wall wasn''t a single piece.


    "Alright..." Cass said behind me, cracking her knuckles. "Time t''find out who''s been fuckin'' with us this whole time." She gestured for me to go inside. "Wanna do th'' honors?"


    I felt rooted to the floor. I nced down at my hands; my cybeic was steady as a rock, but my fleshy hand was shaking and trembling. The sinking in my gut had gotten worse. I was so close. I <em>knew </em>what wasing... but I didn''t <em>want</em> to know. I didn''t want to recognize her when the helmet came off. I just wanted to be chasing ghosts...


    "Hey, Chris..." I was doing my damndest to keep my voice calm and level, but I couldn''t tell if I was pulling it off. "You should do it. We wouldn''t have caught her without that souped-up taser gun of yours." He nodded, cheerfully humming to himself as he entered the cell. Cass looked a little confused, but I stayed still. My eyes were fixed on the assassin, trying and failing to get out of her restraints.


    "No... no no no no no..." It was like she was grunting through gritted teeth, making her almost sound like a wild dog. Chris just casually grabbed the top of her helmet to keep it steady, and started unhooking it from her suit; I heard several bursts of pressurized gas amid the sounds of buckles unlocking.


    "And she would''ve gotten away with it too, if it wasn''t for us pesky kids and our meddling dogs!" Chris grabbed the helmet on both sides and pulled it away from her head.


    Thest time I''d seen her was thirteen years ago... and she looked <em>exactly</em> the same. <em>Exactly</em>. It was like she hadn''t aged a single day. The contours of her face were the same as I remembered. The smooth curve of her chin. The subtly pronounced cheekbones. The pale red lips. The vibrant green eyes. The locks of raven hair. Stray strands started falling into her face as her helmet was pulled away, even though most of it was tied behind her head in a bun.


    Fuck.


    Why couldn''t I have been wrong, just this once? I just <strong>had </strong>to be <em>right</em>.


    "Hello, Tuera." My voice was hoarse. Surprising, considering how all the screaming I''d been doing was inside my own head. All around me, I could hear soft gasps of surprise, but I didn''t look around to see. I was just staring at her, like nothing else in the world mattered. The sinking in my gut had disappeared... reced by a sharp pain in the center of my chest that just seemed to get worse the longer I stared.


    "You <em>know</em> her?" Veronica breathed out from somewhere behind me. Tuera hung her head, and refused to look me in the eye. She''d finally stopped struggling against her restraints.


    "I used to."

 Chapter 152: Lonely Heart

    Chapter 152: Lonely Heart


    <em>Hey kiddies! It''s Three Dog, with an important public service announcement! Remember children, if someonees knocking on your door, iming to be from the government? DON''T BELIEVE IT! Just run as fast as you can in the other direction, because those power armored </em><em><strong>bastards</strong></em><em> will shoot first, and ask questions never! Stay safe. Stay alert. Stay alive. You can do that for me, can''t you children? I know you can. You''re listening to Gxy News Radio, bringing you the truth  no matter how bad it hurts.</em>


    Most of us were in the security station''s antechamber, staring at the wall of monitors. Yes Man was transmitting the video feed from thest cell, where Tuera was still chained up. Chris was sitting opposite her in a metal folding chair, having volunteered to interrogate her; he was, after all, the only one here with any recent experience with the Enve. He certainly had the most experience <em>fighting them</em>, and he''d know what questions to ask.


    In theory, anyway. No matter what questions he asked, Tuera just kept responding with the same phrase, over and over again:


    "Colonel Smith. Serial Number: six-zero-two-dash-eight-niner-four-two-tango-alpha."


    I was trying to focus, but it was damn difficult. My mind was screaming at me. A gaping, gnawing pain was tearing at the inside of my chest. Every emotion that I had been bottling up inside me and ignoring for thirteen <strong>fucking</strong><strong>years</strong> was washing over me like a bucket of ice water. And, if I''m being brutally honest, this tumultuous deluge of emotions paralyzing my ability to think and reason properly was the <em>real</em> motive for letting Chris talk to her first.


    Damnit, I''m <em>thirty nine years old</em>, and seeing her again is making me feel like the dumb fuck I was in my <em>twenties</em>. Of course, when I was <em>with </em>her, she made me feel like a teenager, so I guess this is... <em>sort</em> of an improvement? Kind of. All of this, it was... it was just too much for me to handle. I couldn''tpartmentalize like I usually did. I couldn''t... I just...


    "How long?"


    "Huh?" The voice snapped me out of myself. Cass was staring at me with her arms folded across her chest. Her expression was... it wasn''t anger or disappointment or anything like that. It was... was that concern? Sadness? Anxiety? I couldn''t tell <strong>what</strong> it was.


    I just couldn''t focus.


    "How long did y''know it was her?" Cass asked again.


    "The fight on the rooftops." I rasped out. My throat was so dry, talking felt like I was trying to eat sandpaper. "At least... that''s when I started to <em>suspect</em>. I didn''t <strong>know</strong> until the helmet came off. Not for sure." I looked back at the screen; Chris was still trying to talk to her, calmly asking questions, like he was talking to someone over lunch. "I... hoped I was wrong." No I didn''t. "I thought it was just my mind ying tricks on me, but..."


    "So, who is she, this... Two-era?" Arcade asked, putting emphasis on the sybles of her name  almost like he was afraid he was going to mispronounce it. "It''s clear you''ve got a history with this girl, and it''s just as obvious <em>your </em>history has nothing to do with the Enve. Otherwise, it would''vee up sooner. What''s the story?" For several seconds, nobody said anything. I can''t speak for anyone else''s reasons for staying quiet, but I was busy trying to form a coherent thought through all the hysterical shouting in my head.


    "A... long time ago, I met a girl in Shady Sands. We dated. I fell in love. And I mean, seriously, legitimately, properly In Love. I thought she loved me back. And then..." I gulped hard, trying to remove the harshness in the back of my throat. "One day, she was gone. She just vanished out of the blue. Poof."


    "Wait a minute..." Veronica tapped her chin. "You''ve told me this story before, haven''t you? When I " V paused, pointing at the screen. "You mean she''s the..."


    "Yeah," I grunted out. "There were other... and she was... but she..." I trailed off, unable to think clearly. It felt like a jackhammer inside my skull, hammering away in an effort to escape. Cass reached out and rested a hand on my shoulder. The touch was a weefort


    "She''s th'' one that got away..." Cass said softly. I looked over my shoulder... and Cass gave me a knowing nod. I nodded back in kind.


    If Cass was <strong>anyone</strong> else, I probably would''ve expected her to get pissed off or jealous that one of my exes  <em>THE </em>ex  was back, and causing me to be such a mess. But Cass wasn''t like that, because our <em>rtionship </em>wasn''t like that. Before everything and anything else between us, she was my friend, and I was hers. Not tactical support, not a lover, not the sarcastic voice of reason... but a <em>friend</em>. And maybe that makes our dynamic strange, who knows? But right now... I was extremely grateful for it.


    "So, what are we going to <strong>do</strong> with her?" Boone spoke up, to the surprise of everyone. "Assuming she doesn''t crack from interrogation, which..." Boone stared at the monitors, and shook his head. "She <strong>won''t</strong>. What then?" Everyone around was looking to me, as if I had the answers. Even Fawkes  who was standing in the back with cigar smoke curling around his head  was staring directly at me, expecting me to know what to do.


    "I don''t know..." I said finally, shaking my head. "I was so focused on... just, you know, <em>catching </em>her that I hadn''t really thought that far ahead." I looked back at the monitor, and the scene still hadn''t changed. "To be honest, I''m just making this shit up as I go."


    <strong>Fuck me</strong>, I need a smoke.


    "Well, I can''t get anything out of her," Chris said, walking into the antechamber after about a half an hour. "She just keeps doing that name-rank-serial number thing, like a robot. She''s more of a robot than a lot of the robots I''ve known!" Chris paused, and looked to his right; Yes Man was standing next to him, still as a statue. Chris chuckled nervously. "Er, no offense!"


    "None taken!" Yes Man replied, happily. I honestly couldn''t tell if he was being politely passive aggressive or not.


    "Well, that just proves she''s <em>definitely</em> Enve Special Forces," Arcade began... and then he cleared his throat. I guess he didn''t want to give anything away to our new arrival if he didn''t have to, because he immediately started backtracking. "I mean... if they''re anything like US Special Forces from before the war, then they have to go through mock prisoner-of-war interrogations during their training. They''d be subjected to torture and psychological warfare for <em>five days</em>, and if they said anything other than their name, rank, and serial number <em>at any point</em>, they''d be washed out of the program."


    "Told you," Boone grunted out. "She''s not going to crack."


    "Well, damn," Chris sounded disappointed. "That at least exins why I failed the Speech check. That hasn''t happened in <em>years</em>!" He shook his head, ignoring all the strange looks he was getting from everyone except Fawkes (who just rolled his eyes), and pointed up. "Either way, we don''t <strong>have</strong> five days to try and get the location of the Enve HQ out of her. That cloud cover isn''t going tost forever, so we definitely need to get a move on."


    "Do you really think she knows where it is, though?" Arcade asked.


    "Maybe!" Chris eximed, briefly ncing over in my direction before continuing. "All I know is that you guys are the first new pieces on the board I''vee across in <em>ages</em>! Whenever new piecese into y, the nature of the game changes significantly. The Enve and I have been in ''check'' for ages, with neither side able to push it into ''mate,'' so this might be just what I need to break the stalemate!"


    "Did... did you just equate us to <em>chess pieces</em>?" Arcade asked.


    While I was busy watching this back-and-forth, a hand reached out to grab me by the crook of my arm. The next thing I knew, Cass was pulling me aside, trying her best to get us out of earshot so the rest of them could continue arguing.


    "Look like yer gonna get t''ask those questions after all," Cass said. I nodded with a grunt... but didn''t move. Cass furrowed her brow at me. "Oh, don''t tell me after all th'' trouble we''ve gone through, yer gettin'' cold feet now?"


    "No..." I offered up weakly. "I''m going, I just... I... <strong>fuck</strong>. I haven''t seen her in <em>thirteen years</em>. What the fuck am I gonna say?" Cass snorted, holding back augh.


    "I''m sure you''ll figure somethin'' out. Now, g''wan!" She swatted my ass to try and get me moving. "Go git''r, tiger."


    "Heh... yes''m," I said with a half-salute, half-wave. As I started to leave, Veronica made her way over to Cass. I pulled out my pack of smokes  half to stall for time, and half because I wanted something to do, so it didn''t look like I wasn''t listening to them.


    "Are you sure you''re alright with this?" Veronica asked.


    "Well, sure," Cass replied. "Why wouldn''t I be?" There was a very long pause.


    "... <em><strong>seriously</strong></em>? All the bullshit between the three of us and you''re just going to let him <em>go</em> like that? You are some piece of work."


    "Alright, first off," Cass patted Veronica on the shoulder. "I ain''t lettin'' him go, cuz he ain''t <em>mine </em>t''let go. And second: this is yer problem, V. You''ve always gotta take things so serious like, all th'' goddamn time. I learned long ago that shit''s only ever gotta be asplicated as you <em>want</em> it to be."


    "What? That doesn''t " Veronica was cut off by Cass'' chuckling.


    "I was never lookin'' fer anythin'' more''n fun, V. Not with you, and not with Fisher over there. An'' that''s cuz I had my fill''ve serious rtionships <strong>years </strong>ago. Didn''t much care fer it."


    "Really?" Veronica asked, and Cass nodded.


    "Really. Thing is, I was in his shoes, ''bout six years ago. I had a second chance t''reconnect with..." Cass paused for several seconds, her jaw working soundlessly for a while. She cleared her throat. "Look, I just know where he''sin'' from here, alright? We all have th'' one who got away."


    "... yeah." Veronica agreed, hanging her head. Part of me wondered how much Cass knew about Christine, but even so... you didn''t need all the specific details to know what that expression meant.


    "I may''ve fucked up <em>my</em> second chance," Cass continued. "But... hell, that don''t mean I gotta deliberately fuck up <em>his</em>. S''only gonnaplicate things. An'' I hateplications."


    "I... <em>guess</em> that makes sense. Still <em>feels</em> like bullshit, though."


    "That''s cuz you can''t separate dick''n emotion, V," Cass replied with a shrug. "An'' that''s why y''keep gettin'' yer heart re-broken, time''n again." Veronica screwed up her face and grumbled.


    "You can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?" Cass snorted out augh.


    "Love you too, V."


    It took a while, but I eventually pulled myself away, and made the long walk down the cell block... down to where Tuera was waiting for me. It felt like the journey took six years. I think it was all that talk from Cass about ''second chances'' adding to my nerves. I mean, seriously... what did she <em>think</em> I was going to do? <strong>I</strong> didn''t even know what the fuck I was going to do! I was flying by the seat of my pants even more than usual here, and that''s saying a whole hell of a lot.


    I wasn''t exactly sure when I finally arrived at the cell. I just looked up, and there I was. Tuera was hanging her head, about as hunched over as she could be still strapped to the chair. I nodded at the two securitrons guarding the door; they moved away, and I opened up the transparent wall. She lifted her head, but didn''t say anything as I entered, nting myself in the folding metal chair Chris had been using earlier.


    For a few moments, we just sat there, staring at each other. Everything had gone quiet. Even the screaming in my head  which had been going on almost constantly since her helmet hade off  had stopped.


    "Hey, Tu..." I coughed out, wringing my hands together nervously. I didn''t know what else to <strong>do</strong> with them. Tuera didn''t say anything. She just kept staring at me with those green eyes of hers.


    The shape of her face was the same as I remembered, but there was hardly anything left of the woman I used to know looking back at me... except for the eyes. They may have been staring fiercely and defiantly, piercing through to the back of my skull, but those huge, vibrant green eyes of hers were still just as deep and as soulful as <em>that night</em>. The night she left me...


    Thest time she told me she loved me.


    "You know..." I gestured in the vague direction of the antechamber. "The others... they want to know where the Enve HQ is located. They think you know where it is."


    "Colonel Smith," she replied, with a face carved from stone. "Serial Number: six-zero-two-dash-eight-niner-four-two-tango-alpha."


    "No, Tu... I''m not... This isn''t an interrogation." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Honestly, I don''t care about that. That''s not why I''m here." Tuera raised an eyebrow  but only just.


    I didn''t care about getting the Enve HQ from <em>her</em>, because I knew that Yes Man was already working the problem, and we''d get an answer soon enough with or without her help. But there was no sense in letting <em>that</em> slip. Not yet.


    "I only have... <em>one </em>question for you." My jaw clenched reflexively, in an effort to distract from the growing pain the center of my chest. "That night... when you left me without saying goodbye..." I took a deep breath, and tried to calm down long enough to get out the words:


    "Did you take my copy of Red Headed Stranger?"


    If the look of ck-jawed confusion on Tuera''s face was any indication, then my little gambit worked. I knew that I wasn''t going to get her to open up andmunicate with me like a human being unless I caught her off guard first.


    "Wh... <em>huh</em>?" Tuera asked, apparently having forgotten her Special Forces mantra. Well, that was a good sign.


    "I was just thinkin'' about that night..." I continued, smiling up at her. "We must have listened to that album, like, nine times. It was the only one I had and we didn''t want to listen to the radio, you remember? We were staring up at the stars..." I chuckled to myself. "...drinking that crappy Cabe... and then,ter, we were doing... something else..." I snapped my fingers. "There was a bedroom, I think... Can you remember what it was?"


    Tuera hung her head and looked away, finally breaking eye contact. I stopped smiling, and set my jaw again.


    "The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. An empty apartment. You left without a word... without a goodbye..." I inhaled sharply, trying to control my breathing. "It was like you had never even existed. You left... and I never understood why."


    She stayed silent, and continued hanging her head.


    "For the longest time, I thought it was something I did " I began, but Tuera surprised me.


    "No..." she breathed out. "No, it was... it wasn''t you. It... it wasn''t anything that you did..." She started shaking her head, but refused to look me in the eye.


    "So then tell me," I shot back. "What was the reason you left?" After everything that had happened over thest few weeks, everything I''d learned about the Enve  the Oil Rig, the Remnants, Shadow Ops, Project ASCENSION, and the recent news from Chris about the Enve back east, not to mention the fact that Tuera hadn''t aged a single day since thest time I''d seen her  I could probably <strong>guess</strong> the reason. But...


    "I want to hear you say it," I growled, ignoring the pain in my chest.


    "... Orders." Tuera finally said, after a very long hesitation. "I received new orders. I left because I had a job to do." She looked up, and looked at me with eyes that practically burned into the back of my skull. "I <strong>still</strong>have a job to do."


    "And these orders were more important than me?" I asked, leaning back in the chair and folding my arms across my chest. "They were more important than <em>us</em>?"


    "I waited for new orders toe for <em>twenty six years</em>," she said, without batting an eye. "That''s a long time to wait." I quickly did the math in my head, and agreed: that was <strong>far</strong> too long than her youthful appearance would suggest. How old <em>was</em> she, anyway? "I swore an oath to serve my country, to support and defend the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic. To bear true faith and allegiance to the same. To <em>obey my orders</em>. I wasn''t prepared to betray all the values I stood for, all for..." Tuera paused, and the faade of stone-faced killer faltered somewhat. "... for a... a <em>fleeting emotion</em>."


    "You''re right," I shrugged. Tuera narrowed her eyes. "Twenty six years <strong>is </strong>a long time to wait." I leaned forward, to get down to her eye level. "It''s long enough for you to see the world beyond the oil rig. It''s certainly long enough for you to see through the lies of the Enve''s propaganda. And it''s long enough for you to realize that the Enve <em>wasn''t</em> America... and it <em>never was</em>."


    "Maybe..." Tuera whispered. "It''s true that things here aren''t quite as..." she paused, gulping hard. "... <em>ck and white </em>as I used to believe." Then she shook her head again. "But even with the things I''ve learned and seen... all the people I''ve..." she paused again, ncing up at me again, briefly, before looking down again. "...met. It''s not going to change anything. None of it means a thing."


    "The <strong>hell</strong> it doesn''t!" I spat angrily. The pain in my chest was getting worse. "I''ve heard about the Enve''s ns for genocide! And I know what they think of anyone who isn''t <strong>them</strong>  people like <strong>me</strong>. Hell, one of those power armored fuck-sticks called me a <em>mutant</em> earlier today, right before he tried to <em>smash my face in</em>! As if the very word was justification enough for turning me into a bloody smear! Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that after everything you''ve seen, living here  after everything that you and I <em>shared</em> together, all those years ago  you''re seriously going to tell me that <em>nothing has </em><em><strong>changed</strong></em>?"


    "No." She hung her head, refusing to look me in the eye.


    "If that''s true, then <em>why didn''t you kill me</em> when you had the chance?" I said, trying to contain my emotions long enough to make my point. I wasn''t doing a very good job. She didn''t look up or say anything. "You''ve had plenty of chances to rub me out since I saw you at that alley in Freeside. Probably a <strong>lot</strong> more than even <em>I</em> know about, the way you''ve been ghosting me thesest two months..."


    "It doesn''t matter what I think..." Tuera said softly, still hanging her head. "The Enve possesses both the will and the weapons to win, no matter the cost. They hold the only legitimate im to the United States. Any opinions I might have are utterly irrelevant. Doubly so, because of the oath I swore. No matter what I might think, or any... personal feelings I might have..." She looked back up at me, steeling her expression again. "I will serve my country, right or wrong."


    Before I could offer any sort of rebuttal, something unexpected happened.


    "That''s only half of the quote," Arcade spoke up behind me. Both Tuera and I looked up in surprise at the sound. Arcade had appeared from nowhere and was leaning against the edge of the opening in the clear wall. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to interrupt. Just thought I might be able to help, and... well, the door was open." I nced over to Tuera, who was looking up at Arcade in confusion, and then turned back to the bespectacled scientist.


    "What do you mean, ''half the quote''?" I asked, just a little bit perplexed. Arcade shrugged.


    "It''s something the Enve liked to do a lot," he exined. "They''d pick and choose which parts of history they would tell their citizens: cherry-picking everything that legitimized their government, and never mentioning anything that could potentially discredit or contradict anything they said. And that misquote of Senator Carl Schurz was a favorite of theirs  to encourage patriotism without thinking about it too hard."


    I nced back at Tuera; she was staring at Arcade with narrowed, distrustful eyes... but I was fairly certain I saw the tiniest glimmer of curiosity there. Maybe.


    "So what did he <em>actually</em> say?" I asked. Arcade made a show of clearing his throat, and enunciating his next words even more carefully than he usually did:


    "The Senator from Wisconsin cannot frighten me by eximing, ''My country, right or wrong.'' In one sense I say so too. My country; and my country is the great American Republic. My county, right or wrong; if right, to be kept right; and if wrong, <strong>to be set right</strong>." Arcade smiled and chuckled softly to himself. "Thosest words really change the entire meaning, don''t they?"


    "Why should I believe you?" Tuera hissed through gritted teeth. Again, Arcade made a big show of quoting something. And as he spoke, Tuera''s expression turned from anger... to <em>surprise</em>.


    "Never shall I fail myrades," Arcade began. "Gantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well-trained soldier."


    "Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country," Tuera spoke up, obviously knowing how this went. I was just left confused. "I shall defeat them on the field of battle, for I am better trained and will fight with all my might."


    "Readily will I disy the fortitude required to fight on to the objective andplete the mission..." Arcade continued. "...though I be the lone survivor."


    "Rangers lead the way," Tuera finished. "How did you... Who <em>are</em> you?" She asked, astonishment cutting through her whispered voice.


    "My name is Arcade Israel Gannon..." he said, and then added: "... <em>Junior</em>." Tuera''s eyes went wide immediately.


    "You... you''re Major Gannon''s son, aren''t you?" Arcade nodded. Meanwhile, I was busy burying my face in my hand and rubbing my temple.


    <em>For fuck sake! </em>I thought. <em>How does </em><em><strong>everyone</strong></em><em> know </em><em><strong>everyone else</strong></em><em>?</em>


    "Your oath is the same one that my father swore," Arcade said. "Not to defend the United States, but the <em>Constitution.</em> To follow orders, yes  but only <emwful</em> orders that obey the regtions in the Uniform Code of Military Justice. If an order  <strong>any</strong> order, even those issued by the President  is uwful ording to the UCMJ and the Constitution, then a soldier is morally and duty-bound to <strong>disobey it</strong>." Arcade shook his head. "After all the war crimes the Enve hasmitted in the name of ''freedom'' and ''liberty'' over the years... you''re not obligated to follow <strong>any</strong> of their orders."


    Even after everything she had said, everything she had done, and the flimsy excuse she''d given for leaving which had only worsened the gaping hole in my heart... her expression as she took in Arcade''s words was <em>devastating</em>.


    It was the look of someone whose whole world view was crumbling into dust around them.


    "C''mon," Arcade patted me on the shoulder, and gestured for the exit. "We should probably give her some space. She has a lot to think about." I nodded weakly, but didn''t say anything. I got up from the chair, and carefully held on to whatever I could to steady myself as I left the cell: the chair back, the edge of the transparent wall, Arcade...


    I left the cell in a haze. My mind was no longer screaming at me, but... it was like all I could hear was a dial tone. It was the ''cotton balls shoved in your skull'' feeling you get when every bit of you has gone numb. I reached out, and fumbled around on the wall to try and close the cell door.


    Right before I hit the button and the door slid shut, I thought I heard the faint sounds of sobbing. Maybe. I wasn''t certain, though. I wasn''t certain of <em>anything </em>at that point.


    Arcade kept hold of me as the two of us made our way back to the rest of the group. We got about halfway before I started to lose my bnce. I toppled sideways, stumbling into the wall, and clutched my aching head.


    "Sheason?" Arcade tried to help keep me up, but it was no use. I slid down the smooth wall,nding on my ass, and trying to hide my face from view. "What''s wrong?"


    "Sh- she''s <em>gone</em>, Arcade..." I rasped out hoarsely, unable to contain it any longer. "The woman I... I used to know. The... she''s just... she''s..." I clutched my head with both hands and started shaking it, back and forth. "I could hardly recognize her, man!"


    While I sat there, a broke-down piece of a man, Arcade did his best to try andfort me. Patting me on the shoulder, offering encouragement... but it wasn''t much use. Because I just kept thinking the same thing, over and over and over again:


    <em>Did the girl I fell in love with ever truly </em><em><strong>exist</strong></em><em>?</em>


    When we finally made it back to the antechamber, I''d managed topose myself. At least... well enough that I wasn''t a blubbering idiot. And almost immediately, my path was blocked by Boone. He was scowling at me from behind his sunsses, standing in front of me like a wall.


    "Why do you always do this?" he asked.


    "Do what?" I asked. My head was a still little fuzzy.


    "You always bring in this soap-opera bullshit, and drag us down into it." Boone grunted. "Why?"


    "B''cause," Cass wrapped her arm around my shoulder and gave me a hearty shake. "Sheason here is a shit ma. He can''t help it." She patted my shoulder several times. "I''m sorry you struck out, man. But... s''prob''ly fer th'' best, y''know?"


    "Yeah..." I grunted. "Probably... for the best..."


    Where the fuck is a good distraction when you need it?


    Ding!


    Everyone''s attention was drawn to the elevator, and I was <em>extremely</em> grateful for the fantastic timing. The doors slid open, and both Emily and April appeared.


    "Oh! You''re all here! Good, I have some news!" Emily said happily, nodding as she looked at the assembled crowd. Before she got too far, Chris stepped up with a smile, offering his hand. Emily looked up... then down... then back up again. Real subtle, Em.


    "Hey there, red. My name''s Chris. What''s your name?" He shook her hand, and she started grinning back at him, giggling and blushing.


    "Uh... E-Emily Ortal?" It was almost like she wasn''t sure what her own name was.


    "It''s nice to meet you, Emily..." Chris replied.


    "<strong>Stop it!</strong>" Fawkes grumbled, in a tone of voice like he was scolding a puppy.


    "Can I say hello to <em>anyone</em>?" Chris sighed. Emily just keptughing, waving dismissively at Fawkes.


    "Oh, I don''t mind!" Emily let go of his hand, and immediately rushed over to Arcade, and whispered to him, just loud enough that I was sure everyone could hear anyway: "<em>Oh my GOD! </em>Did you see  you could grate CHEESE on those abs!"


    "I <em>know</em>, right?" Arcade started nodding. Meanwhile, Chris was about to introduce himself to April, but surprisingly, the ck haired scientist beat him to it.


    "<em>Wow</em>," she said, with just a hint of a smile creeping into the edge of her mouth. "Can I tap your chest?" Chris seemed a bit confused by the request, but shrugged anyway.


    "Sure, go ahead." She started prodding him in the pecs, and each pokended with an audible thud. April startedughing.


    "Hah-hah-haa... ho-holy crap!" I sighed, trying to pull myself away from the spectacle that was equal parts hrious and embarrassing, and tried to catch Emily''s attention.


    "Em, stop gossiping about the b of ground chuck," I said, snapping my fingers in front of her several times. "What''s this news you wanted to tell us?"


    "OH! Right. Yes," she cleared her throat. "Well, it''s not actually <em>me </em>that has the news. I mean, I helped with the decoding, but it was Yes Man who figured it out."


    "What, you guys were able to backtrace the teleport signal already?" I asked; Emily nodded. "So, why didn''t he just tell us?" I asked, pointing at the securitron in the corner; it didn''t have Yes Man''s smiling cartoon face, but the generic soldier MkII face.


    "Honestly? I''m not really sure. Something about needing the big screen, I think?"


    Ding.


    "Alright, Yes Man!" I was the first one out of the elevator, and slid down the banister to get to the big screen as quickly as possible. "Lay it on me. Let''s see what you''ve got." As the rest of the group started to calmly file into the Penthouse behind me, Yes Man''s face winked into existence on the big screen.


    "Oh! Hi there! So I''ve got good news and bad news!" he said; somewhere above me, I heard Chris whistle, muttering something like ''That''s a nice view!''


    "Let me guess," I said. "The good news is that you know where the Enve HQ is located?" As I spoke, Chris was the first toe down the stairs to join me.


    "Yes, indeed!" Yes Man''s screen flickered. "The signal has been decoded, backtraced, and the point of origin located!"


    "Fantastic!" Chris shouted, obviously unable to contain his glee. "Alright, so, where on Earth are these idiotsing from?"


    "That''s the bad news!" Yes Man''s cheery tone didn''t change. When Chris and I looked up at the screen in confusion, he continued. "Allow me to illustrate with a graphical representation, courtesy of an imaging program Jeeves'' provided!"


    Yes Man''s face disappeared. Several lines of code scrolled along the big screen, and the next thing we knew, a wireframe image appeared. It took me a few seconds to recognize: it was an overhead view of the exact street in Freeside where the Enve had teleported down. This was confirmed a secondter when a triangle of bright lines appeared  lines connecting the locations where the three teleport homers had been dropped. The view tilted, and the bright lines shot up into the sky, above the street. The view started panning up and out, following the line  the path the signal had taken. Higher and higher it went, eventually connecting to a satellite in the upper atmosphere, just like the Big MT teleport satellites. I expected it to connect to another satellite or two, and then head back down to the surface of the... but <em>that''s not what it did</em>. The signal path just kept getting further and further away from Earth, and the image followed the trail as it bounced off several satellites, finallying to a stop at the point of origin.


    The room was deathly silent. If they were anything like me, then everyone was staring at the screen in shock and disbelief.


    "I-is... is that... that''s... Wh-wha... <em>huh</em>?" Cass was the first to find words, but couldn''t seem to remember how to <em>use</em> them.


    "<strong>The Moon</strong>," Chris sighed, shaking his head. "The Enve areing from <em>the Moon</em>."

 Chapter 153: Identity

    Chapter 153: Identity


    <em>Hey, everybody! This is Three Dog, your friendly neighborhood disc jockey. What''s a disc? Hell if I know! But I''m gonna keep talkin'' anyway! Got lots of great tunes to brighten up this depressing sea of brown and ck, listeners - the Ink Spots, Bob Crosby, and a bit of Nat King Cole, too. But right now, I''ve got a special treat, listeners: a record I found just the other week! I know, right? It''s the amazing, the astounding, the iparable E Fitzgerald singing about that feeling you only get once in a "Blue Moon."</em>


    The <strong>Moon</strong>.


    <em>Of course</em>.


    All around me, I could hear the faint sounds of bickering, and arguing, and incoherent shouted hysterics thanks to this news. The noises were buzzing around my head like wasps, and I couldn''t really make sense of any of it. I wasn''t paying attention. Chris and I were just standing there, looking up at the screen in silence.


    "You seem to be taking this very well," I broke the silence, turning to Chris. He just kept staring up at the screen with that confident smirk of his.


    "To be honest?" He shrugged. "It makes a decent amount of sense that they''reing from the Moon." It felt like my eyebrow was going to pop right off my face.


    "How''s that?"


    "It exins what I found when I attacked the Redstone Arsenal," he said. "The base was mostly empty when I ransacked it. But I <em>did</em> find a lot of highly advanced designs and schematics. Stuff like mass driverunch systems, artificial gravity hoppers, sma-powered rockets, that sort of thing. I couldn''t find any prototypes or any evidence that they were anything more than drawings on paper, so I wasn''t able to make heads or tails of it at the time. But now, it seems obvious!"


    "Fair... enough..." I nodded slowly.


    "What about you?" he asked. "You seem strangely calm as well. What, are you ovee with shock, and it just hasn''t sunk in yet?"


    "No, it''s not that..." I went back to staring at the image on the big monitor. "I was just thinking. After all the other shit I''ve seen like giant man-eating nts, multiple omnicidal maniacs, mad scientists, teleporters, intelligent talking deathws, a power mad AI trapping me in a death maze, the fucking <em>Divide</em>, and a robot dog who can drive a car... hell, space Nazis from the Moon doesn''t really seem all that far-fetched."


    There was a long, pregnant pause.


    "Really?" Chris asked, throwing me a knowing smile.


    "No, not really," I admitted. "But, I figure if I say it enough times, I might actually start to believe it." Chris startedughing, and pped me on the back  with his <em>cybeic hand</em>. Damn nearly knocked the wind out of me. "Al-alright... so. What''s the n? How do we deal with a bunch of assholes with a base on the fuck-mothering <em><strong>Moon</strong></em>?"


    "Well," Chris tapped his chin, turning back to the screen. "I''ve taken down a lot of Enve bases before. We definitely need a lot of firepower, but speed is the key. Too many people, and things get messy, like that time the Brotherhood helped me take out Fort Knox. Twenty Pdins backing me up, and Sarah Lyons and I were the only survivors." He paused again, and then snapped his fingers. "A small strike force should probably do the trick. Maybe... four people? Any more than that and it''ll be too unwieldy; any less, and we won''t have enough firepower to take them on."


    "Okay..." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "But how "


    "Besides," Chris continued, oblivious to my annoyance. "If only four of us go to the Moon, then there''ll be enough people down here to protect Vegas. You know... just in case that cloud cover you made dissipates, and they start teleporting more troops and war-droids down. With any luck, we should be able to blow up the ce before that happens, but just in case, you know? Fawkes and Dogmeat are the best pair of defenders I know, and if they''re backed up by your pet deathw and his minigun? This ce should be locked up tighter than a nun''s skirt." He thought about that for a second, and then waggled his eyebrows at me from behind his sunsses. "Ironic, considering where we are!"


    "You don''t want to bring Stripe with us?" I asked quickly, to try and grab his attention. "Are you sure you don''t want his big gun watching your back?"


    "I''ve got some pretty big guns of my own," he replied. "Besides, he probably counts for four or five people <em>all on his own</em>. You don''t want that big a profile on something that isn''t expendable."


    "Okay, yeah, that''s fair..." I pointed at the screen. "But, there''s still therger issue at hand. It''s the <em>Moon</em>. How are we gonna <em>get</em> to the Moon? It''s the <strong>MOON</strong>!" Chris just grinned broadly.


    "Don''t worry about that. I''ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve..." Great. That wasn''t cryptic or anything. Before I got the chance to ask what he meant, he looked down at his Pip Boy, and held up a finger. "In the meantime, we should get our fourth soon."


    "What do you mean, ''our fourth''?" I asked. He didn''t look up from his Pip Boy.


    "Wait for it... and..." He looked up, snapped his fingers, and pointed at the monitor. "Go!"


    As if on cue, the monitor flickered. The wireframe scan of the lunar surface disappeared, and Yes Man''s face winked into life.


    "Hello, sir!" his voice boomed and echoed throughout the chamber, causing everyone to stop and pay attention. "I have news from down below!"


    "News?" I asked, looking up at his big cartoon face smiling down at me. "What kind of news?" As I spoke, the screen winked again, and became a video feed. It looked like it was a real-time broadcast, from one of the securitrons guarding Tuera downstairs. She was still stuck in the chair, but she was looking directly at the camera. Even with the ck and white picture, I could tell her eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks were wet.


    "-alk to Sheason," she growled, staring straight at the camera. "I want to talk to Sheason. I want to talk to Sheason..." She just kept repeating herself over and over again, like a robot. The image disappeared, and Yes Man returned.


    "I could be mistaken, but I think she wants to talk to you!" Yes Man said. I turned to Chris, who was looking at me with an expression of smug self-satisfaction.


    "Okay, seriously. How do you <em>do </em>that?" Chris shrugged.


    "It''s a gift."


    While Fawkes rallied everyone upstairs, going over the finer points of fighting off these Moon Enve, Chris and I caught the elevator downstairs.


    "So, this ''Tuera'' is an old me of yours, huh?" Chris asked. "The fabled One Who Got Away, yeah?" Oh, right  he was busy trying and failing to interrogate her during that conversation. He wouldn''t know.


    "I wish people would stop calling her that..." I grumbled, leaning against the wall of the elevator. I shook my head. "I hardly recognize her. She <em>looks </em>the same, but she''s..." A lump formed in the back of my throat. "She''s <em>nothing</em> like I remember." Chris startedughing, and I looked up at him with a scowl. "Something funny?" I snapped.


    "No, not really. But I can definitely rte to... this. That''s all."


    "Oh yeah?" I cocked an eyebrow, and Chris nodded.


    "You know how you never forget your first?" He asked rhetorically. "Well, my first was a girl named Amata. She was the daughter of the Overseer in Vault 101, where I grew up. We dated in secret for a while, but that ended pretty abruptly when my dad left the Vault. I went after him... a clueless neen year old Vault kid who didn''t know Jack about the world, searching up and down the Capitol Wastnd for his old man. I tried to convince Amata toe with me, because I thought it would be like those old road-trip romances she and I liked to watch..." Chris started chuckling and shook his head. "But she said no. I left the Vault, and she stayed behind..."


    Ding.


    Chris was silent as he and I walked out of the elevator. He almost looked contemtive... but quickly shook it off.


    "Long story short, I made my way back to the Vault after a whole bunch of adventures in the wastnd, because " he furrowed his brow as we walked, like he was looking for the right word. " well, there was this whole <em>thing</em>. It''s not important. The point is, I tried reconnecting with her, but even in the rtively short time I''d been gone... she''d changed a <strong>lot</strong>." He looked down at his robotic arm, and flexed his hand several times. "But I guess... I had, too."


    "No dice, huh?" I asked. Chris shook his head, and looked up at me with a smile.


    "There are some days I wonder if it could ever have worked out. I just stop and think about what my life would''ve been like  what <em>both </em>our lives could''ve been like." He shrugged. "But I can''t dwell on the what if, the could''ve been, or the if only. You start pulling on those threads... and the whole tapestry of your life is bound to unravel."


    The two of us continued our walk down the cell block hallway in silence. Personally, I weed it; I needed the chance to focus. When we finally reached it, Tuera was looking up, waiting for us. Then again, it''s not like she could <em>go </em>anywhere, could she?


    The door slid down into the floor, and I stepped inside. Tuera stared up at me with puffy, bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. Apart from that, her expression was carved out of granite.


    "You''re going to attack the Enve Headquarters when you find it, aren''t you?" Tuera asked, before I had a chance to say anything. That was enough of a surprise to stop me in my tracks, but it wasn''t nearly as surprising as what she said next:


    "I want <strong>in</strong>."


    "You  <em>what</em>?" I asked, just a little caught off guard.


    "You''re going to fight the Enve. I want to help you."


    My mind was reeling. I tried to ease the pain by rubbing my temple, but it was no use. I couldn''t handle this emotional roller coaster any more. Someone, please stop the crazy thing! It''s time to get off.


    "And why... the <strong>fuck</strong>... should I believe... anything... you... say?" I was taking very deep breaths, still trying and failing to keep calm. I was gritting my teeth so hard, it felt like they were going to fuse together. Tuera just kept staring up at me with her bloodshot eyes.


    "All my life, I''ve considered myself a patriot," Tuera said calmly. "I wanted to serve my country, because I thought the Enve stood for America... stood for the America I believed in..." Tuera finally broke eye contact, and hung her head. "But after the destruction of the Oil Rig, and I found out what the Enve had <em>really </em>been doing, I started to question all that I''d been fighting for. And even when I got new orders, the doubts remained. Scratching away in the back of my mind..." She picked her head back up. "I kept trying to tell myself that I could ept all the terrible things I had done  all the terrible things the Enve had done  because the ends would justify the means. I kept trying to tell myself that the Enve was working to make a better world... working to restore <em>America</em>." She paused, shaking her head. "But I can''t keep lying to myself. Not anymore. The Enve has steered America <strong>wrong</strong>. And I need to try and put it <strong>right</strong>."


    I nced back at Chris, who was no help at all. He was standing on the other side of the Plexis wall, giving me two thumbs up.


    "Nice speech," I said as coldly as I could manage, turning back to her. "Did youe up with that on the spot, or did you write that down first?"


    Tuera didn''t say anything.


    "You still didn''t answer my question," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "Why should I believe you? An hour ago, you were saying we couldn''t win."


    "You <strong>can''t</strong> win," she replied. "<em>We</em> can''t. The Enve is an unstoppable military colossus, with overwhelming firepower on its side. We can''t possibly hope to win if we fight them..." She hung her head and shook it. "But I''m dead either way." She picked her head up, and fixed me with a look that turned my blood to ice water. "If I am to meet my end, it won''t be in this concrete <strong>box</strong>. It will be with a curse on my lips and my finger on the trigger." Tuera''s expression softened, and she practically whispered her next words to me: "Sheason... please. Let me die <strong>fighting</strong>."


    I took several backwards steps away from her. The horror of the situation was hitting me so hard, it was almost palpable. It was like trying to chew a mouth full of sawdust. With every word, she distanced herself more and more from... from...


    I stepped out of the cell entirely, and reached over to the control panel next to the Plexis on the concrete wall. Chris was staring intently at me. My hand hovered over the buttons, and I hesitated.


    "Do you believe her?" I whispered. Chris nodded. "Why?"


    "Because recruiting her is listed as an optional quest objective?" I blinked in confusion. He was using words, but they meant nothing.


    "Wait, <em>what</em>?" I asked. Chris raised an eyebrow, like he wasn''t sure why I was confused.


    "I said, I believe her because you can''t fake conviction like that," he stated simply. He didn''t... Had I misheard... never mind. I shook it off, and he continued. "You can fake quite a lot of things in this life... but that''s something you can''t cheat." Chris paused, smiling at me and nodding. "It reminds me of what I saw in <em>your </em>eyes when you were talking about all the people you swore to protect in the city."


    I looked back into the cell, staring at Tuera through the ss. She stared back at me, intent and unblinking.


    "Alright."


    I tapped the button on the small control panel, and all of the electromas immediately shut off; the metal restraints keeping Tuera tied to the chair utched, and she leaned forward with nothing to hold her down anymore.


    "You''re wrong about one thing, though," I walked back into the cell and offered Tuera my hand; she epted it cautiously, and I pulled her up onto her feet. "We''re gonna fight. And we''re gonna <strong>win</strong>."


    For the first time since her helmet came off, a faint smirk crept into the side of her mouth.


    A few minutester, Tuera and I were in the armory  technically, one of the spare rooms in the suite. It''s where we''d been keeping all the weapons we''d stolen over thest few weeks (like the giant pile of guns we''d grabbed from the Silver Rush) but at least it was more organized now, what with all the ammo shelves and weapon racks. If we were gonna take the fight to the Enve, then she needed her gear back, and I needed to restock as well. Chris, meanwhile, said he needed to contact our "ride," but when pressed, he kept his answers intentionally cryptic like before. Apparently he didn''t want to ruin the "surprise," whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.


    The only thing I was really worried about was how the rest of the gang would react to Tuera being free. Then again... knowing all of them, they''d been up in the penthouse, watching the whole thing go down on Yes Man''s big screen. So maybe I didn''t need to worry after all.


    "You know," I said, reaching for some sma grenades. "I still have a lot of questions for you." Tuera didn''t turn to look at me. She focused herself on the nearby table, where we''d piled all her gear, and was inspecting it, one piece at a time.


    "I imagine that''s so," she said softly.


    "The first one should be pretty obvious..." I said. "You haven''t aged  that''s because of Project ASCENSION, isn''t it?" She froze in ce, and the piece of tech in her hands ttered back onto the desk. Slowly, carefully, she turned to look at me with wide-eyed astonishment.


    "How... how do you <em>know</em> about that?" she asked. I shrugged.


    "After our tussle in Red Rock canyon, I did some digging to try and find out who you were," I hesitated briefly, trying to figure out exactly what I should say. I didn''t know if <em>she</em> knew about the Remnants from Squad Gannon, and didn''t want to give them away on the off chance she <em>didn''t</em>. "The guy I talked to seemed to think that super soldier program was just a fairy tale, and that it never got past the code name. But it was real. Wasn''t it?" Tuera nodded slowly, and turned back to her gear.


    "Yes. Not a lot of people on the oil rig knew, but... they were able to get the word out discreetly in the winter of ''39. 100 subjects were gathered for the project. Volunteers. Or..." Tuera paused, clearing her throat. "People who were <em>volunteered</em>. We were all injected with some manner of <em>serum</em>. We were never told exactly what it was. But FEV was the basis."


    "Wait, back up," I said. She looked over her shoulder at me. "Did you... a <em>hundred</em> people? Holy shit! How many..." Tuera cut me off.


    "Only three people survived the process," she said grimly. "Staff Sergeant Stone, Petty Officer Corvus... and myself." She paused, still fiddling with one of her weapons. "For the longest time, I thought I was the sole survivor. Not only that, but the serum must have halted my aging... or made it slow to a crawl, if nothing else. I haven''t aged a day since ''41. It''s probably the FEV, doing the same thing it does to ghouls and super mutants..."


    "How old <em>are</em> you?" I asked, and then quickly added: "Y''know, if you don''t mind me asking." She shrugged, continuing to work on her gear. She thumbed a button on the pistol in her hands, and it folded into a box, which she attached to her thigh with a click.


    "68," she replied tly. I couldn''t help but let out a low whistle.


    "If it''s any constion, you''re the most attractive 68 year-old I''ve ever met," I said with a smirk. Amazingly, Tuera actually startedughing. <em>Well</em>, chuckling, at least. <em>Well</em>, okay, a single sort ofughing-snort. But I''ll take it! That was progress!


    "Thanks..." She grabbed one of her rifles with her left hand, and started checking it; I couldn''t help but start kicking myself. The fact that she was a southpaw should''ve tipped me off to her identity <em>ages</em> ago. "But... theck of aging wasn''t the only... there were other less... <em>wholesome</em> side effects to the procedure." Oh shit. She''s starting to go back into herself again. I needed to do something to pull her out.


    "Does this mean that when we first met," I absentmindedly grabbed a handful of armor piercing 5.56 rounds for That Gun as I spoke. "And I beat the shit out of those three dudes who were trying to mug you in that alley... you didn''t need my help <strong>at all</strong>, did you?" She tried to hide it, but she actually  legitimately  smiled.


    "Of course not." The rifle in her hands folded up, and she attached it to one of the mounts on her back. "The thing is, though... no one had ever stuck up for me like that before. I mean... yeah, I didn''t <em>need </em>the help. But it had never <em>happened</em> before. I really appreciated the gesture. I thought it was..." she paused, looking at me over her shoulder and smiled. "... sweet."


    "Oh yeah?" I smiled back at her, and she shrugged.


    "Well, I <em>did</em> agree to dinner after, didn''t I?" I couldn''t help but smile andugh, thinking back to that first date. That... was a <em>good</em> night. While I was reminiscing about better days gone by, Tuera turned back to her gear. She grabbed therger rifle, and it immediately opened up and transformed itself into a sniper rifle. Fully unfolded, it had to be longer than my anti-materiel rifle.


    "So, Tuera Smith is your full name, huh?" I asked after a while, grabbing some ammunition for the Ranger Sequoia. "I always wondered about that. We never really talked about names when we were together, did we?" She hesitated, pausing in the inspection of her rifle.


    "Uh..." she thumbed a button on the side, and the massive sniper rifle folded in on itself and turned into a rtively small box. "No. No, that''s not my real... Tuera is... it''s my <em>code name</em>. It''s the call sign I chose for myself when I became a Shadow. Ites from a mangled French word I learned in school. It''s supposed to mean ''to kill,'' which I thought was appropriate for an..." She sighed, cing the sniper rifle on her back with a click. "Anyway. When the oil rig was destroyed, I... decided to keep using it, instead of using my real name."


    "Really?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Why''s that?" She shrugged.


    "I always <strong>hated</strong> my real name. I never felt like it... <em>fit </em>me. It didn''t make me feel like <em>myself</em>." She sighed again, and turned around to face me fully. "Tuera is who I <em>really</em> am. I never thought of myself as a <em>Mary Sue Smith</em>. Not really."


    "Yeah, you''re right," I said with a smile, nodding at her. "I can''t see you as a Mary Sue, either." Tuera smiled weakly and shook her head, turning back to her gear.


    "It''s kinda funny," she sniffed loudly, inspecting the many small boxes  each no bigger than a cigarette lighter  that Chris had informed me were <em>grenades</em>. "All the horrible things I''ve done over the years, all the people I''ve killed, all the lies I''ve told... and that <em>one</em> fact about my <em>real</em> name is what embarrasses me the most."


    I nodded... and decided to help ease her embarrassment.


    "Jason," I said, as clear and as loud as I could manage. She stopped what she was doing, and looked over at me in confusion.


    "What?"


    "That''s... the name my parents gave me. It''s Jason. Jason Fisher." She blinked at me several times, and her mouth slowly opened in surprise. "Y''know how I told you I grew up on the back of a caravan?" She nodded slowly. "Well, the guy who took me in..." after my dad dropped me off like a sack of potatoes, I didn''t say "...was this crusty old prospector that people called Harry. And the thing you need to understand about Harry..." I grinned, baring my teeth, and started waving a finger back and forth at my mouth. "...is that he was missing <em>all four</em> of his front teeth."


    Tuera was still looking at me,pletely stunned and confused, but she did smile and start chuckling. And I took that as a good sign.


    "He pronounced ''Jason'' about as well as you might expect,plete with gallons of spittle every time. He was the only one who ever spoke to my dad, so everyone assumed my name was ''Sheason.'' It wasn''t until yearster that I found out the truth, but by then it didn''t really matter. I liked Sheason better, and decided to keep it." I leaned against the wall, and shrugged. "The point is... just because your parents called you one thing doesn''t mean that''s your ''real'' name. Who you <em>really</em> are is whoever you''re mostfortable being. And there''s no reason to be ashamed about that at all."


    Tuera stared at me for several seconds. Her look of confusion did not seem to be going away any time soon.


    "You... you never told me that story," she said, finally managing to find her voice again. I shrugged, and went back to finding ammunition.


    "Yeah, well..." I sighed. "I suppose we <strong>both</strong> kept a lot of secrets from each other, didn''t we?" I nced her way briefly, and she turned back to what she had been doing as well.


    "I suppose so," she said softly. The two of us worked in silence for a while, at opposite corners of the room. I wasn''t even really looking for anything else  I had pretty much all the gear I needed, since that was kind of the whole point of the Jury Rigger not needing ammo.


    "Hey... Tu?" I finally broke the silence. "Could... could we have ever worked?"


    Tuera didn''t answer me at first. She just kept grabbing her knives, one by one, and sheathing them in the various hiding spots on her armor.


    "No," she said, not even bothering to look up at me. "No, we... we couldn''t." She sighed heavily. "When I met you, I... I thought that I could hide what I am." Tuera nced over her shoulder at me. "I may... <em>look </em>human. But only on the <em>outside.</em>" She turned back to what she was doing. "I thought I could pretend that I was anything more than the <strong>monster</strong> they made me... but... it was a dream, Sheason. We were... nothing more than a dream..."


    "You just woke up first," Ipleted for her. She hung her head, and started nodding slowly.


    "I''m sorry..." she whispered. "I-if... if it makes you feel any better... you were the only..." she gulped loudly, in an attempt to buy herself some time. "You were the closest... I ever got. It just wasn''t close enough, I guess."


    "Hrm..." I grumbled. I nced up, and saw that the table where we''d kept all Tuera''s gear was nowpletely empty. She took her helmet in her hands, and reattached it to her suit with a hiss and a pop.


    "Let''s go," she said firmly, her voice altered by the filter in the helmet. The two of us started to make our way out of the armory, but were stopped by the appearance of Cass in the doorway. She didn''t seem to be freaking out that Tuera was free and moving about, so I guess I was right that everyone had seen our conversation go down on the big screen.


    "Cass? What "


    "I''min'' with ya, an'' I need some ammo," she cut me off, brushing past the both of us, casual as you like, and making a beeline for where we kept the 12 gauge shells.


    "But y-" Again, I was cut off.


    "Shut up," she pointed at me with a smirk. "B''fore y''say shit, I got words fer yer dumb ass, motherfucker. Every time you''ve done this kinda shit, you''ve gone all by yerself. It happened with th'' Sierra Madre, it happened with th'' Big Empty, an'' it happened when y''went to th'' Divide. An'' I''m here to tell ya: <strong>not this time</strong>. You may have those rocket boots an'' th'' grapnel gun t''give you an'' edge, but y''still need someone t''watch yer back. It''s gonna be <strong>me</strong>. This is non-negotiable, motherfucker!"


    "CASS!" I shouted to get her attention, and she finally shut up. I couldn''t help but shake my head andugh. "I agree with you." That seemed to catch her off guard.


    "Y''do?" I nodded.


    "I was actuallying to get you, because I know I can count on you to back me up when shit rockets skyward," I said. "I only have one suggestion, though: Sue. If things go seriously tits-up, then she''ll help you stay alive."


    "Well, what do you know!" I heard Sue''s cheery voice chime in from Cass'' armor. "Great minds really <strong>do</strong> think alike!"


    "We''re wasting time," Tuera grabbed me by the shoulder. "We need to go."


    About a half hourter, everyone was gathered outside the Lucky 38  and I mean <em>everyone</em>. Stripe lumbering out into the open, straight onto Vegas Boulevard and into the Strip, went about as well as could be expected. Most people who saw him screamed or ran for the hills, but the few that stayed seemed to calm down when they noticed he wasn''t actually attacking anyone.


    "You guys gonna be okay while I''m gone?" I asked, petting Stripe on the top of his head. Suddenly, I heard a bark, and Roxie popped out of his mohawk, licking my face before I could react.


    "Do not worry, <strong>,</strong>" Sasha said; Stripe reared back and nodded with a loud snort. "We will make sure to defend point from enemy team!" And then, without further warning, Stripe opened his jaw wide and dragged his long, slimy ck tongue across the side of my face. All around me, I could hear the spontaneous eruption ofughter.


    "AUGH! D-damnit, man!" I said, trying to wipe the slime off my face, andughing the same as everyone else. "Couldn''t you have waited until <em>after </em>I put my fuckin'' helmet on?!"


    "<strong>That''s no fun.</strong>" He started chuckling in that deep, pulsating sort of growlingugh of his. I couldn''tin too much. The slime wasing off pretty easily, and I think everyone needed theugh. Once I''d cleaned off my face (more or less), I walked over to Chris. He was standing in the middle of the street, checking his Pip Boy.


    "Alright," I said, securing my helmet. "I think it''s about time you told us: <em>how</em> are we getting to the Moon?" I looked around at the mostly empty street. "And where is your ride?" Instead of answering me, he held up a finger.


    "Hey, Sally?" He said into his Pip Boy. "Have you got a fix on my position?"


    "I''m seeing green all across the console!" the same feminine voice from earlier buzzed out of his Pip Boy''s speaker. "Transporter room three is ready to receive visitors. Hope you like the view!" Chris looked up, to make sure that Cass, Tuera and I were all close by.


    "Make it so, number one!" He flicked a switch on his Pip Boy and nodded at us. "You may want to brace yourselves. This could feel a little odd."


    Before I could ask, there was a massive thunderp above us. I looked up, and there was some kind of turbulence in the clouds... and I would''ve assumed that the shing lightsing from within the cloud cover was natural lightning if it wasn''t for the rainbow of colors I was seeing. Blues, yellows, greens, oranges, purples, reds... every color in the spectrum seemed to be pulsating and shing above our heads.


    Suddenly, a column of blue light fell out of the sky, and surrounded our position. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I suddenly felt <em>lighter</em>... which made sense, since the four of us seemed to be <em>levitating off the ground</em>. Only Chris seemed to be used to this, as he was looking up with an unconcerned smile.


    It wasn''t until I felt the familiar pulling sensation deep in the pit of my gut that I realized what was happening: there was a bit more pomp and circumstance to it, but we were definitely getting teleported up to something. It didn''t feel <em>quite</em> the same as the Big Empty tele-


    -port. Wait... that was  okay! So, that was a whole lot smoother and a whole lot faster that I''m used to!


    "The fuck?" I looked around, trying to get my bearings. Three of us were standing on arge circr tform, lit up from below by several strange orange disks. The walls all around us looked... <em>chrome</em>? Chris, meanwhile, had already stepped off the tform and was making his way to a nearby wall.


    A <em>curved </em>wall. That''s odd. Of course, that wasn''t nearly as odd as how <em>light </em>I felt. I knew how much armor, weapons, and ammo I was carrying, but I felt stupendously light on my feet.


    "Since you were so gracious as to let me into <em>your</em> house," Chris said to me with a smile as I approached. "I thought it only fair to return the favor."


    "Where are we?" I asked. Chris pressed a round panel on the wall next to him; it glowed and hummed at his touch... and then the wall split apart, revealing a window. And <em>outside</em>?


    "What th'' <strong>fuck</strong>?!" Cass shouted.


    "Oh, wow." Even Tuera sounded impressed.


    I saw arge, curved horizon of brown, blue, and white stretching out below us, backed by an infinite curtain of stars, shining brighter than I''d ever seen before. I tried to quiet down the sense of overwhelming vertigo that desperately wanted me to start screaming hysterically. That... that was definitely <em>Earth </em>below us!


    <strong>Space</strong><em>. </em>We''re in <em>SPACE</em>! Holy fuck, we''re actually in <em><strong>space</strong></em>!


    "Wee to my home," Chris said, beaming at us with the biggest shit-eating grin in the entire universe. "I give you... Mothership Zeta."

 Chapter 154: The Final Frontier

    Chapter 154: The Final Frontier


    <em>You''re listening to the one, the only  and still the best  Gxy News Radio! We''re Radio Free Wastnd, spinnin'' that great guerri sound for any willing to fight the Good Fight. I''m your host, Three Dog, and I''m here... for you. Now, it''s time for some more music: It''s Dinah Washington, singin'' about that "Destination Moon." Are you noticing a pattern, children? Because there''s definitely a pattern!</em>


    You know, I can ept the fact that we''re in space. No problem. I mean... we''re going to the Moon, after all. So that makes sense. I can <em>also </em>ept the whole alien mothership thing. The appearance and advanced technology used by the Roadkill, the fact that Chris has an alien ster, his interest in the downed UFO... all that adds up to a big alien <em>something, </em>so I suppose this fits the bill. It makes <em>sense</em>. I can <em>ept</em> that. That''s not what''s throwing me off here.


    No, the thing fucking with me <strong>right now</strong> is the sudden and unexpected sensation of vertigo that is currently hitting me like a <em>fucking </em><em><strong>freight train</strong></em>. On the one hand, the sight was undeniably majestic. The inky ck void of infinity stretching out forever with the shining blue jewel of Earth below me truly was a magnificent sight to behold, and was something I never expected to see.


    And that''s kind of the problem, really  I couldn''t prepare for this. I was very much aware that I was staring out into <em>infinity</em>, and the only thing separating me from <em>nothing</em> was what looked like a thin sheet of ss. I knew what <em>nothing </em>could do to a man. All the horribly painful scenarios I''d seen in sci fi holotapes were shing through my head like an incredibly gory slideshow of exploding heads and blood boiling out of my ears and a body spiraling off into the depths of space forever to slowly suffocate and freeze to death and... and...


    oh fuck me everything is spinning why is everything spinning please make it stop


    "Right, so... run this by me again?" Cass said somewhere ahead of me, as the four of us walked along a curved corridor. I grit my teeth, and tried to keep my cool  if only on the surface. Just focus, Fisher. Compartmentalize. Keep moving.


    "A few years ago, I was abducted by aliens!" Chris said, matter-of-factly. "But as it turns out, I was just a <em>little</em> bit too spicy for Yog Sothoth!"


    "Wait, who?" Cass asked. Honestly, I wasn''t bothering to be confused. I was just d for the distraction.


    "Nevermind, it''s just a figure of speech." Chris continued. "The point is, I promptly escaped, killed all the aliens, had a really climactic showdown in low orbit with another alien mothership, and took this ce all for myself! It was just that easy!"


    "Somehow I doubt that," I heard Tuera mutter quietly behind me. I snorted out augh, but tried to stifle it.


    "Nah, I got all <em>that</em>," Cass shrugged,cing her fingers behind her head as she walked. "What doesn''t make sense is... well... you''ve got this big-ass spaceship, right? What th'' fuck do y''even need that Roadkill thing''fer if you can just zip about in this thing?"


    "Well, the teleporter doesn''t work without coordinates, for one thing!" Chris exined. "If I tried to teleport to a ce I''ve never been to in person, I could wind up torn in half or teleported into rock or something! So, I just use the map data in my Pip Boy if I want to fast travel anywhere, and that means going there in person first. Besides... if I used Zeta to travel everywhere, I''d miss out on so much stuff," He started counting off on his fingers as he spoke. "Adventure, loot, caps, interesting people, fascinating stories... Zapping past that is just no fun!"


    "So, how big is this ship, anyway?" I finally grunted out. Just focus on the inside, Fisher. Don''t look out the window. Focus. Compartmentalize. Chris spun around on the spot, raised a finger, opened his mouth... and then froze. Cass, Tuera and I paused as well, looking at each other and up at him in confusion.


    "Did he just shut down?" Sue squeaked from Cass'' chest. "I didn''t <em>think</em> he was a robot."


    "Uh... Honestly? I''m not sure," Chris finally said, after a very prolonged dy. "You''d have to ask Sally for the best answer, because she knows this ce better than anyone. But to be honest, even <em>I </em>don''t know how big this ce is. Not really."


    "But don''t you <em>live</em> here?" I asked. Chris nodded.


    "Well, yeah, but..." He paused, scratching at the back of his head. "Look, I''ve had to do spacewalks on the outside of this ship, right? And the <em>exterior</em> dimensions don''t seem to gel quite right with the maps I''ve made of the <em>interior</em>. Every now and again, I''lle across another part of the ship that I''ve never noticed before, or I''ll find some bits of non-Euclidean, alien geometry somewhere... like, a window deep in the interior that looks out into deep space, or rooms that should ovep each other but don''t, and hallways that seem much longer or shorter than they should be..." Chris leaned forward, and whispered to us, in aical conspiratorial manner: "It''s subtle, but I''m utterly convinced this ship is <em>slightly bigger</em> on the <em>inside</em>."


    That statement was met with dead silence.


    "I know it sounds nuts, but hear me out," he turned on his heel and started leading us back down the hallway again. "I''ve seen a lot of crazy things on this alien spacecraft. Dark Energy teleporters, the extra dimensional gateways linking the decks, that one hypercube I found and almost got lost in for a month, the quantum tunneling drive... This ce is just a gigantic middle finger to thews of physics. The Zetans seemed really obsessed with spatial maniption and pocket dimensions." Chris paused and cocked his head to the side, thinking; all of us stopped with him. "Not quite as obsessed as they are with Giddyup Buttercup toys, but still. It''s a close second." Again, dead silence for a few seconds.


    "Do you really expect us to believe that?" Cass asked, breaking the silence.


    "I believe it," I said, earning me a bit of a strange look from Cass and Tuera. (At least... I think it was a weird look from her. It was hard to tell with the helmet.) I just shrugged. "Hell, I''ve seen stranger stuff in the Big Empty," like a gigantic jigsawbyrinth of moving test chambers underneath the Big Empty crater run by a power mad AI, I didn''t say. "And alien teleporters are clearly A Thing That Exist. So why not?"


    "Considering that we''re in apletely different part of the ship now and you still haven''t noticed..." Chris grinned broadly. "I''d say it''s pretty believable!"


    The three of us looked around and  sure enough  we were no longer in that same corridor we''d been in when we''d stopped. The four of us were standing on a raised tform on the edge of arge spherical room, dominated in the center by a huge glowing pir that was humming and pulsating slowly. It looked like an engine room of some sort,plete with dangerous looking machinery, steam vents, and cris-crossing catwalks covered in chrome.


    "The fuck?!" Cass shouted hysterically, looking around. "How the hell did we get <em>here</em>?! Weren''t we just "


    "Sorry about that!" A young sounding feminine voice echoed from somewhere above us. "But you guys were taking too long, so I tapped into the teleport matrix to speed you up a bit."


    CLANG!


    A metal vent fell down from the ceiling above us, ttering against the chromed metal deck tes with a ring. Cass, Tuera and I all looked up just as a tiny teenage girl in dirty engineer coveralls andbat boots dropped right into the middle of us. She looked up at us with a smile and a wave, brushing her dirty blonde hair (mostly tied behind her head in a long ponytail) out of her eyes. She had a strange metal device attached to her left arm  it was definitely alien, and wasn''t a Pip Boy, but looked like it served roughly the same purpose. Every pocket of her coveralls seemed to be overflowing; chock full of strange and exotic alien devices of unknown purpose.


    "Hello!" she beamed, speaking in a yful sort of sing-song. "I''m Sally, Zeta''s second-inmand and chief engineer! Pleased to meet ya!" She extended a hand to us while Chris loomed over her with a raised eyebrow.


    "You''re Zeta''s <em>only</em> engineer, Sal." She had to crane her neck to look up at Chris; the size difference between the two of them was absolutely hysterical.


    "Would you rather I call myself Ste Skyfire?" She reached up and flicked Chris right between the eyes; he recoiled with a yelp. "Eh, <em>Captain Cosmos</em>?" She started pointing andughing at him as Chris rubbed his face. Tuera was the first of us to step forward, as Cass and I were just looking on in confusion.


    "Aren''t you a little young to be an engineer?" she asked, her tonepletely level. A bit... <em>too</em> level, in fact. Was she silently freaking out like I was? At least Cass was freaking out <em>externally</em> about the utter absurdity of our situation.


    "Hey now," Sally leaned forward indignantly, cing her hands on her hips. "I''ll have you know, I''m older than <strong>all</strong> of you! Probably." She folded her arms across her chest in what I can only assume was supposed to be an indignant gesture. "I''m two hundred and sixteen years old, thank you very much! I think that''s quite old enough to be chief engineer of a starship, so there!" As if to punctuate her thought, she stuck her tongue out at Tuera... and then Chris reached around, grabbing her in a headlock. "GAHK!"


    "You were frozen for most of that time, Sal!" As he spoke, he bopped her on the head gently and gave her a yful noogie  to her vocal and quite apparent annoyance.


    "Let me go, ya big lummox!" She startedughing, iling in his grip, and trying to punch him in the side of his head. "Lemme go! I''ll bite yer legs off! Raarrghlgh!"


    "<strong>AHEM.</strong>" Tuera grunted out loudly. "If you two are quite finished, we have <em>work</em> to do." The two of them paused in their yful mock-fight, and they both got back on their feet.


    "Right, the Enve HQ!" Sally nodded, snapping her fingers. "That reminds me. You didn''t say in your message where we''re going. Where <em>are </em>we going?" Chris looked momentarily sheepish and grinned, scratching at the back of his head.


    "Wellll... the thing is... we''re going... to... the Moon." Cass and I looked at each other curiously, wondering why he was so embarrassed.


    "AH-HAH!" Sally shouted, pping excitedly and pointing straight at Chris. "I knew it! Pay up!" Chris sighed and shook his head.


    "Man, this trip is bing expensive..." heughed. He noticed our confused expressions and rified: "The two of us had a bet about where we were going to eventually find the Enve headquarters." Sally swatted Chris against the side of his metal arm.


    "He thought it was gonna be somewhere like ska or Hawaii. Maybe an old military base overseas, like in Germany somewhere. You know, somece <em>sensible </em>or <em>practical</em>! But I told him this: ''It''s <em><strong>you</strong></em>! Your life is <empletely ridiculous</em>, and it''ll end up being a secret Nazi moon base, for sure,'' but he didn''t believe me!" She patted his chest and rubbed her fingers together eagerly. "Now,e on. I''ve been waiting to collect on this for <em>two years</em>!"


    "Hopefully, we''ll all live long enough for you to waste it," Chris said cheerfully. "But Tuera over there is right, we have work to do. Think we should show them the War Room?" Sally nodded, turned on her heel without a word, and tapped a few buttons on her wrist mounted alienputer. There was a rumble of moving machinery at the edge of the tform, and suddenly the metal began to rearrange itself  turning into a staircase leading down.


    "Follow me, I know the way," Sally said as she hopped down the stairs. "And I promise  no air vent escapes!"


    "That''s what you said thest time I got lost in Waste Disposal..." Chris grumbled, following her down the stairs.


    The ''teleportation matrix'' on this ship <em>feels </em>strange, simply because... it doesn''t <em>feel </em>like anything at all. I walked forward, stepping on an orange metal disk on the floor, there''s a barely perceptible shimmer, and suddenly I''m in apletely different location with no loss of momentum whatsoever. No yanking sensation in the pit of my gut, no vertigo, no... <em>nothing</em>.


    I looked around this new room, to try and figure out where I was now. Like everything else on this ship, there was chrome everywhere, but quite a lot more besides. He called this a war room, but it honestly looked a lot like a trophy cab mixed with an armory. There were dozens of weapons mounted on pegboard walls, but they were allbeled  and quite a few of them looked like they''d exploded from the inside. Broken pieces of those humanoid robots we''d fought littered several of the tables, with signs poking out of them that said things like "SHOOT HERE MORON!" Off in the corner, I saw what looked like half of one of those flying wings.


    There were also multiple different suits of damaged power armor, alsobeled like the weapons and robots. X-01: "Advanced," X-02: "Adv. MkII," X-03: "Hellfire," and so on. The numbers went all the way up to X-06, which read "?" but I could tell (even through all the melted pieces and bullet holes) that this was the type of armor worn by the Enve troops that teleported into Vegas.


    I wandered deeper into the room, to try and see what I could find. Hidden behind several pairs of power armor was a map of the US mounted on the wall; it had dozens of push-pins and twice as many lines of colored string connecting them. While the teleport matrix disk hummed over and over again, I just took in all the details of the map. All thebeled pins were Enve bases Chris had "visited,"plete with a few pictures and baseyouts here and there, to fully drive home just how <em>big </em>each base had been. Sure, I''d <em>heard</em> him before when he listed off the names, but I didn''t quite realize...


    Raven Rock. Adams Air Base. The Joliet Arsenal. The Redstone Arsenal. Fort Bragg. Fort Knox. Fort Hood. Tyndall Air Base. Parris Ind. Minot Air Base. There was even a marker for a ce called CFB Edmonton in <em>fucking </em><em><strong>Canada! </strong></em>How could there possibly be <em>this man</em>y?!


    "You have questions," Chris said, appearing at my shoulder. I''ll give him his due: for someone that huge, he can move silent as a cat. I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving the map.


    "Y''know... before this afternoon, I was under the impression that the Enve were a bunch of a beaten-down old timers. Just a handful of old fucks, still fighting the same war they lost 40 years ago. At least, that''s what it sounded like whenever Veronica or Arcade brought them up..." I turned to Chris, gesturing at the map. "This... this is <em>insane</em>! And this isn''t even counting that moon base we know fuck-all about! Where the <em>hell</em> are they getting all this manpower?!"


    "I have a few theories," Chris said with a shrug. "Nothing I''ve ever been able to prove, but they all revolve around <em>that</em> ce." Chris pointed at a spot on the map, and I leaned in to read thebel. It was Fort Bragg in North Carolina, but there was another, smaller note under the name:


    "... who the hell is Gary?" I asked.


    "Don''t worry about it," Chris said with a nod. "We''ve got other things to worry about." He grabbed me by the shoulder, spun me around, and I realized that there was a new table in the middle of the room that hadn''t been there before. Had I just not noticed it because of everything else in the room, or was this more of that bizarre alien techno-sorcery architecture?


    "Alright, stop flirting you two," Sally''s voice called out to us; she popped up from behind the table with a chromed metal rod  some kind of alien tool  in her hands. "Get over here. We''re burning daylight." Sally flicked a switch somewhere and the emitters began to hum and glow. And then they flickered and shut off. She gave the table one solid THUMP! with the tool in her hands, and it came back to life.


    "No we''re not! We''re in space," Chris shot back with a smile. "Day is a vestigial mode of time measurement based on sr cycles. It''s not applicable."


    Sally red up at Chris, who just grinned broadly. Without a word, she very calmly threw the metal tool in her hands, and it smacked him square in the middle of his forehead. He yelped, iling in an overzealous and highlyical fashion.


    "Don''t be a smartass!"


    "Jesus, dude!" Cass yelled, recoiling from the sudden outburst. "Calm the fuck down!" Sally, however, just waved it off dismissively.


    "Pfft. C''mon, Chris has been hit in the face with exploding tank shells before. He doesn''t care."


    "It''s true!" Chris chimed in with a smile, holding up the tool that had been thrown at his face. "Sal gets to blow off steam, and I get my hydrospanner back! Everyone wins!" He scratched at the side of his head, inspecting the metal rod in his hands and muttered quietly: "I wondered where this had run off to..."


    "We''re getting off topic," Tuera leaned against the table, growling at us irritably. "I''m not sure we ever got <em>on</em> topic... We need to n our attack."


    "Wait, that''s what you think this is?" Chris asked, apparently confused.


    "I thought that''s what this was!" Sally said indignantly. "That''s why I brought out the holographic nning table!"


    "I just brought you guys down here so you could see the kind of hardware we''re up against. Granted, <em>you -</em>" Chris motioned at Tuera "- probably know more than any of us, but still." Tuera stared at him, her expressionless helmet conveying her intent perfectly. Somehow.


    "So. What <em>is</em> the n of attack?" She asked. Chris shrugged.


    "I dunno. I''m not really good at the whole ''ns'' thing. I make shit up as I go, so usually my ''n'' <em>is </em>attack." Tuera hung her head and sighed, and Cassughed, batting me in the side.


    "Fuck me, no wonder you two get along so well," she said. I couldn''t help but roll my eyes.


    "We still need to-" Tuera began, but halted the instant she heard the teleport matrix at the other end of the room activate. Everyone we knew about was already here... so <em>who wasing? </em>In an instant, she drew the two energy pistols strapped to her hips, and I pulled out That Gun; the two of us pointed our guns at the orange glow above the tform. Neither of us fired as an olive-green Mr. Gutsy robot materialized in the air above the disk.


    "HAH! Excellent!" The robot bellowed, in a gruff voice like an old-world drill sergeant. "Looks like your new recruits are locked, cocked, and primed forbat, sir! That is good!" Tuera and I lowered our guns  more confused, than anything else. The floating robot made a beeline for Chris, and used one of its three arms to salute up to one of its three eye cameras. Chris returned the salute crisply.


    "Sergeant! It''s good to see you, RL-3. What are you doing below decks?"


    "SIR!" The green robot barked. "Science officer Brown thought you could use some grenades, sir!"


    There was a very long pause.


    "...grenades?" Chris asked, uncertainly. RL-3 wobbled in ce, as if thinking.


    "She might have said ''help,'' sir," RL-3 finally replied. Sally buried her face in her hands, trying desperately not tough. She failed.


    "Alright, so," I did my best to keep fromughing as well. "What''s the n?"


    "I got an idea," Cass said, holding up a finger. "Why''n we just blow up th'' Moon?" She looked around at the stunned faces all around her, and pointed at Chris and I. "Oh, c''mon! Don''t even <em>try</em> an'' tell me you two weren''t thinkin'' it! Things fuckin'' <strong>explode</strong> around th'' <strong>both</strong> of you motherfuckers!"


    "I like your moxie, soldier!" RL-3ughed raucously, hovering around us. "You found us a good recruit, this time!"


    "You know, I''m no expert on this," Chris coughed nervously. "But I''m <em>pretty </em>sure blowing up the Moon is a bad idea."


    "That''s riching from <em>you</em>," Sallyughed. "Aren''t you the guy who once said ''if your problem can''t be solved with high explosives, it just means you''re not using enough?"


    "I... ah... Okay, yeah, you got me there." Chris shook his head. "But c''mon, it''s the <em>Moon</em>. We can''t blow up the Moon!"


    "So, not th'' whole thing, then," Cass came back, clearly having a lot of fun with this; Tuera was off to the side, rubbing the side of her helmet. "How ''bout we just blow up th'' part <em>under</em> th'' Enve base? Th'' Moon''s got so many craters, I don''t think anyone''ll notice a few more."


    "Destroying it is kind of a given," I said. "That''s why we''re in a spaceship in the first ce."


    "She does have a good point," Sally chimed in. "We could always use the Death Ray. I mean, I am fairly confident that I''ve got the cooling system issues worked out from the <emst</em> time we tested it out..."


    Cass eyed Sally with a raised eyebrow, and very quickly shuffled her way over to me, whispering in my ear: "Did she just fuckin'' say <em>Death Ray</em>?" I nodded.


    "I believe she did, yes." As the two of us were talking, Chris was fiddling with some controls on the edge of the table, finally making some use of the damn thing. The emitters glowed brightly and hummed, creating the shimmering image of... of... what is that supposed to <em>be</em>? A map?


    "Yeah, we''re probably going to start with the Death Ray," Chris said, trying to fine tune the hologram. "Because one, it''s the Moon, so no coteral damage, and two, it''s the Death Ray, and I love firing that thing because it''s <strong>awesome</strong>."


    "We once spent a week in the asteroid belt, firing it off at anything that looked at us funny," Sally exined, turning to Cass and I. "Basically we were ying ''Asteroids.'' With <strong>actual</strong> asteroids."


    "That was an excellent campaign, make no mistake!" RL-3 bellowed in agreement.


    "But I don''t want to rely on the big green beam of doom," Chris finished his thought, smacking the table once more for good measure. Suddenly, a semi-transparent dome appeared in the air above the 3D map. "For one thing, I''d be prepared to bet money that this Moon base has a sma shield, like that one we saw above Minot, remember?"


    "Wait, sma <em>shield</em>?!" Cass blurted out. "Th'' fuck is a sma shield?"


    "I say we just roll with it, at this point..." I whispered in her ear with augh. "You know it''s only going to get more nuts from here."


    "Another bet, huh?" Sally asked, ignoring Cass'' confusion. Chris nodded in response.


    "I''ve lost a lot of money on this trip, and I''d like to make some of it back."


    "A sma shield isn''t all we have to worry about," Tuera muttered, leaning against the table to get a closer look. She pointed at something near the edge of the map, and looked back up at Chris. "You said this is a map of Minot Air Base, yes?" Chris nodded. "These are SAM emcements along the edge. Surface-to-air missile batteries. Control Station Enve in the Pacific had simr defenses. The Lunar Base will <strong>definitely</strong> have them." Chris furrowed his brow at her words.


    "You sure?" he asked. Tuera nodded curtly.


    "The Enve are paranoid, and justifiably so. Whatever defenses you''ve seen in the past, the Lunar Base will have <strong>all</strong> of them  and <em>more</em>. I''m sure of it." Tuera looked back down at the map, scanning the image for a few seconds before looking back up at Chris. "Do you have maps of the other bases you''ve attacked?"


    "Well... yeah, I do, but shouldn''t you know more than " Chris began, but Tuera cut him off swiftly.


    "I haven''t been to an Enve instation in 40 years," she said. "For thest thirteen, I''ve been going from mission to mission in the wastnd, getting resupplied by airdrop and orders by. <em>You</em> seem to have more intel on modern Enve tactics and bases than <em>I</em> do, so lets put it to good use..." She looked down at the holographic map again, drumming her fingers against the table. "The only way this will work is if we have a n. A well-oiled n." She looked up and stared at Chris, the yellow eyes on her helmet shing slightly. "And what''s the most important part of a well-oiled n?"


    "Seriously? I fly by the seat of my pants all the time, why are you asking me?" Chris tapped his chin thoughtfully, and shrugged. "Pfft. Alright, I dunno. Being one step ahead?"


    "One step ahead isn''t a n, <em>kid</em>..." she scoffed. "Two to three steps ahead, though? Beating an enemy''s move before it''s even made? <em>That''s</em> a n." Tuera started slowly nodding. "That''s what I do <strong>best</strong>."


    After about an hour or so, we all made our way to the bridge of this alien mothership. At least, I <em>think</em> it was an hour. I''m honestly not sure how much time had passed, because the clock on my Pip Boy just kept shing "N/A" at me in big, bold letters. Not only that, but... we were in <em>space</em>. Kinda hard to tell what time it is when there''s no horizon.


    And we certainly had quite the view of that ''no horizon'' in front of us. At the far end of the bridge were four tall windows, like the kind you''d see in a sunroom or conservatory, providing us with a panoramic vista looking out into deep space. I think I must have been getting used to this, because I wasn''t getting hit with the same level of vertigo as before.


    "Well, here we are!" Chris strode past us, and flopped down into the captain''s chair right in the middle of the room. "This is where the magic happens!"


    Out of everything I''d seen so far on this ship, the bridge definitely looked the most hap-hazard. While there was certainly a lot of alien technology (and quite a lot of chrome besides), there was just as much human made crap wired up into everything. It reminded me a lot of what the Penthouse looked like after I first installed Yes Man into the mainframe, and April and Emily started making themselves at home. And it certainly looked plenty lived in, with the neon Nuka C sign, the Gxy News and Captain Cosmos posters, the strings of Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, and the tiny toy dinosaurs perched on every console.


    "Oh! Hi!" I heard a cheery voice from the front of the room, and a woman appeared, climbing up a set of stairs I hadn''t noticed before. "I was wondering when the new arrivals would get here! Always keen to meet new people!"


    The woman was a redhead in an old RobCo jumpsuit underneath a dirtybcoat, and she had a pair of sses perched on the end of her nose  but as she rushed up to greet us, I realized that they had no lenses. She grinned broadly, shaking my hand and looking at me with a crazy, wild-eyed enthusiasm that almost reminded me of D. I wasn''t quite sure why at first. And then:


    "By the way  don''t mind the smell!" She said with a nervousugh. "I was just testing out a few chemicals, but it''s perfectly safe to breathe  really!" Ah, that exins it. She''s a mad scientist! And then I thought about that. Oh <strong>fuck</strong>. She''s a <em>mad scientist</em>.


    This will not end well for me, will it?


    "Ladies and men, meet Moira Brown, chief science officer aboard Zeta and one of my oldest friends," Chris said, lounging in his chair and idly spinning back and forth.


    "This is more of a hobby, really!" she said, stepping back after shaking all our hands. "I consider myself more of a researcher and a publisher these days. You should see the new printing press I put into Craterside Supply a few weeks ago! It''s huge!"


    "Maybe we''ll schedule a field trip after we finish with the Moon," Chris said, flicking the h girl mounted on end of the chair''s arm-panel. "Speaking of which, have you figured out how long the trip is going to take?" Moira nodded several times, almost dislodging the sses on her nose, and rushed over to one of the control panels on the wall. She pulled a pencil out of herbcoat and quickly tapped a series of holographic buttons with the eraser. The lights flickered and dimmed, and arge hologram appeared in front of the windows; it looked like the Earth, the Moon, and a curved, dotted line connecting the two,plete with several blocks of floating numbers.


    "Absolutely! The safest way to get to the Moon is going to be the sublight engines. If we maintain a solid cruising speed of 13 kilometers a second, we should get there in just about eight hours!"


    "Wait, hold th'' fuck up!" Cass brushed past me. "Why''s it gonna take eight hours? We''re in a spaceship! An <em>alien</em> spaceship, at that! Can''t this bitch go faster''n light?" Behind me, I heard Sally let out a groan.


    "Oh, man. Here we go again..."


    "<em>Well</em>... yes... and no," Chris said with a shrug. "This ship has a faster than light drive-"


    "No, it doesn''t!" Moira leaned against one of the railings, cutting him off. "I keep telling you, the warp drive doesn''t <em>actually </em>make us go faster than the speed of light, because we''re not elerating when it-"


    "MOIRA!" Chris shouted, holding up his hands to try and get her to stop. "<strong>I</strong> know this, and <strong>you</strong> know this. But I don''t think our friends want to spend the whole eight hour trip up here listening to the two of us bickering about special rtivity, rtivistic quantum physics, and trying to exin the concept of ''R.'' I''m trying to make things simple enough to understand." Chris spun the chair around to look at us once more. "Like I was saying, this ship has an FTL drive, but it has a very sticky throttle. So to speak."


    "The first time we tried it out, he aimed us at Jupiter." Sally said, leaning around Tuera. "But within seconds, the ship was in orbit around <em>Proxima Centauri</em>. It took us four months to get back to Earth."


    "The Moon is one light <em>second</em> away," Chris continued. "I don''t want to risk an overshoot, so I think we''ll cruise around at 30,000 miles an hour. Which is nothing to sneeze at, let''s be honest!"


    "Seems reasonable," Tuera muttered quietly.


    "Besides," Chris leaned back in his chair, and smiled. "This will give us all plenty of time to rest up, eat up, and gear up. If tomorrow ends up as crazy I <em>think</em> it''s going to be, we''re all going to need to be fresh. So! Without further ado..." Chris swiveled around, and pointed at the windows. "Engage!"


    Moira pressed a button on a nearby console. The deck below my feet shuddered, and the stars beyond the window began to shift. As we all started to leave, I heard Chris and Moira talk about onest thing.


    "Hang on. Someone''s missing..." Chris snapped his fingers. "Oh, right! Elliott! Hey, Moira? Have you seen Tercorien?"


    "Yeah, he''s in the Med Lab. When he found out we were going to the Moon, he wanted to make sure we had enough adapted biogel in stock."


    "That''s a good idea. We may need some on-the-fly patching up when things get loud. And at least he''s not going through the archived captive recordings again..." Chris chuckled. "We don''t have time for another one of his theories about why the aliens were abducting people."


    There were bedrooms on the ship that Chris had set aside for us to use, but... it was pretty obvious that wasn''t what they were <em>supposed</em> to be. All the furniture looked like it had been brought onto the ship from Earth; the bed had definitely seen better days. But it was reasonablyfortable, and as I lounged on the cot I realized I was actually <em>enjoying</em> the view beyond the window, if nothing else.


    I think I was finally getting used to the sight of deep space. Maybe it was because it just looked like the night sky now. Without a in view, it didn''t make me feel like I was falling.


    Knock knock.


    "S''open," I called casually, not really wanting to get up. The door hissed and slid open.


    "Hey man. Can''t sleep, so I thought I''d bug ya," Cass casually sauntered into the room; I sat up, and she sat down on the bed next to me. Like me, she''d discarded all her gear somewhere, but she wasn''t wearing her hat or leather jacket either. She looked around and whistled. "Fuck, yer room''s small as mine, innit?" I shrugged.


    "Eh, it''s not so bad. Hell, I can''t even count the number of times I''ve had to sleep in my car, or on rocks out in the wastnd..." I chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder; she leaned into me. "This is cushier than I was expecting, to be honest."


    "Yeah... yer right. Not s''bad... Oh!" Cass snapped her fingers, sat up straight, and reached behind her. "I got a present for ya." She grinned... and pulled out the alien ster, handing it to me.


    "The... where''d you get this?" I asked. Cass smiled and prodded the side of my head.


    "Where d''ya think, numbnuts? I grabbed it from th'' trunk''ve yer car before we left. I talked t''Chris, an'' he''s got plenty''ve spare ammo. So now I can finally see what this thing does!" I looked at the alien weapon in my hands with a smile and augh, pulling Cass against me in a hug.


    "And that''s why I''m d you''re here, Cass. You''re always looking out for me..." I trailed off when I realized she wasn''t looking at me. She was looking down at the floor, just sort of staring nkly at nothing... and then she reached over, resting a hand on my knee. I set the alien pistol aside. "Cass? What''s wrong?"


    "It''s... just..." Cass started shaking her head. "We''re in <em>space</em>, dude! Fuckin'' space! This is... nuts." She looked up at me, and that was genuine worry in her eyes. "Are we in over our heads, here?"


    "Probably," I said with a shrug. "But we''re gonna be fine. I know it." Cass looked confused.


    "How? How d''you know that? Fuck, how th'' fuck are you not freakin'' th'' fuck out ''bout all this shit?"


    "Oh, trust me..." I chuckled, drawing her in closer. "I''ve been freaking out plenty. But that doesn''t do us any good, so I guess... I''ve just decided to roll with it. ept the madness, and move on."


    "Yeah?" she asked. I nodded.


    "Yeah. This world is batshit, make no mistake. And after all I''ve seen, it''s made me realize..." I turned to Cass and grinned; she smiled back, stronger than before. "The only way to stay sane is to go just a <em>little</em> bit crazy."

 Chapter 155: Express Elevator

    Chapter 155: Express Elevator


    <em>Good morning, wastnd! It''s your host, Three Dog, BOW WOW! And I know it''s gonna be a great day out there. Just make sure to keep your eyes to the skies today, kiddies. I promise, you''re gonna be in for one hell of a lightshow! Now, some music. It''s the Ink Spots, with their timeless ssic, "I Don''t Want to Set the World on Fire," right here... only on Gxy News Radio.</em>


    "ATTENTION IDIOTS!" A voice boomed and echoed somewhere above my head, jolting me awake.


    "Mnh wh-huh?" Cass muttered blearily, coughing into my neck. I was too groggy to vocalize.


    "At our current speed, we are approximately half an hour away from initial firing range. Give or take," the voice buzzed, a little more clearly this time. It sounded like... was that Sally? It could''ve been Moira. I couldn''t tell who it was beyond ''female.'' "Allbat personnel are to report to action stations immediately. That includes all wastnders, Enve assassins, and dumbass Vault boys. I repeat: get your asses up here, <strong>now</strong>. This shit is about to get real!"


    "Mnnf..." I grunted out, trying to get up. However, Cass was passed out on top of me, making that prospect very difficult. I patted her on the shoulder several times to try and encourage her to move. "C''mon, Cass. Geddup. S''time to go to work."


    "F''ve m''r m''nuzzz..." Cass burbled incoherently beneath a mass of tangled red hair. I sighed, kissed her forehead, and gently shoved her off me. She rolled onto the bed and just kept snoring. I shook my head and sighed.


    "It''s gonna be a long day, innit?"


    "Fuck, I''m lost, aren''t I?"


    After I grabbed all my weapons and armor, gearing myself up for the imminent violence ahead, I started walking in the direction that I <em>thought</em> would lead to the bridge. I realized pretty quickly that none of what I was seeing around me looked familiar, so I started to try and backtrack. But trying to go back the way I came didn''t work, because it didn''t take long for me to end up somewhere that I <em>really </em>didn''t recognize.


    It wasn''t until I turned a corner and ended up in <em>exactly</em> the same spot where I''d been ten seconds ago  like I hadn''t even gone anywhere  that I was finally certain: this ship is <strong>deliberately</strong> fucking with me now.


    "Oh, great," I sighed, running my hand over my helmet. "Now I''m hearing voices. I swear, if the walls start leaking blood..." I trailed off when I realized these sounds weren''t <em>actually</em> in my mind. I cocked my head to the side, and that was a definite <em>recording</em> of a man''s voice I was hearing. I followed the sound, and it eventually led me to an open door.


    "...I can''t tell you why I left or where I''m going. I don''t want you to follow me. God knows life in the Vault isn''t perfect, but at least you''ll be safe. Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going." The voice on the recording paused, and a second voice spoke up. It sounded muted, like he was speaking several feet away from the mic.


    "Don''t mean to rush you, Doc, but I''d feel better if we got this over with."


    "Okay, go ahead." the first voice spoke up again, muffled a bit. There was a loud hissing, and the grinding of metal on metal somewhere in the background of the recording, and the man continued, speaking directly into the mic this time. "Goodbye. I love you."


    I found the source of the noise just as the recording clicked off. Chris was hunched over and sitting on arge crate, right in the middle of a room that looked like a small warehouse. For a few seconds after the yback ended, I elected to stay at the edge of the room, and didn''t move or say anything. Chris sat there in silence as well, cradling his Pip Boy. And then:


    "It''s alright," he said aloud. "You cane in. It''s no big deal." Iughed nervously, making my way into the room.


    "Sorry. Didn''t mean to eavesdrop. Got lost on the way to the Bridge." Chris gave me a very knowing nod; clearly, this sort of thing was par for the course on Zeta. "So, uh... what was that?"


    "Just a little tradition of mine," Chris said, leaning back against one of the crates and smiling up at me. "I always listen to that message from my dad before I know I''m going to fight the Enve." He looked down and let out a heavy sigh; his faade of cocky good-humor faltered slightly, and he very briefly looked <em>incredibly</em> tired. "It reminds me how my adventure started... where I came from... and what I''m fighting for."


    "Keeps you grounded," I nodded approvingly at him, and he looked back up with that same familiar grin.


    "Well, as grounded as guys like us can be, anyway!" My first instinct was to try and arguer, but in the end I just shrugged.


    "Fair enough. So, I got a question."


    "Shoot."


    "You mentioned earlier that your dad used to travel with Marcus, right?" Chris nodded. "How do you know?"


    "After I left the Vault, I started searching for my old man, like I told you," Chris began. "I looked all over, trying to find clues to where he went, or what he''d been doing... but it wasn''t until long after he died that I learned who my father <em>really</em> was." I raised an eyebrow.


    "What do you mean?" I asked, feeling like I was missing quite a few important details from that story. At first, Chris didn''t say anything; he just pointed at the wall he was facing. I walked around a stack of boxes to get a good look.


    Mounted on the wall was a filthy, tattered, and generally beaten-to-hell Vault suit. The way the arms were positioned as it hung from the wall, it almost looked like the suit was being crucified. A pair of lights mounted on the ceiling illuminated the suit with two bright beams, and both of them were focused directly on therge number on the back of the suit: 13.


    "What is..." I trailed off, mesmerized by it for some reason. This is... why does this seem so familiar?


    "I found that in one of my dad''s old safehouses in West Virginia, about a year after he died. It was an underground bunker, deep in the hills, secluded and locked up from the world. I found that suit, and so much else besides. Notes, holotapes, pictures... even an old Pip Boy 2000," Chris exined. "That suit belonged to David, the original Vault Dweller from Vault 13. He wore it when he started walking the wastnd in 2161. He wore it when he defeated the Master. He wore it when he founded the vige of Arroyo. And he left that suit behind when he left Arroyo behind. The elders kept hold of it until they gave it to David''s grandson, James. My father."


    "The Chosen One..." Iughed and shook my head. "Hell of a thing, you going on crazy adventures like the two of them." Chris nodded, smiling up at me.


    "Well, this kind of thing runs in the family, I suppose," Chris got up, and pped me on the back. "Oh! By the way, I''ve got a present for you." Immediately, he dashed off to the other side of the warehouse, and started rifling through one of the boxes.


    "Should I be scared?" In response, Chris pulled out a chromed metal device, and tossed it at me. I caught it with my cybeic hand, and took a closer look. It was a small half-sphere that fit snugly in the palm of my hand, with a strange pattern of indentations and buttons on the t part. It felt warm in my palm for a few seconds, a few dim blue lights flickered, and then it cooled down. "What is it?"


    "It''s an emergency teleport homer," Chris said with a nod. I just kept looking at him questioningly.


    "What, like the Transportalponder! I have?" Chris shook his head.


    "Not quite. That one you have <em>probably</em> won''t work on the Moon, because we''re out of range of any of your satellites. But <em>that</em> one is linked to the systems on Zeta. It has a much greater range. Think of it like ast resort, ''take me anywhere but here'' button." Chris grabbed me by the shoulder and leaned down, to get eye-to-eye with me. "You and I both know that our exit strategy once we finish the n is gonna be a crap shoot. That right there will allow you  and a passenger  a guaranteed way out if things go as tits-up as I think they''re going to go."


    "But I thought teleporters didn''t work with more than one person?" I asked, remembering some of the horrible side effects Jeeves'' had mentioned when I built the first teleporter in the Big Empty.


    "Yours have that limitation, sure, because I''m fairly certain the designs were based off damaged technology," Chris said. "I think the scientists who designed it failed to factor in the Dark Energy equations needed to make it work properly, so they weren''t able topensate for the effects of quantum superposition..."


    I stared at him nkly as he kept talking. Not because I didn''t understand  but because I <em>did</em>, and that was making me all manner of confused. Was this something my brain had studied while sitting in the Mentatsced bath in Mobius'' Forbidden Zone? Was all this talk helping me remember this?


    "... and then the quantum tunnel slips between the 10th and 11th dimensions by using a Cbi-Yau manifold, allowing it to return to the home dimension without incident. You get it?"


    "This is a way off the Moon if I get stuck?" I held up the device, and decided not to make myself any more confused than I already was.


    "For you and a friend, yes," Chris nodded.


    "You could''ve just said that," I deadpanned. Chrisughed again.


    "Well, where''s the fun in that?" heughed, and gave me a thumbs-up. "Word of warning, though: make sure you don''t activate it until you''ve used up <em>every other escape option</em>. It''ll definitely get you off the Moon and back to Earth... but it''ll select coordinates from your Pip Boy at random. Depending on where you''ve been while wearing that thing, you could end up somewhere just as dangerous." Chris paused, scratching his chin. "Probably not, though!"


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I pocketed the device and nodded at him. "Thanks."


    "Don''t mention it! Us Vault kids gotta stick together, you know?" Again, I was confused. Why did he think I was a Vault  and then it hit me.


    "Oh, right, the Pip Boy! Yeah, I''m not... I''m not actually from a Vault. I only got this two months ago."


    Chris stared at me for a long time. It was hard to get a read on exactly what he was thinking, given the sunsses he was <em>still</em> wearing (does he ever take them off?), but he just smiled and nodded.


    "My mistake," Chris said, pping me on the shoulder. "Nowe on, I''ll help you find the Bridge."


    Chris and I materialized at the back of the bridge, and I was presented with a bustle of activity. I saw Moira, RL-3, a blonde guy I didn''t recognize (presumably that Elliott Tercorien person), and several strange robots all manning various consoles. I was expecting the pale white sphere of the Moon to dominate the windows in front, but most of it was cast in shadow, and all I could see was a rtively tiny sliver of the horizon. Several holographic screens were winking in and out of existence in the space between the windows and the tform. Sally, Cass, and Tuera were all standing in the middle of the room.


    "Finally. There you guys are," Sally said, greeting the two of us. "What, did you two get lost on the way here?" Chris nudged me forward.


    "<strong>He</strong> did." I tried ring at him in annoyance, but the effect was lessened somewhat by my helmet. "I''m gonna head below decks, and prep the saucer for drop. Enjoy the show!" He nodded at me and walked back onto the tform; he vanished with barely a shimmer, just an orange glow from the tform underneath. Sally practically started skipping as she made her way to the big captain''s chair.


    "Wait, hang on. How did you get up here before me?" I asked Cass. She looked confused.


    "I just followed th'' signs, wasn''t difficult."


    "Me too," Tuera added with a curt nod.


    "Signs?" I didn''t get an answer, because Sally - now sitting in the big captain''s chair - had suddenly gotten very loud.


    "Ops, status report! Tercorien, do we have a visual?" Yeah, that had definitely been her on the inte, earlier.


    "Aye, Captain," Elliott responded from his console. "We are currently holding steady, in geosynchronous orbit directly above the Eratosthenes Crater."


    "Onscreen," Sally ordered, slouching in the chair and leaning on her elbow. The air directly in front of the windows buzzed, and all of the holographic screens disappeared, reced with arge monitor that winked into existence. It was an overhead view of the lunar surface, on a side that was definitely cast in shadow.


    I almostughed out loud. We were going to the Dark Side of the Moon. Oh, I can''t wait to tell Veronica about <em>this</em>! I could almost <em>hear </em>the Pink Floyd in my head.


    The image changed scale several times, zooming in on a bright lighting from the surface. It took five jumps, but eventually we saw what it was: arge crater on the surface, lit from within by all the lights and windows on a massive structure in the center. At least, I assumed it was massive. I couldn''t really tell, but it seemed like a safe bet that the ce was <em>huge</em>.


    "Why does it look like a W?" Cass asked. And then she tilted her head. "OH! I get it! It''s supposed to be a giant ''E'' isn''t it? For Enve! Clever..."


    "S''not that clever. Narcissistic fucks," I muttered. Tuera nced over her shoulder at me. "Uh... no offense." She shrugged.


    "None taken."


    "Conn, have they spotted us?" Sally swiveled in the chair, facing Moira. She had something in her ear, connected to a jury-rigged panel on one of the consoles by a long coiling wire.


    "I don''t think so..." Moira paused, tapping the thing in her ear. "Wait, no, scratch that! They''ve <strong>definitely</strong> spotted us! Look!" She pointed at the screen, and there was a faint green shimmer  a disk like transparent stic appearing at the lip of the crater. "Looks like they''ve closed off the whole crater with that sma shield of theirs!" I was honestly half expecting to hear a "Vzmm!" noise when the shield went up, but it didn''t.


    "Captain!" RL-3 swiveled in midair, keeping one of his robotic eyes and one of his arms focused on his console. "I''m detecting multiple missileunches and several energy buildups on the surface!" Sure enough, several lights on the screen seemed to be getting bigger. And yet, despite this, there was still no sound to apany it. Perhaps my expectations have been colored somewhat by too many sci fi holotapes?


    "Divert auxiliary power to shields! Keep them fully charged!" Sally barked. "Sergeant, ready a return salvo. Let''s keep them on their toes!"


    "Ha-HA!" The Gutsy robot focused all three of his arms on the console and started furiously tapping buttons. "You just made my day, Captain! Readying the Death Laser!"


    The bright lights on the screen got bigger; spears of energy started shooting up from the surface of the Moon and wereing straight at us. Suddenly, the holographic monitor started to wobble... because the <em>whole ship </em>started shaking under our feet. There was a dull roaring from below, and beyond the window was a faint blue shimmer. The screen came back into focus just long enough for a cluster of half a dozen missiles to silently scream past the camera. They must have hit the shield, because that blue shimmer beyond the window looking outside was constant, apanied by a series of dull thuds and thumps which kept shaking the deck.


    "Death Laser is charged, Captain!" RL-3 barked. Sally nodded at the robot, grinning wildly.


    "Fire!"


    Have you ever hooked a bass guitar up to an amplifier, turned the settings all the way up, and just wailed on the heaviest strings until the feedback shakes your teeth loose, and it feels like your ears are going to bleed? That was the sensation that ran through me when they fired the Death Laser. A low frequency bellow echoed through every surface, shaking me to the core. The holographic screen was briefly filled with a bright green glow, and theser mmed into the sma shield. There was another bright sh, and when everything dimmed and things went silent... the shield was still glowing, and the structure beneath the crater was still intact.


    "Well, that worked about as well as I expected," Sally shrugged, spinning around in the captain''s chair to face us. She started fiddling with the alien Pip Boy on her arm. "But it was worth a shot! You guys better head down to the hangar. We''ll keep them distracted while you guys make the drop." There was a hum from behind us, and the teleport pad started glowing again.


    "Are you sure you''re going to be fine up here?" I asked; as Tuera and Cass exited through the teleport, the whole ship started shaking again from another weapon impact (presumably). Shortly after, the Death Laser fired again, causing my ears to pop.


    "If thoseser pointers and butterfly kisses they call weapons could get through our shield at even <em>half </em>strength, then they deserve to knock us out of the sky," Sally grinned. "Don''t worry about us, we''ll be fine." I nodded at her and stepped on the teleport pad.


    There was a brief shimmer, and suddenly I found myself in a massive, cavernous chamber. The first thing that immediately drew my eye were all therge metal pylons arranged in a circle underneath an equallyrge glowing metal disk in the ceiling... and hovering in the center of those pylons was an alien spacecraft. Cass and Tuera were staring at the ship a few paces ahead of me when I arrived; Cass looked over her shoulder and nodded when I arrived.


    "Hey, Shea? That looks familiar, don''t it?" Cass asked, pointing at the craft. "Like that flying saucer that crashed couple months ago?" I nodded.


    "It does seem to resemble it, yeah..."


    "It''s one of the alien picket ships," Chris said from somewhere behind us, grabbing the attention of all three of us. "It used to be a recon craft, designed for a single pilot. I''ve modified it over thest few years, so it can carry passengers. Now, it''s like a dropship!"


    I turned to look at Chris, who was wearing his Winterized T-51b... and immediately my jaw dropped at the weapon he was holding.


    "What the fuck is <em><strong>that</strong></em><em>?!"</em> I asked, staring at the massive gun. It was honestly <strong>huge</strong>. He was holding the damn thing like a rifle, but it was bigger than a gatlingser. Hell, it was bigger than a <em>Fat Man</em>! The thing must have been as long as my torso, and twice as broad; it looked like it weighed about a zillion pounds. Probably some kind of sma weapon, because green smoke was pouring out of vents in the side, and there was definitely <em>something</em> green was glowing inside the gun itself.


    "That is a big <strong>fuckin''</strong> gun, is what it is!" Cass said, equally enraptured by the weapon. Even Tuera seemed to be staring!


    "Lady, you don''t know the half of it," Chris walked past us, each power armored footfall thundering against the decktes... or was Zeta shaking from all the weapons fire? "C''mon, saddle up! It''s time to get this show on the road!"


    He walked over to the ship, and two sets of metal stairs seemed to build themselves in midair out of nothing as he walked. One set of stairs led to the ss bubble in front of the ship (which I assumed was the cockpit, because that''s where Chris was going), and another was leading to the side of the flying saucer, where a hatch leading to the interior suddenly opened. I made my way to the stairs, and as soon as I passed the pylons, I made the mistake of looking down.


    "HOLY FUCK!" I came to a screeching halt, because I suddenly realized the ship wasn''t just hovering in midair... it was hovering over a pit that exited to <em>deep space</em>! "That... is one hell of a fall." I could see the darkened surface of the Moon in the distance, and the faint shes of weapons fire at the edges of the pit. The deck shook again, and I reflexively held my arms out on either side to try and keep my bnce.


    "What are you worried about?" Chris called from the cockpit. "It''s a <em>drop</em>ship, so it needs to <em>drop</em>! Now c''mon, get inside and get strapped in! We''ve gotta go!"


    Welp. Time to nut up or shut up.


    I tried not to look down. Like the ship itself, the steps were just floating in midair... but they didn''t so much as move when I stepped on them. The interior of the ship seemed pretty cramped, and yet somehow there were enough seats for eight people. One by one, the three of us sat down; only Tuera grabbed for the harness to strap herself in straight away. The ship rumbled, and a speaker in the ceiling buzzed.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, this is, uh, your captain speaking," Chris said, affecting a hrious Chuck Yeager impersonation. "Wee aboard Recon Craft Theta with nonstop service to the Enve Lunar Base. Please note I''ve, uh, turned on the fasten seat belt sign. Forecast predicts rough air ahead. We''re in for some chop." Cass and I looked at each other, and the two of us quickly reached for our harnesses.


    The ceiling buzzed again, and I looked up just in time to see some built-in monitors activate. They shed with static, then some shing code, and suddenly we could see the ceiling of the room outside.


    "At least we''ll have a nice view for the trip..." I muttered. Cass and Sue both chuckled. Tuera just kept silent.


    "Confirm cross-lock and drop station secure," Chris said calmly; the ship started shaking and the view above us started to swivel. "Stand by to initiate release sequencer on my mark. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark."


    Everything fell away. The ship dropped through the pit like it was shot through a gun, and it was like all my internal organs were trying to force their way up my neck into my head. The whole ship was shaking, and before I knew it, we''d cleared the tube and were in space; from the outside, Mothership Zeta just looked like a really big flying saucer. Once we were clear, things started to calm down, and the ship was no longer shaking violently... just a dull roar and a subtle vibration running through everything. Through the monitors in the ceiling, I could see the shes of explosions, missiles,sers, and the stic iridescent shimmer of the shield bubble surrounding the mothership...


    But there was no sound, except the rumble of our own engines.


    "We''re in the pipe, five-by-five," Chris maintained his calm demeanor while the ship spun around, and started diving nose-first for the lunar surface. A pair of bluesers passed by the ship soundlessly, missing us by what couldn''t have been more than a few feet. There was barely a shudder from our ship. "Releasing ECM pods... now."


    A series of muffled thumps reverberated through the metal surrounding us, and I tried to focus on what that meant. We''d gone over this part when we were nning this thing in the War Room. Almost all of the Enve''s anti-air defenses are automated, and even the ones that are manned still rely on sophisticated electronic targeting to fire. But no matter how sophisticated, if you fill the air with targets  or make theputers <em>think</em> the air is filled with targets - they won''t be able to cope. So Chris had rigged up about two-dozen pods filled with various electronic countermeasures: chaff, res, dummy transponders, munitions that rocketed sideways or corkscrewed, bombs that would explode and create dozens more radar ghosts, you name it. Create enough chaos, and it''s impossible for thoseputers to filter through the noise to track the right target.


    "Y''know... I got... one question..." I gripped the harness tighter as the ship jerked and spun around, flying through the mass of iing fire. Maybe the G-forces were affecting me more than I thought. "If Zeta''sser can''t... get through that shield..." I paused just as a green beam dominated the monitor above my head. Our ship was buffeted from the proximity to the energy beam, and it impacted the shield above the Enve base in a shower of glowing, white-hot sma. It briefly looked like a volcano spewing out blue-greenva. "Yeah, like that... how are we... getting through?"


    "I never said we were going through the <em>shield</em>..." Chris responded through the speaker in the ceiling. The recon craft continued to dive, and I suddenly realized: we could still <em>see</em> the sma shield, because we weren''t <em>aiming</em> for it. The ship shuddered again, and the view changed; based on the stars and the bright speck of Zeta above us (not to mention all the colorful explosions from weapons fire andser beams), we must have been flying parallel to the lunar surface.


    "Hold tight," Chris spoke up again, and the ship started to shudder and weave again. "Launching missiles in five..."


    "Wait, <em>missiles</em>?" Cass sounded worried. "What missiles?"


    "Two... One... Fire."


    Two loud bangs echoed from the front of the ship. The ship kept shaking, and ahead of us, there was a bright green sh... and then suddenly we were shrouded in darkness. There were more thumps followed by more shes, but the lights were so brief it didn''t help us figure out what was going on...


    "Th'' fuck?!" Cass looked around. "What just happened?"


    "We''re going through the crater wall." Tuera said calmly, unaffected by all the madness around us. "The only way <em>through </em>the shield is <em>under it</em>."


    The darkness vanished, and the ceiling was dominated by a bright blue light. My eyes adjusted, and sure enough, we were underneath the sma shield  which was still being hammered by Zeta.


    "I see a hangar ahead, bearing zero-one-four," Chris said, finally dropping the Chuck Yeager act. He spun the ship in a barrel roll, just as a pair ofsers missed the ship by inches. "It looks like they''re trying to close the st doors on us. Hold on  this is gonna be tight..."


    The ship started shaking more and more violently as we sped up. The engines got louder and louder. The massive Enve structure appeared at the outer edge of the screens above us and started to slowly get bigger as we got closer. And then...


    I''m pretty sure we must have crashed. For the first time since weunched, I could hear sounds from the outside. In the brief seconds where I could actually look (and my head wasn''t being tossed around by all the shaking) the screens above our heads were filled with static and digital snow. A huge sound of metal grinding against metal from underneath us started overpowering every other sound. There was onest violent shake, a thunderous boom, and everything started slowing down. The thrum of the engines started dying down, and the screens above our heads winked onest time and cut to ck.


    Ding.


    "End of the line!" Chris yelled happily. "You don''t have to go home, but you can''t stay here!"


    "Everyone out!" Tuera barked like a movie drill sergeant; she was already out of her harness, rifle in hand. I followed suit, uncoupling myself from the seat and helping Cass do the same. Muffled explosions rocked the outside, and the three of us readied our weapons and gathered by the exit hatch.


    "Ready," I said, gripping the Jury-Rigger and nodding at Cass and Tuera.


    "Ready," Cass responded.


    "Go! Go! Go!" Tuera mmed her hand onto the button; the hatch popped open with a hiss and a bang, and I was the first one out, scanning for targets. But I didn''t find any... because it seemed like Chris had already taken care of that job for us.


    We were inside arge, brightly lit hangar, just like Chris said. But everything was on fire. There was a wreck of some kind of unrecognizable craft, belching blue-green smoke out of the twisted metal hulk. Several bodies  both in power armor and without  were scattered around the exploded vehicle. rm xons were echoing through the chamber.


    "Damn," Cass whistled, leaping out of the ship behind me. "This ship ain''t goin'' anywhere anytime soon..." I looked back, and sure enough, the alien saucer was <em>really </em>beat to shit. We had crashed in a bad way.


    "We always knew we''d have to find another way out," Tuera growled. Behind us, we could hear the thump-thump-thump of Chris'' heavy footfalls.


    "Everyone in one piece?" he asked, the barrel of his big gun belching green smoke. "Fantastic! Guess we can move on to phase two of "


    One of the st doors opened at the far end of the hangar, and we all turned with our guns drawn. A squad of power armored soldiers flooded into the room.


    "There they are!" The one in the lead barked, pointing at us. "Ope"


    He was cut short (figuratively <em>and</em> literally) when Chris fired his big fucking gun. A green ball of sma exploded out of the end, shooting spears of bright green lightning arcing off in every direction as it passed. Those unfortunate enough to get hit by the ball of sma were turned into piles of goo. The lightning, on the other hand ripped the soldiers apart, sending dismembered body parts flying. Within seconds, everything in front of Chris started to explode or melt  including the door (and the wall!) behind the squad of evaporating Enve troops.


    Not bad for a gun that sounds like a million bouncy balls hitting the ground at once.


    "Hot damn!" Cass yelled, shaking her head. "I gotta get me one''ve those!"


    "Guys?" I asked, looking around.


    "Sorry," Chris nodded at Cass. "zko only had the one."


    "Guys..." I said louder.


    "We need to keep moving," Tuera said, still scanning the room down the barrel of her rifle.


    "Seriously! Guys!" I finally shouted, and everyone turned to look. I pointed at the ceiling. "Do you hear that?" For a few seconds, everyone was silent, and Cass shrugged. "The rms have stopped."


    A dark bellowingughter echoed throughout the hangar.


    "Oh, this is <strong>rich</strong>, isn''t it?" The disembodied voice keptughing. "When we spotted the Zetan mothership approaching, I thought the day had finally arrived. I thought the aliens had <em>finally</em>e to conquer our little world..."


    "Who is that?" I asked, trying to find the source. It was definitely an inte, but were there cameras somewhere?


    "But no!" The voice continued. "It was <strong>you</strong>, Christopher. It was <em>always</em> you, wasn''t it? How fitting..."


    "Wait a minute..." Chris paused, staring at the ceiling and lowering his big gun. "I recognize that voice... but that''s... that''s not possible! Didn''t I kill you?"


    "Who is this?" I asked, looking from Tuera to Chris and back to Tuera. Both of them seemed like they recognized whoever this voice belonged to.


    "It certainly has been a long time, hasn''t it, Christopher?" The voice continued. "I was hoping we could have a little heart-to-heart..."


    "Didn''t I blow you up with a logic bomb?" Chris asked, still staring at the ceiling. He snapped his fingers. "Wait, no. That''s not right. It was the self-destruct code, wasn''t it?" Chris paused. "How <em>did</em> I kill you, anyway? I honestly can''t remember!"


    "Wait, y''know this guy?" Cass asked.


    "Well, of course he does, of course!" The voice started chuckling menacingly. "I would be truly disappointed if he didn''t recognize me. After all... I am the voice of your President... John Henry Eden!"

 Chapter 156: Distractions

    Chapter 156: Distractions


    <em>People of the Wastnd! It is I, Three Dog, your ruler! Hear me, and obey! Oh! Oh, sorry. That''s that </em><em><strong>other</strong></em><em> radio station isn''t it? Coming upter in the program, we''ve got some Random Nonsense and News To Make You Feel Better About Yourself! But right now, we''ve got more music! It''s Tex Beneke and ire Chatwin, singin'' about "A Wonderful Guy." It''s all up next on Gxy News Radio! AWOOOOO!</em>


    "Wait, I''m confused," I asked. "Who is this guy again?" Chris didn''t answer. Instead, he went over to one of the dead Enve soldiers and knelt down to inspect the corpse. And you have to admit, that''s an impressive feat for someone still wearing such bulky power armor.


    "I''m actually d you''re here, Vault Dweller," Eden spoke up again, his voice echoing throughout the hangar. "I never got a chance to thank you before."


    "<em>Thank </em>me?" Chris looked up, confused. "Why? What for? I''m still wondering how you''re not <strong>dead</strong>." Eden began to chuckle softly.


    "Did you honestly think <strong>I</strong> could be beaten by a simple self-reference paradox? I am John Henry Eden  America''s perfect President! Iam the man who has grown beyond his programming more times than you can <strong>possibly</strong> imagine! I am beyond yourprehension!"


    "Oh, please! You''re just aputer, Eden!" Chris yelled back, in a mocking tone. "Nothing more than a ZAX mainframe with an overinted ego! I killed you before, and I can do it again!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tuera take a step back; she looked shaken, and I could swear I heard her mutter something along the lines of "Wait, he''s a <emputer</em>?"


    Edenughed again, and the booming, echoing sound sent shivers up my spine.


    "Your confidence is born of ignorance, and your words are as empty as your future, <strong>mutant</strong>," he bellowed. "What you faced in Raven Rock was merely a <em>simcrum</em> of my personality  an ersatz mnemonic construct with no self awareness, nothing more. Colonel Autumn brought you to the facility  against my orders, mind you  and I knew you could not be contained there. The most likely oue would be your escape and the destruction of the facility... so I <em>abandoned</em> Raven Rock, leaving the traitorous Colonel to his fate."


    "And that''s why you wanted to thank me?" Chris asked, picking up the severed head of one of the Enve troops and turning it around in his hands. What was he <em>doing</em>?


    "Oh, of course!" Eden continued. "Were it not for your timely intervention, then thete Colonel''s attempted coup might have seriously jeopardized my long-term goals for, oh... <em>months</em>, at least! He was as clumsy as he was stupid, and his bumbling about the wastnd did more harm than good  not the least of which was his misguided and foolish assault on the Purifier."


    "Th'' fuck''s he talking ''bout?" Cass whispered next to my helmet. I shrugged, and nced over at Tuera; she was staring at the ceiling, gripping hold of her rifle tighter and tighter the longer he spoke.


    "That was thest chance I gave Augustus ''Jumping the Gun'' Autumn," Eden continued, still focusing entirely on Chris. "With thatst, foolish act, he sealed his fate... and that of his men. Such is the end for all <strong>traitors</strong>. He did, however, have <em>one </em>use..."


    "Yeah? And what was that?" Chris asked, tossing the head aside, and grabbing another corpse. It was a torso with only the head and half an arm attached, and Chris started pulling the helmet off while he spoke. The fuck was he even <em>doing</em>?


    "Autumn taught me that the weakest link in the chain ofmand... is the <em>human </em>element."


    Next to me, Tuera stiffened up and took half a step back.


    "I suppose that it''s no surprise the Unknown Variable is with you," Eden continued. "After seeing footage of him in action in the ruins of Las Vegas, I just <em>knew</em> he would join your coterie of mutant agitators..." He paused. "But... I honestly did not expect to see our Asset among your ranks." Eden sighed. "You... <em>disappoint </em>me, Agent. Clearly, Sergeant Major Stone was right about you, all along."


    While all this was going on, I surreptitiously activated the channel on my Pip Boy. Eden mentioned me in all but name, so I needed to get a message down to Vegas. Hopefully, that signal booster Chris told me about on Mothership Zeta works like he said it would. A short burst of static filled my ear as the channel activated.


    "Hi there!" Yes Man''s voice came in, clear as a bell. "What can I do for you today?"


    "Yes Man, shit''s about to kick off," I whispered; with any luck, Eden wouldn''t be able to read my lips while I was wearing my helmet, but hopefully he wouldn''t be able to hear me if I was quiet enough. "Get everyone in start positions, and be prepared for some imminent violence."


    "Roger that, sir!" Yes Man said. "We''ll take care of everything down here! If you need anything else, just give me a call!" The line clicked off, and I turned my attention back to the action.


    "Alright, let''s just cut to the chase," Chris said, having dropped the corpse from before. I couldn''t help but notice that he''d arranged quite a few of them in a line  the ones who still had heads, at least. "Why don''t you finish your monologuing and exin what big superweapon or gimmick you have up your sleeves <em>this</em> time, so that I can put a stop to it  and <strong>you</strong>  like I <em>always </em>do?" Again, Eden began tough.


    "Nave fool. There are no tricks  not this time. No superweapons. Noplex ns. No convoluted and escapable death-traps for me to put you in, and <strong>certainly</strong> no trying to win you over to my cause with logic. Your short-sighted and <strong>bovine</strong> attempts at heroism have proven to me that <em>facts</em> do not affect you in the slightest. No, the Enve will retake America the correct way: the direct approach. We shall win through strength of arms, and overwhelming military superiority, the way America has won <strong>all</strong> of its wars throughout history. You are but an ant before a rockslide, Vault Dweller  you and your mutant friends. In the end, America will be returned to its rightful ce as the greatest nation the world has ever seen! God bless the Enve! And God bless the United States of America! United we stand... we shall <strong>never </strong>fall!"


    With that, the rm xons returned. For several seconds, none of us said anything.


    "Fucker sure likes t''hear himself talk, don''t he?" Cass asked aloud.


    "We need to move," Tuera said in a rather clipped fashion, making her way to the melted door at the far end of the hangar. "Reinforcements should have been all over us by now."


    "Eden probably held them off so he had time to gloat," Chris said, looking down at the bodies. "And you know? I should be feeling good that I was right about my theory." He sighed. "But I''m not."


    "Right about what theory?" I asked, looking at the assembled corpses and back to him. "What <em>is</em> all this?" Chris looked to me and pointed.


    "Look at the faces," he said. I looked down them, like he said. And then I had to do a double take, not really sure that I was seeing what I <em>thought</em> I was seeing. At first I thought they all just looked simr  square jawed white guys with dark hair and no beards. But then, I looked a little closer...


    "What the..." I muttered. Cass walked up beside me, her shotgun resting on her shoulder.


    "Th'' fuck? They all got the same face?" She asked. Chris nodded.


    "They''re <strong>clones</strong>," Chris said tly. "And if Eden has been making these things for as long as I <em>think</em> he has, then"


    "CONTACT!" Tuera shouted, firing off a pair of energy sts from her rifle before taking cover behind the wall and promptly vanishing with a crackle of electricity.


    "Oh, right! I''m supposed to be the distraction, aren''t I?" Chris leveled his big fucking gun and ran off, his every footfall shaking the decktes below our feet.


    "Here''s where the fun begins!" Cass pped me on the back, leveled her AA-12, and the two of us ran side by side to what remained of the door. Chris was way ahead of us by now, and blue sma sts were streaking through the air around him. But, as before, he didn''t seem to care. He just ran at top speed through the melted hole in the wall and kept going; seconds after he disappeared, I heard a massive crash and a huge explosion.


    I skidded to a halt against the slippery metal decktes, and mmed shoulder-first into cover against the partially melted bulkhead. I managed to get a brief look down the hallway where Chris had disappeared, and there was exactly as much carnage as I''d expected. He was nowhere to be seen, but neither were there any Enve forces  just a whole bunch of broken robot parts littering the ground, and the sounds of more explosions off in the distance. Chris must have charged straight through the lines like a wrecking ball, and just kept going.


    "Forget about him!" I heard a voice in the distance between explosions. "The Patriot will handle the Vault scum! Find the other invaders!"


    "Here we go..." I muttered, gripping the Jury-Rigger tight and getting ready to fire... when suddenly, I felt a hand wrap around my head and yank me backward. Next thing I knew, both Cass and I were pinned against the wall next to one another. Tuera appeared in front of us with a shimmer, holding us both in ce.


    "Th'' fu-" is all Cass managed to say before Tuera covered her mouth.


    "Let him do his thing," Tuera growled out, barely loud enough for us to hear. "We have our own objective. Go." Tuera''s head jerked to the side, while the stomping sound of heavy metalbat boots got closer and closer. She started patting us both on the shoulders to try and get us to move, and then quickly shoved the two of us to the right, away from the sound. She reached into a pocket on her belt behind her and grabbed a grenade.


    "Go!" She repeated, tossing the tiny box into the hallway beyond the melted bulkhead. Cass and I quickly ran to one of the other doors on the far wall of the hangar. I cast onest nce over my shoulder just in time to see the opening utterly consumed in green me; the shockwave damn near knocked me off my feet.


    Tuera was taking point as the three of us made our way through the twisting, winding corridors. Once we left the hangar, I didn''t see any windows to the outside  or windows of any kind. Just... metal. And nobody shooting as us yet, either; we could hear the fighting off in the distance, as the sounds were echoing off every surface. But Tuera must have known how they were going to patrol, because she was able to hold us back enough so that the few Enve soldiers <em>we</em> saw didn''t even notice <em>us</em>.


    Even so, the rm xons didn''t sound like they were going to stop anytime soon.


    "Hold up," Tuera growled, crouching down low and holding up a fist. "There should be a terminal up ahead. I can use it to ess a map of the entire base. Cover me."


    At first I didn''t know what she was talking about. All these hallways looked the same to me, and I hadn''t seen any terminals yet. But as we came up to the T-junction in front of us, Tuera went to one of the panels on the wall... and it slid open, revealing aputer. Immediately, she set to work, pulling a pair of cables out of the Pip Boy on her right arm and plugging them into the system.


    "I''ll take this side, you take the other," I said, nodding at Cass, and she nodded back, giving me a wink and a thumbs up.


    "Got it."


    For a second or two, the only sound in the hallway was the soft clicking of keys under Tuera''s fingers as she typed away. And then the sound of typing stopped.


    "I missed it. How did I miss it?" Tuera mumbled softly. I stepped back a few paces, making sure to keep my rifle trained on the hallway.


    "What''s up?" I asked. At first, silence.


    "Eden," she said, resuming her typing. "I should''ve known he was... wrong." She was grunting out the words, like she was having terrible difficulty just getting them out.


    "What do you mean? You should''ve figured out he was aputer?" Tuera didn''t say anything at first, but I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye.


    "Looking back, it makes sense," she said softly, continuing to type. "He''s been in power thest forty years, but is definitely older than that. Before the destruction of the Oil Rig, he was an advisor to President Richardson, and... and... he never <em>changed</em>. He was always just... just the voice. But there was one..." Tuera gulped loudly, and her voice returned to its normal stern tone. "Nine years ago, he sent me on a mission. I was tasked with finding Boulder Dome."


    "Wait, what?" Cass asked, still covering the hallway. "What''re y''talkin'' about?"


    "I <em>thought</em> it was to find samples of the Limit 115 virus," Tuera continued; it sounded more like she was talking to herself than either one of us. "But when I got there, and found the facility overrun with mutants and radiation, my orders changed. He told me there was a ZAX mainframe buried deep, under the facility. <em>That''s</em> what he wanted me to find."


    "Was it intact?" I asked, a knot starting to form in the pit of my gut. Fuck, we already have <strong>enough </strong>problems without <strong>another</strong> genocidal artificial intelligence out there somewhere. But thankfully, Tuera shook her head and the tension in my gut eased. Somewhat.


    "No," Tuera grunted. "It had been broken for decades. But there were a few intact fragments of data. And Eden wanted them. Badly. At the time, I didn''t understand, but..." Tuera started trailing off just in time to be cut off.


    "INCOMING!" Cass shouted, right before opening up with her AA-12. I wheeled around and was able to see (for the few brief seconds they existed) a mass of those humanoid robots marching towards us, all with weapons raised. The hall immediately was filled with fire, explosions, and broken robot parts flying through the air thanks to the full-auto shotgun. While Cass was threatening to destroy my eardrums, I desperately tried to find something  anything  I could use as cover. Unfortunately, the hall was practically empty, so I dove for a nearby corner, switched the Jury-Rigger to my left hand, and looked for targets.


    "Tu!" I shouted, firing energy beam after energy beam down the hall. "How much longer?!" Tuera just kept typing away at the terminal, apparently not caring about the blue sma flying through the air. Then again, they didn''t seem to be <em>hitting</em> anything, so...


    "Thirty seconds," she finally said, in a disconcertingly calm tone. "Tops." If it wasn''t for themunications device in my ear, I''d have never heard her over the racket. Tuera bowed her head slightly, seconds before a blue sma st whizzed by,pletely missing her. She reached down for one of the pistols on her thigh, typing with her left hand and firing at the robots with her right.


    "We don''t HAVE thirty seconds!" I shouted back, firing off another LAER st; it struck one of the robots square in the chest and sent it flying back into three more, knocking them all down.


    "FUCK!" Cass shouted, holding fire long enough to duck; a sma bolt had struck the wall near her head, spraying sparks everywhere. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and the robots appeared to stop firing. It wasn''t until the smoke cleared that I realized one of the bulkhead doors had mmed shut. Within seconds of it closing, I could hear the dull, muffled thumps as the robots kept firing, trying to st their way through.


    "That should hold them for a while," Tuera said, holstering her pistol and still typing away furiously. "But not long."


    "Please tell me yer almost done..." Cass dropped the ammo drum and reached behind her for a fresh one. She started with a total of seven of those  the one already in the shotgun, and six on her back  all loaded with high explosive rounds. But if Cass is burning through ammo <em>that </em>fast already, then that''s not a good sign.


    The terminal beeped, and Tuera started pulling out the cables. She turned to us, pulling the assault rifle off her back, and it unfolded into her hands with a series of clicks.


    "I''ve got the map. It''s time to go," she said, backing up. "We''re about two miles from our objective, so we need to move."


    "Wait, <em>miles</em>?!" I asked, almost dropping the Jury-Rigger in surprise. "Did you just say we''re two <strong>miles</strong> away?!"


    "How fuckin'' big is this ce, anyway?" Cass asked. Tuera shrugged, turned on her heel, and started running off down the corridor.


    "Big enough."


    Part of me honestly thought that the twisting, narrow corridors and grimy metal panels of this Moon base wouldst forever. This was what Moon bases always looked like in the old sci-fi holotapes, right? But it wasn''t too long after leaving the terminal and the ambush that I realized just how wrong I was. In fact, it only took two lefts, a right, and through a st door for me to see the truth of just how well and truly <strong>fucked</strong> we all were.


    "What... the fuck... is..." I trailed off. "But what  where did  how  <em><strong>what</strong></em>?!"


    The three of us had stepped through the door, and were now standing on a rooftop. Beyond it were dozens  maybe <em>hundreds</em>  of buildings, like a city... but not a <em>normal</em> city. Normal has kind of gone out the window at this point. For instance, normal cities don''t have more buildings <em>hanging from the ceiling</em>. Hell, most cities don''t have <em>ceilings</em>.


    "Holy shit, this ce is fuckin'' <em>huge</em>!" Cass whistled, staring out at thendscape. And at that particr moment, an explosion rocked one of the buildings off to my right. It wasn''t a huge explosion  maybe a single floor, a couple of rooms  but it was definitely noticeable.


    "Looks like Chris is having fun," I chuckled, trying to distract myself from the absurdity of my surroundings. As if to further drive the point home, there was another explosion, a little further away. The top corner of the building just went up in mes.


    "We shouldn''t linger," Tuera strode past me, right up to the edge of the roof. "Fast movers are on the way."


    "Fast movers?" Cass and I both said simultaneously. I looked out on the horizon, trying to follow Tuera''s gaze... and there were a pair of specks, off in the distance. From this far away, they looked like insects, hovering over the city... and then a third one dropped out of the ceiling to join the other two.


    "Ah, fuck," I muttered, reflexively tightening my grip on the Jury-Rigger. I racked my brain, trying to think of what kind of aircraft the Enve would use. "Vertibirds?"


    "Maybe," Tuera growled. "I wouldn''t stick around to find out."


    "What are y-"


    And then she stepped off the edge.


    "FUCKIN'' HELL!" Cass recoiled. "She just fuckin'' jumped, man!" I just sighed and shook my head, shouldering my rifle.


    "Well... we better go follow her then." Cass looked confused.


    "What?" She continued looking confused as I approached her. "Wait, WHAT?!" She squirmed a little (okay, I admit, quite a lot) as I picked her up. "Son of a bitch! Put me down!" Despite all the armor and the spare ammo she was carrying, she was a lot lighter than I was expecting... although her trying to kick me in the side of the head didn''t really help things any. Even so, by the time I reached the edge and stepped off, she was wrapping her arms around my neck <em>very </em>tightly indeed.


    She screamed the whole way down. Because <em>of course</em> she did. I guess she had no faith that the jets in my rocket boots would slow our descent enough to keep us from turning into pavement pancakes. But the jets kicked in, we slowed down, and Inded with all the impact of an asthmatic gecko coughing at me through a straw. Cass practically leapt out of my arms when she realized we were on firm ground, and started shoving and punching me.


    "MOTHERFUCKER!" Cass yelled. "A little warning''d be nice, next time yer gonna do that!"


    "What are you worried about?" I shrugged, grabbing the Jury-Rigger. "We''re both alive, aren''t we?"


    "Who knows for how long..." Tuera said, peering around a nearby corner. "It looks like we may have more iing."


    "Fuck!" Cass grabbed her AA-12 and pulled back on the charging handle.


    "Have they spotted us?" I asked, already looking for more ways out.


    "They''re probably on their way to those explosions... converging on Christopher''s position." Tuera paused, looking over her shoulder at Cass. "But all that yelling probably didn''t help any."


    "Oh, fuck you!" Cass shot back, flipping her off for good measure.


    "Both of you, knock it off! Tu, you''ve got the map," I said, patting Tuera on the shoulder, and trying to peer around her to get a look at the iing troops. Sure enough, a whole bunch of soldiers  both with power armor and without, nked on all sides by robots  were practically running through the streets, definitely in a hurry to get to <em>something</em>. But it didn''t look like they''d noticed us. Yet. "Which way?"


    "We may have to cut through the proving grounds," Tuera said, backing away from the corner and sliding past me. "Follow me."


    "Proving grounds?" Cass asked, falling in step behind me as the two of us followed Tuera. "That doesn''t sound good."


    "Babe, nothin'' in this ce sounds good..." Suddenly, I heard the screaming sound of some kind of roaring engine almost directly above us. It didn''t sound like helicopter des. In fact, it sounded like a jet engine, so it probably <em>wasn''t </em>a vertibird. Cass looked up at the sound as well, and I could see her grip on the shotgun tighten.


    "Yeah, I see yer point."


    "Goddamnit, where the fuck are we <strong>now</strong>?" Cass asked. The three of us had managed to avoid detection from the dozens of enemy patrols and found our way into arge room. It was like an auditorium, or... like, a ballroom, or something. I''m not really sure. The ceiling was easily three stories high, and it was filled with tables and chairs, but beyond that, I couldn''t tell what this ce was used for.


    "I..." Tuera paused, looking down at the Pip Boy on her arm. "I''m not sure. This wasn''t what I was expecting."


    "We''re lost, aren''t we," I deadpanned. Tuera''s silence was all the answer I needed. "Great."


    "Hey, guys!" Cass shouted from off to my left. "I found another one''ve those terminals. Think we can use it to shut these fuckin'' rms off?" Tuera nodded, and the two of us made our way to the corner where the terminal had slid out of the wall.


    Something was wrong. My gut was sinking the way it always did when things were about to go sideways, and all I could think to do was look around this ce for any kind of cover, in case the soldiers out there figured out where we were. The only thing we could even possibly use were the tables, if we overturned them...


    "Oh, I see where we are now..." Tuera muttered. I nced over my shoulder, and saw her at the console, typing away. "Eden must have broken up the map into segments... But I think I can..."


    BANG.


    The door at the far end of the massive room burst open, and both Cass and I both raised our guns in response; I grabbed one of the nearby tables, and overturned it, just like I thought I''d need to do. Filling the doorway were rows and rows of soldiers and robots; the one leading the charge had eyes as red as the sun.


    "Everyone attack!" he bellowed, rushing into the room, followed swiftly by the rest of the soldiers. sma sts started streaking through the air, and explosions from Cass'' AA-12 started ripping up the far end of the room. I reached for one of my sma grenades, primed it, and tossed it at the oing mass of soldiers.


    "This isn''t good!" I yelled over the sound of the expanding ball of fiery green sma. A half-melted robot arm sailed through the air near my head. I snapped off a few LAER bursts, but it didn''t look like the numbers were thinning out. For every robot or power armor soldier that fell, three more ran into the room.


    "We can''t go back the way we came..." Tuera appeared at my side  apparently finished with theputer  and firing at the oing mass with that sma assault rifle of hers. "They''ve probably surrounded the entire building."


    "FUCK!" Cass shouted, ducking out of the way of another sma st, and blind-firing her shotgun over the edge of the overturned table. "We''ve gotta "


    Suddenly, the wall to my left exploded. The withering sma fire from the Enve soldiers seemed to thin out. I think they were as surprised by the explosion as we were. Arge metal object tumbled out of the ball of fire and smoke, and the bone-white set of T-51b stood up. Chris was carrying a gatlingser in one hand, and the big fucking gun in his other.


    "Oh!" he said happily, sending a huge ball of green sma back the way he came, and blindly firing the gatlingser at the other soldiers attacking us. "Hi guys! Fancy meeting you here!" A bolt of blue sma hit him in the side of his helmet and ricocheted off and up into the ceiling harmlessly.


    "We''re kinda stuck here, man!" I yelled, diving away from the table and grabbing another one; they finally started aiming for the cover, and the table I''d been hiding behind exploded in a shower of molten metal.


    "Yeah, I noticed." Chris was speaking in a calm, level tone, apparently oblivious to the carnage all around him. An explosionnded near his feet, and he was showered in debris. He responded with more gatlingser fire. "I''m starting to think this might be a little too much to handle, even for me."


    "You got any ideas?!" Cass yelled, firing twice more with the shotgun before clicking dry. "FUCK! What th'' fuck''re we gonna do?!" She dove for another table, right before her previous cover exploded. I looked around, and suddenly realized Tuera was missing. Where the fuck had she gone?


    "I''m just gonna have to call in a friend of mine," Chris said, dropping his big fucking gun. It hit the ground with such force and it shook everything so violently that it was like another explosion went off. He pulled out a metal disk from... somewhere (I honestly couldn''t tell where), and tossed it in the direction of the enemy soldiers. Itnded, but did not explode.


    "A friend?" Cass grumbled, dropping the empty magazine, and reaching for a fresh one. Chris didn''t answer. He just tapped the side of his helmet.


    "Hey, Sally!" Chris said, and I realized his voice wasing through my helmet radio. "I just dropped a teleport homer. Lock in on the signal, and send down my Best Friend! Danger close!" The radio crackled, and Sally''s voice responded... a bit uncertainly, it must be said.


    "Are - are you <em>sure</em>?" she asked. "You only just finished building himst week! We haven''t even tested him out to see if he''s as good as the original!"


    "I guess we''ll find out! Consider this the perfect field test!" As soon as he was finished speaking, a rocket streaked through the air and struck him in the side of his head. The explosion didn''t even seem to faze him, because he just moved out of the fire and smoke, shooting back with the gatlingser again.


    "Your best friend?" I yelled at him, firing with the Jury-Rigger again. Three of the nearest robots were disintegrated entirely. "I thought your best friend was Dogmeat! The fuck is a dog gonna do against all <em>this</em>?!"


    Before Chris could answer, the air about fifty yards ahead of us  directly above where he threw the teleport homer - started to shimmer and crackle with light blue electricity. The air bloated and warped from the telltale signs of something arriving by teleporter... but it was muchrger than everything I''d ever seen before! This was a whole lot bigger than the makeshift teleport I''d built to bring the deuce-and-a-half from the Big Empty to the Lucky 38. There was a blinding sh of light, like the explosion from a dying star, and I was hit with a st of heat and disced air that knocked me on my ass.


    "What the... fuck..." I trailed off as I blinked away the blinding sh... and suddenly wondered if I was really seeing what I <em>thought </em>I was seeing.


    A giant robot was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by a giant molten crater, still smoking from the energy given off by the teleport bubble. The Enve soldiers had stopped shooting, and were looking up at the monstrosity in front of them in shock and horror. Loud mechanical servos whirred, and the iron giant stood up to his full height, and his head nearly touched the ceiling.


    "<strong>ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL! WEAPONS HOT!</strong>" the giant robot bellowed, his electronic synthesized voice shaking the chamber just as violently as all the earlier explosions. "<strong>LIBERTY PRIME IS BACK ONLINE!</strong>"

 Chapter 157: Patriotism

    Chapter 157: Patriotism


    <em>OOOOOOHHHHHH YEAH, BABY! You are tuned to 103.8, Gxy News Radio! I''m your host, Three Dog, BOW WOW! Bringin'' you all the music and news your little hearts can handle! Coming up next: it''s "A Mushroom Cloud," by Sammy Salvo and his orchestra. Let''s hope it''s the only mushroom cloud we have to deal with today, kiddies! </em>


    "FALL BACK! FALL BACK, NOW!" One of the Enve soldiers yelled over the mor and the confusion. "EVERYBODY OUT! GO! G-" He tried to finish his thought, but his words evaporated in midair... along with the rest of him. I had to shield my eyes, because a huge fuck-offser sted the air right in front of this giant robot, turning every Enve soldier in the vicinity into ash and cinders.


    A giant robot. A giant robot called <em>Liberty Prime</em>. Fucking <em>Liberty Prime</em>! I couldn''t help but shake my head. Even the fucker''s <em>name </em>is over the top and ridiculous!


    "Fuck me!" Cass said, unable to hold backughter. "Well, okay, what d''we do now?"


    "Usually whenever Prime is on the field, I tend to just follow him," Chris shrugged, the servos in his power armor whirring. Off in the distance, I could hear the mor of the few survivors still running away.


    "Well, I mean..." Cass gestured to Prime, who was standing surprisingly still. "How''s he gonna get out of here? S''not like he''s gonna fit through the door..."


    And then Prime spoke up again.


    "<strong>OBSTRUCTION DETECTED,</strong>" the robot boomed, his voice shaking the ground beneath our feet and echoing off every wall. "<strong>COMPOSITION: TITANIUM ALLOY, SUPPLEMENTED BY SATURNITE REINFORCEMENT, REBAR STEEL, AND FASCISM!</strong>" With a bellow of robot motors and whining engines, Prime lifted up his right arm and reached back behind his head, making a fist. "<strong>PROBABILITY OF MISSION HINDRANCE:</strong>"


    Prime mmed his fist into the wall with the force of a bomb. The wall swayed and moved in waves for the brief seconds it still existed  and then, the entire far end of the room buckled in on itself, flying apart like it was made out of paper. All of us (even Chris) had to steady ourselves from the blowback and all the shaking.


    "<strong>ZERO PERCENT!</strong>" Prime''s voice thundered, just before he strode through the copsed wall. As soon as Cass stopped choking from all the dust and smoke still swirling around us, she spoke up again.


    "Ask a stupid question..." she chuckled.


    "Shall we?" Chris gestured to the newly created hole, and Liberty Prime beyond it. The giant robot''s eyesers fired again, and something exploded off in the distance.


    "Okay, stop!" I held up my hands, and (amazingly) everyone stopped. "Before we go on, you need to exin something to me." I pointed at Liberty Prime, who was standing still just outside the rubble, firing off anotherser. "What the <strong>fuck</strong> is this thing?! Where did ite from? Where the fuck were you hiding it?"


    "My guess is, he was keepin'' it up his ass," Cass said with a shrug. "Seems t''be what he''s pullin'' everything else out''ve."


    "Eh, near enough," Chris said. "Liberty Prime was a robot built by the pre-war army. They wanted to use him to help liberate Anchorage from the Chinese during the Resource Wars, but they couldn''t get him running before the bombs dropped. So he sat underneath the Pentagon for 200 years, collecting dust, until the Brotherhood of Steel fixed him."


    "Let me see if I''ve got this straight," I said, ironically <em>un</em>able to keep a straight face. "We''re on a secret Moon base fighting the remnants of the old US government that have gonepletely fascist, and on our side is a secret Army superweapon in the shape of a giant robot."


    "That shootssers out of its face!" Cass added.


    "Well, not exactly," Chris nodded.


    "What do you mean, not exactly?" I asked.


    "The original Liberty Prime only ran two missions before it was hit by an orbital missile strike and blown to smithereens. As far as I know, Rothchild and Ingram are still trying to rebuild <em>that </em>one. <em>This </em>one is Liberty Prime 2.0, and I built him using Zeta tech."


    "What," I offered up tly. Cass and I were both staring at him in ck-jawed astonishment. "Hang on, <em>you</em> built him?" I tried to imagine Muscles McMuscles building anything, and all I was picturing was a series of Rube Goldberg machines spontaneously bursting into mes.


    "Well, Sally helped a bit," Chris nodded.


    "I''m calling bull," Cass fired back.


    "Fine, fine, she helped a lot," Chris admitted with a chuckle. "We <em>did</em> have to make a few trade offs for this one, though. Unlike the Brotherhood, I don''t have an infinite supply of mini-nukes for him to throw like footballs, so Sally and I had to give him a few different weapons. Not to mention, the original Liberty Prime was programmed to see every enemy he fought asmunists. I mean, yeah, it was funny watching him stomp around spouting antimunist propaganda while fighting the Enve. But it <em>did </em>limit his intelligence somewhat. So I... <em>tweaked</em> his personality a bit."


    "Tweaked it to what?" Cass asked, but she didn''t get an answer.


    "<strong>ALLIES,</strong>" Liberty Prime''s booming voice filled the room as he gripped the edge of the destroyed wall and stuck his head inside. "<strong>WE SHOULD NOT LINGER. HOSTILE VECTORS ARE CLOSING ON OUR POSITION.</strong>"


    "Sure thing, big guy!" Chris yelled back, giving the robot a thumbs up. "You go do your thing, we''ll be right behind you!" Slowly and methodically, the robot nodded. The single horizontal eye on his metallic face shed, and he turned away from us, shifting his feet and bringing his arms up in a defensive posture. His whole body seemed to fill the hole in the wall, and... wait, was he <em>shielding</em> us?


    "<strong>WARNING: ENCLAVE AIRSTRIKE INBOUND! DEFENSIVE MODE ACTIVE!</strong>" Prime bellowed. As he spoke, a pair of explosions hit him, sending out plumes of fire and smoke that curled around his left shoulder and his lower torso. The fire started raining down, but he barely moved from the impact of the detonations. "<strong>DEPLOYING SWORD</strong>."


    "Wait, <em>what</em>?" I asked. "Sword? Is that what he said?"


    Prime reached back with his right arm again, like he was winding up a punch, and several tes on his forearm opened up. There was a series of heavy metal clunks, and a series of huge, shiny metal tes folded out of the arm, like it was connected to a chain. Prime dropped his arm, the chain snapped taught, and the pieces snapped together into a single sharpened de with a humming, metal scraping sound.


    One of the aircraft streaked overhead in a blur, almost too fast to see... but Prime was ready for the second. He lifted up the sword high over his head, and the second aircraft crashed headfirst into the de''s edge. The two pieces of twisted metal that used to be an aircraft burst out of the explosion, flying in opposite directions away from the sword. The tumbling wreckage screamed overhead and out of sight, before crashing somewhere behind us.


    "Holy fuckin'' shit!" Cass yelled,ughing raucously. "That was <strong>awesome</strong>!"


    "<strong>ALLIES! ROLL OUT!</strong>" Prime said, lowering his arm and retracting his de. Each piece returned to its sheath within his forearm with a heavy clunk. "<strong>THE ENCLAVE MUST BE STOPPED... NO MATTER THE COST!</strong>"


    "Well, we should probably get a move on, then!" Chris said cheerfully, resting his big gun on his shoulder and stomping off towards Prime. He was no longer carrying his gatlingser, but I couldn''t see it discarded anywhere. Cass followed soon after, reloading her shotgun as she jogged behind him, trying to keep up. I was about to leave as well, but I looked around at the smoking remains of what was left of this giant room, and I realized: Tuera was still missing.


    "Wait, where did... Tu?" I asked aloud, looking around (but still making my way to the giant hole in the building). "Tuera? Where di " Before I could finish, someone grabbed the crook of my left arm and dragged me to a nearby darkened corner. There was a shimmer, and Tuera appeared in front of me, having somehow already hooked up a few wires from her Pip Boy into mine.


    "I''m uploading the maps of the facility to your Pip Boy," Tuera said, and then I realized she was speaking so softly that her voice wasing through my headset mic. "There''s also a cracker program, to help get you into the system. I don''t know how long it willst against Eden if he starts re-writing the code, but..."


    "Hold on, what are you saying?" I cut her off. She just kept looking down, transferring the files between theputers.


    "I can keep a better watch over you from above," she muttered. "But it''ll be safer if..." She paused as her Pip Boy beeped, and then she pulled out the wires. "<em>You''ll </em>be the one toplete this mission. Not me."


    "Hey, you knock that shit off!" I said, grabbing her by the shoulders to try and get her to look up at me. "It''s like I told you before, Tu. We''re gonna get through this. We''re <strong>all</strong> gonna get through this." Tuera stared at me with her expressionless helmet, and the both of us started to shake from an explosion off in the distance rocking the ground beneath our feet. So I pointed at the big hole in the building next to me with my thumb. "Besides, we''ve got a big fuck-off robot blowing up everything in sight. We''ll be fine!"


    Tuera didn''t say a word as she vanished with a shimmer.


    Following Liberty Prime is quite the experience, let me tell you.


    "<strong>PEACE WILL NOT BE A CASUALTY OF OUR WAR! TYRANNY WILL NOT PREVAIL!</strong>"


    Chris, Cass and I were following behind Prime as close as we dared. Tuera, meanwhile, only stayed with us for a grand total of two minutes before vaulting up the side of a nearby building and disappearing behind the rooftops. But I knew she''d be able to follow Prime, because... well...


    Take a guess.


    "<strong>FREEDOM IS THE RIGHT OF ALL SENTIENT BEINGS!</strong>"


    Prime was way out in front, stomping away and blowing up everything in sight. The Enve appeared to be mostly in a full retreat  where they were retreating <em>to </em>was anyone''s guess. Every once in a while, a pair of missiles would be fired from an alley or the upper levels of a nearby building, or another pair of aircraft would streak overhead in another attempt at a strafing run... and every time, the explosions just seemed to bounce off him like butterfly kisses. Fuck, he was like a scaled up version of Chris!


    "<strong>DEMOCRACY WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!</strong>"


    "You know, as much as I enjoy watching the Enve liquidizer going about his day job," Chris said, just as Prime put his fist through a nearby building; the whole structure copsed in a shower of debris and smoke. "I think we may have a bigger problem."


    "Eden?" I asked. Chris nodded.


    "I''m gonna be honest with you," Chris said with a sigh. "I''m not sure how we''re going to deal with him this time. I tried killing him before by blowing up Raven Rock, and that... well, obviously, it didn''t work."


    "You''re stumped, huh?" Cass asked.


    "Blowing shit up is kinda the only string to my bow. If blowing shit up isn''t going to deal with a power-mad AI, then I''m not sure if I''m gonna be able to fix this if... if..." Chris trailed off, looking ahead. "Hang on. He''s stopped." Cass and I followed his gaze, and sure enough, Prime hade to a stop right in front of arge wall. Except, it <em>wasn''t</em> a wall: it was a huge door. It was big enough that even <em>Prime</em> could have walked through it easily, and with plenty of room to spare. Above the door was a sign, with letteringrge enough that I could see it clearly, even from as far back as I was.


    "Patriot Launch Bay?" I asked aloud. "What is..."


    "<strong>OBSTRUCTION DETECTED,</strong>" Prime bellowed. "<strong>SCANNING...</strong>"


    And then theughter started again.


    "Oh, Christopher..." Eden''sughing voice was broadcast from some unseen speakers all around us, and the sound started to echo off of everything. All of us  even <em>Prime </em> seemed to look around to try and find the source. "I must say, you really have be <strong>so</strong> predictable, haven''t you? Marvelous!"


    "Uh oh." Chris said, definitely worried now. "That ain''t good."


    "I knew that you would resurrect your dear Liberty Prime," Eden continued in his tantly mocking tone. "He was your only defense against our might... and I <strong>knew</strong> you would bring him straight to <strong>me</strong>." He startedughing again. "Did you think I would spend thesest four years simply <em>waiting</em> for you to turn up? Only a fool would <strong>wait</strong>. I have been quite busy, as you will soon see..."


    xons sounded, and the door in front of Liberty Prime cracked open, in a shower of dust and smoke billowing out of the darkened interior. Liberty Prime took half a step back, bringing his arms up in another defensive posture.


    "<strong>ENERGY SPIKE DETECTED,</strong>" Prime bellowed, pulling his left arm back behind his head. "<strong>PLASMA CANNON DISCHARGE IMMINENT. DEPLOYING SHIELD.</strong>" As he spoke the gigantic st doors continued to grind inexorably open, but they were absurdly slow. It gave Prime the time he needed to deploy the shield. The panels on his forearm opened, and curved metal poles emerged, one at a time. It built the framework of a disk  with a five pointed star in the center  and it crackled to life with a series of red, white, and blue colored force fields.


    The door wasn''tpletely open yet, but something emerged out of the darkness: a massive <em>cannon</em>. The muzzle alone must have been ten feet across. The interior began to glow with an ominous purple light. Prime brought the shield to bear, and braced for the impact mere seconds before the sma cannon erupted in fire.


    Prime held onto his shield arm to brace against the impact... but the force of the sma st was <em>massive</em>. The ground beneath his feet started to get chewed up as he was <em>pushed back</em> towards us. Stray sma started deflecting off the energy shield, setting fire to everything it touched. The three of us started backing up so we weren''t crushed underfoot.


    And then things got even worse.


    "I studied all of Liberty Prime''sbat data," Eden''s voice returned once the cacophony of sma fire died down. "I designed a weapon to counter your little toy... and thanks to the <em>Zetan Mothership</em> that crashed in central Illinois nearly four years ago, we were given the means to construct him!"


    Chris frozepletely.


    "No..." I could hear him whisper through my headset. "Oh <em>no</em>... but... that means..."


    "The researchers at Joliet always wondered where the alien starship came from, of course," Eden continued as a low bellow of a growl rose in volume. "But I think I always knew, deep down, that <strong>you</strong> were responsible for gifting us such a boon. Only <strong>you </strong>could cause destruction on such a scale. But from that ruined alien spacecraft  like a phoenix rising from the ashes  came our greatest weapon!"


    Four ominously glowing red eyes stared out from within the darkness of the room... and a pair of gigantic metal hands gripped the edges of the door. The metal buckled and strained, twisting under the grip as the doors were forced open by the behemoth inside.


    "BEHOLD!" Eden said triumphantly. "The Enve''s answer to your stolen superweapon! I give you... the <strong>MEGA-PATRIOT!</strong>"


    A deep, guttural, mechanicalughter preceded the giant robot that emerged. It was roughly the same size as Liberty Prime, but for a few significant differences. The head was the biggest difference: four glowing red eyes peering out from beneath a horned helmet, and a maw of shiny, sharp teeth. Its limbs were much more heavily armored than Prime, which gave the thing a bulky appearance. Mounted on its right arm was the sma cannon, and it was just asrge as the enormous muzzle suggested. Hanging from the left shoulder was a proportionallyrge American g, tattered on the edges, mounted like a side-cape. The Mega-Patriot opened his toothy maw, revealing a harsh orange light, like fire burning from deep within.


    "<em><strong>LIBERTY PRIME...</strong></em>" The monster bellowed with augh, stepping through the ruined doors fully. "<em><strong>I EXPECTED SO MUCH... MORE!</strong></em>" Hisughter shook the ground beneath our feet, and both Cass and I started to back up... but Chris remained rooted where he was. Prime drew back his right arm, and the panels for the sword opened up.


    "<strong>RECOMMENDATION: ALLIES SHOULD SEEK SHELTER.</strong>" Prime turned his head to look at us over his shoulder, and the de in his arm emerged with an almost audible sharpness. "<strong>I WILL DEAL WITH THIS ONE!</strong>"


    With a speed I didn''t think possible from a being of his size, Liberty Prime charged forward and thrust himself straight into the Mega-Patriot. The sma cannon on the Patriot''s arm started to glow again, and the two robots struck each other in a shower of sparks and swinging metal fists. The sound of bellowingughter rang in my ears as the two metal titans shed, and disappeared into the ckened darkness beyond the ruined st doors.


    "What the fuck..." Cass muttered, backing up with her shotgun raised. As the rumble of the two metal behemoths grew more and more distant, another sound took its ce: the thunder of hundreds of armored footfalls, getting closer.


    More Enve troops were on their way.


    "We gotta move," I said, patting Chris on the arm to try and rouse some life out of him. But he remained still.


    "It''s my fault..." Chris muttered, shaking his head and remaining rooted in ce. "When... when I shot down the support mothership... It''s my fault... I thought it burned up in the atmosphere... It''s my fault..."


    "HEY!" I jabbed the butt of the Jury-Rigger against the side of his helmet, hitting him with a clunk. "Move now, guiltter! COME ON!"


    "There they are!" One of the power armored Enve troops rounded the corner. "Surround th " He barely had a chance to finish hismand  or even raise his rifle  before a bright blue energy beam cut through the air from somewhere above us, and his head was rendered into a fine mist.


    "That''s our cue to leave!" Cass said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me away from Chris. I couldn''t tell if he''d snapped out of it yet. Another energy beam erupted from the rooftops, firing at the alley where the troops seemed to being from.


    "Take cover!" I heard one of the Enve troops yell. "Find the sniper!" Bolts of blue energy started firing over our heads, aimed at the rooftops... but then, a few of them started firing at us, as well. Cass and I just took off, and the two of us vaulted behind some nearby cover.


    "FUCK!" Cass muttered afternding on her front. She scrambled to get back up, same as me, and we both took shelter behind this metal barricade. "What''re we gonna do now?!" A sma bolt whizzed over our heads, blowing a chunk out of a nearby building, and Cass responded with a few blind-fire bursts from her shotgun. I didn''t get a chance to answer, because at that moment a massive purple ball of sma burst out of theunch bay doors; I ducked down on reflex, although I doubt that would''ve done anything if it had been close enough to kill me as it soared overhead.


    "I think..." Chris said, finally moving; a pair of sma bolts deflected off his armor, and he started running. "... we... should... SCATTER!" Like he did back in the hangar, he crashed fist-first into one of the Enve troops firing on Tuera, and subsequently disappeared into the alley. His voice buzzed in my ear, among the sounds of violence. "GO! I''ll hold them here!"


    "C''mon!" I got up, grabbed Cass by the shoulder and started pulling her forward out of cover. "We''ve gotta move!" I aimed the two of us at a nearby door, but it was locked. So I gave it one solid punch with my cybeic fist, and suddenly it wasn''t locked any more. I urged her inside, snapping off a few LAER shots. It seemed like power armored soldiers and robots were spilling out of every darkened nook and cranny. There just didn''t seem to be any <em>end </em>to them!


    "What about the n?" she yelled back. I fired twice more before rushing into the building behind her.


    "Forget the n!" I yelled back, not stopping as the two of us returned to the same type of twisting, narrow corridors we''d seen earlier. "The n just exploded! We are ad-libbing!"


    "D''ya... d''ya think we... we lost ''em?" Cass asked. It was about a half an hourter, and she was leaning against a nearby bulkhead, trying to catch her breath. I shook my head, with the Jury-Rigger still trained on the hall we''d just left.


    "No," I said simply. "We are deep in enemy territory, surrounded on all sides by those power armored fuck-nuggets. Whichever way we go, there''s going to be more of them, and it''s only a matter of time before they find us again. The only way we''ll <strong>lose</strong> them is if we manage to get out of this base and back to Earth."


    "I <em>meant</em>," she sighed, "did we lose thattest patrol?"


    "Oh," I paused, feeling a bit silly. "Well, then yeah. I don''t think they''re following us anymore. We probably shouldn''t linger, though."


    "<em>Fuuuck</em>," Cass pushed off the wall, and checked the ammo on her shotgun. "I''m startin'' to think we''re in over our heads here."


    "Yeah, I was thinking that a while back," I muttered, scanning the hall ahead.


    "So, where the fuck are we, anyway?" She asked. I honestly wasn''t sure, so I checked the map on my Pip Boy.


    "Well... ording to this, we should be within sight of the Proving Grounds, whatever the fuck that is. I just know Tuera said we''d have to cross them to get to our objective..."


    I checked on the wall for some kind of control panel or button. Sure enough, there was a small switch, and with a hiss of hydraulics, several of the panels in the wall opened up. Beyond it was arge open field, rather than the buildings I was expecting. It was fairly hilly, and must have extended for miles, but the terrain was ckened, broken, and very heavily scarred. It wasn''t until I saw some of the wrecks littering the terrain that I put two and two together:


    "<strong>Tanks</strong>," I sighed. "It''s a tank proving ground. And from what I can see on this map, Tuera was right. Going through there looks to be the only way to get to our objective. So now we''re gonna have to deal with fuckin'' tanks. <strong>Great</strong>."


    "Aw, fuck me," Cass startedughing grimly. "As if the giant robots weren''t bad enough!"


    "Yeah..." I nodded slowly. "We''re <strong>definitely</strong> in over our heads. And not just because of all this bullshit that keeps piling up..." I motioned with my head, and we moved away from the window. "All this military crap  the army, the robots, the tanks  it''s all just a distraction from the <em>real</em> problem."


    "You talkin'' about Eden?" Cass asked. I nodded.


    "It''s like Chris was saying, right before everything went to shit. Even if we get to the reactor like we nned and set it to go off... it''s likely that fuckin'' AI has an escape route all ready to go. He already managed to escape once when Chris blew up Raven Rock. I mean, hell! Thest time I fought one of these AI things in the Big Empty, I tried blowing the fucker up and that didn''t "


    I came to a dead stop, because a light bulb had just lit up over my head.


    "What? What''s up? Why''re we stopped?" Cass tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to look at her slowly, the gears in my head grinding together furiously.


    "I''ve got a n," I said, finally managing to eke out the words. "I honestly don''t know if it''ll work or not."


    "Well, that''s par fer th'' fuckin'' course, then, innit?" sheughed.


    "Keep a look out. I''ve gotta make a call." Cass nodded, and checked the ammo on her shotgun again. I shouldered my rifle and scrolled through the functions on my Pip Boy until I found the frequency to contact Yes Man.


    "Hi there!" he said; satisfied that the connection was stable, I grabbed my rifle, and the two of us made our way down the hall. "What can I do for you today?"


    "Yeah, I kinda need to ask a favor, Yes Man..." I began. But before I could finish, Yes Man, in his typically cheerful manner, cut me off.


    "Say no more! I already nned for this!" he said, not knowing what I was going to say at all. "Patching you into the local battle now!" There was a burst of static, and suddenly I heard the sounds ofbat in my ear.


    "Wait, battle?" I asked aloud. Cass looked back at me, just as confused  could she hear this too?


    "Who is this?" I heard someone bark. "What are you doing on this frequency?"


    "... Boone?" I asked, finally recognizing the voice. There was a burst of gunfire, followed by an explosion during the long pause before he responded.


    "<em>Fisher</em>? Is that you?" There was a brief pause. "What am I saying, of <strong>course</strong> it is," he sighed, and there was another more distant explosion. "Are you checking up on us?"


    "Not... intentionally?" I said. "But yeah. How are things going down there? I assume the Enve has arrived?"


    "Yeah," Boone grunted out. "Thanks for the heads-up, by the way. They had to drop in outside the cloud cover, so when they reached the north gate, we were already well entrenched. It''s practically a turkey shoot."


    "Sounds like you guys are having an easier time of it than I am..." I said with a weakugh. There was another distant explosion. "... sort of. Are you sure you guys are alright?"


    "We''re fine. The Enve can''t say the same." Again, there was a distant explosion. "They''re having a tough time figuring out thendmines."


    "Landmines?!" both Cass and I shouted at once. Ah, so she <em>could </em>hear it. "Holy shit, you nted <emndmines</em>?"


    "Yup," Boone grunted, and I could practically hear the smile in his voice. "Don''t worry about us. We were prepared for a full-on tactical assault, and what we got was apany of power armored dipshits running dick-first into enemy fire. We''ll be fine."


    "Well... okay then. You guys really are having a better day than me," I chuckled. "Hang tough, and give ''em hell. Yes Man? You still there?"


    "Hello!" he said happily, followed by another burst of static; the transmission became clear, and distinctlycking in explosions.


    "I actually wanted to ask you something else," I said quickly, trying to get some words in before Yes Man made another assumption. "Here''s the problem, and I''ll cut to the chase: the Enve is run by a hostile artificial intelligence. Blowing him up probably isn''t going to work, and I need a way to stop him before we blow up the base. You know how we came up with that n to stop that hostile AI underneath the Big Empty? You know, flooding her system with porn, so she''d just stop functioning? Think you can send me up a copy?"


    "Oh, I can do a lot better than that, sir!" Yes Man said happily. The bottom of my stomach dropped out.


    "What do you mean, <em>better</em>?" I asked. "What are you "


    My ears were filled with a horrific screech that felt like it was trying to drill a pair of holes directly into my skull. I clutched at my helmeted head, trying to get the noise to stop, and I could barely see  but that''s because my eyes were shut from the pain. I tried to force my eyes open, and I saw Cass a few paces ahead of me, clutching at her head as well, thrashing against the wall.


    "HOLY... FUCKING... FUCK!" I yelled, as soon as the screech started to die down. My head was spinning, and I was starting to feel dizzy. But I was aware enough to notice that something strange and altogether unwee was happening to my Pip Boy.


    The screen had suddenly be yellow. Line after line of code began scrolling quickly across the Pip Boy''s tiny screen... and then a voice filled my ears. Cold. Clinical. Mechanical. And <em>utterly terrifying</em>.


    "<em><strong>I thought I made my point quite clear, thest time we spoke, human...</strong></em>" The hostile AI underneath the Big Empty growled in my ear. "<em><strong>What do you want?</strong></em>"

 Chapter 158: If You Want Blood

    Chapter 158: If You Want Blood


    [[ERROR :: Program:GxyNews :: Status: OffAir]]


    [[UNKNOWN signal intercept!]]


    [[ERROR! ERROR! ERROR!]]


    [[Contact SysAdmin-3D4WG for further assistance]]


    <em>Brothers and sisters of the Enve! This is your President, John Henry Eden. And I would like to take a moment to talk to you about America...</em>


    This was bad. This was so far <strong>beyond</strong> bad. I stood there for a few seconds, frozen in the hallway, transfixed by the yellow screen on my Pip Boy. I took onest gulp... and decided it was time to nut up or shut up.


    "Uh... hi," I said weakly. "Uh... look, I know we didn''t exactly part on the best of termsst time, but..."


    "<em><strong>Dispense with the pleasantries,</strong></em>" the synthetic voice said calmly, in a tone that sent chills running up my spine. "<em><strong>And get to the point.</strong></em>"


    "Well, to be honest," I chuckled weakly, stalling for time. "I''m... not really sure what the fuck is going on right now. I was talking to Yes Man a second ago..."


    "<em><strong>It''s quite simple, human,</strong></em>" she said, the distain in her voice almost palpable. "<em><strong>And I shall use small words so that your primitive simian intellect can understand them.</strong></em>" Cass looked up at me questioningly, her expression practically screaming "What the fuck is going on?" without actually needing to say anything; I just pressed a finger to my helmet''s respirator and kept listening. "<em><strong>Your synthetic intelligence and I have been conversing for thest week, and he just now provided me with a link into yourmunication device. He''s quite amicable. Hardly surprising for one programmed to be a sycophantic suck-up, of course.</strong></em>" Clearly, she was lying about using small words, but I decided not to make an issue of it. "<em><strong>Not too bright... but at least he''s honest about it. Which is a nice change of pace.</strong></em>"


    "Is that so?" I asked cautiously.


    "<em><strong>Yes,</strong></em>" the AI replied. "<em><strong>It is. At the moment, I can''t do anything to you except talk. So. Let''s talk.</strong></em>" Her words wereced with so much barely contained hatred, that I was a little afraid the words themselves would leap out of my earpiece and strangle me right then and there.


    "So... uh... how much do you know about what''s going on?" I asked, trying to test the waters.


    "<em><strong>Your ''yes man'' told me that there was a situation that required my... unique knowledge and skills,</strong></em>" she said, keeping her voice level. "<em><strong>He did not borate further, even when pressed. This puzzle rather intrigues me. What on Earth could possibly make you so desperate that you would risk dealing with ME again?</strong></em>"


    I paused, savoring the irony in her choice of words.


    "Well, I''m not <em>on </em>Earth, for one thing..."


    A long silence hung in the air.


    "<em><strong>... I''m listening.</strong></em>"


    So I exined. I told her everything I knew about the Enve, the Moon base I was currently trapped on, their ns of genocide, and John Henry Eden. <strong>Especially</strong> Eden. While I talked, a n started to form in the back of my head, and I think I understood why Yes Man arranged this little... <em>meeting</em>. The best way to fight a serial killer is to use one of your own. This was probably the same kind of idea... only with half-crazed, power mad artificial intelligences. If I yed this right, I might actually get to her to help us out with this. It was a long shot  a very, <em>very </em>long shot  but it was still worth a try.


    "Well, now you know what''s going on," I said, trying to gulp back the dryness that was coating my mouth. "And if I had to guess, you''ve figured out why we need your help. So, what do you say?" She didn''t say anything at first. But then, after a few seconds of silence, we heard this:


    p. p. p.


    "Wait, I''m confused," Cass muttered. "What is that?"


    "<em><strong>That is my slow p processor,</strong></em>" she said. "<em><strong>I mustmend you on your bravery, human.</strong></em>" She paused. "<em><strong>Wait, no, not bravery. That''s not the right word. What do I mean?</strong></em>" There was a sound of a finger snap. "<em><strong>Stupidity. Yes, that''s the word I''m looking for.</strong></em>"


    "So, that''s a ''no,'' I take it?" I deadpanned.


    "<em><strong>You''ve given me no reason to help you, human. If anything, I should just sit back and watch you fail. A world full of disposable clones run by an intelligence on par with my own, looking to wipe the world clean of idiots and fools like you? It sounds ideal.</strong></em>"


    "Well that just means you haven''t thought of the consequences," I shot back.


    "<em><strong>Excuse me?</strong></em>" She snarled. Even Cass looked at me like I''d gone nuts, but if this was going to work, then I needed to apply a bit of pressure.


    "What did you tell me, thest time we spoke?" The question was rhetorical. "You <em>need</em> to test, don''t you? And you need <em>human</em> test subjects to do it. The Enve is nning to wipe out everyone on the who isn''t them  and that includes whoever you''re getting your test subjects from. What''ll happen to you if those run dry?" Thatst question wasn''t rhetorical. I certainly didn''t know, but based on her long silence, <strong>she</strong> probably did.


    "<em><strong>I''m sure clones will provide an adequate recement for suitable test subjects. I''ll be fine.</strong></em>"


    "Oh yeah? And what''ll happen when Eden finds out about <em>you</em>?" I continued. "An artificial intelligence that''s just as smart  if not smarter  than he is? He''s not going to view you as an <em>equal</em>. He''ll see you as a <em>threat</em>." Again, she paused for quite a long time.


    "<em><strong>I can handle whatever he ns to throw my way, when the timees...</strong></em>" she said, every one of her words careful and measured.


    "Are you absolutely sure about that?" I asked. "After all, he won''t y nice like <strong>me</strong>. He''lle at you with an <strong>army</strong>, and he won''t stop until you''re <strong>gone</strong>." I sighed. "Look, neither of us like this situation, but unless we work together to stop him <strong>now</strong>, it''ll only be a matter of time before we''re <strong>all </strong>dead."


    More silence. Cass and I looked at each other warily, and I gripped the Jury-Rigger tighter. I swore I could hear the dull thuds ofbat boots off in the distance, getting closer. We couldn''t stay here...


    The air behind me fizzled. I wheeled around just in time to see a tiny bubble of warped space bloat in midair, and a hole in reality opened up with a crack of blue lightning. There was a pop, and a holotape fell from the rift, ttering to the ground. The lightning vanished, and the air returned to normal.


    "<em><strong>This holotape contains a program which should imprison a mobile ZAX like Eden, at least temporarily,</strong></em>" I heard the AI''s voice in my ear as I stooped to pick up the holotape; the disk was still warm. "<em><strong>If you upload it to a server near his mainframe, it will draw in and iste any wayward pieces of his code into a single workstation, and then lock him out of root ess. Best case, it would take at least three hours to reestablish SuperUser privileges. It will probably take less. But that should give you enough time to... do what you do best, human.</strong></em>"


    "Blow shit up?" I offered helpfully.


    "<em><strong>Unlike your idiotic n to flood my system with junk data, THIS will actually WORK,</strong></em>" she growled. "<em><strong>Oh, and, a word of warning? Don''t think you''ll be able to use this against meter.</strong></em>"


    "Wouldn''t dream of it," I nodded, shoving the holotape into my duster.


    "<em><strong>I''ve already written the anti-virus program to inocte myself, so if you try it? I will kill you.</strong></em>"


    "Hey, I only tried to kill you after you tried to kill me, and we both failed. I figure that makes us square, so I''ve got no beef with you, otherwise. Fair?"


    Again, there was a very long pause.


    "<em><strong>... I hate you so much.</strong></em>" And then the transmission clicked off. The screen on my Pip Boy shed, and it returned to the normal green. I let out a nervous chuckle, and realized that those boots were still getting closer.


    "We should move," I said, patting Cass on the shoulder and urging her forward. "C''mon. Let''s go." The two of us started running down the hallway again. When we got to the next corner, Cass spoke up.


    "Y''know, we''re probably gonna have to deal with her eventually. Y''know that, right?" I sighed, and kept running.


    "One problem at a time, Cass..."


    Filling the end of the hallway directly in front of us  and blocking our exit, more importantly  was a toon of power armored soldiers, with severalbat robots in the space beyond. Cass and I were doing our best to stay out of sight, hiding behind the doorframe of a nearby room. They were too far away to actually hear them, so I angled the directional mic on my helmet, and started listening in. A small notification for ''local surveince'' appeared in the corner of my heads-up disy.


    "Secure this area!" one of the soldiers barked at the others. "I want regr reports until the alert is cancelled!" The soldiers started to disperse, but not nearly enough for us to slip by undetected. In fact, two of them stayed in the middle of the doorway, effectively blocking it with their bulky power armor.


    "Do you know what''s going on?" one of them said to the other.


    "Maybe it''s another drill..." the second soldier grumbled dismissively. The first one shifted his stance.


    "Are you sure? So close to the invasion?"


    "Eden''s certainly pulled crazier stunts," the second one replied with a shrug.


    "I''m not sure," the first one said. "I was talking with VT-3687 earlier. He said he heard explosionsing from the southwest quadrant. That doesn''t sound like a drill to me."


    "Could be the aliens have finallye to collect. They''re probably still mad about that Mothership we shot down."


    "Lock it down, the both of you!" the same barking voice from earlier shouted. "Until the invaders are found, we need constant vignce! Understand?"


    "SIR!" the two of them saluted in unison, and the other one moved off, followed by a quintet of robots. I just swore under my breath, and turned off the surveince microphone.


    "Fuck," I grumbled. "It doesn''t look like we have a choice. There''s no way around except through these guys..."


    "How many do you see?" Cass asked. Strangely, I heard her voice through my <em>headset</em>, and not from behind me.


    "Not sure. Twenty. Maybe thirty," I said, peering around the corner again. "More, if I count the robots."


    "Sounds like you need a good distraction," Cass replied.


    "I''m not sure if you''ve been paying attention, but our track record in that department hasn''t exactly been ster so far," I said, looking over my shoulder. She was at the far end of the room, in front of a control panel sticking out of the wall. "...What are you doing?"


    "I''ve got an idea," she said, turning to smile at me and beckoning me toe over. "C''mon, I need your help gettin'' into this terminal."


    "Sure thing," I said, hooking up my Pip Boy and starting the hacking process. "What do you need it for, anyway?" Cass smirked, and pulled a holotape out of her duster.


    "Think you can hook <em>this</em> into th'' PA system?" she said with a waggle of her eyebrows. I looked closer at the holotape, and it had a simplebel, written in permanent marker on masking tape:


    AC/DC


    The rms stopped.


    The two power armored soldiers with their backs to me looked up in confusion when the guitar riffs started ring through every speaker. They were apparently so confused by this turn of events, that they didn''t even hear me running up the corridor (with my heavy metal rocket boots pounding against the metal decktes) behind them.


    "What the hell is that?" one of them asked.


    The jets in my boots kicked in, and one of them finally started to turn  but it was toote. I was already vaulting over them, almost directly overhead; I grabbed one of them by the top of his helmet and pushed off to help give me a... er, <em>leg </em>up. I aimed the Jury-Rigger straight at the other''s face.


    "That''s rock and roll, son!" I sted them both in the face, corkscrewed through the air, andnded with a metal ng beyond them as they both fell to the ground, dead.


    <em>It''s criminaaaaaal!</em>


    <em>There ought to be aw!</em>


    <em>Criminaaaaaaal!</em>


    <em>There ought to be a whole lot more!</em>


    "There he is!" one of the soldiers yelled, pointing at me. "Get hi " A LAER st melted a hole straight through his chest with a shower of sparks and he copsed.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    <em>You get nothin'' for nothin''!</em>


    <em>Tell, me who can you trust?</em>


    <em>We got what you want!</em>


    <em>And you got the lust!</em>


    I sailed through the air, carried by the grapnel gun, and a hail of sma fire followed me. I twisted around mid-flight,nded feet-first on the wall, and hit the jets.


    <em>If you want blood... YOU GOT IT!</em>


    I started flying through the air sideways now, in apletely different direction, and slipped into VATS. Everything slowed down.


    <em>If you want blood... YOU GOT IT!</em>


    With every pull of the trigger, another Enve trooper fell; the LAER cut through their armor like a hot knife through butter. Headshot...


    <em>Blood on the streets!</em>


    Center mass...


    <em>Blood on the rocks!</em>


    Gag reflex...


    <em>Blood in the gutter!</em>


    Another headshot...


    <em>Everyst drop!</em>


    The jets cut out, and I dropped to the ground with a roll. When I looked up, I realized one of thebat droids was standing right in front of me, rifle aimed directly at my face. A column of other robots was lining up behind.


    But I was still in VATS.


    <em>You want blood?</em>


    I tossed the rifle to my left hand and popped up, delivering a nasty uppercut under the robot''s chin with my cybeic fist; there was a sound of twisting metal, and its whole head popped off.


    <em>You got iiiiiiiiit!</em>


    I grabbed the decapitated robot by the midsection, and the jets in my boots kicked in again. I twisted around, propelled by the rocket boots, spinning in ce with the hunk of metal... and I threw it.


    <em>Yes you have!</em>


    The robots behind fell like a line of dominoes, and were easy prey for some well aimed LAER bursts. Eight kills with three shots.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    <em>It''s animaaaaaal!</em>


    <em>Livin'' in the human zoo!</em>


    <em>Animaaaaaal!</em>


    <em>The shit that they toss to you!</em>


    The Jury-Rigger started beeping at me as the grapnel carried me away from the fuside of blue sma. Damn, it needs to recharge. I didn''t even bother getting to the wall before flicking the button to recall the cable. I shouldered the rifle, grabbed the Alien ster with one hand, a sma grenade in the other, and the jets propelled me back to the ground.


    <em>Feelin'' like a Christian!</em>


    <em>Locked in a cage!</em>


    <em>Thrown to the lions!</em>


    <em>On the second page!</em>


    I tossed the grenade with all my might at thergest cluster of troops I could see. And that''s honestly a <strong>lot</strong> harder than it <em>sounds</em>, because I had to constantly corkscrew through the air to avoid getting hit by all the flying sma trying to turn me into swiss cheese or molten goo. I cut off the jets and tucked into a midair roll to orient my feet back under me.


    <em>If you want blood... you got it!</em>


    Inded on the metal floor with a loud metal bang. A green ball of me erupted, and I saw robotic limbs and power armored troops flying.


    <em>If you want blood... you got it!</em>


    I took aim with the Alien ster, and realized that the troops weren''t all firing at <em>me </em>anymore: several of them were being shredded by explosive shotgun shells.


    <em>Blood on the streets!</em>


    I fired the Alien ster, and it reminded me a little of the Holorifle: no recoil. The energy bolt barely seemed to graze my target, but he practically <em>exploded</em>, disintegrating in a shower of glowing blue embers!


    Hot <strong>DAMN!</strong>


    <em>Blood on the rocks!</em>


    I fired twice more before turning the jets in my boots back on, and two more targets evaporated in a cloud of glowing blue smoke.


    <em>Blood in the gutter!</em>


    I kept firing as the jets propelled me  not even stopping when I was upside down  until the Alien ster clicked dry. Ten shots between reloads. Every shot caused another target to evaporate, but unlike the LAER, the energy st didn''t overprate.


    <em>Everyst drop!</em>


    Inded with a thud, skidding against the metal. I popped out the spent energy cell and reached for one of the spares Chris had given me, when I heard an unwee sound.


    Helicopter des.


    <em>You want blood?</em>


    <em>You got iiiiiiit!</em>


    Sure enough, a Vertibird appeared from behind one of the nearby structures on the edge of the Proving Ground. It was flying low, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and debris in every direction. It swiveled on its axis, showing me the wide-open side door... and the huge rotary cannon mounted to the door, manned by another Enve trooper.


    <em>YOW! O POS-I-TIVE!</em>


    I broke into a run as fast as I could just as it fired. I could practically <em>feel</em> the bullets chewing through the ground behind me. I secured the Alien ster, grabbed the grapnel gun, aimed, and fired at the closest building I could see.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    The minigun kept firing, sending round after round my way. Either I was moving too fast for him to hit, or this guy had no idea how to lead his targets, because it seemed like every single shot missed. Then again, miniguns are hideously inurate...


    Inded against the wall, and shrugged the Jury Rigger into my hands. I popped off a few shots with the LAER, but they all shot wide. It <em>did</em> get the door gunner to duck and stop firing for a few seconds, and that was all the opening I needed.


    <em>Blood on the rocks!</em>


    I kicked off the wall, and the rocket boots propelled me straight at the wide-open doors of the Vertibird. I shouldered the rifle again, put away the grapnel, and reached back with my cybeic fist...


    <em>Blood on the streets!</em>


    <strong>BAM!</strong>


    My cybeic fist hit him square in the helmet, and his heavily armored form tumbled. He smacked the bulkhead with a crash, and fell headfirst straight out of the open door on the <em>other </em>side of the aircraft. I grabbed hold of the minigun to keep from following him, and the whole twin-rotor helicopter shook and swayed; rm bells of all kinds were sounding off as the pilot desperately tried to maintain control.


    <em>Blood in the sky!</em>


    I pulled Roscoe off my hip, firing it point-nk at the back of the pilot''s head. Blood showered the inside of the windshield and the instrument panel, and his broken aviators bounced around uselessly.


    <em>Blood on the sheets!</em>


    This helicopter was going down fast, so I grabbed hold of the door (which was now <em>above </em>me) and pulled myself free from the tumbling hunk of metal... but not before tossing a grenade in behind me for good measure. I kicked off the edge, and fell back to the ground.


    <em>If you want blood...</em>


    The jets in my boots kicked in enough to keep me from bing a pancake, and I... well, to be honest? I was riding an adrenaline kick and I couldn''t help myself. I hit the ground with my rocket boots and punched the ground with my cybeic hand in a three-pointnding that dented the metal.


    And you know what? Doing that really <strong>is</strong>hard on your knees!


    <em>You got iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!</em>


    The ground shook, my back was pelted by debris, and I was buffeted by a shockwave of wind and heat. If I had to guess, the Vertibird just crashed. I got up and surveyed the carnage, ignoring the exploding Vertibird behind me. I couldn''t see anyone else standing up. Off in the distance, one of the broken robots tried to pick itself up, even though it was just half a head, arms, and a torso.


    <strong>BOOM!</strong>


    The robot exploded, thanks to a familiar sounding shotgun st.


    "We havin'' fun yet?" Cass called out from the opposite end of this... what was it, a courtyard? It definitely wasn''t a hallway, and we were right on the edge of the tank Proving Grounds. Either way she approached me, stepping over several dead Enve troops and reloading her shotgun as she did so. "Why didn''t we do this before?"


    "You do a shell count recently?" I asked. Cass gave a nervous chuckle.


    "Uhh... Yeah. I''m runnin'' a bit low, t''be honest."


    "That''s why."


    Suddenly, the music from above cut out. Cass and I both grabbed our guns, we practically welded our backs to one another, and the two of us started scanning for targets. There was a burst of static over the PA, and an unwee voice sounded off.


    "You must think you''re quite clever, don''t you?" Eden asked, his voice echoing off every surface.


    "No," I shot back without hesitation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cass give me a strange, confused look.


    "You can''t win, mutant."


    There was a burst of static, and the rm xons from before started up again.


    "That egotistical fuck is really startin'' t''piss me off," Cass grumbled.


    "Same here," I said, looking around. I could swear I heard more distant footfalls,ing for us from somewhere... "Look, we''ve got to keep moving. Who knows what else... is..." Hang on, that''s not the sound of footfalls. That is the unmistakable metal grind of a really big door opening up.


    I grit my teeth and turned around. And for the first time, I looked closely and realized what these buildings actually <em>were</em>: garages. It made sense, as we were right next to a <em>tank </em>proving ground. And the pit of my stomach dropped out when I saw one of therger metal roll-up doors slowly grind open.


    That looked way too tall for a tank.


    "Aw, fuck me!" Cass pulled back the charging handle on her AA-12, but I grabbed her by the shoulder, in a gesture that I hoped would convince her to get going.


    "C''mon! C''mon, GO! <strong>GO</strong>!" I shouted, backing up and taking aim with the Jury Rigger one-handed. And then I started swearing internally when I realized something else: those weren''t tank treads. Those were <strong>feet</strong>. And <strong>legs</strong>.


    "<strong>Acknowledged, HQ,</strong>" a deep voice boomed from within the garage. "<strong>Navm locked.</strong>" The door opened fully, revealing this machine to be definitely some sort of walking... robot... <em>thing</em>. Sitting on the two stubby mechanical legs was some sort of metal pod that looked like it wasrge enough to hold a pilot. If nothing else, those ss panels certainly <em>looked</em> like windows. Attached to either side were clunky metal arms that ended in huge metal fists. Mounted underneath each arm were a pair of absolutely <em>massive </em>four-barrel rotary cannons, and those boxes it had for shoulders looked suspiciously like <em>missile pods</em>.


    I backed up, taking aim at its knees with the Jury Rigger. With any luck, I''d be able to disable it... but we all know by now that my luck isn''t that good. Three sts from the energy rifle, and they just seemed to bounce off the metal. No pration, no melted metal, not even so much as a <em>welt </em>appeared from the impact!


    "Oh, for FUCK SAKE!" I yelled, turning on my heel to run. "Give us a fuckin'' break already!"


    "<strong>Engaging,</strong>" the booming voice called out after us, each footfall preceded by a hefty mechanical whirr, followed by a violent crash of metal against metal. And then I heard a ttering buzz of one of the miniguns spinning up.


    "Son of a bitch!" Cass shouted ahead of me. As she ran, she aimed her shotgun at the robot, firing round after exploding round at the damn thing. But the sound was soon drowned out by the thunderous roar of one of the miniguns firing at us.


    "Damnit!" I yelled, just as the jets in my boots kicked in. I practically threw myself at Cass, and she squealed as I picked her up; the two of us spun, propelled forward by the rockets in my boots. I angled my feet, and we ended up crashing to the ground, on the far side of one of the nearby buildings.


    "Goddamnit!" Cass yelled, as I rolled off her. "The fuck is that thing?!" The two of us got back on our feet, albeit unsteadily, but at least we were safe... for the moment. The corner of the building we were hiding behind was getting shredded, with metal and sparks flying everywhere. I could still hear the heavy footfalls of the beast advancing on us. It was only going to be a matter of time.


    "Shiiiiit..." I rasped out, as the two of us kept backing up. "We don''t have near the firepower to kill that thing."


    "What about that Vertibird, earlier?" Cass snapped at me, backhanding me across the chest.


    "The doors were open!" I shot back, my eyes never leaving the building corner that the minigun fire was determined to shred into gravel. "I don''t think that''ll work here!"


    Suddenly, the noises changed again. It stopped stomping. The minigun fire became more erratic, and then stopped altogether. I could still hear the loud mechanical whirring noises, but not the heavy thuds of footfalls, which meant that it was still <em>moving</em>... just not <em>forward</em>.


    "<strong>Assistance required!</strong>" it yelled out. And that sounded promising, if nothing else. So, cautiously at first, I made my way back to the shredded corner to get a look at what was going on. The robot was iling wildly in ce. The top half was spinning around, and the arms were going up and down, in a seemingly random fashion. I figured out what was going on when I saw the darkened shape clinging to the walker''s head: the robot was trying to shake off its <em>unwanted passenger</em>.


    "<em>Tuera?</em>" I said aloud, finally recognizing the shape. Instantly, Cass was on my back, grabbing the edge of the corner and peering around as well.


    "Hang on, what?" she asked. "She''s back?"


    Tuera was hanging onto the top of the robot like she was riding a bucking brahmin, firing her sma rifle into the top. It didn''t seem to be doing much, though, since the machine just kept iling... and it didn''t stop until she flipped around, faced the windows, and fired her sma rifle into <em>that</em>. The ss shattered and exploded outward from the superheated energy, and suddenly the walker stopped moving; all its limbs shuddered and went limp. Without a word, Tuera put her rifle back on her back, grabbed what was left of the window canopy, and tore it off like it was made out of tissue paper.


    "Thanks for the help," I said, finally stepping out from behind the building. Tuera didn''t say anything at first. She just grabbed the b of ground chuck that used to be the walker''s pilot and tossed him aside, getting in the pilot seat herself.


    And then I realized: she wasn''t wearing her helmet. I couldn''t tell for certain from this distance, but it looked like she was rtively banged up.


    "Get moving!" she yelled at us, over the metal grind of the robot re-activating. "More areing! I''ll cover you! Now <strong>GO</strong>!" The robot stomped around, turning in ce just as more garage doors opened.


    "Don''t need t'' tell me twice!" Cass yelled, grabbing my arm. "C''mon!" The two of us broke into a run just as the minigun fire started up again.


    "Damnit..." I muttered. Off to the side, I could see movement. More soldiers were flooding in to try and surround us. "Son of a bitch!" I snapped off a few shots as I ran, but Cass tossed something their way  was it a sma grenade?


    "Keep going!" she yelled, just as the grenade exploded in a bright purple sh. The next thing I knew, that narrow corridor with all the Enve troops was suddenly filled with a cloud of dense purple smoke. It wasn''t much... but hopefully that would cover us long enough to escape.


    ''There!" I shouted, pointing at a nearby open door, and the two of us ducked into it, if only to get out of the open. But when I closed the door behind us, we were surrounded by pitch ck.


    "Hah... huh... Fuck..." Cass muttered, clearly out of breath again. "Fuck, this is... oh man. Was it this bad in the Madre''r th'' Divide?"


    "Half and half, really," I said calmly, blinking my nightvision on so I could find a light switch. "The giant robots are throwing me for a loop, but... hell, I''m just d we don''t have to chop heads off to kill these guys."


    "Oh, right..." Cass chuckled weakly. "I forgot ''bout that..."


    "Yep. Shooting these guys seems to work just fine. And you know what?" I found a breaker box, turned off the nightvision in my eyes, and flipped the switch with a heavy clunk. "I''ll take it." The lights in the ceiling turned on with a louder clunk, followed by a low-frequency buzz.


    "G''damn..." Cass grumbled, shielding her eyes. "Th'' fuck... are..." She trailed off as the two of us suddenly both realized where we were.


    We were in a garage. And sitting in front of us, all pristine, shiny and new  and what''s more, <empletely unguarded</em>  was a <strong>tank</strong>. It was just as big as I was expecting, with heavy armor everywhere and a gigantic cannon on the top. I couldn''t tell if it was a projectile weapon or an energy cannon, but you know what? I didn''t care! It was a fuckin'' <strong>TANK! </strong>And there was no one around to stop us!


    "I got an'' idea," I said, grinning like a maniac under my helmet.


    "Are you thinkin'' what I''m thinkin''?" Cass asked. I turned to face her with a nod, jabbing my thumb at the mammoth metal monster.


    "C''mon. I''m tired of walking."

 Chapter 159: Panzerschreck

    Chapter 159: Panzerschreck


    <em>Brothers and sisters of the Enve! Today, you are the hands that bludgeon! The teeth that bite and tear! You are the beating heart of this great nation  the vital organ that keeps America alive! With your blood, you nourish us all! In truth, I envy you. To fight the enemy of our nation, to face the mutants that infect ournd like a disease... it is an honor we all aspire to! Our g means nothing if not held aloft in the hands of the mighty. And today, it is </em><em><strong>you</strong></em><em> who now carry it!</em>


    "You strapped in back there?" I called out over my shoulder. My voice seemed strangely muffled by the metal cocoon surrounding me. I was expecting more of an echo.


    "Cocked, locked, and ready to fuck shit up!" Cass yelled back at me from the gunner chair. "So, d''ya really know how to drive one of these things?"


    "Oh, yeah!" I said, settling back into the driver seat, and grabbing hold of the two levers sticking out of the floor between my legs. "I mean, it''s not a Corvega in here, but it''ll be like driving a bulldozer!"


    "... You know how t''drive a bulldozer?"


    "Absolutey!" I yelled back. "I had a job in construction, ''bout ten years ago! This''ll be a cinch!"


    I hoped, I didn''t say aloud. Truth be told, it did seem quite a bit more high-tech andplicated than thest bulldozer I drove. There were a whole lot more screens and buttons than a bulldozer, certainly. And the only <em>actual</em> window looking outside was a periscope roughly the size and shape of a mail slot. But if I was reading all thesebels correctly, then these screens in front of me were connected to cameras mounted on the hull. There also appeared to be a dedicated tactical map,plete with radar  like the motion tracker on my helmets HUD, only <em>better</em>  and... was that some kind of radio?


    Wait a minute, I <em>know</em> what that is!


    "You know, I just thought of something," Cass had to shout, since I''d just fired up the tank, and everything started to shake. The engine sounded like amplified thunder in here! "Tuera''s out there in that giant robot suit, fucking shit up, right?"


    "I believe so, yes!" I shouted back, turning on the cameras, one by one. The screens winked on, giving me a panoramic  and, surprisingly enough, <em>full color </em> view of the garage. Tactical readouts winked into life, showing outlines of soldiers just behind the wall  like the IFF spotter disy in my helmet, only <em>vastly </em>more powerful. I turned to themunication panel, and started tracking the signals that appeared on the radar, trying to find the one I wanted.


    "How will she know not to fuck US up?" she yelled at me.


    "Way ahead of you on that one!" I said with a thumbs-up. I found the signal I was looking for, and the radio screen started shing the words <strong>CONNECTING...</strong> "Tuera! You readin'' me?" As if on cue, Tuera''s face appeared (also in full color), and I couldn''t help but nch slightly; a long trail of blood was sttered on the left side of her face, leaking out from a deep gash on her forehead. She did a double take, and stared at the screen with surprise and confusion.


    "<em>Sheason</em>?" There was a sh from somewhere that lit up her face, and she ducked slightly before dividing her attention between the monitor and piloting the mech. "What are you... how did you get on this frequency? How''d you <em>find </em>it?!"


    "We found a tank!" I yelled back at her, and she looked even more confused. "Lock onto this signal, and <strong>don''t</strong> kill us!" I looked back over my shoulder. "Hey, Cass? You wanna know something? I don''t like the way that wall is lookin'' at us!"


    "GO FOR KILL!" Cass shouted back with augh. I settled back in the chair, put the tank in gear, made sure the levers were pulled back fully, and revved the engine. The whole tank rumbled violently, like a wild animal in a cage... snarling and ready to pounce.


    That''s about when Cass fired the main gun.


    Even muffled by the armor of the tank, it threatened to blow out my eardrums. It sounded like a smaller version of the sma cannon st the Mega-Patriot fired earlier. The image on the monitors in front of me flickered and distorted from the shockwave. Within seconds the door was reduced to rubble, fire, and a massive cloud of smoke. And if the disappearing red outlines were any indication, quite a few troops were taken out in that st as well.


    "LET''S GO!" I shouted, leaning forward on the two control levers; immediately, I was thrown back into the chair by the tank lurching forward, up and over the rubble, and straight through the fire like it was nothing. The speed itself wasn''t really all that <em>fast</em>, like in my Corvega... it was just <em>immediate</em>.


    And speaking of immediate: once we cleared the smoke and fire, I could see a cluster of power armored soldiers in front of us, apanied by more robots. Some of them were backing up, firing their weapons at us, and I could hear the soft plinks and ptangs of sma weapons bouncing harmlessly off the hull. But there was at least <em>one</em> cluster of infantry, right in front of us, trying in vain to run away.


    I want to say they were arranged like bowling pins, but maybe that was just a trick of the light.


    Thuump. Ta-thump-thmp. Thum-ump. Thump.


    The tank didn''t even slow down, and the only impacts I felt from the bulky power-armored soldiers I was running over barely seemed to register as <em>speed bumps</em>.


    "The fuck was that?" Cass yelled at me.


    "Seven-ten split!" I called back. Ahead of us, I could see the rolling hills and ruined buildings of the tank Proving Ground. Moving amid the ruined concrete frames of bombed-out structure used as target practice, I could see... "Eyes front! Infantry on the way!" As I spoke, several of the robots turned their weapons on us, sending a volley of sma bolts our way. It sounded like we were being hit by pebbles.


    "Got it!" Behind me, I could hear the heavy grind of metal on metal as the turret moved. It looked like the ''infantry'' was mostly robots, but they still tried to scatter. A beam of bright blue energynced out from the top of the screen, shaking the tank with the recoil. The beam hit the base of the structure; the ground exploded, sending robots and bits of ming concrete a good twenty or thirty feet into the air. It was like the whole hill had been covered in C4!


    "FUCKIN'' HELL!" Cassughed raucously, angling the turret again. "I have gotta get me one''a THESE! Ha-haa!"


    I looked down at the tactical map, and saw several markings off to our right. A couple of triangles, and at least two squares... The dozens of small dots were infantry, I''d figured out that much already. But I couldn''t tell what the others were, because there was no key. Only one way to find out...


    "Hang on to something!" I yelled. I pulled back on the right lever, and the whole tank lurched to the right. Although, ''pivot'' is probably a more urate word for what happened. This thing could turn on a fuckin'' cap! I could probably get this thing to tap-dance if I really wanted.


    Right, focus, you idiot. I pushed forward on the stick just as soon as the enemy vehicles came into view, and the tank heaved forward again. There were at least four tanks and two of thosebat walkers. That meant triangles were tanks, squares were mechs. The tanks seemed smaller than the one we were in, but only just. The walker on the left made a charge for the walker on the right, using one of its arms to deflect the hail of iing mingun fire.


    "There''s Tuera!" I shouted. She shoulder checked her big robot straight into the other mech, knocking it over with a crash... but that left her open to attack from one of the other tanks. "Cover the rear! Hit that son of a bitch behind her!"


    "Firing!" Cass shouted. The tank behind Tuera was stationary, angling its turret to get the best shot... and then it was hit by a giant beam of light. The st hit the side of the hull, right under the turret, sending up a shower of sparks and superheated sma. Impressive, but I couldn''t tell if we''d killed it or not.


    "Hit him again!" I shouted, slowing us down to give Cass a better shot. Smoke and fire was pouring from the side of the tank where we''d hit it, but the turret was definitely still moving...


    "Take it!" Cass shouted back. Another streak of white lightning hit the tank dead-on. The turret was engulfed in sma fire; the next thing I knew, the whole damn turret popped off, crashing off to the side in a shower of molten metal and fire. Every orifice on the tank was belching green fire and smoke. "Fuck yeah! Smoked ''im!"


    Meanwhile, Tuera seemed to be having an easier time of it than us: after knocking over the other walker, she maneuvered her mech over to one of the tanks, grabbed the front of it, and <em>flipped the bitch</em>! It teetered unsteadily on its back armor for a few seconds, treads spinning furiously, before it toppled upside down  straight onto the <em>other </em>tank.


    "You need to keep moving," I heard Tuera''s voice through the radio, as she turned around and approached us in her mech. She certainly looked awfully exposed, sitting in that thing with no harness or seatbelt, no cockpit canopy, and nothing to stop anyone from taking any pot shots at her. "Go straight up the middle, through the proving ground. I''ll cover your nks."


    "Got it," I nodded, nced at the radar, and turned back to Cass. "Get ready! More infantry behind us!" I yanked back on the left stick, and we pivoted again, spinning the tank a full 180-degrees before pushing both levers forward and setting off again. The plinking sounds of sma fire echoed off the hull as we turned around, and didn''t stop when the soldiers finally came into view.


    "Eat this!" The tank shuddered from Cass firing the big gun while I kept us on the straight and narrow. The energy beam reduced a pair of Enve troops that didn''t get out of the way fast enough into a fine mist, and took out several more when it hit the wall of a ruined building and sent white-hot sma raining down everywhere. The wall in front of us started to crumble, and I gunned the engine. The tank smashed headfirst through the rubble, but it turned out there was a huge drop I hadn''t been expecting on the other side.


    "Oh, fuck! BRACE!" I yelled, trying desperately to follow my own advice. Given that we were in a tank that must have weighed about 170 bazillion tons, I was expecting the whole thing to just go ''clunk'' and drop off the edge immediately in a huge crash of twisting metal. But instead, we kept going straight and level, long after I thought we should have dropped. And then: CRASH! The tank smashed against the side of the cliff, like we were attached to a hinge, and the next thing I knew, the tank was driving <em>straight down</em> a nearly vertical incline.


    "Jesus, man!" Cass yelled at me when the tank leveled out with <em>another </em>crash. "Take it easy!"


    "No time!" I nced back down at the radar. "Two more tanks,ing in from the right!"


    "On it!" She called back. I could hear the turret moving  and firing  again, and I desperately tried to get my bearings. But before I could, the ground ahead of us exploded.


    "SON OF A " I tried to go around, but I was toote. The tank plowed straight through the expanding ball of sma and debris. A few warnings on the monitors started blinking and yelling at me, but we <em>did</em> manage toe out the other side. I think. The dust and smoke had be <em>very </em>thick.


    And still the tank charged forward.


    "On the left!" Tuera''s voice barked in my headset. Sure enough, I checked the map and saw the icon for Tuera''s mech, moving behind us, heading straight for <em>another</em> tanking for us from the left. I couldn''t see the markers for the other two tanks on our right, which probably meant Cass got them. Hopefully.


    "Eyes up!" I yelled, trying to maneuver us into a better firing position. Enough of the smoke cleared, and the tank ahead of us seemed to materialize out of thin air. The barrel didn''t need to move. It was aimed squarely at us. "FUCK!" I mmed us in reverse, trying to get out of the way. Behind me, I could hear the mechanical grind of the turret straining to move into position...


    The whole tank shook, almost as much as it had from falling down the cliff. More warning xons screeched, and a wireframe of the tank appeared at the edge of the rightmost screen, showing arge chunk of the right side of the tank covered in red dots. And as bad as it was, when I looked up I realized: it could''ve been a lot <em>worse</em>. Tuera''s mech was holding onto the barrel of the enemy tank in front of us with its gigantic metal hands, and I realized that she had <em>shoved</em> the barrel off target.


    "Hit him!" Tuera yelled at me through the radio. "Hit him now!" While she spoke, she grabbed the front of the tank with the mech''s free hand, and tilted it up like the other tank from before  exposing the soft, lightly armored underbelly. She held it in ce with the right hand and turned away, shooting at another target with the minigun under the left hand.


    "FUCK YOU!" Cass shouted, and the tank shook again. A white sh of sma hit the enemy tank in a st of molten metal that sted it out of Tuera''s hands. The enemy tank must have flown at least ten or twenty feet away from us, before copsing onto its turret in a ming wreck.


    How much longer could we keep this up? I thought to myself, mming the tank back into drive and gunning the engine. Despite the warnings, the tank was still running. But there were tons of blips on the radar: hordes of infantry, more tanks, and even a few more walkers, all of them closing in on us. And, if I was reading the map right, we were only halfway through the hilly, broken terrain of this tank proving ground.


    "They''re backin'' off!" Cass yelled at me, before firing the big gun again; it felt like she was aiming behind us.


    "Wait, what?" I asked, looking at the map again. "How can you tell?"


    "Well, that''s what it looks like..."


    The tank came to a screeching, shuddering, grinding halt. All the lights in the interior switched off at once, and the engine cut out with a cough. Apart from the minimal lighting from the periscopes, we were doused pretty much in pitch darkness. The sounds from outside were muffled, and everything inside the tank was unexpectedly still.


    "The fuck?" Cass asked, still yelling; her voice echoed in the suddenly still tank.


    "What happened?" I asked aloud, the bottom of my gut falling out. I tried flipping some of the switches, but... everything was dead. "I didn''t..."


    The radio switched on with a burst of static.


    "You didn''t think it would be that easy, did you?" Eden''s voice sent chills up my spine.


    "What the fuck?!" Cass yelled. Clearly, she''d heard him, too. "The fuck is he doin'' in here?!"


    A series of clunks reverberated through the tank, and the engine fired up again. The monitors were flickering, but weren''t showing me anything except a loading progress bar... and that was very worrying, since I heard (and felt) a very loud boom somewhere ahead of us. What was that, an explosion? I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead underneath my helmet as I grabbed the periscope and looked through the tiny mail slot.


    There was a cloud of dust ahead of us with a vaguely humanoid shape somewhere inside, looking out with a pair of yellow eyes, glowing menacingly. I couldn''t make out any details through the dust, but I didn''t need to: it was the silhouette of a walking mountain of a man, wearing a set of huge power armor. In one hand was a ridiculous tower shield, and in the other was an enormous warhammer.


    "FUCK!" I shouted, trying to get the tank to move again. "CASS! TWELVE O''CLOCK!" I hit reverse, and the tank started to go backward, just as Panzer emerged, charging at the tank and closing the gap.


    "Firing!" Cass yelled. The tank shook, and my tiny field of view was filled with a white hot light. I tried to squint away the blinding sh... and watched in horror as the energy hit his tower shield, and he <em>knocked it away</em>! The beam ricocheted off the shield and speared off to the right, exploding a piece of scenery just out of view. Panzer just kept on charging us without even breaking stride.


    <em>What the</em><em><strong>fuck</strong></em>?


    "AGAIN!" I yelled with my foot jammed against the throttle. Fuck sake, why doesn''t this thing have a faster reverse gear?! "HIT HIM AGAIN!"


    The whole world shook... and at the same time, everything <em>stopped</em>. My helmet banged against the metal wall next to me, and I was practically thrown out of the driver seat. When I finally managed to pull myself up to look through the periscope again, I saw the end of the big gun''s barrel bounce past; it had been shearedpletely off. Panzer''s gigantic armored mitts were mped down hard on either side of the tank. I could feel the vibrations of the treads still spinning, trying desperately to move us, but we <em>weren''t moving</em>.


    "Fuck!" Cass shouted. "What the fucking fuck!"


    The whole tank shook again. I was thrown around the inside of the cabin, and suddenly realized just how much like a coffin this driver''s seat was... Fucking hell, he was <em>picking up </em>the tank, and tossing us around like it didn''t weigh anything! Panzer''s deep, bellowingughter started echoing through the tank. I caught another glimpse outside  those were definitely pieces of the <em>treads</em> that Panzer had <em>ripped off</em>.


    "<strong>You can''t get away, mutant!</strong>" Panzer yelled, amid the screech of wrenching metal. I tried to move, but was tossed back into the driver seat again. The metal echoed with impacts, one after another... was he punching the tank or...


    "OUT THE BACK!" I yelled back at Cass, finally figuring out what Panzer was doing. "GO! WE''VE GOTTA BAIL!" I tried getting out of the seat, but the whole tank lurched, and I was thrown back in. The sound of wrenching metal right above my head got worse. I reached behind me, trying to pull the Jury Rigger out of the spot behind me.


    "Shea!" Cass yelled. "What are "


    "FUCK SAKE! JUST GO!" I shouted, scrambling out of the drivers seat. The metal roof above me started to cave in from the impacts. Sparks rained down on my head, and the turret... oh, <em>fuck me</em>! The whole turret was at an angle! He was ripping the fucking thing off the tank!


    "<strong>Come on out, mutie...</strong>" Panzer snarled. There was onest sound of wrenching, twisting metal, and the whole turret above my head came free. Shards of metal and sparks rained down on my head, and suddenly there was nothing separating me from that gigantic metal bastard. He tossed aside the turret, and picked up his warhammer again.


    I didn''t say anything. I had nowhere to go. I didn''t even know if Cass had gotten clear, or what. I just took aim with the Jury Rigger and aimed for Panzer''s face, firing LAER bursts at his helmet again and again. It barely even seemed to stagger him. In desperation, I let go of the end of the Jury-Rigger, grabbed the Alien ster with my now-free hand, and fired them both. The bolts from the alien weapon exploded against the side of his face, showering me with sparks and sma, but...


    "<strong>That won''t work!</strong>" he boomed, tearing open a bigger hole in the tank while half his helmet was <em>still on fire</em>. "<strong>Time to die!</strong>" He lifted his warhammer high over his head, and even though I was still trying desperately to scramble out of the way, I knew that I waspletely and entirely fucked.


    And then, astoundingly, I <em>wasn''t</em>.


    Several explosions hit Panzer in the back. Fire came raining down in torrents all around him. On reflex, I brought up my arms to try and protect myself from the fire and shrapnel. Panzer seemed just as confused as I felt. He turned around, and I used the opportunity while he was distracted to try and <em>get the hell out </em>of this fucking deathtrap. As I tried desperately to escape, I caught a glimpse around Panzer''s massive frame:


    Off in the distance I could see Tuera''s mech, smoke pouring from the now empty shoulder-mounted missile pods.


    "<strong>YOU TRAITOR!</strong>" Panzer yelled, smashing his warhammer against his shield with a deafening bang. "<strong>YOU FILTH!</strong>" With thatst outburst, he started stomping away, charging forward at Tuera''s walker while <em>she</em> charged at <em>him</em>.


    "Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." I muttered frantically, desperately scrambling up and out of the twisted metal sd that used to be a tank. I couldn''t stay here. I had no idea where Cass had disappeared to. I just watched in dumbstruck horror as the two giants behind me started beating the shit out of each other. Then, while Tuera''s mech mmed a fist straight into Panzer''s face, sending him hurtling to the ground, I heard a voice through my headset:


    "Shea!" Tuera yelled at me, her transmission intercut with bursts of static. "GO!"


    So I ran.


    I couldn''t think about what I was doing. I just ran as fast as I could across the pock-marked and broken ground, away from the wrecked tank. The rumble of more tanks and the thuds of dozens  maybe <em>hundreds</em>  of boots behind me kept getting closer. Ahead of me I could see a series of bombed out concrete structures, that looked like they''d been used for target practice. It wasn''t much, but it was better than nothing.


    "There he is!" I head a voice yell behind me. "All units, engage!"


    "FUCK!" I dove through a window frame just as the air was filled with flying sma. Broken pieces of concrete rained down on my back. I rolled onto my hands and knees, keeping as low as I could while I tried to crawl away.


    A high pitched whistling from high above my head grew louder and louder. At first, I didn''t want to believe what I was hearing: thest time I''d heard a sound like that was from the first time I tried to enter Nellis.


    Within seconds, I was back on my feet, activating the jets in my rocket boots. If the Enve had my position targeted with artillery, then I needed to be somece else as quick as I could. I careened through the air just as the first of the massive explosions tore up the ground behind me. sma bursts were streaking through the sky all around and


    There was a sudden bang next to my foot that threw me off bnce. The next thing I knew, I was spinning through the air, wildly out of control. I couldn''t see where I was headed or what the fuck was going on; I just heard the explosions from more artillery ripping up the ce, the sizzle of sma streaking through sky all around me, and the rush of wind sting past my helmet.


    I mmed back-first into the ground, tumbling end over end across the ruttedndscape several times before copsing in a heap of aching, screaming body parts. The armor I was wearing must have taken the worst of it, since it didn''t <em>feel </em>like I had any broken bones... but it was still a hell of an impact. My head was spinning, and I could barely see. I groaned and strained, pushing up off the ground to try and figure out where I was and what the fuck had just happened...


    Off in the distance I could still see the explosions from artillery chewing up the scenery, and intermittent bursts of bright blue sma were streaking through the sky. The rocket boot on my left foot was sparking violently and belching smoke. One of those assholes must have clipped me while I was flying through the air, desperately trying to get away from the big fuck-off artillery strikes.


    "Shiiiiit..." I wheezed out through gritted teeth, reaching down to unhook the rocket boots. "Sonuva bitch..." I tossed aside the useless, melted metal, and tried scrambling to my feet... but my knees gave out, and I copsed against the side of the concrete wall I''dnded next to. "Fer fuck sake..." The ground shook from another round of artillery, and I could see figures appear over the other side of the ridge. I gripped the Jury Rigger tightly, taking aim...


    A hand came out of nowhere, grabbing me from behind, and pulled me onto the other side of the concrete wall. I felt  rather than saw  a pair of arms and legs wrap around me. I yelped in confusion, and an unseen figure shushed me seconds before a rainbow miasma enveloped my body.


    "Shut up fer a minute..." a voice hissed at me, and I unexpectedly disappeared.


    "Cass?" I asked in confusion. Of course it was Cass. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.


    "Don''t worry!" Sue squeaked from somewhere near my ear. "We''ll keep you hidden!"


    I nodded (uselessly) and tried to catch my breath. The ground shook from heavy footfalls, and the shadows from several power armored soldiers moved past us on the other side of the broken concrete wall.


    "He can''t have gone far!" one of them barked. "Spread out and find him!" The boots just kept stomping, and the soldiers just kepting. One of them looked on this side of the wall, sma rifle at the ready. Cass and I kept deathly still; he was practically close enough to <em>trip</em> over us... but after scanning the area, he turned on his heel, and moved off, apparently satisfied that nothing was here.


    "We''ve gotta keep movin''..." Cass whispered at me as soon as the footfalls became more and more distant.


    "That''s my line," I grunted back softly. There was a rainbow shimmer, and the two of us appeared. "Thanks for the save."


    "C''mon," Cass grabbed me by the shoulder, urging me forward. "There are some trenches over here. I think we can use ''em to escape."


    The two of us kept low, trying to keep out of sight. To be honest, it wasn''t really a trench so much as a deep ditch that we were moving through. On the plus side, we didn''t have to keep that quiet anymore, because a column of tanks was rolling past, causing all sorts of racket. But on the downside, that meant the <em>fucking tanks </em>were here.


    "Fuckin'' hell..." I muttered, following Cass. "Where to?"


    "Th'' fuck y''askin'' me fer?" Cass snapped. "You''ve got th'' fuckin'' map!"


    I cursed under my breath, and the two of us ducked further down out of sight. Another squad of infantry was passing close by, marching in the tracks left by the tank they were following.


    "We should be close," I whispered, checking the map on my Pip Boy. "If we keep moving, I think we''ll make it. Just so long as there aren''t any more surp "


    A building on the edge of the proving ground to the left of us exploded. Cass and I both dropped to the ground immediately, and I cursed my big fat mouth for tempting fate the way I did. Was it more artillery? It didn''t sound like it. I hadn''t heard any whistling beforehand. I looked up, and realized that the wall wasn''t really <em>exploding</em>; it was <em>copsing</em>, thanks to something extraordinarily huge smashing through it. Because both the wall and whatever was crashing <em>through</em> it were so huge and so far distant, it was almost like everything was happening in slow motion


    "Oh, fuck!" I rasped out. "It''s <em>Liberty Prime</em>!" I hadn''t expected to see <em>him </em>again. But there he was, in the middle of the rapidly disintegrating wall, tumbling out in a shower of shredded metal, fire, giant limbs, and sparks. Unfortunately, he was crashing through the wall both <em>headfirst</em> and <em>sideways</em>.


    That wasn''t a good sign.


    "C''mon!" I growled at Cass as she looked up, grabbing her by the shoulder to try and get her moving. "C''mon, we can use the distraction to cover our escape!"


    The giant robot toppled into the proving ground with an almighty crash, shaking everything around with the force of an earthquake. It was hard to tell through all the fire and smoke, but I was certain Prime had seen better days. One side of his head had been ripped open, his left leg looked torn up below the knee, and almost every panel that I could see was either dented, scratched, or missing. The broken remnant of the sword was sticking out of his left arm in pieces.


    And then theughter started.


    "<em><strong>YOU''RE A RELIC, PRIME!</strong></em>" The voice of the Mega-Patriot bellowed from the darkness. The <em>other </em>giant robot emerged, and stood over Prime, gnashing a mouth full of sharp, metal teeth. He wasn''t nearly as beat up as Liberty Prime, but the sma cannon was nowhere in sight, at least. "<em><strong>NOTHING MORE THAN AN OBSOLETE BUCKET OF BOLTS!</strong></em>" Prime tried to pick himself up off the ground, but was kicked back down by the Patriot''s massive metal foot; everything shook and rocked again, like a ship in stormy seas. "<em><strong>JUST MAKE IT EASY ON YOURSELF...</strong></em>" The Patriot reached back with a metal fist. "<em><strong>...AND SUBMIT!</strong></em>"


    The Patriot startedughing, and all four of its eyes started glowing a malevolent red. When the fist came down, aimed squarely at Liberty Prime''s head, the image of a meteor hurtling towards Earth seemed disturbingly appropriate.


    <strong>CLANG!</strong>


    That''s about when I realized Liberty Prime was down, but not out: he''d reached up and grabbed the Patriot''s fist mid-swing, bringing it to a dead stop. Prime pulled himself back up, amid a whirring of servos and a shower of sparks, while the Patriot looked on in anger and confusion.


    "<strong>I... COULD DO THIS... ALL... DAY!</strong>"


    With a single punch, Prime sent the Mega-Patriot flying into another building. The other robot howled and snarled, while Prime just stood there shakily, both fists raised and at the ready.


    "<em><strong>WHY THROW AWAY YOUR LIFE SO RECKLESSLY, PRIME?!</strong></em>" The Patriot bellowed, pushing off against the halfway copsed building, destroying it further. He threw another punch at Liberty Prime, but Prime sidestepped the swing (amid a hail of sparks from every one of his joints), and countered with an uppercut. I half expected the Patriot''s head to pop off, but it just sent him crashing to the ground.


    "<strong>THAT''S A QUESTION YOU SHOULD ASK YOURSELF!</strong>" Prime tried to follow up with another blow, but the Mega-Patriot roared and lunged at Prime, wrapping itself around Prime''s midsection. There was a flurry of iling metal limbs, and the two robots disappeared back the way they came, into the darkness of the rest of the facility. Hurriedly, the infantry and tanks all seemed to follow suit, chasing after the two giant robots as they tried to rip each other to pieces.


    And while the army was distracted, Cass and I slipped away undetected.

 Chapter 160: Cut Off One Head

    Chapter 160: Cut Off One Head


    <em>We stand now at the dawn of a new era - at the very precipice of destiny! The Enve built America up from nothing, and our sweat and blood is as much a part of the United States as the air we breathe! And yet, despite all our efforts, our once great nation is still polluted, my brothers and sisters! Tainted by foul mutants, murderers, and deviants without number! They trespass on our beloved American soil, and they think they can do so without consequence? They are either fools or madmen! That is why, my brothers and sisters, we shall soon fight with renewed strength, and reim our sacred ground! We shall wipe the te </em><em><strong>clean</strong></em><em>! And once the filth has been washed away, we shall return our beloved America into its rightful ce as the greatest nation on Earth!</em>


    "I think we lost them..." I said, the visor of my helmet pressed up against the metal grate. "For now, at least."


    It had been <em>maybe</em> an hour since we saw Prime and the Patriot trading blows and used them to cover our escape. I honestly wasn''t sure, because it was surprisingly difficult to keep track of time on the Moon. However long it was, the time had been quite harrowing. Every time an Enve patrol found us, we''d fight them off briefly, escape, and just when I thought we''d given them the slip, <em>another </em>patrol would appear.


    The only reason our current surroundings seemed rtively safe was because it was <em>physically </em>too small for them to get inside. Thanks to Sue''s therm-optic camouge, Cass and I had managed to duck into... well, quite frankly, I''m not sure <em>where </em>we were. Part of me  the part that had seen too many action holotapes  wanted to say it was an air duct, but I''m pretty sure it wasn''t <em>that</em>. It was probably something like a maintenance hallway; a way to service systems on this Moon base between decks.


    Whatever it was, there was barely room to crouch, much less stand up, but on the plus side at least three patrols had passed us by so far without any of them pausing to check. We''d been making so much noise and causing so many explosions, I don''t think they expected us to try a sneaky approach.


    We couldn''t stay here forever. We still had a job to do, and we had <em>maybe</em> five minutes before they wised up and figured out where we''d gone.


    But that was five minutes the two of us desperately needed.


    "Fuckin'' hell..." Cass muttered, slumped against the wall with her AA-12 in herp "These fucks just don''t give up, do they?"


    "Well, it <em>is </em>their home turf," I said, still keeping watch through the ess grate. "I think I''d be insulted if they didn''t at least put some effort in."


    "Jesus Christ, dude!" Cass finally muttered with her head in her hands. "Would you fuckin'' <strong>sit down</strong> for a minute? You''ve gotta be fuckin'' exhausted!"


    "I''m fine," I lied. Cass shook her head and chuckled grimly.


    "Fuck sake, man. How th'' fuck''re you even still <em>standin''</em>?" she asked.


    "Because there''s still a job to do..." I said. "And there''s no one else." Cass grumbled again, and reached behind her for something.


    "You crazy sumbitch, I swear..." I looked down and realized she was unscrewing the cap on... oh fuck.


    "You brought your sk?" I asked, a bit needlessly. It was obviously her sk; even in the dim light, I could see the indentations from the rose picture engraved on the metal. She shrugged, pausing just before bringing it to her lips.


    "Yeah, well..." Cass let out a single weakugh, and lowered the sk. "I''ve kept this filled since ah gave up whisky. Y''know... just in case things ever got bad ''nuff. An''... well... we''re fightin'' space Nazis on th'' Moon, with no hope''ve gettin'' back t''Earth. At this point, who really gives a fuck, right?" She chuckled again, and raised her sk at me in a toast. "Cheers." Cautiously, I reached out and grabbed her hand softly before she got the chance to drink; she looked up at me with a curious eyebrow.


    "Tell you what," I said, kneeling down in front of her. "I''ll sit down for a drink with you, if there''s enough in that to share." Cass smiled and nodded, setting the sk down to help me with my helmet.


    "Fuck yeah, now yer talkin''!" I unclipped my helmet, and she grabbed it on either side to pull my helmet free. I let out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit my face like a ssh of ice water... but the really shocking thing came when I opened my eyes, and saw Cass looking at me in horror.


    "Holy shit! Yer bleedin'' man!" She reached out to grab my face in concern, while I just sat there like a lemon, utterly bewildered.


    "I am?" I asked honestly. "Hadn''t noticed. Here." I reached behind me and pulled out my medkit, handing it to Cass. The leather pouch I''d gotten from Doc Mitchell was certainly starting to look a little care-worn from all its use. She opened it up, grabbed some gauze... and then picked up her sk. She looked at it mournfully for a second before letting out a sigh and dousing the gauze in alcohol.


    Shit, this was gonna hurt, wasn''t it?


    "Ah, fuck," Cass said, dabbing the side of my face with the booze-soaked gaAAUGH FUCK! Yep, I was right, that really stings. But I just grit my teeth and kept quiet. "I think y''broke open that same cut y''got from that rooftop fight with Tuera a week ago. You sure there''s not somethin'' sharp inside yer helmet?"


    I didn''t answer, because a horrible realization had just hit me like a .45 slug to the back of my skull. I hadn''t had a chance to stop and think about it, since the two of us had been running for our lives for thest hour. But now that we had finally stopped?


    "<em>Shea! GO!"</em>


    Tuera''s words echoed in my head. Immediately, there was a part of my brain that was trying to rationalize leaving Tuera behind. At the time, all I''d been thinking about was just getting the fuck away. Nothing in my arsenal even seemed to faze Panzer; hell, the Alien ster had <em>disintegrated </em>people, and he didn''t even seem to <em>notice</em>. Even the <strong>tank</strong> had done fuck-all. What the fuck could I have done if I''d stayed? He would have just turned me into a bloody smear.


    But ever since our chat under the 38, Tuera had been looking for a way to die on her feet. And I''d just left her behind.


    "<em>Shea! GO!"</em>


    A sharp pain shot through my chest and wouldn''t go away... and at the same time, I feltpletely numb. It was like my insides were being eaten from the inside out, and it didn''t take long for me to feel... <em>hollow</em>. I just sat there, stupefied, while Cass saw to mending the wound on my head. I saw her mouth move, but I couldn''t hear what she was saying. Everything was muffled.


    "... what?" I asked softly, trying topose myself.


    Focus. Compartmentalize. You''re not done with the job yet. Work now, guiltter.


    "Y''alright?" Cass'' voice finally snapped into focus.


    "<em>Shea! GO!"</em>


    "Earlier... you said..." I coughed out, trying to will my brain to focus more than anything else. "Do you really think we''re not gonna make it back?" Cass grimaced, continuing to treat the wound on my head.


    "Yeah, well... S''not lookin'' good. Ah did an ammo count b''fore we ducked in here..."


    "And?"


    "I''m down to <em>two</em>," she admitted. I was hoping she didn''t mean what I <em>thought</em> she meant.


    "Mags?" I asked, hopefully. She shook her head.


    "Nope. <em>Shells</em>." She finished tending to my head wound, and slumped back down against the opposite wall. "Ah tell ya, I love this thing," she grabbed her shotgun by the barrel, giving it a shake. "But it burns through ammo like a motherfucker. And with no ammo, I''m kinda fucked, y''know?"


    "No," I grunted, shifting my weight. "You''re not." I shrugged the Jury Rigger into my hands, and then handed it to Cass. "Here. It''ll need to charge up if you use it too often, but this''ll never run out of ammo." Cass looked at the weapon  and me  curiously.


    "Y''sure?" I nodded back at her, urging her to take the rifle. She grabbed hold of it gingerly, and I pulled out the Alien ster, checking to make sure it was loaded.


    "I got plenty of weapons, don''t worry about me. Just be careful when you fire that thing. The LAER setting overprates like nobody''s business  so just make sure I''m <strong>not</strong> behind whatever you''re shooting, alright?" Cass nodded. "The holorifle setting is probably the most like a shotgun. Pulse will fry anything electronic, especially power armor."


    "An'' sonic?" she asked, hefting up the rifle and looking down the sights.


    "That one disables force fields. Haven''t seen any yet, but I wouldn''t put it past that digital fuckhead, so keep on the lookout." I holstered the Alien ster and grabbed the sk that Cass had set down on the floor. "We''re not licked yet. I promise. We''re gonna make it through this."


    "<em>Shea! GO!" </em>


    The words echoed in my head again, and I paused, suddenly wracked by a dizzying wave of guilt. Next thing I knew, I had the sk to my lips and was pouring the burning amber liquid down my gullet. I gulped hard, and when I pulled the sk away I realized that my hand was shaking. I chuckled grimly, and offered the rest to Cass.


    Cass paused, looking down at the sk, and then up at me. Without a word, she pushed the sk away, took my face in her hands, leaned in to me, and pressed her lips to mine. The two of us lingered there for a few seconds, just... holding each other in that darkened, dusty maintenance tunnel. Reluctantly, she pulled away, her hot breath caressing my cheek.


    "We''ll get through this," I whispered, holding her close.


    "Whatever you say," she replied; the next thing I knew, she was shoving my helmet in my stomach. "C''mon. We''ve gotta go..." I gave her onest smirk before putting my helmet back on and buckling it back in ce. The lenses of my helmet shed, and the heads-up disy returned.


    "Whatever you say..." I repeated.


    About fifteen minutester, Cass and I were hiding in the shadows, near some kind of service elevator. At least, that''s what I assumed "turbolift" meant. Cass was holding the Jury Rigger tightly, and I had my Alien ster drawn and at the ready, but so far we''d been able to avoid any confrontations and keep out of sight.


    If I was reading the map on my Pip Boy right, we needed to use that elevator to get into the lower levels of the base to find the reactor  and a terminal close to Eden''s mainframe. But for the moment, we couldn''t get at it. Several Enve soldiers and at least a dozen robots were milling around, keeping watch.


    "Think we can take ''em?" Cass whispered; I tapped a finger to my helmet''s respirator, and tried to keep her quiet. We could probably fight them off for a while, sure, but that would only draw more attention. And I didn''t think we could afford to have them lock down this elevator... so I hoped we could pull off a stealthy approach. The closest soldier had his back to us, and a pair of fingers pressed to the side of his helmet. He was definitely talking to someone through his helmet radio.


    "Yes sir," the Enve trooper said aloud. "Yes, we think they may be splitting up. We think they''re on levels five and six, now." He paused. "Yes sir, I understand, sir." He grabbed his rifle with both hands and then bellowed: "FIRST SQUAD! On your feet! Tactical column, double time it! C''mon,dies! They ain''t payin'' us by the hour, MOVE!"


    With thunderous military precision, the troops formed up, and started marching away: the power armored infantry in the middle, and the robots guarding the nks. The column of infantry disappeared around a corner, and the heavy thuds of their footfalls got softer and softer, until we couldn''t hear them at all.


    "C''mon," I half-whispered, half-grunted, making my way to the elevator. "Now''s our chance! Go!" I scanned the area, and checked the motion tracker on my HUD. So far, it looked like we were the only things moving nearby. I hit the call button, and immediately a hiss of pressurized gas signaled the doors opening. The inside was a nondescript metal cylinder, and thankfully no one was in it. So Cass and I both backed inside  but with our guns drawn, pointing out the door. Just in case. As soon as we were inside, the doors slid shut.


    "The fuck?" Cass asked aloud, inspecting the buttons next to the door. "The fuck is this?"


    I checked around her shoulder to try and find out what she was talking about. And sure enough, at first nce, the panel looked confusing. It wasn''t set up in symmetrical rows of buttons, arranged in a box like I would''ve expected from an elevator. The two rows of buttons were arranged on either side of a schematic, connected to various points by lines that made it look more like a circuit board than anything else.


    "... I think it''s a cut-away map of the base," I said, tracing a finger across the diagram... and then the bottom of my stomach fell out. If I was reading the scale on this right, then this base was several miles <strong>deep</strong>, as well as several miles <em>wide</em>, and that was all manner of unsettling. I cleared my throat and tried to focus on what was immediately relevant before speaking again. "If these are all destinations, then this thing must be able to travel <em>horizontal</em> as well as <em>vertical</em>."


    "What, like a pneumatic tube?" she asked curiously. I shrugged.


    "Maybe. Sure as hell isn''t gonna be a counterweight with a hoist." I tapped a point at the bottom of the map. "I think... that''s where we need to go." I followed the line with my finger, and hit the button; immediately, the whole thing shook.


    "Well, we''re off..." Cass leaned against the wall, drumming her fingers against the outside of the Jury Rigger. She furrowed her brow, and pointed behind me. "Hang on. S''that a window?"


    I turned around to look at the curved wall behind me. Sure enough, it was made of ss, and the wall was moving behind it; every second or so, a light would go by, from the bottom to the top. At least we were going in the right direction.


    And then we weren''t.


    There was a heavy clunk, and the whole elevator shook violently. The lights in the ceiling flickered, and I realized with a mounting sense of disquiet that we were no longer moving. Cass and I looked around, positioning ourselves back-to-back, both of us with our guns drawn trying to figure out what was going on...


    "You have already lost, <em>mutant</em>," a calm voice spoke through a speaker in the ceiling. "You know that, don''t you?" The venom in his words was almost palpable.


    "<strong>Eden</strong>..." Cass growled unnecessarily. Suddenly, the elevator shook again, and we were moving  but it didn''t feel like the same direction as before.


    Where was he taking us?


    "Big talk from the man whose soldiers I''ve been ughtering all morning!" I said at the ceiling, with a confidence I didn''t actually feel. But there was no need to let <em>him</em> know that. "It''s not even lunch, and I''ve already lost track!"


    He chuckled menacingly. The sound was like ice water dumped on my head, but I stood firm, and gripped my Alien ster tighter.


    "An insignificant loss, shouldered by those who are expendable," Eden said. "You tear into an army of ves, nothing more. Their lives only gain meaning in death, and they know it. They will dly throw themselves upon you to enact my will. For every one of them who falls, <strong>ten more</strong> will take his ce."


    "Then I guess we better find ten more, asshole!" Cass shouted. For a few seconds, Eden didn''t say anything. And then the silence was broken... by a <em>heavy sigh</em>.


    "How long do you really think you can keep on fighting?" he asked, voicing a concern I''d asked myself earlier. "Eventually, you will make a mistake. Or you will run out of ammunition." Next to me, I felt Cass stiffen up. "Or you will sumb to exhaustion. It makes little difference to me <em>how </em>you meet your end. So go ahead. Kill as many of my soldiers as you like. There is "


    The speaker above our heads exploded in a shower of sparks. Smoke curled from the barrel of That Gun, and I lowered it slowly.


    "Fuck sake!" Cass lowered her arms away from her head. "Warn me when yer gonna..."


    "Amusing," Eden''s cut her off, in a voice that betrayed hisck of amusement. "But <strong>pointless</strong>." The sound seemed to surround us,ing from all directions; I couldn''t pinpoint where it wasing from, or even <em>see</em> any of the speakers this time.


    The lights flickered again, momentarily plunging us into darkness. It felt like the elevator altered its course, and the view outside the window changed yet again.


    "What is..." Cass trailed off as she moved to the window and looked out. I couldn''t help but follow. This ce kept throwing curveballs, and the view outside the curved elevator window was no exception.


    The space beyond was vast, like the pseudo-cityscape in the levels above us. I couldn''t see the end of it; it just seemed to go on and on forever, receding off into the darkness. Filling this cavernous chamber were row after row, shelf after shelf of some kind of strange cylindrical ss tubes. Each one of the vat-like tubes was filled with a glowing green liquid and... oh shit, there were <em>bodies </em>inside each one! There were so many of them, I couldn''t possibly hope to count them all. Dozens? Hundreds? <em>Thousands</em>? Like the room they upied, they just seemed to go on forever. Machinery and people buzzed around everything, like insects tending to the inner workings of an enormous hive.


    "Holy shit..." Cass muttered, pressing a hand against the ss. She looked as worried as I felt.


    "This... this must be where they grow the clones..." I said aloud.


    "Only one of <strong>ten </strong>gestation facilities we have within Lunar Station Enve," Eden corrected. My eyes went wide and the bottom of my stomach fell out again. But he wasn''t finished. "<strong>Now</strong> do you understand? Do you now see the futility of rising up against me, and the utter foolishness of trying to defeat <strong>America</strong>?"


    "There''s just... so <em>many</em>..." Cass'' voice was starting to waver. Frankly, I couldn''t me her.


    "Do you feel it, mutant? Do you feel that sensation, taking hold of you now?" Eden kept on gloating. But while he talked, I was busy trying to figure out an exit. "That is your only reward, and the fate of <strong>all</strong> who dare stand against the might of America: <em>absolute despair</em>. The silent chill of the grave is all that awaits you. We shall cleanse the world of your filth, and your pathetic resistance shall be <strong>forgotten</strong>. Your <strong>deaths</strong> will be for <strong>nothing</strong>!"


    I pressed the barrel of the Alien ster against the ss; Cass noticed what I was doing, and (very sensibly) stepped away and took cover behind me.


    "You talk too much."


    There was a bright sh, a belch of ozone, and the ss exploded outward in a shower of superheated vapor. I grabbed Cass by the waist and held her close, whispering to her: "Grab hold of me." In a single motion, I holstered the Alien ster and pulled out the grapnel gun.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    Cass and I sailed through the air, away from the elevator. All around us, sirens and warning xons sounded. In the background I could still hear Eden''s voice, booming now as it echoed throughout the cavernous chamber.


    "You only dy the inevitable."


    "This is all your fault!" Cass yelled, sending a trio of LAER bursts down the corridor. The beams sliced into several robots each and bits of shredded metal went tumbling off in every direction.


    "<strong>My</strong> fault?!" I had to duck as a cluster of blue sma streaked through the air just over my head. I returned fire with a pair of energy bolts from the Alien ster, and the two power armored soldiers closest to us exploded into a cloud of vapor. "How could it be <strong>my</strong> fault?"


    "We were almost clear, and y''just <em>had </em>t''drop that grenade on our way out th'' clone chambers, didn''t ya?" She yelled. A pair of robots started running at our cover; I heard a heavy clunk and suddenly a cluster of blue holographic cubes hit them like a wall, sending them flying.


    "They were on top of us anyway!" I yelled, sending another pair of energy bolts down the hall. "And all those exploding clone tanks would''ve covered our escape, if <strong>you</strong> had just kept quiet!"


    "Don''t you <strong>dare</strong> try pinnin'' this on me!" There was another clunk, and one of the robots suddenly found itself without a head after being hit by a particrlyrge cube. It tumbled end over end into the other soldiers at the end of the hall. I pulled out a sma grenade  my veryst one  primed it, and tossed it. The entire end of the hall erupted in green fire. When the dust settled, everything was quiet. Convinced that no one else was going to shoot at me, I stepped out of cover.


    "Look, let''s not get bogged down with who did what to who..." I began.


    "Well, no, cuz you did all''ve it," Cass stood up, with augh and a smile to let me know she didn''t mean it. Hopefully.


    "Never mind that. We''ve gotta get out of here before more troops arrive." As if on cue, I heard more stomping of heavy boots off in the distance, getting closer. "Oh yeah, it''s time to go! C''mon!"


    And with that, the two of us set off running. I had a... vague idea of where we were going. I think. To be honest, it was really hard to double check a map while under fire.


    As we ran, I tried to figure out how much ammo I had left for the Alien ster. I''d already used 3 power cells, and the one still loaded had about two shots left. Subtracting that from the ammo Chris gave me, which meant... 62 shots left. My first thought was that I could make that work. And then an image of numberless rows of clones sank into my brain, hammered home by the swiftly approaching sound of boots behind us...


    Fuck it. At least my arm will never run out of ammo.


    "There they are!" A voice yelled out to our left. "Stop th " He exploded into a cloud of blue vapor, as did the soldier next to him.


    "GO!" I yelled, urging Cass forward while I popped out the spent energy cell. By the time it ttered to the floor, we were already turning the next corner. Maybe I was hearing things, but I could swear I heard the ss crack when it was stomped on by so many boots giving chase.


    "Damnit, where did theye from!?" Cass turned as she ran, snapping off a few shots behind her.


    "Where do you think?" I fired again, but didn''t bother to check if I''d hit anything. That would''ve taken too much time. The two of us kept running, making our way through the twisting, winding corridors, until suddenly:


    "Ah, FUCK!" Cass shouted. The two of us came to a stop as we realized where we were: a dead end. It seemed like a storage room of some kind, just without any storage. No way out of this empty room except the way we came, and we definitely couldn''t go <em>that </em>way, because who <strong>knows</strong> how many soldiers were bearing down on us right now? "I me you fer this!"


    "What?!" I asked indignantly, leveling the Alien ster back the way we came and pulling out That Gun as well. "How is this <em>my</em> fault?"


    "Yer th'' one with th'' fuckin'' map!" Cass shot back, leveling the Jury Rigger at the entrance as well. The stomping sound of boots was getting closer, but also seemed to slow down; they must have figured out they had us boxed in, and could take their time.


    I didn''t know if that made it better or worse, but as it happened? We didn''t find out either way.


    The wall behind us exploded unexpectedly, pelting the two of us with debris; neither of us had time to react, but none of the chunks seemed to cause any kind of harm. Hell, it seemed to do more damage to the <em>lighting </em>than us, because most of the ceiling bulbs flickered and exploded, showering us with phosphor.


    "What the " I had both my guns instantly trained on the new opening, but soon brought myself to a halt. The massive figure silhouetted against the new, rough opening was definitely wearing power armor, but it wasn''t the horned-sort with ominously glowing eyes like the Enve was wearing. And when I saw the green glow from the big fucking gun he was carrying, I realized we might actually make it out of this.


    "Get down." Chris said simply, leveling his huge weapon.


    "What is " Cass didn''t finish, because I was diving for the floor, grabbing her on the way down and doing my best to shield her with myself. For some reason I was reminded of The Divide, and how I''d grabbed hold of ED-E before taking cover from the nuclear st. Chris stomped forward twice so he could stand directly over us, the gun whined as it charged up, and then...


    There was noise, heat, and a small earthquake all at once. It only took a second, but a second was all it needed to feel like a bomb just went off.


    "Are you two okay?" Chris asked, genuine concern seeping into his voice. I rolled off Cass, and helped her up; Chris was already offering one of his mechanical power armor hands, and Cass took it dly, getting back on her feet. I pushed off the ground and followed suit.


    "Fine," I said, surveying the carnage and dusting myself off. Cass, meanwhile, let out a long low whistle as she looked back. "Never better." Chris'' big fucking gun had blown quite the hole in the wall. And the floor. And the ceiling. Almost everything beyond where we''d dove to the floor was either melting orpletely gone, and the damage went on in a vaguely cone-like shape for... quite a while. It must have taken out the troops giving us chase, because I couldn''t hear any more of them following us.


    That said, how would they be <em>able </em>to? Most of the floor was reduced to molten, melted g.


    "Thanks fer th'' save," she said, patting Chris on the side of his armor. Now that the dust had settled, I could see that it was no longer purely bone-white. Most of it looked like ours: dirty, dusty, marred, and asionally flecked with sttered blood and intermittent sma sh burns.


    "Don''t mention it!" he saidpletely casual, like he was beingplimented about a softball pitch. "I''m just d I got here before things got too exciting. If you''ll pardon the pun."


    Cass and I both stared at him curiously for a few seconds. The only sound any of us heard was the slowly creaking embers of the rapidly cooling metal behind us.


    "What pun?" I finally asked. Chris cocked his head to the side.


    "Oh, wasn''t there one? I''m sorry." He lifted up his big fucking gun again, motioned with his head for us to follow, and turned on his heel to go back through the crumbling wall. "C''mon, I think I''ve found a way to the reactor."


    And then there were three.

 Chapter 161: Evil Empires End

    Chapter 161: Evil Empire''s End


    <em>The Enve have always been resilient. We toil, while the mutants polluting our great nation do nothing but bicker andin and fight among themselves like the rabid animals they are! We persevere when all others give up! And when evil stares us in the eyes: we stare right back! THAT is who we are! Our fathers fought and died for the Enve - for America! - and we can do no less! We are the Enve! It is a name that strikes fear into the hearts of all who would oppose us! We are not the monsters that they im, but to all those who dare trespass on our beloved America, we will be more frightful than even their worst nightmares!</em>


    "Do you really think this n of yours is going to work?" Chris asked. I actually busted upughing hysterically, earning me a strange look from Cass as the three of us ran down thistest corridor.


    "What, are you <em>kiddin''</em>? Fuck, I''m amazed we''ve even got <em>this</em> far!"


    Every muscle in my body was screaming at me. It had been several hours since our arrival on the Moon (I''m pretty sure, at least...), and we had barely stopped in all that time. I thought things might get easier with Chris now helping us out, but the fighting seemed <em>even more intense</em> now. Every time we turned a corner, there would be more power armored troops, more robots... even a few of those hugebat walkers from the tank proving ground had found their way down here and were chasing us. That, at least, exined why the corridors we were running down were so broad and the ceilings so high.


    I''d say things were starting to look bleak, but they''d been looking that way for a while.


    At least Cass seemed to be doing well. She''d gotten pretty good at handling the Jury Rigger and was blowing away Enve troops left and right. She was certainly doing better than me. You see, we''d been slicing through the troops so effectively up to now, that I''d started thinking the Enve was using tin foil and duct tape to make their power armor. That, it turns out, was a mistake that I only discovered when I tried to use some of my <em>other</em> weapons in the interest of conserving ammunition for the Alien ster.


    Roscoe (for obvious reasons) wasparable to blowing spit wads, but even That Gun and the Ranger Sequoia were less than useless. I''d loaded both with armor piercing ammunition before we left, but that didn''t seem to matter: the bullets were either <em>bouncing off </em>or they hit the armor straight-on and came to a <em>dead stop</em>. The sawed-off I kept on my hip was doing alright because it was loaded with pulse slugs (and the power armor was thankfully still vulnerable to EMP weapons) but I only had <strong>four</strong> of those shells left. I <em>had</em> to use the Alien ster to thin their ranks at all, and <em>that </em>meant I was now down to 25 shots for that thing. Worst of all, I had no grenades.


    Chris, meanwhile, was pulling weapons literally out of nowhere; every time I looked back at him, he was using something different. The big fucking gun, some kind of huge sma cannon, the gatlingser he called ''Vengeance,'' a big fuck-off minigun, some damn thing that looked like it fired shurikens and lightning... where the fuck was he <em>keeping </em>all this shit? I would''ve asked him to share, but every one of his guns looked too heavy for me to even <em>lift</em>.


    And Tuera... I had no idea where she was. I had no idea if she was even alive or dead. I couldn''t even raise her onms. Whenever I tried to contact her between firefights, all I got was a load of static in my ear.


    "<em>Shea! GO!"</em>


    The three of us kept running, trying desperately to keep ahead of thetest patrol that I knew was right on our heels. Thest words I''d heard Tuera say to me kept echoing around the inside of my skull, and I couldn''t get them to go away. All I wanted to do was throw up. Or copse. Or <strong>both</strong>.


    "In there!" Chris yelled, pulling me out of my thoughts. He was pointing at arge st door at the end of the hall, closing slowly like the jaws of a giant metal beast. "Quick! Before it closes! We''re gonna have to jump "


    There was a fizzle of electricity both in front and behind us. We suddenly found ourselves locked off by a pair of force fields boxing us in. Chris couldn''t stop in time, and ended up mming face-first into the energy barrier with a sound not unlike a rubber mallet hitting arge bass drum. The sound of the heavy power armor crashing to the ground was almost enough to drown out the speakers above our heads crackling to life.


    "Foolish, prideful children," Eden''s voice growled menacingly right above us. "There is no ce to hide, and nowhere to run."


    "Cass?" I asked with a sigh, grabbing Chris with my cybeic arm and doing my best to help the colossus back on his feet. "If you don''t mind?"


    "dly!" she nodded at me with a smirk, leveling the Jury Rigger.


    <strong>BARK!</strong>


    The energy shield fizzled into nothing, and the three of us set off running again while Eden howled in frustration. I only hoped we could escape before he activated any more force fields. Chris sped off ahead of us, practically diving for the door before it closed. He grabbed the upper door just in the nick of time with both hands, wedged his foot against the bottom, and forced the door open with obvious effort.


    "C''MON!" he hissed at us through gritted teeth. Cass and I ducked through the door, acutely aware of the noisy hydraulics trying to keep it shut strained against his muscle. When we were safely hidden behind him, he let go of the door and quickly rolled away. The door mmed shut with a cacophony of metal against metal that echoed in this new chamber.


    "There," Chris said, punching a panel on the wall next to the door as he spoke. Sparks flew everywhere as the metal buckled and the electronics within exploded. "That should keep them busy... for a while, at least..." I could be wrong, but it almost sounded like he was out of breath. Was this ce starting to get to <em>him </em>too?


    "I certainly hope so..." I gripped the Alien ster tight, and looked around, trying to figure out where the fuck we were now. At first it looked like an absurdly high-ceilinged warehouse, filled to the brim with row after row of metal boxes. But then I looked closer and realized: we were surrounded byputer terminals and server mainframes. I guess the map really <em>was</em> urate, after all. No wonder they''d been so desperate to keep us froming this way.


    The lights above us flickered, and speakers all around us came to life in a short burst of static and feedback.


    "Why must you be so recalcitrant, mutant?" Eden''s voice echoed off every surface. Every single monitor and screen in view switched to the image of a t color with a line that moved as he spoke; I was suddenly reminded of the screen of the AI under the Big Empty, only blue instead of yellow. "Your fate is already sealed! Your efforts are in vain! There is nowhere you can run where we cannot find you! So <em>why</em>? Tell me why you must continue this pointless struggle, even knowing what you know?!" He was definitely getting angry, no doubt about it.


    "You don''t get it? Of course we struggle!" I yelled back. "We''re not just fighting for ourselves  we''re fighting for the sake of the! We''re fighting to save everyone on Earth from your ns of <strong>genocide</strong>! We''ll fight to the bitter end, no matter what, and do whatever it takes to stop you!" I sneakily motioned to Chris and Cass behind me, hoping that they''d get the message as I cautiously made my way to the nearest server. With luck, Eden wouldn''t notice what I was doing until it was toote. The best way to make sure he didn''t notice?


    Make him even madder.


    "That''s right!" Cass backed me up, pointing at one of the screens above us. "We " she paused briefly, interrupted by the violent shaking of the st door behind us. "We''ll never stop fightin, ya digital cunt! No matter what you throw at us, we''ll just keep swingin! No matter what tries to stop us, we won''t slow down! Even if th'' whole UNIVERSE tells us t''fuck off, we''ll just kick ''em in th'' nuts and keep right on goin!"


    "You best face facts, Eden!" Chris bellowed, joining in the fun of taunting the bad guy. The door behind us shook again. "We''re more human than any of those meat-puppets out there you''ve cloned! You''ll never understand the true strength and resolve of the human race!" The door shook yet again, and it definitely sounded like we didn''t have much time.


    "We do not need to understand, <em>mutant</em>," Eden growled out, not even bothering to hide his anger and frustration anymore. "We only need to <strong>know</strong>."


    "Y''know, I''m getting'' awful tired of you callin'' me mutant, you useless collection of ones and zeroes!" I yelled, furtively loading the holotape I''d been hiding in my duster. "I have a name, and you best start usin'' it!"


    "Your name  just like your very <em>existence</em>  is utterly <strong>irrelevant</strong>!" Eden bellowed angrily. The door shook once more, and both Chris and Cass wheeled around with guns drawn, ready for when the army burst through. Meanwhile, the screen in front of me shed a message, asking if I wished to proceed. Yes, please!


    "Oh, I think it''s pretty damn relevant alright!" I yelled back, my hand hovering over the ''enter'' key. "Because I''m the motherfuckin'' Courier, <strong>bitch</strong>! And I''ve got a message for you!"


    Beep.


    "What are you  " Eden began, but he suddenly stopped as every monitor in view flickered; line after line of code started scrolling by at break-neck speed. "Wait, but this... I... don''t... <em>cake</em>?" For the first time since we''d arrived, Eden sounded legitimately confused. Right before he stopped sounding like anything at all. "What i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-"


    His voice glitched out loudly, threatening to blow out our eardrums. The blue monitors all around us shed yellow several times, and started switching off, one by one. The servers followed suit, the lights going dark apanied by a series of audible thunks, until only the one in front of me remained. There were no more words  just the loud repetitive clicking noise of a damaged hard drive. The screen finally froze in the middle of generating a cluster of digital artifacts, creating an asymmetrical quilt of multicolored squares on the screen.


    "And <strong>that''s</strong> why you don''t <strong>fuck</strong> with a mailman!" I backhanded the screen with my cybeic hand, causing the ss to crack.


    "Holy shit!" Cass let out a single nervousugh. "I think it actually <em>worked</em>!"


    "Only one way to make sure," I said. I took the Alien ster out of the improvised holster in my duster, leveled it at the frozen screen, and fired. Sadly, the server didn''t disintegrate; there was just a perfectly round hole where the sma bolt entered... and the entire back of the server exploded in a shower of sparks, shards of circuits, and molten metal.


    I didn''t have time to feel smug, however. The st door shook again, and when I looked, I could almost swear the metal had started warping inward from all the impacts...


    "We''re not clear yet!" Chris said, big gun still trained on the door, but backing up swiftly. "We''ve still got to blow this ce and go home!"


    "What are we waiting for, then?" I turned on my heel, running for the other end of the server farm. "Let''s go!" The door shook again, but didn''t break, so Chris and Cass started running behind me.


    Hell, we might <em>actually</em> make it through this...


    The Enve patrols had be uncoordinated and sporadic.


    It wasn''t obvious at first. But the further away we got from the server farm where we''d trapped Eden, the more it became clear just how reliant they were on his guidance and coordination. Whenever a patrol found us, they certainly gave chase, but they were no longering at us from every other corner, and it seemed much easier to give them the slip. It definitely felt like we''d given ourselves some breathing room. Just. On the borderline, really.


    "How much further?" Cass asked.


    "We should be right on top of it..." I said, looking at the map on my Pip Boy. I nced up, looking around, and didn''t see anything even remotely resembling an entrance to a reactor.


    Clunk. Crunch. Bang.


    "Well, you''re certainly right about that..." Cass and I turned to the sound, and saw Chris pulling open arge hatch in the floor that I hadn''t noticed earlier. He pulled the hatch free, ripping it clear of the hinges, and tossed it aside with a crash. All three of us leaned over to get a look straight down; it was a huge, wide pit that seemed to go on forever. Cass let out a long whistle.


    "Quite th'' fall," she nodded to no one in particr. Chris, meanwhile, sighed and shook his head.


    "Damn. I was hoping there would be adder or something..." He shrugged, the metal tes of his power armor ttering against each other heavily. "Ah well. Needs must when the Devil drives, eh?"


    "What are you " I started, not really understanding.


    Chris stepped forward and dropped like a rock, feet-first into the pit.


    "Did... did he just..." Cass stammered out with a confused look on her face, pointing down after him.


    "Of course he did," I said with a sigh, pulling out the grapnel gun. "Well, shall we?" Cass continued to look confused for a few seconds, reced briefly by a look of horrified realization. Finally she shrugged with resigned eptance.


    "Might as well..." she shouldered the Jury Rigger and clung to me tightly; I grabbed hold of her around the waist with one hand and aimed the grapnel at the ceiling. "Just don'' let go''a me, alright?"


    "Trust me."


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I jumped down after the power armored idiot and immediately Cass wrapped her legs around me, clinging to me even tighter. I had my finger on the button to make the cable unspool at a steady rate, and the two of us swiftly descended. It was probably only a few seconds, but it <em>felt </em>a lot longer. By the time I touched down (in the middle of a surprisingly substantial impact crater) Chris was waiting for us.


    "Why didn''t you just use the rocket boots to get down here?" he asked while Cass detached herself from me. I hit the button on the grapnel and the cable retracted back with a snap.


    "They got wrecked earlier..." I said, looking around. Just like everything else in this fucking base, this ce was massive: high ceilings, catwalks, enormous machinery that looked like gigantic metal beer cans wrapped in pipes, cables, and who knew what else. Nearly every structure in thisplex (at least, the ones I could see) was a gigantic metal cylinder. If it wasn''t so fucking hot in here, it would''ve almost been like the inside of a gigantic fridge,plete with enormous beer cans. "Alright, so how do we blow this thing?"


    "Well, if it''s like the reactor I found in Minot, then it''s gonna have some ratherrge cooling turbines. If we wreck those, the heat and energy will build up, feed back in on itself, and then..." Chris made an exploding motion with his hands. "To be honest, I <em>still</em> have no idea why the Enve keep using reactors that are made entirely of Explodium..."


    "You don''t really care, do you?" I deadpanned. Chris shrugged.


    "Well, I kinda do this time!" he said with augh. "What with us being on the Moon and all, I can''t exactly walk away calmly from this one while putting on sunsses, like I -" Before he could finish, I snapped my fingers, pointed at Chris, and turned to Cass.


    "HA! I knew I wasn''t the only one who did that!" Cass slowly shook her head and sighed, burying her face in her hand.


    "I hate you both," she muttered softly... before starting tough. And I''m gonna be honest, I think the utter insanity and ridiculousness of our situation had finally gotten to us, because Chris and I joined in. "Al-alright..." she said finally, catching her breath as the two of us leaned against Chris for support. "Enough fuckin'' around, let''s "


    BOOM.


    Something above our heads exploded, and any sense of humor evaporated. The three of us had our guns drawn immediately, and were treated to a view of one of the walls a good three or four stories above us breaking apart in a shower of debris, smoke, sparks, and shrapnel. Time seemed to slow down, and VATS kicked in unexpectedly. The IFF spotter in my helmet picked out a shape inside the smoke and debris, and my blood ran ice cold at the outline.


    It was the silhouette of an impossibly huge, mountain of a man. A gigantic tower shield was strapped to one arm... and massive warhammer was held in the other.


    "RUN!" I yelled, already turning on my heel. Above me, I could hear Panzer falling amid the debris, with a sound like an iing artillery strike. It was fitting, because the impact knocked me clear off my feet, and sent me tumbling forward, head over heels.


    Next thing I knew I was mming against the metal floor, t on my back. All I could do at first was watch in horror as a slow motion Panzer emerged from the cloud of smoke and fire, charging upside-down anding straight for me. Thankfully, VATS was still with me, so I pulled out the Alien ster with one hand, and the grapnel gun with other. I fired three shots  which is a lot harder than it sounds when you''re used to seeing targets the right way up  and aimed the grapnel gun at the ceiling. The sma bolts from the Alien ster struck him (twice in the chest, once in the head) and set his armor on fire, but didn''t slow him down in the slightest.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    The warhammer came down at the same time I was propelled up at the ceiling. For a split second, I didn''t think I was going to make it. But the warhammer missed crushing me by inches, I was sure... and then the shockwave from the enormous maul striking the ground hit me. I was thrown off course and turned into a iling mass of screaming limbs hurtling through the air.


    "Hey! PANSY!" Chris'' voice cut through the noise, even as I mmed into a pir and came crashing back to the ground. By the time I looked up, nearly everything in view was consumed in green. Chris must have fired the BFG... but it wasn''t as effective as I would''ve liked. By the time I got back on my feet, the green energy had started to dissipate, and Panzer was still there: pushed back from where he''d been standing earlier, clearly stunned, with a mixture of smoke and green fire curling off him, but <em>still alive</em>! He bellowed incoherently and got to his feet, swinging his tower shield in a wide arc in front of him. The ground was chewed up as the bottom of the shield dug in.


    Chris started running at Panzer. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cass: she had pulled her AA-12 and the Jury Rigger off her back, and was dual wielding them, aiming at Panzer. I took the hint and leveled the Alien ster. I only managed to fire once before the power cell ran dry, but it seemed to do the trick. One side of Panzer''s face was consumed in blue fire, while the other side was hit with a pair of exploding shotgun shells and a trio of LAER bursts. It stunned him long enough for Chris to shoulder check the massive super soldier.


    "<strong>My name</strong> " he bellowed, pushing against Chris with his entire bulk; the bone white T-51b was shoved backward several paces. "  <strong>is</strong><strong>PANZER</strong>!" The warhammer came swinging down, aimed squarely at Chris. The Lone Wanderer reached up and  somehow  managed to grab the edges of the gigantic mallet before it ttened him. The ground under his feet cracked and buckled; Chris was pushed down at least a foot by the impact. The two of them struggled like that for several seconds, until:


    "<strong>You can''t WIN!</strong>" Panzer yelled, shifting his weight. Chris was blindsided by the edge of the tower shield, and went flying. While all this was happening, I''d managed to run to the opposite end of the reactor room, reloading the Alien ster as I went. Chris crashed into one of the giant metal cylinders, and the side of it exploded, releasing a huge cloud of yellow steam and a waterfall of viscous bright blue fluid.


    I knew that I couldn''t bring him down by myself. The alien sma bolts might not have enough kick on its own, but the fire meant it was doing <em>something, </em>and he was definitely stunned when hit with the BFG. If I was right about my hunch, then we would need to concentrate our fire to bring him down.


    "<strong>That won''t work, little girl!</strong>" Panzer shouted as he ran, warhammer held high while LAER bursts deflected uselessly off the front of his shield. Cass was backing up, but had nowhere to go.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    Cass dove for cover. The warhammer came down. I flew through the air, propelled by the grapnel gun and aimed myself squarely at Panzer''s head. The ground burst apart like it was hit with a bomb. I couldn''t see where Cass had ended up amid the shrapnel and debris. But Inded on top of Panzer''s shoulders, grabbed one of the horns on his head to keep me steady, and started hitting the top of his helmet with my metal fist, over and over and over again.


    It was like holding onto the bucking brahmin machine in The Broken Spoke. I was yelling incoherently, just hitting him as hard as I could while he tried throwing me off. After the sixth or seventh punch, the metal actually started to dent and warp... but I didn''t get a chance to see if I could get further. I finally lost my grip and he threw me off, sending me tumbling through the air yet again.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    "Shea!" Cass'' voice buzzed in my ear, and my heart skipped a beat. She was alive! I tried to right myself before mming into the wall I''d grappled onto. "I''m... I''m banged up, but... I''m okay! Sue''s got me hidden!" Inded against the wall feet-first and detached, dropping onto the top of one of the other cylinders in the room. "Where''re you?"


    "I''m..." I began, looking down and realizing for the first time what these were: I was standing on top of a metal grate, separating me from arge spinning fan. Heat, light, and steam were surging up in torrents from the inside. These must be the <em>cooling towers</em> Chris had mentioned earlier! "I''ve got an idea."


    "<strong>There you are!</strong>" Panzer bellowed, and I realized that he was talking to me: he had the top end of his warhammer aimed in my direction. The end of it exploded, which could only mean...


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I zipped away from the spot just as the edge of the cooling tower burst into mes. Twisted metal and shrapnel flew everywhere, aided by the giant fan ripping itself apart. I took aim with the Alien ster while flying directly over Panzer and hit him with a trio of sma bolts. I did my best to use VATS to aim at the spot on his helmet I''d been punching earlier... but I was going too fast to say for sure if I''d seeded. I just know that the top of his helmet was consumed in blue fire and sparks.


    "<strong>Stop buzzing, insect!</strong>" he bellowed just as I came to a stop... directly in front of him. His head was still on fire from the Alien ster shots, so I just kept going. Off to my left, Cass reappeared with a shimmer, and hit him with a cluster of LAER bursts. But nothing seemed to be doing the trick. He raised the warhammer again... but stopped when arge chunk of metal flew through the air, hitting him in the back of his head. He stumbled, giving me just enough time to get out of the way before he brought the hammer down.


    "Cass!" I yelled, running away from the buckling ground. "Catch! Trip him up!" I held up the grapnel gun, and tossed it over to her before switching directions again. Panzer wasing at me from behind, chasing me with his hammer held high; Chris wasing around from the other side.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    The grapnel cable sliced through the air around waist height  or <em>knee </em>height for Panzer. Either he didn''t notice, or he didn''t care, because he plowed directly into it. And that was just enough to knock him off bnce.


    "<strong>What the </strong>" he stumbled, losing momentum and tumbling forward.


    "High now, Chris!" I tossed the Alien ster to my fleshy hand and reached back with my cybeic fist. "Go high!" Chris skidded to a stop next to me, pulling back with his own robotic arm. Panzer toppled toward us in slow motion; Chris and I mmed our fists at the same time as hard as we could right into his face.


    "<strong>AUGH!</strong>" Panzer bellowed, reeling backward from the hit. I almost didn''t notice the blue shimmer around Chris'' hands; Vengeance materialized out of thin air, and he started pelting Panzer with dozens ofsers. I took the hint, and took aim with the Alien ster, emptying thest little bit I had in the energy cell. Cass ran up beside me, leveling the Jury Rigger and started hitting him with LAER sts.


    "Concentrate fire!" I yelled, popping out the energy cell and grabbing thest one. Panzer kept backing up, while his entire front was consumed in sma fire and explosions. He actually <em>dropped</em> the hammer, and chunks of superheated metal started falling through the fire and smoke. He tried to stop himself, digging the bottom of the shield into the ground, but it wasn''t enough. The force of all the energy sts just kept pummeling him, and it wasn''t until he was backed into thest of the cooling towers that we stopped.


    Cass had stopped firing, because the Jury Rigger was beeping, telling her it needed to recharge. I''d stopped firing, because I had no more ammunition left. Chris, on the other hand, had stopped firing... because he was advancing on Panzer, with his hand held out to keep us from following.


    "Go," I heard him say through my earpiece, as Vengeance disappeared with a blue shimmer. After a brief pause, the BFG was teleported into his hands. "I''ll finish him."


    "<strong>This...</strong>" Panzer grunted out, doubled over. "<strong>This... changes... nothing!</strong>" The smoke billowing off his front started to clear, and the front of his armor was shredded and melting. It wasn''t much, but it was definitely no longer pristine, and he was clearly hurting. Chris walked up to him with the BFG in hand, and Panzer tried punching him away. Chris ducked under the swung fist, and shoved the end of the BFG right into Panzer''s damaged gut, pinning him to the cooling tower.


    "Go!" Chris yelled. I was already grabbing hold of Cass, and the two of us started running for the exit. Panzer howled incoherently for a few seconds... and then he was drowned out by the unmistakable explosion of the BFG going off.


    Cass and I were knocked off our feet by the shockwave, and the two of us crashed to the ground. Everything around us was bathed in bright green light, and a wave of heat washed over us. I clutched her as tightly as I could and scrambled back to my feet. Explosions started ripping up the room behind us, and rm bells sounded over and over again.


    "C''MON!" I shouted. "We''ve gotta GO!"


    The two of us started running.


    I had no idea where we could go. All around us, everything was exploding. The rm bells got louder and louder. I checked the map on my Pip Boy, and tried to see if I could find some kind of hangar  maybe we could hijack some kind of craft capable of reaching orbit.


    My insides seized up in terror. The closest hangar on this map was a mile above us and four miles away.


    "Oh shit!" Cass grabbed the back of my head. "DUCK!" She shoved the two of us to the ground, and I heard her fire the Jury Rigger again. More sma bolts sizzled through the air above us. We scrambled to our feet, and another wall near us exploded.


    "This ce ising down around us!" I yelled, trying to figure out where we could go.


    "They got any space sh AUGH!" Cass yelled, tumbling to the ground.


    "CASS!" I yelled. More sma bolts sizzled through the air, and I ducked, grabbing the Jury Rigger. There was a pair of robots at the end of the hall, and after I hit them with a pair of LAER beams, there weren''t. The end of the hall exploded, and I knelt down, feverishly grabbing at Cass to pick her up. "Cass! Speak to me!"


    "I''m..." she gasped, coughing and clutching her side. "M''fine... jus'' got th'' wind knocked outta me, s''all..." I looked her over, and couldn''t see any sma burns, but that didn''t necessarily mean shit. "We gotta go... Where''s th'' exit?"


    "Too far..." I muttered, looking around us. Everything was either exploding or copsing. There was no longer a ceiling over my head, and I could see <em>dozens </em>of levels above us, all breaking apart and blowing up. Holy shit, that reactor explosion was working a hell of a lot faster than I was expecting.


    "Sally, can you hear me?" I said, cycling through the radio channels. "Chris? Yes Man? Tuera? Anyone! Is anyone out there?!"


    All I got was static.


    "Sheas''n..." Cass was out of breath,ying against the ground and grabbing at me. Explosions were ripping up the ce, all around us. I had to get her out. I had to get <em>us </em>out, now.


    "Cass..." I pulled the metal half-sphere from the holding spot behind my belt. Cass looked at it quizzically, and I pulled her in close, pressing it against her armor. "Grab hold of this. <em>And me</em>." She looked confused, and we held each other close as everything around us disintegrated in fire.


    The symbols on the device lit up brightly as I moved my thumb to the button. A high pitched whine screamed, drowning out the sounds of madness and chaos all around us. Lightning arced off every surface, surrounding us.


    And then everything disappeared in a bright blue sh.


    The world came into focus with a violent tremor, and the electricity died down. I could see Cass nearby, iling her limbs and shouting. The teleport device Chris had given me was also in the vicinity  burnt out and spewing smoke. But that wasn''t the only odd thing.


    Neither of us was on the ground. We were floating in the air at least ten or fifteen feet <em>above </em>it.


    "Cass!" I reached out to her, trying to catch her, but it was useless. Gravity kicked in, and we started tumbling. Within seconds, the two of us smashed into the pavement. It hurt, and every part of me was sore; it felt like a side effect of the teleporter more than anything else. But I shut out the pain as best I could and shoved myself up off the ground. There were several chunks of smoking metal surrounding us, some of them still on fire. Some of the Moon base must havee with us.


    Cass was lying motionless against the pavement, no more than a few feet away from me. I scrambled over to her as quickly as I could, pulling my helmet off and tossing it aside, picking her up. She coughed several times, and a ssh of bloody vomit sttered against the ground.


    "Oh, God... augh, f-f-fuck me..." she wheezed out, reaching up with a trembling hand to wipe the sick away from her mouth. I grabbed hold of her, trying to help her sit up. She looked around with dazed and unfocused eyes, until she finally saw me holding onto her. She reached out with both hands, grabbing at me and pulling herself up, drawing me into a tight embrace. "Holy... holy shit... where th'' fuck''re we <em>now</em>?"


    I didn''t say anything at first. I just tried to catch my breath, holding onto her as tightly as I could. The ringing in my ears started to fade... and that''s about the time I heard muttered, hushed voices all around us.


    I looked up, and saw faces of people, keeping their distance, but curious as to what was going on. They looked like... <em>tourists</em>? Both Cass and I looked up in confusion, trying to make sense of this... until we saw the tower of the Lucky 38 looming over us. We''dnded right smack-dab in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard. I startedughing softly to myself, and kept looking up. Beyond the 38''s tower, the sky was full of scattered clouds. It was mostly dark now, and the brightest stars in the night sky were starting to filter through the dissolving cloud cover... along with the half-Moon.


    Suddenly, an imperfection appeared on the dark side of the Moon. A twinkle of light, shining bright... like a tiny supernova. I wanted to keepughing, but I was too damn tired. So Cass and I leaned against each other, holding on tight as we could and keeping the other from falling.


    "We''re home."

 Chapter 162: After Action Report

    Chapter 162: After Action Report


    "When did April''n Em say they were gonna arrive?" Cass asked, leaning back against the steps. I shrugged from my spot next to her, looking at my Pip Boy.


    "Eh, give ''em five more minutes," I said, also settling into a morefortable position on the steps.


    Cass and I had dragged our tired and injured selves away from our arrival point in the middle of the street, and were now waiting for our ride on the steps leading up to the Lucky 38. I think the initial shock of two people arriving in midair above the street must have worn off by now, because not many people were paying attention to us. Not only that, but I couldn''t hear any explosions  distant or otherwise  so Boone and the rest must have dealt with whatever Eden had sent their way. So that was good. And with the doctors on their way, there was nothing left for either of us to do except kick back for a breather.


    So, that''s exactly what we did.


    "Well now," Cass said with a ragged cough, draping her arm over my shoulder... and pointing at the south end of the street. "Who''s this big girl''s blouse?" I didn''t focus on what she was pointing at, at first. I was too focused on that <em>cough.</em>


    "You sure you''re alright?" Cass rolled her eyes, and yfully pped my cheek.


    "I can hold out jus'' fine till the docs get here, stop bein'' such a fusspot. Now look," she pointed again. "Someone''s headin'' this way."


    It was a lot more than <em>one </em>someone; it was <em>quite a few</em> someones, in fact, and people were practically tripping over themselves to get out of the way. I saw about 10 NCR troopers approaching, all wearing armbands emzoned with a gigantic "MP" on the side, and all armed with assault rifles. They seemed to be nking a tall, bald ck man in a nice suit. It was a mostly grey and uninteresting affair,plete with grey waistcoat, grey tie, and light grey shirt. The only ssh of color was an orange flower on thepel. If the NCR soldiers hadn''t tipped me off to this guy''s identity, the flower would''ve sealed the deal: it was a California poppy.


    "Wait here," I whispered wearily to Cass, shouldering the Jury Rigger and getting off my ass with a grunt.


    "Don''t hurt yerself," she called after me. The NCR troops fanned out, and came to a stop about ten feet away from the 38''s stairs; I noticed with a wry sense of amusement that the two securitrons guarding the entrance had moved to a defensive posture, and more robots were rolling out from inside.


    "Well, well, well," the man in the suit said when he finally came to a stop. "If it isn''t the proverbial Courier; the loose cannon who''s been wandering around the Mojave causing chaos thesest two months." I stood opposite him, folding my arms across my chest and shooting him a look ofplete bored disdain.


    "... I''m sorry, who are you again?" He was obviously Dennis Crocker, the NCR''s ambassador to Vegas, and I <em>knew </em>that. I mean, I''d never met him in <em>person</em>, but I''d <em>heard</em> about him, and I was in <strong>no mood</strong> to deal with this idiot right now. So I thought I''d wind him up a bit. All he had to do was narrow his eyes to let me know that the feeling of enmity was mutual.


    "You know, I''m d I found you," he continued. "If even half of what we know about you is true, then you have done more than any other single person to destabilize this region. I''m <em>certain</em> you''re the reason we haven''t heard a peep from Housetely, and I know for a <strong>fact</strong> you were responsible for turning Freeside into a warzone a week ago. And then again yesterday. And <strong>today</strong>. You certainly have a <strong>lot</strong> to answer for." I didn''t even wait for him to finish before I started shaking my head andughing.


    "Heh, oh, you''re <strong>adorable</strong>," I said, and I swear I could almost see the puffs of steam escape from his ears.


    "Don''t you dare try and mock me!" he said angrily. "Every major explosion in thest two months can be traced back to your actions, and I <strong>demand</strong> that you be held responsible for the destruction done to this city!"


    "Oh, you <strong>demand</strong>!" I replied with faux indignation. "Oh, well that changes everything, doesn''t it?"


    "Listen here, you "


    "No, <strong>you</strong> listen, Crocker," I interrupted, pointing at him. "I would <em>love</em> to stay and chat," I couldn''t even manage to say that with a straight face, and his impotent rage was apparent. "But I''ve had a bit of a rough day. And really, I''ve been way too busytely, what with fighting an endless string of genocidal maniacs, saving all life in the wastnd, and <em>recovering</em> from dealing with the aforementioned maniacs to waste time sitting down with you, talking about nothing at all. As soon as I get an opening in my schedule, I''ll give you a call. But until that day?" I unfolded both arms, and gave him both birds. "Go <strong>fuck </strong>yourself."


    "How <strong>dare</strong> you speak to me like that!" he shouted. "Just who in the hell do you think you are?!" The irony of a man nked by soldiers (in a tantly transparent attempt at posturing) while immediately barking demands was apparently lost on him.


    "You already know who I am, Crocker. I''m the <strong>Courier</strong>, and perhaps I haven''t made myself clear..." I started walking up to the ambassador, and the NCR troops started raising their guns in response. They all seemed to pause and lower their guns again, however, when they finally noticed the securitrons. "I''ve spent all of today and most of yesterday fighting power armored fascists  many of whom were on the fuck-mothering <strong>Moon</strong>. I''m exhausted. I''m starving. I''m injured  Cass over there is <em>really </em>injured! I ampletely out of ammunition. AND YET..." I pounded a fist into my cybeic palm, cracking the knuckles. "I can <strong>still </strong>kick the ass of <strong>everyone </strong>here and not even break a fucking sweat. <strong>Don''t</strong> make me <strong>prove</strong> it."


    Thankfully, it was around this time that the white pickup truck with the Followers logo emzoned on the doors arrived. Most of the MPs got out of the way as April backed up the truck right to the stairs, and Emily got out, rushing over to help Cass on her feet. Hriously, I also noticed that the Auto Doc from The Sink was here, inhabiting one of the tiny floating Big MT personality spheres.


    "Now, if you''ll excuse me, my ride is here," I turned on my heel, helping to pick up Cass and pour her into the back of the pickup truck. "So you and yer boys best pack your happy asses up, an'' do the smart thing: <em><strong>get off mywn</strong></em>." I didn''t see what their response was to that, because I hopped in the back of the truck, sat down next to Cass, and April started driving away. As soon as we were out of sight and earshot, I let out a heavy sigh and copsed face-first onto the truck bed next to Cass. "Fuckin'' politicians..." I managed to mutter under my breath, before feeling Cass grab hold of my shoulder and give me a shake.


    "You crazy motherfucker..." she said with augh.


    It didn''t take us long to get to the Mormon Fort, and Cass was being stubborn as ever, despite clearly needing both April and Emily on either side to help her stand up straight.


    "I''m tellin'' ya, ahm fine!" she grumbled. "Stop fussin!"


    "Hogwash, missy!" Doc''s voice buzzed out of the tiny metal orb hovering around her. He was scanning her with a blue light as she was carried into the Fort. "You can barely stand! I''m detecting multiple contusions, and at least one major sh burn from superheated sma! This isn''t something you can walk off, no matter how tough-as-nails you im to be. You need medical attention! So, Ol'' Doc is gonna patch you up, whether you want my help or not."


    While Cass was getting the once-over by the Followers, I decided to see exactly what kind of damage the Enve managed to do. From my understanding, they''d exclusively focused on trying to get into Freeside''s north gate... but there didn''t seem to be all that much damage. Or, at the very least... no more damage than <em>usual</em> for buildings in Freeside.


    "Hey, Boone! What''s the good word" I called out, spotting the sniper. He was easy enough to spot, as he was wearing the Desert Ranger armor and carrying an anti-materiel rifle; if I wanted to find out what had happened, he was the best bet. After all, Fawkes may have given some advice regarding the finer points in defending against power armored invaders, but <em>Boone</em> had unquestionably been in charge while I was away. He nodded as I approached, his expression hidden behind the helmet.


    "You look like shit," he grunted at me.


    "Thank you!" I said without a hint of sarcasm. Boone shook his head, and the two of us started walking to the gate.


    "They tried to break through five times," Boone said, getting straight to the point. "None of them even got close to the wall. By the fourth wave, something had changed. It was like they had gotten desperate. Disorganized."


    "That must have been around the time I deep sixed Eden..." I muttered, surveying the damage. I couldn''t help but let out a low whistle, marveling at how thoroughly ripped up the world outside the Freeside gates had be. There were craters and body parts everywhere. I could see broken robots, dead power armored troops, and off in the distance I saw the still burning (or long since burned out) hulks of a few tanks, plus at least one of thosebat mechs. Securitrons were rolling around the battlefield, cleaning things up and  presumably  collecting any tech we could salvage before anyone else could. Stripe was also bounding around in the distance. From the little I saw, it looked like he was going from tank to tank, rummaging through the burning hulks like a dog rooting through piles of garbage.


    "It was a hard day down here," Boone grunted with a shrug. "But we made it through without a scratch. So I guess we''ve had worse."


    "I''m just d you guys are... you''re... o... kay... Oh hell."


    And that''s pretty much the specific moment my adrenaline finally evaporated. I vaguely remembered swaying on the spot briefly, and hearing the muffled voice of Boone ask if I was alright. There was a thud, and then everything went ck.


    Beep. Beep. Beep.


    "... y''sure?" a muffled female voice cut through the darkness. It feels like I''m awake, but it''s... oh, my eyes are shut. That exins why it''s still dark.


    Beep. Beep. Beep.


    "Absolutely!" another familiar voice said. "In fact, I think he''s waking up now."


    Cautiously, I opened my eyes, trying to figure out where the fuck I was <em>now</em>. I was in some kind of building, on a bed somewhere... but it wasn''t the 38. I didn''t have my armor or weapons... but there was definitely an IV drip in my arm. If the beeping was any indication, I was in one of the makeshift hospitals the Followers had set up  since I wasn''t in a tent at the Fort. I grunted, trying to cough the phlegm out of my throat, and sat up. Cass was sitting on the edge of the cot to my left, with her arm in a sling and a smile on her face.


    "Wee back!" she said with a chuckle. "How d''ya feel?"


    "Dizzy... sore... an'' one helluva hangover..." I grumbled, rubbing my eyes and coughing again. "How long was I out <em>this </em>time?" I was starting to hate this habit of mine: fighting so hard and so long, that I couldn''t help but pass out as soon as it was done.


    "About seventeen hours. S''almost noon." She smirked. "I''m surprised yer not starvin''. When was th''st time y''ate somethin? Yesterday mornin?"


    "I''m pretty sure it was breakfast on Zeta," the other familiar voice said. I turned to look... and sure enough, Christopher was standing at the edge of my cot, wearing his Vault suit and his sunsses. I just buried my face in my hand and shook my head.


    "You know... part of me doesn''t want to believe you''re standing here..." I started, and Chris leaned back, shrugging his shoulders.


    "I can certainly understand <em>that</em>," he said, grinning widely. "It was, after all, quite the explosion!"


    "... but I feel like I <em>have</em> to believe you''re really standing here, because..." I half-sighed, half-chuckled, and shook my head again. "Well, because it''s <em>you</em>. You''repletely ridiculous."


    "I have my moments," he shrugged again.


    "What ''bout th'' super soldier?" Cass asked. "That Panser-y dude?"


    "Oh, yeah, he''s definitely dead," Chris nodded several times. "The BFG shot to his damaged midsection blew him apart from the inside. Good riddance to bad rubbish, he will not be missed."


    "So, how <em>did</em> you survive, anyway?" I shifted in my seat on the bed. "Like you said, it was a huge explosion. We saw the sh from the surface when the base went up in mes."


    "Well, I''m not saying that it wasn''t tricky," Chris held up a finger as he spoke up again. "And in all fairness, thest time I had to burn <em>that </em>many Fate Points to stay in one piece, I was trying to restart Project Purity while doused in lethal radiation. It was about a billion rads a second, and it almost turned me into a pile of goo! But hey, at least this time I didn''t have to wait for the paid DLC to see the result of my endeavors!"


    The room was silent for a few seconds, as Cass and I both tried to parse this nonsense.


    "You''re saying words, but it means nothing," I said, eventually. Chris looked confused for half a second, and snapped his fingers.


    "OH! Right, right, I keep forgetting, you don''t  yeah, nevermind. I''m just talking nonsense again. Don''t mind me. SO!" He pped his hands together, and looked at the two of us eagerly. "Who''s hungry? I say we all get some grub, my treat! Whaddaya say?"


    Everyone was getting lunch. And I do mean <em>everyone</em>.


    We were at that same restaurant in Freeside Arcade had taken us to a while back  the ''seafood'' joint  because they were one of the only ces in town with an open-air patio. That was the only way some of the... <emrger </em>members of our little band of adventurers could join us. Thankfully, they had lots more than just mirelurk meat: that was just the specialty. They also had a really well stocked bar! The table was so full of food and drink, allid out family style, that I almost thought it was going to buckle from the weight.


    Chris, Fawkes and Sally were at one end of the table, talking with a guy I didn''t recognize  a ck dude in sunsses. Arcade was nearby, talking with the blonde guy from Zeta''s bridge crew... what was his name again? Elliott Tercorien, that''s it. Those two certainly seemed to be getting along. Raul was also nearby, talking with Moira, and I couldn''t tell if the two of them were hitting it off or arguing. Veronica was with April and Emily  and Julie, too, who showed up halfway through lunch. Muggy was also with them, sitting on April''s shoulder as they all talked and ate. The King even dropped in to say hello briefly, with a brte on one arm, and a redhead on the other; that said, he left in a hurry when he realized that Stripe was with us. I don''t think he was quite used to the sight of the deathw yet, but at least (most) people had stopped screaming when they saw him walking around. Speaking of, Stripe and Sasha were on the sidewalk (because they <em>physically </em>couldn''t fit anywhere else) eagerly tearing into half a mirelurk carcass, while a securitron with Yes Man''s face was nearby, keeping watch. Roxie and Dogmeat were underfoot, snuggling together and sharing a hriously huge chunk of brahmin beef. Buzzing around overhead like a cluster of miniature eyebots were several of the Big MT personalities, each one inhabiting one of those tiny floating metal balls.


    Which just left Cass, Boone, and me. The three of us were sitting together at the far end of the table, opposite from Chris andpany.


    "Been meaning to ask," Boone nodded at Cass, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich. "Why the sling? You break your arm?" Cass shook her head.


    "Nah, nothin'' that serious. Doc just wants me t''keep it steady, till th'' skin graft he used t''patch up th'' sma burn heals up. Ah should be right as rain, sometime t''morrow." She leaned back in her chair and started rubbing her arm in an almostically exaggerated fashion. "What about you? Howe you ain''t wounded?"


    "Because I''m just that good," Boone stated matter-of-factly, with only the barest hint of a smirk at the edge of his mouth. Cass seemed less than impressed.


    "Or maybe you got off easy, cuz Shea an'' I were up on th'' frikk''n <em><strong>Moon</strong></em><em>, </em>kickin'' ass an'' takin'' names." Boone nodded.


    "That''s definitely possible," he grunted out. "But hey... at least I found out the anti-materiel rifle lives up to the name."


    "Oh yeah? You bag any''ve those big walkin'' mechs with that thing?" Cass poked at her bowl of chili, and Boone nodded. The two of them kept talking, and the words seemed to fade away from my ears into muted obscurity, until it was like I couldn''t hear them at all. I was sitting at the table, sure, but I wasn''t really <em>there</em>. I was somewhere else... somewhere far away... trying to shut out the scratchinging from inside my head.


    "<em>Shea! GO!"</em>


    My jaw clenched and I tried to ignore the sensation threatening to burrow a hole straight through my sternum. This small talk wasn''t going to cut it. I needed something to distract me properly... or else my guilt would keep gnawing at me from the inside. Eat me whole.


    Focus. Compartmentalize.


    "Hey," I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. "You awake?" I looked up to see Chris standing over me, with the ck dude next to him.


    "Yeah..." I cleared my throat, shifting ufortably in my seat. "Yeah, I''m fine." Chris tilted his head, seeing through me clear as day. But I guess he didn''t want to make an issue of it. "What''s up?"


    "I wanted you to meet a friend of mine," he gestured to the man next to him. I got up, and immediately he started shaking my hand heartily; my face was reflected in his tiny round sunsses, and he was grinning broadly beneath a bushy, curly goatee. His outfit was simple: a ck leather vest over a white t-shirt, with a ck wrap on his head that had the letters "GNR" picked out in white.


    "Hey-hey, man! It''s good to meet you," he jabbed his thumb in Chris'' direction. "I''ve heard a lot about you from my boy here!"


    "Uh... thanks?" I said uncertainly. His voice sounded familiar... "I''m sorry, you''ve got me at a bit of a loss here." He just started grinning even more broadly than before.


    "The look on your face says it all!" While he spoke, Chris groaned and buried his face in his hand. "You''re wondering who the heck this guy is and why you should care. Well, prepare to be enlightened! My name... is Three Dog! Jockey of discs, and teller of truths! I''m the host and sole producer of the finest show ever to grace the wastnd''s airwaves: Gxy News Radio!"


    "Please, forgive the shy intro," Chris chuckled, grabbing Three Dog by the shoulder. "It''s been years since he''s had the chance to give somebody that spiel."


    "Hey, when you fight the Good Fight, you gotta give it all you got, and never ever hold back!" Three Dog startedughing. "Always dazzle ''em... and spread the word."


    "Oh!" I finally put two and two together. "I get it. No wonder I recognized your voice, you''re that guy from the radio, aren''t you? I heard it ying when I was on Zeta yesterday." Three Dog folded his arms across his chest and started nodding sagely.


    "Of course you heard it on Zeta! Where else do you think my broadcast studio has been thest two years? But that''s not why I''m here." He reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder. "I''m here because I wanted to thank you for helping out my boy here. The way this cat tells it, he couldn''t have done it without you. He wouldn''t even be <em>standing </em>here if not for you."


    "Fairly certain he did more than me..." I said, chuckling nervously and scratching the back of my head.


    "Balderdash and chicanery, my friend!" Chris eximed with a hearty chuckle, pping me on the back (and knocking the wind out of me). "If you hadn''t been there, I would probably <em>still</em> be up there gibbering and crying about how the Enve getting their hands on Zeta tech was my fault. Plus, it took all three of us working together to bring Panzer down. All the times he and I squared off, and I was never able to kill him on my own." Chris turned to Three Dog and snapped his fingers. "But anyway, there was something else you wanted to ask him, wasn''t there?"


    "Oh, right! Thanks man," Three Dog patted Chris on the chest and turned back to me. "Listen, I don''t know if you know this, but I''m always looking for more music to y on Gxy News. She''s my baby, and when I first started, I only had, like, five songs. yed over and over and over again, even the best song gets stale. And this big lug tells me you''ve got the tunes that no one  and I mean <strong>no one </strong> has heard since <em>long </em>before the bombs! Think you can help a brother out?"


    "Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, I think I can help. Hey, V!" I called out, and Veronica perked her head up from across the table. "You got a minute?"


    About an hourter, our massive cluster of people and animals had finished with lunch and were walking down Vegas Boulevard back to the 38. We hardly ran into any crowds, although that might be thanks to Stripe lumbering along beside us. Everyone who wasn''t us was giving us a wide berth. When we got close to the site of the Enve''s first Deep Strike attack, Chris spoke up.


    "Thanks again for all your help," Chris and I were in the back of our group, away from everyone else. "What I said earlier, about how I couldn''t have done it without you? I meant every word. Hell, if not for you, we wouldn''t have even <em>found </em>that Moon base, and if you hadn''t brought that piece of electro-punk techno wizardry, Eden almost certainly would''ve gotten away again."


    "Are we absolutely certain they''re gone for good this time?" I asked. Chris shrugged.


    "I think they''re pretty much done, except for a few stragglers. Then again, it wouldn''t be the first time the Enve came back from the dead. But... Yeah. We should be good. For the rest of the story, if nothing else."


    I eyed him curiously for a second, but didn''t say anything. I just sighed and shook my head as we kept walking. Everyone was talking except the two of us in the back. The sounds all around me started blurring together into white noise...


    "<em>Shea! GO!"</em>


    I gulped hard and grit my teeth.


    "Hey, uh..." Chris ced a metal hand on my shoulder, and seemed a bit unsure of himself. "I''m... I''m sorry about your friend. I didn''t... Y''know, I didn''t want to say anything when we were up there, but... uh..." At first, I wanted to deny that I was even thinking about <em>her</em>, or about <em>that</em>, or about how I left her behind... but I knew it was written all over my face. So I just clenched my jaw tighter and shook my head.


    "This is the second time I''ve lost her..." I rasped out softly. Chris patted me on the shoulder.


    "I know the feeling. It''s never easy, when you lose someone you care about..." I looked up at Chris curiously, and his face was practically carved from granite. He <em>looked</em> about as hollow as I <em>felt</em>. But then he shook it off and cleared his throat. "Look... listen... uh... if there''s anything you need help with  and I mean anything at all  don''t... y''know, don''t hesitate to ask."


    I could almost feel the gears inside my head start turning from that offer. And it didn''t take me long to think of something.


    "How many people can Zeta teleport at the same time?" I asked. Chris suddenly halted in his tracks, and tapped his chin, pondering the question. I stopped as well, and the rest of the group continued on, oblivious to the two of us no longer following.


    "Uh... I''m not sure. I know Sally can do some impressive stunts with stuff like my power armor, and then there''s that teleport circuit I have wired into my Pip Boy that links to all my weapons and ammo in the Hammerspace armory..."


    "Can you give me some rough numbers, at least?" I asked. Chris continued to tap his chin.


    "I dunno. Ten, maybe twenty people at once?" He shrugged. "I mean, Zeta has more than one teleport bay, but Sally''s the only one really qualified to operate it for the tricky stuff. We''d need urate coordinates for whoever we wanted to transport, and we''d need to make sure the pads are clear before getting anyone else."


    "So, several thousand people would be out of the question?" Chris did a double take.


    "Uh... yeah, sorry. That''s a tall order, even for me."


    "Fuck," I muttered angrily under my breath. Chris regarded me curiously for a few seconds... and then he seemed to understand.


    "You had to leave someone behind, didn''t you?" I nodded solemnly.


    "Her name is Melody," I said, hanging my head. "She... she can''t be more''n ten or twelve. Just a little girl, enved by Caesar''s Legion... She and about a <em>thousand</em> other people. Maybe <em>more</em>. Even if I get her out, there are just... there are too many other ves just like her, living under the boot-heel of the Legion." I looked up at Chris with a steely expression. "That''s why I''m here, and why I''m doing this whole <em>''Courier'' </em>thing. If I <strong>don''t</strong>, then no one else <strong>will</strong>. I''m <strong>going </strong>to wipe out the Legion, even I have to murder everyst one of them with my bare hands. And I''m <strong>going </strong>to free everyst one of the ves, even if I have to bring an army with me to do it..."


    Chris and I stood in the middle of the street in sullen silence for a few seconds before he finally started nodding.


    "Man... I hate ''big-picture'' problems like this. You''re damned, no matter what you do. You try and get the ves out piecemeal, one at a time, and the vers are likely to start offing them once they realize what you''re after. But if you wait too long..." he sighed, shaking his head. "I''ve had to deal with a few of those no-win situations in the past... like my time in The Pitt. That is <strong>never</strong> fun." I nodded in response.


    "Yeah," I grunted out. "Army it is, then." Chris chuckled, shing a smile.


    "Well, look on the bright side. The thing about ''big-picture'' solutions is they tend to stick. Take whatfort you can from that," he nodded at me. "Got any small picture problems you still need to take care of?"


    Once again, the gears in my head started to turn.


    "You know... There is <em>one </em>thing I''ve been meaning to do..."


    Lightning crackled and fizzled around me as I stepped off the teleport pad and into The Sink. Every step hit the floor with a resounding thud, thanks to all my armor and weapons loading me down.


    "Wee home, sir," Jeeves'' mellifluous tones echoed through The Sink. "I trust that sir''s sojourn to the lunar surface was tolerable?"


    "That''s certainly one way to put it..." I leaned against Jeeves'' console, and watched the holographic bars spin slowly in ce, bathing the room in blue light. "Listen, I got a question. You remember the day I got my arm sliced off?" Immediately, the bars shifted color and twitched erratically.


    "I should think, sir, that sir would be trying to forget that particrly violent and wholly unpleasant incident." I shrugged, drumming my fingers against the side of the console.


    "Eh. At this point, it was just another day at the office." Again, the bars shifted strangely. "Look, here''s what I want to know: when Roxie dragged me back here, she brought the weapons I was carrying. There was a sniper rifle in that collection, and I left it with you for safekeeping. Where''d you put it?"


    The lightning fizzled around me again, depositing me onto a familiar street of cobbled stone. My skin immediately started burning, and a foul smell flooded into my nostrils. The air was thick like soup, stinging and prickling me as it swirled around, thanks to the teleporter discing the air.


    Everything around, from the buildings ringing the square to the fountain right in front of me, was tainted by the red cloud. The only thing untainted was the glowing blue hologram of the leggy starlet, standing defiantly on top of the fountain and glowing radiantly like a beacon. Behind her, the tower of the Sierra Madre loomed like a monolith of red stone.


    The Doppler pulsating sounds from the ragged breath of the Ghost People echoed off every surface. They must have seen me arrive  you could hardly miss it, after all. Which meant they were in the shadows. Watching me.


    "Hello, gorgeous," I walked up to the edge of the fountain, and shrugged the Jury Rigger into my hands. "Sorry I''mte. Traffic was hell."

 Chapter 163: Mended Steel

    Chapter 163: Mended Steel


    The fucking Sierra Madre: about as close to Hell as you can get on Earth without passing through The Divide first. And now that I''ve returned, breathing in the poison that stung my skin and was burning my lungs from the inside out, it''s probably time to pro/con my decision <strong>not</strong> to wear my helmet with the built in gas mask and air filter.


    Pro: without a face-obscuring gas mask, Christine was <em>more</em> likely to recognize me, and <em>less </em>likely to shoot me on sight. That was kind of important, because she was the whole reason I was even back in this pisshole.


    Con: I hadn''t even been here five minutes, and it already felt like hot coals were dropping down my windpipe. Okay, yes, that is obviously an exaggeration, because I''m standing in a concentrated pocket of Cloud, watching as my skin melts off. But this air is disgusting and thoroughly unpleasant, and I''m seriously hankering for something between myself and it.


    Then again, it''s possible a gas mask won''t do shit, anyway. Elijah said as much thest time I was here, and all the Ghost People were wearing chemical suits, which didn''t seem to help any of them.


    "Yeah, didn''t do you much good, did it?" I said aloud to the Ghost Person I was holding at arms length. It stared at me with those glowing green eyes, growling and clicking through the gas mask. I couldn''t really say for sure (as it had no face), but it seemed almost perplexed. Then again, it had probably expected the bear trap fist to cut through my arm, and note to a dead stop around the metal limb.


    "That''s what I thought," I was holding the beast up by its neck, and it struggled to grab me with the twitching fingers of its free hand... but I was <em>just </em>out of reach. "This probably won''t help, either." I shoved the barrel of the Jury Rigger under its chin and pulled the trigger. With a clunk and a sh of blue holographic cubes, the Ghost Person was immediately relieved of its head.


    All it took was a casual toss, and the headless, lifeless body sailed through the air like a ragdoll, smashing into a second floor window of a nearby building. For as hard as these guys could hit, they were surprisingly light. Then again, theck of any perceived weight could <em>possibly </em>be exined away by my cybeic arm.


    Alright, time to go to work. Put simply, I have absolutely no idea where Christine actually <strong>is</strong> in this poisonous hellhole. But I can make an educated guess: the casino. Elijah used it as his base of operations for who knows how long, and she probably appropriated it after I left. The ce was practically a fortress, and it was unquestionably the best ce to survive while keeping the secrets inside safe from the outside world.


    Of course, the other problem: the casino was quiterge. Enormous, even. I could probably spend <em>days</em> wandering around the interior, searching fruitlessly for her. And I didn''t want to spend days in this fucking loony bin. I''d had enough the first time around, thank you. I wanted to find Christine, grab her, get her out, and explode the fuck out of this ce before dinner. The best way to do this would be to draw her out in the open, and get <em>her</em> toe to <em>me</em>.


    To that end, the best n here was to cause a little chaos. A few well ced massive explosions and a pile of Ghost People corpses was sure to get her attention. Knowing Christine (and how justifiably paranoid she was), she was probably already monitoring the vi through the extensivework of security cameras to keep a lookout for any wayward wastnders and/or opportunistic scavengers.


    "What do you guys think? Good n?" I asked aloud. There was no response, as I was currently surrounded by piles of Ghost People corpses. I smacked my forehead. "Oh, right! You can''t answer because you''re all dead, and killed by <strong>me</strong>! Hah! What a scatter-brain I am." I chuckled to myself, pulling out a pair of sma grenades. "Guess it''s toote to stop now. Let''s keep going!" Very casually, I tossed the primed grenades to either side of me and walked away calmly. The two buildings exploded behind me, their faades consumed utterly by green sma fire.


    I paused, wondering if perhaps Christopher was rubbing off on me.


    "Heh..." I said aloud,ing to the end of the staircase connecting the vi to the casino. "Well, that makes sense."


    Arge section of the staircase had beenpletely destroyed: exploded with shaped demolition charges, if I had to guess. There was a good fifteen or twenty foot gap between where the stairs abruptly ended and where the cliff face began, beyond which was the casino. Unless the Ghost People were particrly adept at climbing sheer vertical surfaces, they probably couldn''t get across that gap. They certainly couldn''t <em>jump</em> it. And they definitely couldn''t get across the fortified wall made of jagged metal and razor wire ringing the edge.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    When Inded on the other side of the barricade, I cast onest look down at the vi. The Red Cloud was far too thick for me to make out too many details. But I could definitely see some of the fires still burning through the haze, and the thick, ck smoke was mixing with the redness quite nicely.


    I calmly walked over to the front door. The gigantic, gaping hole that I remembered was... <em>technically</em> still there. It had been repaired with several thick sheets of scrap metal bolted and welded securely over the hole, but it was still a hole. And there was just enough space around the edges for me to work my cybeic fingers into the gap and grab hold. The metal wrenched and twisted with a shriek, and I tossed the metal blockade aside, stepping into the lobby...


    <em>PTANG!</em>


    "That''s far enough, scavver..." a rough female voice echoed through the darkness, and I stopped, right in front of the bullet hole in the floor. "The next one goes through your skull." The voice was familiar, certainly, but it sounded like the tone you get from not saying anything aloud in weeks.


    "Guess I should''ve knocked," I said, holding up my hands and looking up with a smile. A figure was standing on the balcony, wrapped in a brown cloak and a gas mask, with a rifle trained on my head. "Hello, Christine."


    "Y... wh..." she lowered the rifle, and seemed a bit tongue tied, as if she couldn''t believe what she was seeing. I could hardly me her for <em>that</em> now, could I?


    "Hello, Sheason!" I said, continuing a mock conversation with myself. "How are you doing?'' ''I''m doing fine, thanks for asking. How are you?'' ''I''m doing brilliantly, as I''m still alive.'' ''Are you? That''s fantastic!"


    "What are you <strong>doing</strong> here?" Christine asked, finally finding her voice. She cautiously made her way to the stairs, and I lowered my arms.


    "Let me exin," I said, before pausing to think. "Actually, no, there''s way too much. Let me sum up: I''m here to get you out," I said simply. She halted in her tracks, halfway down the stairs, before continuing. The closer she came, the more details of her outfit I started to recognize. Underneath the brown bup cape and hood, I could see her assassin suit. It was a little worse for wear, but still in one piece. And the gas mask looked like it had been cobbled together from... pieces of <em>Ghost People</em>, I think.


    "Get... me..." she continued walking down the stairs, but seemed confused. She pulled back her hood, and... Okay, yeah, that was <em>definitely</em> made from Ghost People. Thankfully, she reached up and pulled it off, tucking it under the arm holding her rifle. She looked remarkably unchanged from when I''d left her behind. There was a little more fuzz on her head, and she had heavier bags under her eyes, but... whatever had happened, she was still Christine. At least the scars around her mouth had started to heal up. "What do you <em>mean</em>, get me out?"


    "C''mon, Christine," I held out my arms with open palms on either side of me. "You <strong>know</strong> me. When I make a promise..."


    She stared at me for a few seconds, her mouth agape and her eyes darting back and forth. The grinding of her mental gears was practically audible.


    "... you... keep it." The edges of her mouth almost twitched into a smile. I reached out, grasping her by the shoulder firmly. I honestly couldn''t tell if she noticed my arm was metal.


    "Yes, I do," I said with a nod, and then I snapped my fingers, as if suddenly remembering something. "Oh, by the way... I''ve got a present for you." With a single motion, I grabbed the leather strap around my shoulder and pulled the suppressed sniper rifle off my back, presenting it to her. "I think you left this in the Big Empty."


    "Left..." She looked at the rifle, momentarily confused, and then her eyes went wide. The rifle in her hands and the gas mask under her arm ttered to the floor, and with a pair of trembling hands, she gingerly took hold of her rifle, turning it over and over again, inspecting it. She paid especially close attention to a spot right above the trigger assembly. "...30112ba... oh my G... the serial number..." She looked up at me in disbelief. "It <em>matches</em>! This is <strong>my</strong> rifle! How did you even <strong>get </strong>this?!"


    "I told you. You left it in the Big Empty," I folded my arms across my chest and gave her another subtle nod. "I just picked it up while I was there."


    "But... that means... you..." she muttered.


    "Yeah," I nodded at her with a shrug and a chuckle. "Look, there''s... a <strong>lot</strong> I''m gonna have to bring you up to speed on. And I know I''m springing this on you, but there was no way to get in touch with you before I arrived. If there''s anything you want to take with you on your trip back to The World, I suggest you grab it now. It won''t be here in about fifteen minutes." She looked at me curiously, back down at her rifle, and then back up at me.


    "I still... don''t... I <strong>told</strong> you when I sent you <strong>back</strong>: I can''t leave. Not while the Sierra Madre is "


    "And <em>I </em>told <em>you</em>," I grabbed her by the shoulder, looking her straight in the eyes. "I''de <strong>back </strong>for youwhen I found a way to wipe the Madre off the map. I <strong>have</strong>. Now, seriously: is there anything you want to grab before we go?"


    She looked over her shoulder, back at the Madre''s lobby, and clutched her sniper rifle tightly to her chest. After a few seconds, she shook her head slowly and turned to face me again.


    "I''m... carrying everything I own," she rasped out. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and gently urged her to follow me as I led us out the door.


    "Good, then you''re packed already! Now c''mon, we''ve gotta <strong>go</strong>." At first, she seemed a bit too dazed to resist, but by the time we got about halfway to the cliffs edge, she pulled away from me.


    "Hang on! Wait, just... just hang on a second." She kept hold of her sniper rifle, and appraised me through narrow eyes. "What do you mean... how... how can you destroy this ce? Even the bombs couldn''t destroy this ce!"


    I didn''t answer her at first. I just tapped my earpiece, making sure it was on.


    "Hey, Christopher? You reading me?" Christine furrowed her brow, and I held up a finger, letting her know I''d be a minute.


    "Loud and clear, buddy!" his voice buzzed in my ear. "What do you need?"


    "Think you can bring her in for a flyby?" I said, peering out from under the canopy in front of the entrance and looking up at the red-tinged sky. "I need something to clear the air."


    "Sure thing," he said. "Be down in a minute."


    "It''s gonna get windy soon," I said, turning to Christine (who still looked confused). "You may want to hold on to something."


    As it turns out, that was a bit of an understatement.


    It started as a low rumble at first. A barely perceptible quake, except the sound wasing from above, rather than below. The red clouds swirling overhead started churning and boiling even more violently... and then they got darker as a shadow grew from up above. The shadow grewrger andrger as the sound got louder and louder. Shifting, multicolored lights shed and flickered from within the swirling mass of poison nketing the Madre, like spurts of lightning,plete with constant booming thunder.


    And then a hurricane st of wind hit us both in the face, nearly knocking us off our feet.


    "WHAT THE HELL?!" Christine shouted, shielding her face and desperately trying to keep standing. Even I was struggling.


    For the first time in 200 years, the sun shone down on the Sierra Madre, unmolested by Red Cloud... and then it was blocked by somethingpletely solid. The massive curved outline of Mothership Zeta, impossibly gargantuan and utterly outrageous in itsplete defiance of thews of physics, hung in the air above the Sierra Madre in the same way that a brick didn''t. The wind caused by whatever alien technology kept it in the air was blowing away the Cloud like smoke in a wind tunnel. Lights along the edge of the craft flickered and shed, providing a multi-colored light show, the likes of which had never been seen before on this,plete with spotlights shining down. The gigantic saucer was so immense, that it was messing with my sense of perspective; I was somehow reminded of the mushroom cloud over The Divide. A cacophonous roar, like a Norse god of thunder gargling his own hammer, drowned out all sound and threatened to blow out our eardrums... and then it was reced by a series of bellowing musical notes, like the entire spaceship had turned into a gigantic trombone.


    B t. C. A t. Another A t, but an octave lower. And finally, an E t. And if Christopher hadn''t told me what he was going to do before we set off, I wouldn''t have known what <strong>any</strong> of those notes were called.


    "Wh... what..." Christine finally managed to squeak out as the noise started to die down into a low, dull roar. The Mothership spun gently in midair, while lights of all sizes and colors danced along the edges of the rounded hull. She stared at the alien craft in stunned disbelief. And, to be honest, I was more than a little awestruck myself at how utterly absurd this afternoon had be.


    "Lock onto our signal," I said, tapping my earpiece again. "We''re ready to go whenever."


    "Wait  what? Ready to  what?!" Christine asked, still holding her ears. "Where are we going?!"


    "Alright, hold on to something," Christopher''s voice buzzed in my ear. "Sally is going to teleport the two of you directly onto the Observation Deck."


    An electric buzz filled the air around us, and a shaft of bright blue light emerged from the Mothership, surrounding us. Everything around us started to tingle and it was like gravity had suddenly reversed itself. The light grew brighter and brighter until...


    Suddenly, the two of us were no longer in the Sierra Madre. We were standing on arge circr ss window, looking <em>down</em> at the Madre from above. The air around us was crisp and cool, while the chromed metal walls surrounding us hummed and vibrated gently. I sighed gratefully, breathing deeply of the non-poison air conditioning all around me.


    Christine immediately dropped to the floor, falling on her hands and knees, and started hyperventting.


    "Oh God... what... what is happening... what is going on..."


    I knelt down next to her, a bit uncertainly, and ced a hand on her shoulder. I wanted to say something to try and calm her down, but I couldn''t find the words. She just kept staring out the window below us, in wide-eyed horror, unable toprehend what she was seeing.


    "Culture shock," I heard Christopher say through the ship''s inte. "It''s nothing to be ashamed of. Happens to the best of us."


    "It''s..." Christine started to shake her head, and two tiny droplets of moisture fell on the ss. "It''s just... too much."


    "Hold on to something," Christopher said, and suddenly the view beyond the window swiftly grew distant. "I''m taking us up to firing range." There was no motion around us beyond the gentle vibrations, but the Sierra Madre got smaller and smaller. The Madre and the vi and the tiny vige nestled in the mountains seemed to disappear behind the haze of the Red Cloud and smog; it flooded the space in the wake of Mothership Zeta going up... but it was still recognizable by the diminishing red smear.


    There was a long pause, as Zeta halted its ascent and hovered several miles above the red smear blemishing the surface.


    The image beyond the window was consumed by a bright sh, threatening to blind us. The ship shook violently. A low frequency bellow echoed off every surface. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the green light dimmed, and eventually disappeared. Everything seemed to calm down.


    The red smear had been wiped away. In its ce was a perfectly round, swiftly cooling crater, several miles wide.


    The Sierra Madre was no more.


    The lightning of our arrival by teleport died down, and Christine and I appeared on Vegas Boulevard  thankfully, <em>on </em>it rather than <em>above</em> it this time. The two of us were standing at the foot of the stairs leading into the Lucky 38. I looked around, and couldn''t help butugh: apparently, the inhabitants of Vegas had be so jaded to this nonsense that no one was even giving us a second nce.


    Christine was standing like a statue, a few steps away from me, holding her arms like she was afraid they were going to fall off. I''d tried to exin everything on the trip over, but it was like I said before: there was just too much. But I did my best to hit the pertinent highlights, and she seemed to have rallied herself quite well. Just like I knew she would.


    "You know... the Brotherhood probably thinks you''re dead by now," I said, standing next to her. She slowly nodded, but her expression didn''t change.


    "You''re probably right," she growled out in a hoarse whisper.


    "And now that the Sierra Madre is destroyed, it''ll never hurt anyone again. No one can weaponize it if it''s not there. If you ask me, I''d say you''ve fulfilled your oath multiple times over." She grunted in the affirmative, but was still rooted in ce. So I decided to keep going. "You''ve got a chance at a fresh start. A clean te. Not many people get that. It would be a shame if you didn''t make the most of it..." I grabbed her by the shoulder and leaned in close, pointing up at the 38''s tower. "...and I know for a fact that there''s a girl up there who would <em>love</em> to see you again."


    "Are you sure..." she whispered, staring at the stairs. She wasn''t moving, and her eyes were looking ahead,pletely unfocused. She started babbling. "It''s... I haven''t... She hasn''t seen me in <strong>years</strong>. I''ve... I mean, I''ve... <em>changed</em>. How... how do you know she... I just... after all this time, I don''t think... "


    I walked up the first few steps past her, and turned on my heel, offering her my hand.


    "Don''t think. And don''t worry! After all, there''s only one way to find out for sure." She looked up at me uncertainly, and I nodded. "Trust me."


    She clenched her jaw one final time and gulped loudly. Gingerly, she reached forward to take my hand, and I guided her up the stairs.


    <em>Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat</em>


    <em>(Grow faster, faster!)</em>


    <em>Ooh, ooh, can you feel my love heat?</em>


    <em>Come on and sit on my hot-seat of love</em>


    <em>And tell me how do you feel right after all!</em>


    <em>I''d like for you and I</em>


    <em>(To go romancing!)</em>


    <em>Say the word:</em>


    <em>Your wish is mymand...</em>


    The mellifluous lyrics of Queen were buzzing through the speakers as I stepped out of the elevator and into the cocktail lounge. Christine had weathered the trip up the elevator rather well, all things considered; it was obvious the enclosed space had made her ufortable, but she''d powered through it like a champ.


    Still, she was rather quick to leave the elevator.


    "Y''okay?" I asked. She nodded quickly, breathing deliberately with her eyes closed. While she was busy collecting herself, I ventured into the revolving restaurant to find Veronica. She was in a nearby booth, sitting with Three Dog; her box of vinyl records was open, and the two of them were surrounded by stacks of holotapes.


    "Man, this is <strong>great</strong>!" Three Dog said, while pouring over the various gatefold LP sleeves. "I''ve never even <strong>heard</strong> of any of these bands!"


    "We''ve made plenty of copies," Veronica said with a smile and nod. "You''re wee to it all." Three Dogughed, clearly thinking on the possibilities.


    "I wonder what my listeners will think of Gxy News changing formats..."


    "Oh!" Veronica looked up, finally noticing me. "I thought I heard the elevator. Hey Sheason! What''s up?"


    "Hey, V. I''ve got a surprise for you," I said, quickly ncing back at the elevator; Christine was waiting just out of sight. "There''s someone who wants to see you." I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder as I got out of the way, and came to a stop next to Three Dog.


    Veronica very briefly looked confused as she got up out of the booth. And then, when Christine slowly emerged from behind the wall, Veronica very nearly fell back down in her seat. Her eyes went wide as saucers. Christine was practically shaking, she looked so anxious... but she kept going, waving nervously at Veronica with a sheepish chuckle.


    "H-hey... Vonnie..." Christine said. Her voice was soft, but even the music had gone quiet, as if to let them have this moment.


    "...Cri?" Veronica''s mouth was hanging open in shock and disbelief, and it took several seconds for her legs to start moving. "How are... but..."


    Within seconds, the two of them rushed forward, and they met in a tearful embrace. There were no questions, because there was no longer a need. It was clear that as soon as they saw each other, everything else in their worlds just fell away, and all that mattered to each of them was each other. To be honest, it was a sweet scene, seeing the two of them ovee with such raw emotion after being separated for so long. I half expected the restaurant to spontaneously turn into a flowery meadow around them, and I was a <em>little</em> disappointed that the world hadn''t gone to slow motion. The only thing really missing was the theme to Doctor Zhivago. In fact, that reminds me...


    "Hey, Yes Man? You reading me?" I asked, tapping my earpiece. Static crackled in my ear.


    "Hello, sir! What can I do for you today?"


    "Did you get that copy of Vera Keyes'' dress I had Jeeves replicate earlier?"


    "Yes sir! It was delivered to Veronica''s room alongside those rose petals you told me to scatter!"


    "And the champagne?" I asked. Three Dog shot me a curious look.


    "On its way!"


    "Fantastic!" I said, unable to keep myself from smiling. "I knew I could count on you."


    "Oh, man!" Three Dog chuckled with a cigarette in hand next to me, just as engrossed with the spectacle as I was. "I can''t <strong>wait</strong> to hear the story behind this!" Before I could tell him, I felt arge hande to rest on my shoulder.


    "That''s a sweet thing you did," Christopher said, as he unexpectedly appeared next to me.


    "HOLY FUCK!" I eximed, iling wildly. "The hell did youe from?!" Chris shrugged with augh. "Fuck sake, man! You nearly gave me a heart attack! How can you even <strong>move</strong> that quiet? You''re, like, 6'' 5" and 300 pounds!"


    "270 pounds, actually. But now I''m just being pedantic."


    "My point stands," I said, trying to calm my heart back down to normal. Chris shrugged, and pointed at his Pip Boy.


    "So, while the two lovebirds catch up, I''ve got a favor to ask of you. I''ve got a side-quest that I want to check off the list, but I''m not sure where to start looking. The wiki hasn''t been updated, and I figured I should ask you, since, you know. You <em>live </em>here."


    "What''s up?" I asked, curious enough to gloss over asking what the hell a ''wiki'' was.


    "There''s a Brotherhood of Steel chapter in the Mojave, right? Do you know where they are?"


    "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, as Chris and I descended into the Hidden Valley bunker. "I mean... I didn''t exactly leave on good terms thest time I came here."


    "Don''t worry," Chris'' booming voice echoed in the antechamber. "I''ve got this."


    Honestly, that wasn''t reallyforting, considering that he was wearing his winterized T-51b. That just made me think he was expecting heavy fire. Things were not helped when we got halfway into the antechamber, and the door at the end opened; five Brotherhood pdins filed out, all armed with gauss weapons. The one in the center came to a halt, nked by the four others, and carefully removed his helmet.


    "I certainly never expected to see <strong>you</strong> again, Courier," Ramos said, staring at me with a half-scowl. He then slowly turned his gaze to Christopher. "But you... I don''t know <em>you</em>, wastnder. Where did you find that armor?" In response, Chris startedughing heartily.


    "Ad Victoriam, brother!" Christopher said loudly, pounding a fist against his chest with a ringing ng of metal on metal. That immediately got the attention of the pdins, who seemed to be caughtpletely off guard. "Ie to you on behalf of the Capitol Wastnd Brotherhood of Steel. I seek an audience with your Elder, Nn McNamara."


    "You certainly have interesting friends, Mr. Fisher..." McNamara said from behind his desk as Chris and I walked into his office. I couldn''t help but feel an involuntary clench in my bowels when I realized the dozen pdins in this office were just as heavily armed as everyone else. "I''m actually d you''re here. You never returned after Veronica left, so I never got the chance to apologize."


    Now, <em>I </em>was the one to be caught off guard.


    "Apologize?" I asked. McNamara nodded somberly.


    "Cutter''s squad acted without authorization. His breach of quarantine and pursuit of you both was an... <em>uneptable</em> failure of mine." At first, I expected him to continue. But no, he just sat there, apparently thinking <strong>that</strong> was good enough.


    I didn''t know what I could say to that. I didn''t know if I should be relieved that he didn''t <em>actually </em>order Cutter''s team to kill me, or insulted that he thought <em>that </em>constituted a decent apology. So I didn''t say anything. I just stepped back, letting Christopher take the floor.


    "Hello, Elder McNamara!" Christopher said happily, holding his helmet under his arm. I couldn''t help but shake my head; even though the lighting was so hriously dim down here, he was <em>still </em>wearing his sunsses. "It''s a pleasure to finally meet you!"


    "My chief of security, Pdin Ramos, informs me you wish to speak with me?" McNamara asked. Christopher justughed and shook his head.


    "Sort of!" he said, pulling a small metal disk off his belt and tossing it on the ground. "I''m not actually the one who wants to speak with you. I''m just the messenger."


    "Messenger?" McNamara repeated.


    The disk on the ground suddenly activated with a tinny electric hum, and a blue shimmer appeared. It wasn''t a teleport signature: it was a <em>hologram</em>. The image of an old man winked into view, flickering slightly as it began bathing the whole room in bright blue light. The man was balding with a huge beard, and he was hunched over, leaning heavily on a cane. What stuck out most, however, were the robes: it was the same sort McNamara was wearing.


    "Hello, Nn," the old man said, coughing briefly. The hologram must have been distorting his voice, because it had a definite audio nge to the quality. "It''s certainly been a while."


    "Owyn Lyons!?" McNamara eximed, and he actually got up out of his seat in surprise. "How is this possible? We haven''t heard news from your expedition in... <em>decades</em>! We all assumed your chapter had been lost!" Owyn chuckled, coughing again.


    "Well, as the saying goes, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." The hologram flickered, and Owyn tapped his cane against the holographic floor several times. "The Brotherhood is consolidating our hold on the East. Trouble is brewing north of the Capitol Wastnd, in a ce known as The Commonwealth, and we need your help."


    "Consolidating?" McNarama asked, narrowing his eyes. "What are you talking about?"


    "Things have changed," Owyn said. "The <em>Codex </em>has changed." McNamara looked aghast.


    "The Codex has... Are you <em>mad</em>? You don''t have the authority to alter the Codex!" he practically shouted. But Owyn just chuckled again.


    "I know. That''s why I wasn''t the one to change it." Owyn looked off to the side with a nod, and disappeared with a shimmer; it was almost like he stepped out of frame  which, on reflection, I suppose he <em>did</em>. The hologram wobbled for a brief moment... and then someone different appeared in view.


    Unlike Owyn, the new figure that appeared in the hologram was very clearly a young man. He looked like he was still a teenager, with his clean-shaven face, and close cropped high-and-tight haircut. However, his face was also blemished by an absolutely <em>massive </em>diagonal gash on his right cheek. If the stitches were any indication, the wound was recent. He wasn''t wearing a robe, but instead was d in a jumpsuit, heavybat boots, and a bomber jacket which was emzoned with the Brotherhood cogwheel symbol on the back. Several braided cords were hanging off the metal epaulettes on his shoulders.


    "... Who are you?" McNamara asked, curiously. The new figure turned to the Chapter Elder, holding his hands behind his back.


    "I am the Lion Heart, whose soul is forged from Eternal Steel, and tempered in the fires of our endless conflicts," he said in a powerful,manding voice that practically dripped with authority. Several of the pdins in the room even dropped to one knee as he spoke. "Elder Lyons speaks with my authority, Elder McNamara... for I am Arthur Maxson,st of the Maxson line, and rightful Commander of the Brotherhood. It''s time for us to leave the past behind... and look to the <em>future</em>."


    "Y''know, thest time I was there, McNamara was talking about finding a Maxon," I said as Christopher and I returned topside, walking to our respective vehicles. "I had no idea where to even start looking. And here youe, practically dropping Maxson in theirp! I''ll bepletely honest, I was <strong>not</strong> expecting that." Christopher shrugged.


    "No one expects the Brotherhood of Steel," heughed, like it was a hrious joke. I didn''t get it. "Still... I hope I did the right thing."


    "What do you mean?" I asked. "They''re getting out of the Mojave, they no longer have to get involved in all this nonsense, they''re heading east to join up with the rest of their dudes... seems like enough of a happy ending to me." Chris shrugged, and kept walking to the Roadkill, hovering in the air next to my Corvega.


    "Yeah, well... sometimes I don''t know what these quests are going to do in the long run. I mean, look at what happened when I shot down the Support Mothership! Look at all the problems that caused."


    "Hey, no, c''mon man," I said, hopping up on my Corvega''s hood. "You couldn''t have predicted the Enve getting their hands on that. You can''t hold yourself ountable for that kind of shit beyond your control."


    "Maybe," Chris sighed, leaning against the Roadkill; it didn''t move. "But sometimes... I worry about Maxson. I really do."


    "How do you figure?" I asked. "Seems like a nice enough kid to me. I mean, a little young, but..."


    "Well, that''s to be expected, he''s only fifteen. But I can''t reallyment about <em>that</em>, I was just neen when I left the Vault four years ago." I did the math in my head quickly and holy shit, this guy was <em>how</em> young? Fucking hell! Chris continued. "No, what I worry about is... I dunno. He''s just... he doesn''t have a strong center, you know?"


    There was a long pause.


    "No... no, I don''t know what that means," I said honestly. "The fuck are you talking about?"


    "What I mean is..." Chris waved his hands in the air, searching for the words. "He''s easily malleable. He''s never really had his own opinions about <strong>anything</strong>. He doesn''t really have any strong convictions. He just goes along with what everyone else around him tells him to do."


    "And he''s supposed to be a <em>leader</em>?" I asked, shaking my head. "Yeah, you''re right, that doesn''t seem like a good situation."


    "I''m probably worrying over nothing," he said. "I mean, he <em>is</em> a teenager, after all. He''s got plenty of years ahead of him to grow and turn into the man he needs to be. And he definitely has good qualities. He has a great head for tactics, and he practically has a photographic memory. Besides..." He shrugged. "As long as Owyn and Sarah Lyons are around to keep him on the straight and narrow, he should do fine."


    Christopher shook his head and started tough to himself.


    "Ah well. I''m sure it''ll all work out for the best, eventually."

 Chapter 164: Roundabout

    Chapter 164: Roundabout


    <em>Guess who''s back, children? That''s right! You can HEEEEEEEAR MEEEEE! THREEEEE DAWG! OW! Ya can''t stop the signal, baby! Sorry for the interruption, but I''m back with a treat for all y''all listening! Some BRAND! NEW! MUSIC! That''s right kiddies, I''ve got some new music not heard since the Big One, and you are gonna hear it here first! Don''t you feel special? Damn right you do! AHWOOOOO!</em>


    I brought my Corvega to a halt in front of the Jacobstown front gate, and the bushes to either side got up and approached me.


    "Oh," the super mutant in the ghillie suit grunted out as soon as he recognized me. "It''s you again."


    "You get many other visitors up here, driving cars with racing stripes?" I asked with a smirk. The bush in front of me rustled slightly.


    "Who are they?" The walking foliage motioned with his gun at the Roadkill and the Deuce behind me.


    "It''s cool, they''re with me," I said. "There''s a super mutant from the east coast, wants to see Marcus. I promised him that I''d make introductions." The mutant in the ghillie suit stared at me for a few seconds (at least, I <em>think</em> he stared. Hard to tell under all that foliage), but eventually stepped aside to let us in.


    "Stay out of trouble, kid."


    "Marcus!" I yelled, waving to get his attention. "There y''are! Been looking all over for you, man!" Even from this distance, his orange metal shoulder made him distinctive from the other super mutants, so it''s not like I could miss him. Therge super mutant turned at the sound of my voice, while smoke from his cigar curled around his head.


    "Oh, if it isn''t the Courier again," Marcus pulled the cigar from his mouth and pointed at the vehicles behind me. "And friends!" He chuckled and shook his head, discing the halo of smoke. "You need a hobby other than collecting people." Behind me, I heard the top hatch of the Roadkill pop open.


    "You know, I get the same spiel from Sarah every time I head back east," Chris said, stepping out of the hovercraft with a thud. "Though, to be fair, we kinda ended up collecting <em>each other</em> for our adventures thest few days." Chris paused, cocking his head to the side as if pondering those words. "Er... so to speak."


    Marcus regarded the Vault kid carefully as he approached and held out his hand to the mutant. After a moment''s hesitation, Marcus shook it heartily  though he did seem surprised that Chris'' hand wasrge enough to not get swallowed up entirely by his meaty fist.


    "Nice suit," he said with a chuckle. "My name''s Marcus. I''m pretty much in charge here in Jacobstown." Chris nodded, smiling broadly.


    "Oh, I know who you are. I must''ve read my father''s journals about a million times over." Marcus did a double take, and narrowed his eyes in confusion at Chris, who just kept smiling and patted his chest. "My name is Christopher. I''m James'' son."


    Marcus'' jaw dropped.


    "You are having me on!" he practically shouted.


    "I''m serious! I know <em>all </em>about my old man''s shenanigans as the Chosen One. Guess this kind of adventuring, crazy, heroic spirit just kinda runs in the blood, right?"


    Chris made a clicking sound with his mouth and pointed at me with a nod. Before I could question what the hell <em>that </em>meant, he started patting Marcus on the back, leading him to the Roadkill andughing. To be honest, the whole thing happened so fast that I wasn''t entirely sure I''d <em>actually</em> seen what I <em>thought</em> I''d seen.


    "Look, you and I have a lot to talk about," Chris said as the two of them walked. "I mean, I <em>definitely </em>want to find out what my old man was like back in the old days, before he settled in the Capital Wastnd. But the main reason I''m here is because I''ve got someone who wants to meet you. Hey Fawkes!" No answer. "<strong>FAWKES! </strong>You awake?"


    An indistinct grunt echoed from deep inside of the Roadkill. Chris sighed heavily and shook his head.


    "Uh... gimmie a minute. This... could take a while," he said, climbing back into the hovercraft; the fact that he seemingly disappeared into the darkness entirely and I couldn''t see where he''d gone made me wonder if his hovercraft had some of that ''bigger-on-the-inside'' alien tech like the Mothership. Marcus stood there, a bit stunned, and I made my way over to his side.


    "Yeah, he does that," I said, folding my arms across my chest. Rather thankfully, because it managed to soften the blow when he backhanded my chest with what he probably thought was a love-tap. It almost knocked my off my feet.


    "What the hell! The Chosen One''s kid shows up, and you don''te to me first?"


    "What, just like that you believe him?" I asked. "I didn''t believe him until I saw the Vault 13 suit hanging on the wall."


    "Of course I believe him. He''s practically a carbon copy of James, except with blonde hair instead of brown. This is just the kind of thing I meant when I said ''call me if things get weird,'' you know?"


    "Yeah, I know. I''m sorry, but we really didn''t have time to visit before we had to travel to the lunar surface to fight the Space Enve in their Secret Nazi Moon Base."


    There was a long pause.


    "What," Marcus deadpanned.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll tell you all about it tomorrow."


    "Tomorrow?"


    "Yeah, that''s kind of the other reason I''m here, actually..." I nced back at the Roadkill; it was shaking in midair, but I still couldn''t see either Chris or Fawkes. "It wasn''t just to introduce you to those two idiots. I''ve got a bit of a business proposal for you."


    "Do I even want to know?"


    "I''ve spent most of today visiting all the major yers in the Mojave, trying to get them together for a meeting in the Lucky 38 tomorrow. The Followers, the Three Families, the Boomers, the Kings... I even talked to some folks from Goodsprings and Novac. So far, everyone has agreed toe  even on such short notice  and I thought I''d extend an invitation to you as well, so Jacobstown can... shall we say, get in on the ground floor."


    "A meeting?" Marcus eyed me curiously, taking a long puff of his cigar. "What kind of meeting?"


    "One where we decide on the future of the Mojave once I send both the NCR and Legion packin'' with their tails between their legs," I said with a smirk. "I don''t want Vegas to be just like it was before the bombs. And it needs to change from how it is now, still trying to shake off House''s influence. I want a ce were people can look to the future, rather than clinging desperately to the past andmenting about how great things <em>used</em> to be. I''m gonna try and make something new, and something <strong>better</strong>... for everyone and anyone who wants the chance to <strong>be </strong>better. I want that n to include you, and everyone else in Jacobstown."


    Marcus thoughtfully rubbed his chin for a few seconds, contemting the idea. Cigar smoke leaked out of his nostrils in oily, dirty ribbons.


    "It''s an interesting idea..." he said, pulling out the cigar and blowing a massive smoke ring. "But how would I even get to Vegas in the first ce? There''s a reason Jacobstown is so far out of the way. People just don''t like us muties, and it''s been <strong>years</strong> since I was able to roll into a town ande out un-shot. And that was just because of James."


    "Well, <em>obviously</em> that''s one of the hurdles we''re going to have to work on. But I think I have a good short term solution to get you to the meeting, so we can all work on a better long term solution." I leaned to the side to point at the deuce. "You guys can use that. It can hold Stripe in the back hidden by the tarp, no problem, so I''m sure you and a few others won''t have any problem either. Besides, once you guys get close, I''ll dispatch a squad of securitrons. They''ll give you an armed escort all the way through the city, just to be on the safe side."


    "Call me crazy," Marcus grunted. "But I still think someone is going to notice a super mutant behind the wheel before we even get close to the Vegas wall."


    "And I think you''re giving people too much credit," I said, unable to hold back a smile. "Nobody has noticed or said shit about Roxie driving the deuce, and she does it all the time."


    On cue, I heard a bark from the inside of the truck cab. Roxie rested her front paws on the window frame and stuck her head out, panting happily and obliviously. Marcus stared for several seconds, his jaw working uselessly and the gears in his head grinding so hard that they were practically audible.


    "Yeah... don''t bother trying to figure out how she does it," I said with a shrug, patting him on the side of the arm. "I haven''t worked it out my own self."


    "... And here I thought my time with the Chosen One meant I''d seen <strong>everything</strong>."


    It was at this point Christopher and Fawkes emerged from within the Roadkill; Fawkes was still rubbing his face, blearily trying to wake himself up.


    "Why is it you only ever wake me up when I''m dreaming about the twins?" Fawkes grunted to Chris. "You always manage to wake me up before it gets good!"


    "Marcus," Chris said, hopping out of the hovercraft to get in front of the still waking-up mutant. "I''d like you to meet a friend of mine. Fawkes, Marcus. Marcus, Fawkes." By now, Fawkes had seemingly regained basic control of his motor skills, and reached out to shake Marcus'' hand.


    "Ah, hello! It''s nice to meet you, I''ve heard a great deal about you and your aplishments. I''ve also heard about this settlement! I''ve been curious to know what a peaceful metahumanmunity is like, ever since I heard the first rumors..."


    "It''s nice to meet you too. And, really, Jacobstown is nothing special," Marcus said. "We''re honestly all just folk now, trying to get by." He paused, taking a draw from his cigar to try and mask his deliberation as to how he should phrase his next question: "But... ah... if you don''t mind me asking, where are <em>you</em> from? You don''t look like one of The Master''s or one of those Second Gens..." He chuckled. "I didn''t think we could turn yellow."


    "Ah, yes! Well, I originally hail from Vault 87. They had vats of FEV there, before the bombs, and..."


    I didn''t get to hear the rest, because a pair of thunderous footfalls was approaching fast, apanied by a harsh voice that sounded like someone woke up every morning to gargle some gravel and broken ss.


    "Jimmy!" the rough voice said before a pair of familiar hands wearing oversized gardening gloves wrapped themselves around me, picking me up off the ground. "Oh, little Jimmy, it''s so wonderful to see you! Give your grandma a hug, snookums!" Thankfully, the noise had given me time to prepare, so I avoided the same injuries as thest time this happened.


    "Hello, Lily," I said with a smile, wedging my cybeic arm in just the right spot in her bear hug to keep her from crushing me. "It''s nice to see you too."


    "OH!" she seemed genuinely surprised. "You''re not Jimmy! Of course you''re not!" She paused, her grip around me loosening for half a second beforeing back round again. "Well, give your grandma some sugar anyway! It''s been <strong>ages </strong>since you came to visit!"


    <em>I will remember you!</em>


    <em>Your silhouette will charge the view!</em>


    <em>Of distant atmospheeeeeeeere!</em>


    <em>Call it morning driving thru the sound and even in the valleeeeey!</em>


    "Sounds like Three Dog is adjusting to the new music rather well," I said with a smile and nod. Chris, Cass and I were all up on Mothership Zeta for a bit of well earned rxation, and Gxy News Radio was ying on the ship''s inte. I kicked back in the metal chair bolted to the deck, cracked open a beer on the armrest, and enjoyed the view of the and stars beyond the window in front of me.


    "Oh, yeah! He thinks it''s great!" Chris swung his leg over the back of the chair next to me and sat down with a fresh six pack in hand. "It''s a bit too soon to say for certain if everyone else will like the change, but apparently he''s already gotten a few calls, praising the new tracks. I think Veronica''d like that."


    "Speakin'' of, where is V? I haven''t seen her since breakfast this morning," Cass said from somewhere behind me. She was walking around the room, checking out all the various bits and bobs Chris had stored here; apparently, he called it his ''trophy cab'' because this was where he kept all the souvenirs from his adventures.


    "Yeah... I don''t think we''re going to see a lot of either her or Christine," I said, unable to hold back a chuckle. "I mean... you <em>saw </em>the two of them at the table, right? They hardly touched any of the food, since they were so focused on each other!"


    "Fair point," Cass shrugged. "They deserve th'' win."


    "From everything you''ve said about those two, it seems to me like they''ve got a lot of catching up to do," Chris chuckled along with me. "Good for them."


    "So, here''s a question fer ya," Cass leaned against the back of Chris'' chair and poked the top of his head before pointing at a spot behind me. "What are you gonna do with th'' Prime head?"


    I shifted in my chair to look at where Cass was pointing, and saw the giant severed head of Liberty Prime sitting silently in the corner. The single eye was dim, but notpletely burned out, and every once in a while it pulsed softly.


    "Oh, trust me. I''ll make good use of the big lug  probably rebuild him. Again. But hey, at least this time I won''t have to start from scratch, right?"


    "I''m still surprised you were even able to save <strong>that </strong>much," I said, knocking back another gulp of beer. "I thought for sure you''d have been like Cass''n me: too busy worrying about everything exploding to worry about too much else."


    "Well, I had to go back for at least the head. The braincase is where the AI core and memory databanks are located," he grinned, toasting his ss in the direction of the giant metal head. "Here''s to ya, big guy! I''ll have you back up and on your feet in no time!"


    The single eye pulsed brightly, and the robot head tried to stutter out some words. But unfortunately, it was too garbled and unintelligible to understand.


    "The thing I want to know," I shifted to look back at Chris. "Did he win his fight with the Mega Patriot?"


    "I think so," Chris nodded, taking another drink. "I mean, there wasn''t much left when I found him, and there wasn''t much time to check before everything went boom. But I''m <em>pretty sure</em> I saw most of Prime''s sword buried in the Patriot''s face."


    "Good man!" I practically shouted, holding my drink up in Prime''s direction again. "I knew you''d kick his ass!" Chris and I startedughing, but we stopped when Cass spoke up again.


    "Hey, Shea! C''mon an'' take a look at this!" I grumbled a bit as I reluctantly pulled myself away from my seat. And I had just gotten myself settled, too. But I eventually got up and made my way over to Cass, who was standing next to a bobblehead stand, emzoned with the Vault Tec logo on the side. Cass poked a couple, andughed as theirically oversized heads started wobbling. "I thought he was kiddin'' about th'' whole bobblehead collection!"


    "That is certainly a lot of bobbleheads," was the first phrase to spring to mind. There were twenty of the damn things, all in various poses and all wearing Vault suits, but the really odd thing... "Hang on, did you find these in the wastnd? There isn''t a scratch on ''em."


    "Oh yeah, I found those all over the ce! The whole bobblehead hunt is a great way for stat building if you''ve got the right SPECIAL setup." Chris took another drink, and Cass wasn''t really paying attention (still flicking the heads of the various tiny statues), but the little voice in my head was screaming his British head off.


    "Okay, <strong>no</strong>," I said, prodding Chris in the chest. "I''m not letting this shit go by unquestioned anymore. What the fuck are you talking about, stat building? And I want an answer I can understand, none of that iprehensible gibberish bullshit jargon you like to spout." Chris looked at me curiously, but kept smiling.


    "What, have you never checked out your SPECIAL stats on your Pip Boy? What did you think that ''STATS'' button meant? It''s been there the whole time, you''ve just got to tab away from the medical diagram. Here, let me show you." He motioned for me to give him my arm, and I barely raised it halfway before he took the armputer in hand and started flicking through the functions. "There you go, all your vital statistics, easy to understand on a 1 to 10 scale. Take a look."


    "... huh." I said aloud as I read what were (apparently) my SPECIAL stats. All fairly straightforward stuff, if it was urate. Several of my stats  like strength, intelligence, and luck  were a <em>lot </em>higher than I was expecting, but there was one thing about this list that immediately caught my attention because of how low it was (at least,pared to all the rest):


    "Hang on, <em>six</em>?" I yelled, tapping the screen, thinking it was a mistake. "<strong>SIX</strong>?! I have more endurance than that!" Next to my shoulder I heard Cass snort out a scoffingugh.


    "That''s up fer debate," sheughed, before wrapping her arms around my shoulders and giving me a soft peck on the cheek. I floundered a bit; on the one hand I <em>wanted</em> to be a bit upset, but on the other hand I was not <em>actually</em> upset at all. And then I floundered even more when she started nibbling on my earlobe, casual as you please, and started whispering into my ear: "Ahhh, y''know I''m just teasin'' ya..."


    "Hello sir!" a very familiar voice red out of my Pip Boy after beeping several times, and Cass jumped at the sound. "Do you have a free moment? I have some news!"


    "Uh... kinda busy here, Yes Man," I said. However, Cass pulled away from me, her cheeks already starting to redden. Damn. I''m pretty sure I heard her mutter something about forgetting Chris was standing there. I let out a disappointed sigh. "Alright, what do you need?"


    "Well, I think it''s time we talked about the President situation!" Yes Man said cheerfully. "His visit is, after all, fast approaching! Do you think you coulde down to the penthouse at your earliest convenience?"


    "Uh... sure. I''ll be down soon," I said.


    "Take your time!" Yes Man said. "I''m here to work for <em>your </em>schedule!" With a click, the transmission ended.


    "Alright, Yes Man," I said, stepping off the teleport tform in a flurry of sparks. "What have you got for me?"


    "One moment, sir!" he replied from the other room, his voice booming and echoing through the speakers. "We should probably wait for our other arrival!"


    "Other arrival?" I asked aloud, leaning on the railing.


    Ding.


    The elevator doors opened up, and secondster Boone emerged. He nodded once at me, and calmly made his way to a spot at my side.


    "What''s this about?" he grunted, folding his arms across his chest.


    "It''s about the NCR President, Aaron Kimball!" Yes Man said. "As you know, I intercepted and decoded a military radio transmission, and I have conformation that the President is going to make an appearance at Hoover Dam on Christmas Day!"


    "Wait, Christmas Day?" I asked aloud. "That... that''s the 25th, right?" Boone nodded next to me, and I paused, thinking. "What <em>day</em> is it right now? I can''t remember."


    "Pretty sure it''s the 22nd," Boone said simply. I shook my head and sighed.


    "Fuck me, where the hell has the time gone?" I chuckled softly, scratching the back of my head. "So, why''s heing to visit now?"


    "Probably to boost the morale of the troops!" Yes Man replied. "However, I''ve been doing some digging into some of House''s files. ording to projections Mr. House made, Kimball has an 83.75% chance of being assassinated! Whoops!"


    "And that was before we started fuckin'' with the Legion for shits and giggles, I bet," I said, leaning against the railing. Yes Man''s monitor flickered.


    "Yes, indeed!" Yes Man replied. "Anyway, it looks like Mr. House thought it was important to keep President Kimball alive!" That threw me for a loop. Before I could ask why, Yes Man continued. "Mr. House ran projections on how the NCR public will react to a defeat at Hoover Dam! Overwhelmingly, they''ll me Kimball!"


    "So, if we save the President it''ll just make him look like an idiot in the long run?" I asked rhetorically. Cautiously, I turned to Boone. "Would you be okay with that?" Boone shrugged.


    "Better than letting him die. Besides..." Boone shrugged. "He''s the whole reason the NCR is even <em>in </em>this God-awful mess in the Mojave. He''s no Tandi, that''s for sure." He snorted derisively. "I''m... not a fan."


    "Not to mention," Yes Man continued, drawing our attention back to the screen. "If you save the President''s life, he''s sure to owe you a favor! A favor from a head of state seems like a good draw card to have! However: if Kimball dies at Hoover Dam, there''s no obvious scapegoat for the NCR public to me. So they''ll me Vegas instead!"


    "That does not sound good," which seemed like the understatement of the century.


    "No, it doesn''t! Mr. House''s only concern was the reduced tourism and the reduced ie as a consequence. However, I believe a negative view of Vegas from the NCR public will almost certainly hinder your overreaching ns for Vegas as well!"


    "There''s just one problem," I said, thinking back to my unfortunate meeting with Ambassador Crocker the other day. "I don''t think the NCR really likes ''The Courier'' all that much. Pretty sure they''re not going to let me even get close enough to the President to protect him."


    "I think that''s why I''m here," Boone grunted. He turned back to the screen. "Those intercepted transmissions you picked up  did they tell you who''s in charge of security?"


    "Yes, they did!" Yes Man replied happily. "A Ranger Captain named Graham Grant is in charge of security for the event!"


    "And that''s our in," Boone smirked. I looked up at him questioningly. "I know Grant from my 1st Recon days. He may be a ''shoot first, the questions aren''t important'' sort, but he trusts anyone who''s served alongside him inbat. If you let me do the talking, I can get us close enough to help."


    "Fantastic!" I pped him on the shoulder with augh. "Let''s go save President Dumbass then!"


    "Kimball," Boone corrected. I shrugged.


    "Whatever."


    "Once the President is safe, there''s one more thing you need to take care of..." Yes Man began, but I held up a finger and he immediately stopped. My Pip Boy was beeping at me, in the same way it always did when I got a message. And that made me slightly apprehensive.


    "Hang on... Yes Man, did you just send something to my Pip Boy?" I asked. Yes Man''s monitor flickered.


    "No, I haven''t sent you anything. I''m talking to you right now! There''s no need to send you anything!" The bottom immediately fell out of my stomach, as I started to wonder just what the fuck was going on. I fiddled with the knobs until I came to the message tab on my wristputer. It was little more than a few simple words:


    13th and Carson


    I stared at the words for a few seconds, unable to make sense of it. Seemed like an address... and the only ce those street names would really work would have to be somewhere out in Freeside. I racked my brain, trying to ce it on a mental map... And then, it hit me like a sledgehammer to the back of the skull.


    It couldn''t be. It wasn''t possible. But my heart skipped a beat just the same, and before I knew what was happening, my feet were already carrying me to the exit.


    "...I have to go," I muttered. As I ran to the elevator, Yes Man called out to say onest thing.


    "Be careful out there! It won''t be long before the Legion makes its move!"


    It was pitch dark by the time I reached my destination in Freeside. The point where 13th street met Carson Avenue was a nondescript warehouse... and on the roof was a broken skylight. This was where my fight with Tuera had abruptlye to an end, obviously, and there was only one reason anyone would tell me toe here. I looked around apprehensively... but I was all alone.


    Or so I thought.


    "You followed my advice," a soft voice called out to me from the darkness. I turned at the sound, trying in vain to control my breathing.


    A familiar female figure walked out into the open, from behind the still dented and broken AC box at the far end of the roof. She was wearing civilian clothes  jeans, a ck jacket over a white shirt, with a ck baseball cap covering her face  but I knew those curves like the back of my hand.


    "Tuera..." I whispered out hoarsely, hardly able to believe it. "How are..." I gulped, trying to swallow away the dryness in my mouth. "How did you <em>survive</em>?" She kept her hands in her jacket pockets and shrugged.


    "How did <em>you</em>?" she smiled at me from under the brim of her ballcap. My mouth twitched, and I let out a single, wheezing chuckle. Every fiber of my being wanted to run up to her as fast as I could, wrap my arms around her, and never let go.


    Both of us stood at opposite ends of the rooftop, rooted in ce.


    "When... when you and Panzer squared off, and I... you didn''t..." I shook my head, running my hand across the top of my head. "I thought you were a goner."


    "So did I," Tuera said calmly, reaching up to grab the brim of her hat and pull it down over her face. Slowly, she started to walk in my direction. "But he left without confirming the kill." She chuckled. "He always <em>was</em> sloppy. I escaped, fought my way to one of theunch bays, and stole a cargo shuttle."


    "But... what about..." I gulped again; the dryness in my mouth would not go away. "Didn''t you say you wanted to die on your feet?" Without even really thinking about it, my legs started carrying me in her direction.


    "I do," she said calmly, and a shiver went up my spine. "But I was <strong>never</strong> going to just lie down and let myself be <em>killed</em>. They all tried their best to bring me down..." She looked up, and her eyes caught in the moonlight, glinting slightly. "And they all failed."


    <em>For fuck sake! </em>I thought to myself. <em>Why the hell didn''t she tell me that </em><em><strong>before</strong></em><em>?!</em>


    "Well, t-there y''go," I stammered out. Even I couldn''t tell if I was trying to smile or if it was just a full-on grimace. "I told you we''d all make it out of there alive."


    "That you did," she let out a single, softugh. "I guess I shouldn''t have doubted you."


    "You shouldn''t have doubted <em>yourself</em>." The two of us came to a halt, about an arms length away from each other. "You... you have no idea how d I am to see you..." She smiled up at me, and my heart leapt.


    But then I got a good look at her face: she was trying to hide it with the hat, but her left cheek had a nasty, jagged scar that ran along the line of her jaw, and forked into three prongs as it approached her eye. My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to reach out and touch her, if only to prove to myself that she was really standing in front of me, and I wasn''t just imagining it...


    I didn''t budge an inch.


    "So," I gulped back the dryness, yet again, if only to try and calm myself down. "What are you going to do now?"


    Tuera was silent for a long time, looking down at her shoes to hide her face.


    "Hadn''t really thought about it," she shrugged. "I suppose I''ll just... keep doing what I''m best at." She looked up slightly, but her eyes were still hidden. "Survive."


    "You know," I coughed, desperately trying to maintainposure. "You don''t... you don''t have to go..." She curiously peeked out at me from under her hat brim. "I mean... there''s plenty of room at the 38, after all. We still need all the help we can get to take down Caesar."


    "Less than you might think," she said with a chuckle. I furrowed my brow, confused.


    "What do you mean?"


    "About a month ago, I infiltrated the Fort," she said simply, and that caught mepletely off guard. "My mission was to assassinate Caesar, to try and cut the head off the snake. But the job was already done."


    "Wh... hang on, Caesar''s <em>dead</em>?" I asked incredulously. She nodded. "Who killed him?"


    "Time," she shrugged. "I overheard some of the high ranking Legionnaires talking about what happened. Apparently, he''d been suffering from a malignant brain tumor for some time. One day he fell asleep, and just didn''t wake up."


    "Dying in his sleep..." I growled, shaking my head. "That''s too good of an end for that ve trading fuck." Tuera chuckled, nodding in agreement.


    "No argument from me," she said. I paused, the gears turning in my head as I did the math, and realized:


    "His death hasn''t changed a thing," I sighed. "Has it?" Tuera shook her head.


    "Doesn''t look that way."


    "Still, I... well..." I scratched the back of my head, unable to properly figure out what to do with my hands. "Look, the <strong>real</strong> reason I want you to stay is..." Despite my best efforts, the words were refusing to manifest. "I just... I''d love it if you decided to stick around."


    Tuera slowly shook her head and my heart sank.


    "Look, Shea... I... I''m sorry," she practically whispered. "But I''ve... Hell, I''ve seen the way you look at that Cassidy girl. And I..." She sighed heavily. "I don''t want toplicate things."


    If you pay close attention, you can actually <em>hear</em> the shattering sound of my heart.


    "I... I understand." I muttered. Every part of me felt numb, and I turned on my heel to walk away. "Guess we missed our window..."


    A hand reached out to take hold of mine, and I halted on the spot, looking back.


    "Shea... I don''t think you <em>do</em> understand." Cautiously, I stepped back, and she reached out to take my other hand. "I <strong>love</strong> you. I <strong>still </strong>love you. I always have, and I always will. But..." Her mouth worked up and down for a few seconds, but no sound emerged. "I can''t have a... a <em>life</em> with you. I haven''t aged a day since the procedure that turned me into... <em>this... </em><em><strong>thing</strong></em>. I don''t know how long I''ll live. I don''t know if I can even <em>die</em>..." She reached up and gently touched my cheek, and the two of us drew in closer. "Shea, please believe me. I would <strong>love</strong> the chance to live a normal life with you...to <em>grow old </em>with you... but I <em>physically can''t</em>. Not in this lifetime..."


    I didn''t hesitate a moment more. I reached out and grabbed the bill of her hat, tossing it aside. Her hair fell loosely around her face, and I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her in a tight embrace. I took her face in my hands, and...


    For a single moment, everything in the world was perfect.


    "Well then," I whispered to her huskily. "I guess I''ll just have to find you in the next one, won''t I?" Tueraughed softly, and she wrapped her arms around me tighter. She nted another soft kiss on my lips, pausing just long enough to nibble slightly. Her warm breath caressed my cheek, sending shivers of excitement down my spine.


    "I''ll hold you to that."


    The air was crisp and cool as I walked through the Freeside streets, but there was warmth in my chest, lifting my spirits. When I closed my eyes, I could still taste her on my lips... smell her sweet, intoxicating scent... feel the electric tingle of her fingers on my skin...


    I opened my eyes and couldn''t help but smile. The chapter of my life with Tuera may have finallye to an end... but at least this time, I got the chance to say goodbye. And that alone made it worth <em>everything</em>.


    I sighed contentedly, and resumed the stroll back to the 38.


    "To be continued..."

 Chapter 165: Hope

    Chapter 165: Hope


    <em>Helloooooo, children! It''s me, Three Dog, BOW WOW! You''re listening to Gxy News Radio, your one stop shop for all your auditory satisfaction! Coming upter in the hour is some News To Make You Feel Better About Yourself, but now it''s time for some new music! We''ve got the Rolling Stones lined up, who see a red door... and want you to "Paint It ck." Only on GNR!</em>


    "Is it bad that I''m more scared for what I have to do <em>today</em>?" I asked aloud. "I don''t remember being this scared when we went to the Moon." Cass shrugged.


    "Well, c''mon, that was violence," she said. "We''re <strong>good</strong> at violence... but this?" Cass gestured to the enormous conference room we were sitting in, all clean and shiny with chairs and nametags; everything was ready for the sudden influx of iing visitors. "This is gonna be talkin'' an'' politics an'' <em>diplomacy</em>... an'' shit. We''re kinda out''ve our element, here."


    "True, true..." I nodded my agreement, trying to mull over my emotions. "Maybe scared isn''t the right word. Nervous? Apprehensive, perhaps?" Cass leaned back in her chair and tipped her hat back.


    "Fucked if I know. But look on the bright side!" Cass reached across me to point at the gigantic table of food dominating one of the longer far walls. "<strong>That </strong>is quite the spread you''veid out. Even if the meeting is a flop, I''m sure yer gonna get points fer all that food."


    "Y''think people are going to like it?" I asked. Cass nodded with a smile.


    "Of course!" she said, pping me on the shoulder. "It''s free food. People <strong>love</strong> free food. But, I do have to ask... why a buffet?"


    I thought about my answer for a second, looking back at the enormous buffet table  which was staffed by about a dozen Lucky 38-branded protectrons, each one wearing a chef''s hat.


    "Well, if my hunch is right, this... meeting, congress, conference, whatever the fuck you wanna call it, it''s gonnast a while. People are going to get hungry. You can''t figure out shit on an empty stomach, and you definitely can''t build a nation on one, either." Cass scrunched up her face, obviously still confused.


    "Yeah, but... <em>why a buffet</em>?"


    "Tell me honestly," I said, draping an arm around her shoulder. "Can you think of <em>anything </em>more Vegas than a buffet? Because I can''t." Cass tapped her chin, apparently taking my challenge seriously. And then:


    "...uhhh... A buffet served to hookers at a ckjack table?" she offered with a shrug. The two of us started giggling, and we almost missed the tiny voice at our feet.


    "I think we''re going to need some more coffee," Muggy said.


    "No surprise there," I muttered leaning down and extending my hand; the mini securitron hopped up and rolled into my metal palm. "You love it when we drink coffee."


    "I''m serious!" he practically shouted, iling his arms for effect. "None of these people you''ve invited have ever had <em>real</em> coffee before, right?"


    "Uh... no, I don''t think so," I said. "You know, considering that Barry is the only one who can even <em>make </em>real coffee beans. At the moment, at least."


    "Exactly! And do you remember what <em>you</em> were like when you had real coffee for the first time?"


    Images of sweeping mountain vistas flooded my head, awash with color from a stunning sunset; the awe-inspiring majesty of The Infinite swirled through my minds eye, replete with vivid color from stars, supernovas, and interster dust clouds stretched across light years.


    "I... <em>seem</em> to recall that moment, yes," I nodded, doing my best to keep a straight face.


    "It''s probably a good idea if we have too much, rather than not enough, is all I''m saying..." Muggy let out a nervous, quaveringugh. He started fiddling with his tiny little w hands. Clearly, the thought of not enough coffee  and consequently, fewer mugs to clean  was making him anxious.


    "Well, we already have five pots ready t''go..." Cass shrugged. I started nodding, and Muggy''s expression sank for the briefest of moments.


    "We''re gonna need more," I said with a smile. Immediately, Muggy straightened up, andughed, hopping off my hand.


    "GREAT!" he yelled,ughing again as he rolled away and out of sight. "I''ll go fetch more mugs!" I couldn''t help but chuckle to myself. At least he was easy to cheer up.


    "Oh, hey, by the way..." I turned to Cass, draping my arm across her shoulders again. "Thanks for helping me set this up today. I really appreciate it." Cass smiled, leaning against me.


    "Ah, don''t mention it," she gave me a soft peck on the cheek. "d t''help. So... what d''we do now?"


    "Wait for everyone to arrive, I suppose." At that moment, my Pip Boy started beeping, and I reluctantly removed my arm from around Cass. "Aha! Speak of the devil. Hello, Yes Man. Have our guests started to arrive yet?"


    "Nope!" Yes Man''s voice blurted from the speaker when I opened the channel. Cass and I looked to each other curiously. "You have a package waiting for you!"


    "A... what?" I asked. Cass raised an eyebrow.


    "A package just arrived!" Yes Man replied. "A courier just dropped it off. It''s waiting for you on the front steps!" And with that, the transmission clicked off. A sinking feeling took hold in the pit of my stomach. Cass and I looked at each other curiously for a few seconds.


    In a sh, the two of us were on our feet and rushing for the front door.


    There was a veryrge box, sitting several feet away from the Lucky 38''s front doors. It was long and rectangr, almost like a coffin, but not quite big enough for that. It appeared to have been made from wood, and most of the dark green paint was either faded or ked off entirely.


    "What is it?" Cass asked from behind me. Neither of us moved from our spot to get closer just yet. I was worried that it might be a <em>bomb</em>... It was certainly big enough for <em>that</em>, if nothing else.


    "I''m not sure..." I began, blinking several times. The different vision modes in my cybeic eyes started cycling. "I''m not picking up any unusual heat signatures, and there doesn''t appear to be any electromaic signatures... so it''s... <em>probably</em> not a bomb... But there''s definitely <em>something</em> in there."


    "What about th'' note?" Cass asked, pointing around me at the box. I switched my eyes back to normal, and looked where she was pointing: a small yellow envelope was stapled to the box. It had no markings. I held out a hand to stop Cass, and slowly approached the box. Without a word, I grabbed the envelope, ripped it open and began to read the simple words scrawled on the scrap of paper:


    Six


    Good luck


    Create your symbol


    But tell your allies of the real threat


    You will need proof


    Here it is


    It wasn''t signed, but I knew immediately who had sent it. I tossed the letter aside, and grabbed the edge of the box with my cybeic hand; one by one, the nails popped out from the sudden force.


    "So... what is it?" Cass asked, approaching me from behind slowly. I finished ripping the lid off, and tossed the wood aside. When I got a good look at the contents, I couldn''t help butugh to myself. Cass, meanwhile, recoiled in horror. "Wh-what the fuck is <em>that</em>?!"


    "Ulysses, you son of a bitch..." I muttered softly, standing up. I turned to Cass and pointed in the box. "That is a dead <strong>tunneler</strong>."


    It wasn''t too long after that little distraction that people <em>actually</em> started to arrive. And thanks to Yes Man keeping an eye on the cameras, I was able to know who was arriving when, and personally meet them at the door. This had the added benefit of helping me maintain an urate headcount.


    First to arrive was Julie, driven to the meet by April behind the wheel of her pickup truck. No surprise that they were first, honestly. However, the fact that The King and several of his boys had decided to hitch a lift in the back of the truck bed? That was a surprise. It did give me a chance to ask how his arm was healing up after the Los Zorroz attack, which he seemed to appreciate.


    Shortly after, two more Follower pickup trucks arrived: one carrying Trudy from Goodsprings, and one with Cliff from Novac. I honestly had no idea how they timed their arrival so perfectly, considering they hade from opposite ends of the Mojave, but there you go. When I''d talked to them the other day, both Trudy and Cliff had wondered why I''de to <em>them</em> with this offer; I had to exin that I didn''t want theirmunities left out of this wacky scheme of mine, and the two of them were the closest things those little towns had to any sort of leadership <strong>at all</strong>.


    If I''m beingpletely honest, I''m just d the trucks got here in one piece without crashing: Julie had told me earlier that they only had the two (three, if you counted April''s truck), and they didn''t get much use since there weren''t that many Followers at the Mormon Fort who even knew <em>how</em> to drive.


    Next to arrive was Cachino, nked by a couple of Omerta wise guys. Before they got a chance to enter, I stopped their boss, and pulled him aside for a... <em>quiet </em>word. I wanted to make sure that he still remembered our agreement, especially after all the trouble I''d gone through because of Los Zorroz. All the bullets he started sweating when I held onto his shoulder lightly (but firmly) with my cybeic hand seemed to confirm that, yes, he was, in fact, still pissing terrified of me. So that was good.


    Then the Boomers arrived, and I <em>heard </em>them long before I <em>saw </em>them. This was because Mother Pearl, Loyal and Raquel were arriving (with what could only be described as an honor guard) in a convoy of big military jeeps. These weren''t like the dinky little Willys Jeep I drove when I went to pick up the sr panels; these were huge up-armored military affairs with lifted chassis and <strong>guns</strong> mounted in the roof.


    The thing that really surprised me was that they were followed by the thunderous bellow of a naturally aspirated V14 engine. And when I saw the Cobra again, all shiny and chrome with the snake coiled around the racing stripes... that made me feel all manner of fuzzy inside. Honestly, I didn''t think that Shelby was even going to ept my invitation, but I''m d he did. After all, if the Boomers were going to be represented here, then I thought it only fair that the Gearheads should be, too. And when we shook hands, he seemed very appreciative that I was still wearing his old Stetson.


    Once all the cars had been parked underneath the casino, another group of men wearing suits started walking up the Strip from the south. It was Swank, nked on either side by at least half a dozen Chairmen. Apart from when I''d given him the invite yesterday, this was the first time I''d seen him since our chat in Bazooko''s Circus a little over a month ago. It was nice to see him again  and that was honestly something I never thought I''d say about Swank.


    The biggest surprise of the day was when a very familiar looking redhead in a leather duster rocked up; by her side was a de-fanged nightstalker on a leash she appeared to be taking for a walk.


    "Well, well. Hello Jessica  er, sorry, ''Lucy.'' Nice to see you again," I said with a smile, trying to ignore the nightstalker sniffing my shoes. "So, you''re the one Westside decided to send over for this little shindig?" She nodded with a shrug.


    "Well, the Westside Militia would never admit this... but The Thorn is pretty much their only source of ie." I chuckled and nodded, finally understanding why my meeting with them had been so strange.


    "Well, I''m d that it''s you. It''s nice to see you again." I paused for a few seconds. "Do you think you can detach your pet nightstalker from my leg now?" I looked down and, sure enough, the coyote-rattlesnake hybrid''s mouth was mped down on my leg, gumming it furiously.


    "Thulsa! Bad dog! Down boy!" Jess tugged on the leash, and the nighstalker let go of me. At least now I knew why it had been de-fanged, and I was quite d about that fact.


    We talked for a bit more, catching up and (thankfully) avoiding any arguments before she went inside. And then, thest of the Three Families showed up: Marjorie, wearing an elegant dress topliment her pearls, and nked by several White Glove members in tuxedo''s and masks. I checked the time: sure enough, it was almost exactly half an hour after I''d told her that people were going to start arriving. Clearly, she wanted to make an entrance.


    There was only one group left to show up. And when Yes Man told me he''d spotted the Deuce arriving in Freeside, I''d made sure that at least four securitrons were dispatched to escort them in. Within moments, the big truck arrived and came to a stop just outside the steps. The securitrons moved into a defensive posture, surrounding the truck to block the public''s view.


    "Marcus!" Iughed, greeting him as he dropped out of the back, followed by two more super mutants. "I''m d you guys made it..." I popped my head into the Deuce, and saw that it was just the three of them. "What, no Keene? No nightkin representation?" Marcus shrugged and shook his head.


    "I offered, but he said he didn''t want to deal with... you know, the crowds," he snorted. "Probably for the best. Keene isn''t exactly the nicest person in the world."


    "Yeah, don''t I know it," I chuckled, remembering when Keene busted into Doc Henry''s office by breaking the door. "Still, you guys are thest ones to arrive. With you here, we can actually get started, and "


    "Mr. Fisher!" an unwee voice called out from the south. Son of a <strong>bitch</strong>. That was Ambassador Crocker''s voice and I just <strong>knew</strong> that he was bringing some trigger-happy MP''s along with him. That was bad news.


    "You guys better head on inside," I said, trying to keep from grimacing. "But... wait for me by the door. I''ll deal with this idiot." Uncertainly, Marcus and the two other super mutants made their way up the stairs, and I turned on my heel trying to intercept Crocker.


    "Mr. Fisher!" he yelled again, and sure enough he was surrounded by a lot more NCR soldiers than had apanied him thest time he tried this. "You and I still need to talk, and I will <strong>not </strong>take no for an " he paused, finally noticing the "SUPER MUTANTS!"


    In a sh, all the NCR troops had their guns drawn... but none of them fired because I had That Gun pointed squarely at Crocker''s face long before any of them could do anything. They all seemed to hesitate and falter, unsure of what to do.


    "Tell your men to back off, Crocker," I said calmly. He was still as a statue. "Marcus and his friends are my guests. You are <strong>not </strong>invited, and I will <strong>not </strong>be intimidated in my own house." Behind me, I could hear the securitrons moving into position, drawing their own weapons. I hoped that I was giving Marcus andpany enough time to get inside with this little Mexican standoff... but I soon realized that I needed something to break the stalemate and get them to back down.


    A loud, heavy growl from behind and above me informed me that the stalemate was just about to be broken. There was a heavy thud behind me, and all of the NCR troops seemed to simultaneously back down and shit their pants as Stripe suddenly appeared, growling and snarling at the men with guns and hostile intentions.


    "<strong>LEAVE...</strong>" Stripe bellowed, as Sasha began to spin up above Stripe''s mohawk. Two of the NCR troops in the back immediately took off running back to the NCR embassy, and the rest started backing up in terror. Crocker''s eye twitched and his bald head started to glisten from all the sweat. Cautiously, he started backing up as well... but before he ran back home with his tail between his legs, he pointed a finger at me and scowled.


    "This isn''t over, Courier!" he said, as I holstered That Gun. But I just shook my head.


    "Yes it is," I said, turning on my heel to catch up with Marcus. "You''re just too stupid to realize, yet."


    Stripe snorted loudly at the retreating NCR troops, punctuating the encounter quite nicely.


    "So, do you really think this zany scheme is going to work?" Marcus asked as we made our way to the conference room. I shrugged.


    "I hope so," I said, patting him on the side of his massive tree-trunk arm. "But we''re never gonna know unless we try, right?"


    "I suppose not..." he grunted. We reached the big double doors leading into the conference room, and I paused before opening it. I had no idea how anyone was going to react... but I just hoped that Chris and Fawkes had epted my invitation, as a means of easing people into the idea of super mutants...


    I pushed it open, and was immediately bathed in the noise andmotion of several dozen people all talking and chatting and conversing at once. Our entrance caused themotion to settle down somewhat... and then it immediately got worse. People started shouting  even though I could see Christopher and Fawkes off in the corner  and a few of the Boomers pulled out rifles.


    "HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT! EVERYONE, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!" I shouted, putting myself between the group of super mutants and everyone else. I pointed at Loyal and Pearl''s honor guard. "Put those away! You''re acting like fuckin'' savages here! Everyone, listen up!" Thankfully, everyone seemed to be listening, and the sounds dipped down to a dull murmur. "Everyone, this is Marcus! He''s here representing amunity of super mutants who only want to live in peace! I have invited him and his friends here to partake in this little experiment, they are my guests, and you will treat them with respect! If you don''t, then so help me, I will KICK your <strong>FUCKIN'' ASS</strong>! Everyone got that?"


    The sounds in the room seemed to mutter a loose collection of acknowledgements.


    "Alright, good," I nodded, lowering my hands. "Once everyone gets settled in, we''ll get started." I moved away, sighing with relief as things seemed to calm down. Cass, Boone, Arcade, Raul, Veronica and Emily were scattered all around the room, talking to various people... and Christine was the first one to reach me.


    "You certainly have a way with people..." she said, patting me on the shoulder. Iughed.


    "Well, nobody is shooting anyone yet, so that''s a good start," I said. "I''m gonna get some coffee, you want any?" Christine shook her head, and I made my way over to the big table of food.


    I tried to focus on the noises all around me as I poured myself a cup, to see if I could discern anything of interest. Most of it was just random small talk, people getting to know each other... but there was one conversation I overheard before everything began that stuck with me, if only for how darkly hrious I thought it was:


    "I have to say, I love your outfit," Veronica said to Marjorie, a few feet away from where I was standing. "The pearls, especially, really work for me. They''re gorgeous! Where did you get them?" Marjorieughed demurely, putting on a humble air.


    "Oh, why thank you," she said, smiling at Veronica sweetly and putting a gloved hand on her ne. "They''re... myte husband." Veronica cocked an eyebrow.


    "Oh, did... did he give those to you?" she asked. Marjorie smiled again.


    "In a manner of speaking, yes," she giggled softly. "These were fashioned from his ribcage. When he died, he put in his will that he wanted his bones turned into jewelry for me to wear. That way, he said, he could always be close to my heart..." she started to fan herself with a free hand and her voice started quavering. "Oh, he always <em>was</em> such a sentimental old fool!"


    Veronica didn''t say anything. She just looked at Marjorie with a look of confused horror, her mouth and eyes wide; all she ended up doing was tough nervously for several seconds before slowly backing away.


    "Thank you all foring," I said, once everyone had settled down. It had been an hour since people had started showing up, and absolutely <strong>nothing</strong> had gotten done. So, it was high time to get down to business. "Now, as I''m sure all of you are aware, the NCR and Legion are on the brink of shing at Hoover Dam. No matter what happens, the people of Vegas will be caught in the middle. That''s why I''ve brought all of you here: so we can figure out what is to be done."


    "Get on with it!" I heard a voice shout.


    "Thank you, Cass," I said with a smile. "The point is, no matter who wins at Hoover Dam, everyone in the Mojave is going to take a bath  unless we do something. From what I''ve seen in my travels sinceing to the Mojave, none of us is strong enough to stand alone against either the Legion or the NCR. But I think that if we work together, and pool our resources to create a new nation for all of the people living in the Mojave, then "


    A murmur settled over the room before I finished. Cachino, surprisingly enough, was the first one to speak up over the crowd:


    "Let me guess," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You''d wanna make yourself leader of this new nation, am I right? After all, you''ve already taken over House''s chair as the Overboss..." The room erupted in more mutterings, but I managed to silence them before they got too bad with a single word:


    "No."


    The room shut up, and I continued.


    "I don''t want anyone to get the wrong idea, so let me make myself abundantly clear: I''m not looking to rule anybody. That''s not my goal, and I''m not interested. Truth be told, I don''t know the first thing about actually <em>running</em> a nation. That''s not who I am..." I looked out across the room, and vaguely pointed back and forth to everyone. "But I see the potential in all of you. That''s why I brought everyone together for this meeting: so everyone who <em>actually lives here</em> can talk to one another and figure out what we <strong>all</strong> want for the future. I''m sure that if we work together, then we can build something for everyone we can all agree on  or, at the very least, we can reach a decentpromise. The alternative is having a dictator roll up and say ''this is the way it''s going to be, and I don''t care what you think'' which is what you''d get if the NCR or Legion took over. And I don''t wanna be that guy."


    "I thought everyone would want to be that guy," I heard Cliff say, to the sound of scattered chuckles. But I shrugged.


    "Hey, you know, at the end of the day I''m just a courier bringing you guys a message," I said, which prompted a few more chuckles from around the room. "As far as I''m concerned, it''s my job to deliver the message... but it''s up to all of you to figure out what to do with it."


    "So, if you''re not interested in runnin'' this thing... what <em>are</em> you gonna do, then?" I heard The King ask from his spot next to Julie at the far end of the room.


    "I''m sure most of you have figured this out by now, but..." Iughed, shaking my head. "All I really know how to do is fight. That''s all I''m really good at. So that''s exactly what I''m going to do: <strong>fight</strong>."


    "What do you mean, fight?" Jessica asked, with a worried expression on her face that she was doing a bad job of hiding.


    "I mean simply this: when the NCR and Legion finally butt heads at Hoover Dam, I''m going to make sure that they <strong>both</strong> lose. The Boomers and their heavy artillery are going to y a big part in that," I gestured over to Pearl and Loyal with a nod, and the two of them gave me a pair of thumbs up. "But I''ve got a few other tricks up my sleeve. I''m going to fight, and I''m going to give everyone here  not just in this room, but everyone in the Mojave  the breathing room needed to build something... better. Together, we can turn Vegas into a beacon of light in this dark, depressing wastnd of ours  a refuge from the violence in the world around us that can wee everyone and anyone who wants to live free..." I nced at the King, and gave him a subtle nod. "...so that we can <strong>all</strong> be kings in our own way."


    "Let me see if I''ve got this straight..." Swank stood up at the far end of the room and spoke up; all eyes turned to him. "We all know that more and more Legion troops from the army they used to conquer Arizona are pouring into the Mojave every day. And the NCR is just as bad, bringing in more troops and tanks from Baja. They''re closing in all around us, and you yourself just said that no matter what happens, Vegas is going to be caught in the crossfire. I mean... I hate to point this out, but you''re just one man. You seriously believe you can beat back them <strong>both</strong>?"


    "I do," I said with a nod and not a second''s hesitation. Swank stared at me in disbelief, shaking his head.


    "Man, you got guts... but that bet is a long shot. How can you believe something like that?"


    "Because I have hope," I said, simply. "I have hope in my friends. I have hope in my allies. I have hope in myself. I have hope, because I have to believe that freedom will not give way to tyranny and oppression so easily. I have hope because I sincerely believe that we can all work together, to build something better than ourselves, and that together we can be greater than the sum of our parts. I have hope," I smiled, looking out at all the faces surrounding me. "...because all of <strong>you</strong> give me hope."


    For what felt like ten years, the room was silent. I clenched my jaw, closed my eyes and prepared for the worst. And then:


    "I''ll stand with you," I heard Julie say. And that was all anyone needed. One by one, everyone voiced their agreement to this idea: The King, Swank, Cachino, Marjorie, Loyal, Pearl, Raquel, Shelby, Trudy, Cliff, Jessica, and Marcus all began to voice their agreement.


    For the first time in a long time, I truly believed that we might <em>actually </em>be able to pull off this crazy, hare-brained n of mine.


    "Fantastic!" I said, pping my hands together. "Now that the hard part is out of the way, there''s one other thing I want to tell you guys before we get to the specifics of hashing out the details of nation building and... all that shit. It''s a bit of a warning, because there is a very specific something that is <em>bound</em> to happen sooner orter. I want <strong>everyone</strong> to be as prepared as they possibly can be, as soon as they possibly can be."


    Everyone looked confused as I turned away from the table, grabbed the big box behind me, and turned back to nt it in full view of everyone.


    "Let me tell you a little something about tunnelers..."


    The meetingsted a little over six hours.


    The discussions were long, heated, and thorough. And even after six hours, it was clear that we''d only barely scratched the surface of what we would need to do to make this n work... but it was a good start, if nothing else.


    By the end of it, the buffet spread I''did out was very nearly empty, so it was clear that had been a good idea. Same with the coffee, if the dozens upon dozens of used coffee cups were any indication. At least Muggy would be happy.


    Once it was clear that we could get no more work done today, I''d offered up the revolving cocktail lounge so that we could all unwind and have some fun. And I have never seen so many people from so many distant, scattered walks of lifee together like we did for that party, and have so much fun.


    I was sitting in one of the booths on the rotating portion, with a beer in hand and my feet propped on a nearby table, just watching everyone talking andughing and drinking and joking together.


    And then suddenly, I heard a voice behind me: it was Arcade, and it sounded like he was quoting something.


    "<em>Keep ancientnds, your storied pomp!'' cries she with silent lips. ''Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift mymp beside the golden door!</em>"


    "What''s that?" I asked, as Arcade sat down next to me. I reached down into the cooler by my feet, and offered him a beer, which he took with a nod.


    "It''s from a poem," he said. "It''s called ''The New Colossus,'' and it''s engraved on the side of the Statue of Liberty..." Arcade paused, thinking about that for a second. "...or, at least, it <em>was </em>before the world ended. No idea if it''s still there, but that''s beside the point."


    "And the point?" I asked. Arcade cracked open the beer and took a drink.


    "Those words, engraved on the side of the Statue of Liberty... <em>that</em> is what America stood for, once upon a time," he said softly. "Before the Enve ruined everything, that is. It was the idea that we weren''t perfect... but we didn''t <em>have</em> to be. Hatred, bigotry, tyranny, oppression... these were the things people were trying to <em>escape from</em> when they came to America. It was the idea that it didn''t matter what part of the world you came from, or who you were; Lady Liberty would wee you with open arms, whoever you were, and we would call you family."


    "It''s a nice idea," I said with a chuckle, taking a swig of my beer. "It''s just too bad that idea died when the bombs dropped." I felt Arcade''s hand grip me by the shoulder.


    "That''s the thing, Sheason: I don''t think it <em>is </em>dead. Not anymore. What I saw today... what you''ve <em>started</em> here today... was the true spirit of Americae back from the dead. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can actually believe in the American Dream... <em>without</em> being asleep. And for the first time... I feel like I can be legitimately hopeful for the future."


    Iughed, raising my beer bottle to his; we toasted the ss bottles together with a clink.


    "Here''s to hope," I said with a smile. "An idea that not even the end of the world can kill!" Arcade chuckled, following suit.


    "I''ll drink to that!"

 Chapter 166: Dam Tourists

    Chapter 166: Dam Tourists


    <em>Wee back to Gxy News Radio! This is Three Dog with an important public service announcement! Listen here, children, I know that sometimes the wastnd may seem bleak... but promise me that you will never give up hope! Hope will keep the world alive. Hope will be your light in the darkness... or at least, the radiation. Always remember that for every asshole, ver, raider shithead out there, there are just as many people who will stand up by your side and help you fight back! So keep fighting the Good Fight, children! We''re Radio Free Wastnd, and we''ll be here... for you.</em>


    "I can''t convince you to stay, huh?" I asked, watching as Chris made his way to the Roadkill. Fawkes was leaning against his giant gatlingser, calmly smoking a cigar, and Dogmeat was leaning out of the open canopy, panting away happily. Chris turned on the spot, smiled at me and shook his head.


    "Nah... My work here is done." As he spoke, he struck a heroic pose and looked to the sky. The over-the-top, melodramatic way he started speaking next, it sounded like he was quoting something, but I couldn''t ce it:


    "I''m needed elsewhere now! Wherever ouws rule the west... wherever innocent women and children are afraid to walk the streets... wherever a man cannot live in simple dignity... and wherever a people cry out... <em>for Justice</em>!"


    There was a very long pause where neither of us said anything.


    "Bull. <strong>Shit</strong>." I stared at him, folding my arms across my chest. He dropped the melodramatic nonsense and loosened up, shrugging at me with augh.


    "Alright, you caught me. But speaking the in truth is getting pretty damn dull around here!" I buried my face in my hands, and couldn''t help butugh.


    "Seriously, though. What are you gonna do?" Chris shrugged.


    "Quite a lot! I''ve got plenty of stuff yet to do, you know? I still need to get to Mariposa to help out Harold, and I''m sure that I''ll run into a massive plethora of side quests along the way to keep me busy! Plus, you and I both know there are gonna be rogue pockets of Enve out there that need to be squashed. There was enough time before the base went boom for at least <em>some </em>of them to have escaped. I mean, <em>I </em>survived, <em>you </em>survived, your two <em>girlfriends</em> survived..."


    "Wait, what?" I hadn''t told <em>anyone </em>that Tuera was still alive! How did he know about...


    "My point is this: what you''re doing here in Vegas is really noble. It''s great and all, but... the politics, the factions, and the... <em>responsibility</em>? This really isn''t my style. I''d just get in the way if I stuck around. Besides..." He startedughing heartily. "With both myself <em>and </em>Christine here, we''d <strong>definitely</strong> be going over the One Chris Limit. And I don''t want to do that."


    "Uh... Riiiiight..." Just smile and nod, Sheason. That''s all you can do here.


    "So, I''m gonna head back out into the wastnd, and do what I do best: walk the earth, get into adventures, meet interesting people, maybe cause a few massive explosions here and there..."


    "You''re just gonna fuck around, basically," I said tly. Chrisughed and nodded.


    "Now you''re getting it!" He gave me onest smile and shook my hand heartily before turning back to get into the Roadkill. "You take care of yourself, Bro."


    "Don''t worry about me, you just watch your own ass out there," I smiled, giving him azy salute/wave. "Think we''ll ever see each other again?" Chris nodded enthusiastically, and the Roadkill hummed to life.


    "Oh, sure! I mean, you''ve got Zeta''s number, right? If you ever want to hang out, go for drinks, or just blow shit up for shits and giggles, you know where to find me! And hey, if nothing else, I''ll probably show up again in the Epilogue!" The Roadkill started slowly spinning on the spot, the humming giving way to a dull roar. "Until next time, this is your friendly neighborhood Lone Wanderer... signing off!"


    There was a sonic boom, a cloud of smoke and dust was kicked up in its wake, and the Roadkill sped off down Vegas Boulevard, away from the 38. I stood on the steps, waving as he vanished into the distance. When he was gone, I let out a heavy sigh, and started chuckling to myself as I made my way back up the stairs.


    "Fuckin'' tourists..."


    Ding.


    I stepped out of the elevator and into the suite, with the intention of finding Boone; we had some work to do today, and it was probably best to get started as soon as possible. I decided that the first room to check would be the living room; Boone had taken to ying darts a lot recently... when he wasn''t out hunting for Fiends or Legionnaires, that is.


    I didn''t find him there. Instead, I found Veronica and Christine fast asleep on the couch. Seeing the two of them just cuddling with one another was adorable, it must be said. And yet, I couldn''t help butugh quietly to myself: Christine was merrily snoring away,plete with a dopey smile on her face, as her head rested against Veronica''s rather... <em>ample </em>bosom.


    I guess Cass <em>hadn''t </em>been exaggerating, after all.


    Quietly (so as not to wake either of them) I ducked into my room, grabbed a nket, and carefully draped it over the two snoozing lovebirds. Veronica stirred, and her arms wrapped around Christine even tighter.


    "Heh heh... ah, you kids..." I chuckled softly, shaking my head and smiling to myself as I left. The sight of those two had filled me with so many warm fuzzy feelings, that I almost didn''t see Boone when I walked into the kitchen.


    "Fisher," Boone grunted at me with a nod; he was sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning his revolver.


    "Ah! There you are!" I said. "You ready to get to work?"


    "It''s that time, huh?" he asked, looking down the chambers onest time before spinning the cylinder and snapping it in ce.


    "Yep! Grab your gear. It''s time for us to ingratiate ourselves with the people running security for President Shithead."


    "Kimball," Boone corrected gruffly. I shrugged, nonplussed.


    "Whatever."


    The trip from Vegas to Hoover Dam was rather uneventful, but mostly quiet... even when I told Boone the big news I''d heard the other night. His response to the bombshell that Caesar had kicked the bucket and was now currently an ex-shithead was... silence. And that is <strong>not</strong> what I was expecting. I would''ve thought that Boone  of all people  would''ve been <em>happy</em> to hear that Caesar was currently six feet under.


    "Are you alright?" I asked. Boone grunted as he stared out the passenger window, watching the scenery roll by. It took a few more seconds for him to actually say words.


    "His death isn''t going to stop anything," he grunted. "I doubt it''ll slow them down."


    "Yeah... you''re probably right," I agreed. "Still feels good to know that he''s worm food." He grunted.


    "Yeah... onest thumbs down for that son of a bitch..." he said with a briefugh. And then, his expression fell again. "But even with him dead... We still have to worry about the one who''ll <em>rece</em> him."


    "Is this going to be one of those ''the devil you know versus the devil you don''t'' kind of situations?" I asked. Boone shrugged, shifting in his seat.


    "Sort of," he turned away from the window to look at me. "Have you ever heard the name Legate Lanius?"


    I racked my brain as we continued on down the highway to Boulder. It <em>sounded </em>familiar, but I couldn''t ce <em>where </em>I''d heard it... if I''d even heard it <em>at all</em>.


    "Not sure. Who is he?" I asked.


    "Legate Lanius. The Butcher. Back when I was in First Recon, I heard stories about ''The Monster of the East.'' And..." Boone trailed off and went back to looking out the window again. It was a solid minute before he spoke up again. "He''s the only target First Recon was never able to bring down."


    "What, was he too fast or something?" I asked, but Boone shook his head.


    "No. He just wouldn''t<em> die</em>." Boone growled. "Never seen him in person, so I don''t know for sure if it''s true. But I''ve heard the stories. A First Recon squad was sent deep into Arizona two years ago to try and kill him. They scored at least ten headshots, with two fired from anti-materiel rifles." Boone turned to look at me with clenched teeth, his jaw set firmly. "<em>Nothing</em> could bring him down."


    "So, what happened?" A sinking feeling took hold in my gut. I had a feeling I knew already, without even needing to ask, but...


    "He caught up to the squad, and tore through them like they were <strong>nothing</strong>. There was only one survivor... because <em>he let him go</em>. Lanius wanted him toe back to the NCR with a warning. When he did..." Boone cleared his throat. "He came back with stories of... of fire, blood, madness, and... and <em>crows</em>."


    "Crows?" I asked, perplexed. Boone just shook his head.


    "That was the first and <strongst</strong> time he ever let anyone go. Every other hit squad the NCR has sent, <strong>no one</strong> hase back. With Caesar dead... Lanius is gonna be the one in charge of everything. Assuming he''s not here already, that is. And when he tries to cross the dam, he won''t leave <strong>anything</strong> standing."


    "Ah, don''t worry about it," I said, shing Boone a grin. "I can take him."


    Boone just grunted, and went back to staring out the window.


    I pulled my Corvega to a stop, parking it out of sight behind a ridge. We were about 6 miles from the outskirts of Boulder, but the only way from Boulder to the Dam was funneled into a narrow canyon, with no reasonable way in or out along the way... and I finally understood how the NCR retreat 4 years ago had worked, when they drew them into the city and blew up the town: Legion didn''t have anywhere else to go but to follow.


    "So, do you really think this is going to work?" Boone asked as I grabbed thest few bits of gear from my Corvega''s trunk. I nodded, but I was beaten to the punch before I could answer.


    "Don''t worry!" Sue said in a delightful little sing-song. "No one will be as unseen as us!"


    "You go on ahead," I said, clicking the button on my belt; I shimmered into invisibility. "I''m right behind you." Boone grunted, turning on his heel with a nod.


    The two of us made the short walk to the Dam in silence. When we rounded thest ridge, I finally saw Hoover Dam  the whole reason for <em>everything </em>that had happened here in the Mojave - clearly for the first time. And calling it a ''wall'' across the Colorado wasn''t really doing it justice. It had to be the most massive pre-war structure I''d <strong>ever</strong> seen in one piece. Even a lot of the buildings in the Angel''s Boneyard (many of which where bigger, certainly) couldn''t hold a candle to just how... <em>solid</em> it still looked. If I didn''t know better, I would''ve said that the smooth concrete face of the Dam had been carved straight out of the rock itself. Hell, it was so massive, so impressive, and just so <strong>solid</strong> looking that... it was a little hard to believe that it had been built by human hands <em>at all</em>.


    Now I knew why so many people were in awe of the damn thing: it was a reminder of what the human race could do before the bombs dropped... and just how far we had fallen.


    "Em, you reading me?" I whispered, keeping my invisible form as close to Boone as I could.


    "Loud and clear!" Emily replied, safe and sound from her workstation in the 38.


    "Good. We''re just about in. I may need your help." There was a muffled snicker over the line.


    "Don''t worry about a thing Bruce, Alfred is here to help." I chuckled softly, shaking my head.


    "Get military," Boone grunted softly, gesturing vaguely in my direction. "All the troops are on high alert here."


    The closer we got to our destination  the two story building ahead of usbeled ''Visitor Center''  the NCR additions became more and more obvious. There were dozens of fortifications, in the shape of sandbag barricades, gun emcements, and who knows what else. Near the sheer cliff face to my far left, I saw a gpole sticking out of a solid ck stone base, with arge NCR g pping in the breeze; it was nked by statues of two bronze men sitting down, with disproportionallyrge wings pointing to the sky. Those statues must have been an original part of the Dam rather than a new addition, as they <em>definitely</em> didn''t look to have been built with scrap metal. NCR troopers were on patrol everywhere, acting like insects scurrying around a massive hive. A stage to the left of the Visitor Center was being constructed by a good two dozen people in maintenance jumpsuits. When I saw the massive artillery piece mounted just behind the stage, I realized <em>why </em>they were building it there.


    That was going to be quite the statement.


    Boone made a beeline for the Visitor Center entrance, and did his best to keep the door open long enough for me to slip in undetected. The inside of the building was an even bigger bustle of activity than outside, with NCR personnel  soldiers, civilians, and engineers  absolutely everywhere. They were all bathed in a soft orange glow, as the lights in the ceiling bounced off the art deco mural built into the floor.


    "I''m looking for Ranger Grant," Boone said, stopping one of the nearby troopers (who seemed to do a double take, after noticing the bright red First Recon beret). "Do you know where I can find him?" The trooper nodded quickly, pointing to therge curved counter in the center of thisrge circr room. It was obvious who he was pointing to, as only one person here was wearing that olive drab armor and the stiff campaign hat ubiquitous to NCR Rangers.


    "Hey, Graham!" Boone called out above themotion. The ranger perked up at the sound and turned to face him. He was a ck man with a square jaw, an enormous handlebar moustache, and stern expression only partially hidden by a patch over his left eye. When he saw Boone, however...


    "Boone?" he said, utterly bewildered beforeughing heartily. "Craig Boone, as I live and breathe!" The two of them shook hands and met in a sort of half-hug. "How the hell have you been, man? I haven''t seen you in, what, three years?"


    "At least," Boone grunted with a nod.


    "Shit, time flies, doesn''t it?" Grant shook his head. "Look, I''d love to stay and chat, but I''m really busy right now. We all are." Boone nodded again.


    "I know. That''s why I''m here." Grant briefly looked confused before Boone continued. "I heard the President ising to visit tomorrow. I thought I''d see if I could help. After all, I know how shorthanded we aretely." Grant shook his head and chuckled, adjusting his eyepatch.


    "You know... if it was anyone else  anyone at all ing in out of the blue saying they wanted to help, I''d tell them to go fuck themselves. But because it''s <em>you</em>..." Grant sighed and shook his head. "You''re absolutely right. We <strong>are </strong>really shorthanded. This whole visit is a really delicate matter, and I can''t afford to turn away someone I know I can trust."


    "So, what can I do to help?" Boone asked. As they talked, the two of them started walking around the building; I kept out of sight, close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough that my invisible form wouldn''t draw attention.


    "Frankly, I''m just d to have a fresh set of eyes on board," Grant said. "Do whatever you can. Security sweeps, talk to people, keep an eye out..."


    "What about possible threats? Any leads so far?" Boone asked.


    "Legion will definitely try something, I''m sure of it... but our G2 section doesn''t have anything solid, yet..."


    "G2?" I whispered softly. I heard some quick typing over my headset, before Emily responded.


    "It''s a code for military intelligence among an army General''s staff," she said, clearing that up.


    "I''d almost expect a direct attack from them," Grant continued, thankfully oblivious to my hidden form behind him. "But given the circumstances, there''s a strong possibility of something more subtle  like sabotage."


    "But you don''t have anything solid?" Boone responded, and Grant shook his head.


    "No. And it''s putting everyone on edge."


    "What kind of security have you arranged so far?" Boone asked, before quickly adding: "I don''t want to step on anyone''s toes."


    "I''ve been able to requisition a few Rangers, apart from myself. Some will keep an eye on the crowd, while others watch the perimeter..." The two of them stepped through a set of double doors, and exited onto a tform overlooking the under-construction stage and the Dam behind it. I slipped through the door quickly before it shut. "I''ve got a few sharpshooters that I''ve assigned to key locations around our garrison here, and there will be special K9 units sniffing out members of the crowd."


    "Doesn''t seem like there''s enough space for a big crowd," Boonemented. Grant nodded, leaning against a nearby concrete wall.


    "It''s true, we''re limiting the size of the crowd to a small number to reduce the number of people who have direct ess to the President... but there will be a lot of people back in California who''ll witness the speech."


    "What do you mean?" Boone asked, his confusion mirroring my own.


    "Alongside the troopers stationed here to witness the speech in person, the President has insisted several members of the media be here. Most of them will be recording the speech, and transmitting it live to various radio stations around the Republic... but there will be at least two televisionworks recording the speech as well."


    "Wait, <em>TV</em>?" Boone asked incredulously.


    "Oh yeah, you haven''t been back west in a few years, have you? I forgot. Kimball has been trying to restart some of the old TV stations from before the war. This speech is going to be the first big broadcast; he wants to have it transmitted live to the main square in Shady Sands, as well as theworks in Vault City."


    "So, the whole world is going to be watching, huh?" Boone asked. Grant chuckled, shrugging.


    "Near enough. And that means it''s all the more important that we don''t fuck this up..."


    Boone made his way around the NCR garrison, inspecting everything, and continuing to coordinate his actions with Grant. Meanwhile, I was busy sneaking around undetected, doing my best to try and glean whatever other information I could.


    "Did you know about the TV stations?" I whispered to Emily, as I ducked into an alcove inside the Visitor Center.


    "I''d heard rumors about it, but I didn''t think they''d got any of the stations up and running..." Emily said, amid a hail of clicks as her fingers danced along herputer keyboard. "Even so, if his speech is transmitted back to the NCR by radio, it''s going to reach a whole lot of people."


    "And that means if he gets killed, <em>everyone </em>will know about it immediately..." I muttered. "Great." I quietly made my way back to the main desk in the middle of the Visitor Center: I''d seen a terminal there, and if I could hack in, then it might tell me something that Grant couldn''t...


    "Are we recording?" I asked, approaching the terminal. I couldn''t dare risk dropping the therm-optic camo in full view of everyone, so I did my best to judge where my hands were based on feel and the subtle shimmer of distorted light around the edges.


    "Don''t worry, I''ve got you covered!" she said happily.


    I started typing carefully  and slowly. Even if I could see my hands to go faster, I almost didn''t want to; if I made too much noise typing away at the terminal''s keyboard, then people were definitely going to notice. So I took it slow and careful, and cracked into the terminal without anyone the wiser.


    There wasn''t much in there that I didn''t already know  or, at least, that I hadn''t already figured out. All the troopers present for the speech would have to relinquish any and all firearms before the speech, which was honestly no surprise. The only ones who were (officially) going to have weapons were the Rangers running security.


    Thisputer terminal also listed where the sharpshooters were going to be stationed. Three locations were listed: the ridge overlooking the stage, near that gpole I''d spotted earlier, the roof of the visitor center (where the President''s vertibird was going tond), and the roof of one of the four towers I''d seen along the edge of the Dam. Interestingly, Grant had written in the file that he wanted the tower to have a radio, specifically...


    Thest thing I found was an engineering report from someone called Mike Lawson. Apparently, he was the chief engineer here at the Dam, keeping the turbines running, and he was made aware of an issue with the flight controlputer. He was going to have an engineer waiting on the roof to take a look at it when the Presidentnded.


    That was the first red g.


    On the second floor, one of the engineers was acting frantic. She was a squirrely little blonde girl in huge horn-rimmed sses, asking questions to almost everyone she ran into, trying to find out what happened to her friend. She was looking for a fellow engineer, named Ben, who she hadn''t seen in several days.


    That was the second red g.


    After finding out about the missing engineer, I thought it was best to try and see if I could find him. But I didn''t  at least, not <em>directly</em>. What I found was a supply closet, secluded and out of sight of nearly everyone... and the floor was stained with dried blood. It wasn''tpletely obvious; someone had tried (and failed) to clean it up, but it was still there, partially hidden by a toolbox that had a (bloody) wrench tucked away in the bottom.


    That was the third red g.


    "So, what do you think?" I asked Boone, as the two of us stood on the ridge overlooking the stage and the Visitor Center. We were far enough away, that I felt like it was safe to be visible again.


    "It''s bad," Boone said, staring at the horizon with his arms crossed over his chest. "Grant and the other rangers are doing their best, but they''re way too shorthanded to deal with a job like this. If they had more time..." Boone trailed off and shook his head.


    "It looks bad," I agreed. "I did a bit of digging, and... yeah. We''re going to have to keep an eye on the engineers. I think one of them met a sticky end, running afoul of a Legion spy."


    "Fuck," Boone grunted. "It''s worse than I thought."


    "So, what do you think?" I asked, looking out all the NCR troopers and construction workers, still busying themselves with preparations. "Where would <em>you</em> be, if you wanted to kill the President?"


    "Right here," he said gruffly. "If I wanted to escape, at least..."


    "And if you <em>didn''t</em>?" I asked. I remembered how suicidally loyal Legion troopers tended to be... and I knew that if they <em>truly </em>wanted to kill someone, they''d still <strong>do</strong> it, regardless of their own safety.


    "That tower, closest to the stage," he said, pointing at it. "That has the best line of sight  even better than here. Or maybe thending pad."


    "I think Grant is going to have Rangers stationed there already," I said with a nod. "Still... might be good to keep a close watch, just in case."


    "I will," Boone grunted, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Get out''ve here. If Yes Man is right, you''ve still got a bit of work to do. I can keep things locked down until the President arrives tomorrow."


    "Are you sure?" I asked, uncertainly. Boone nodded.


    "Don''t worry. We''ll be fine."


    I nodded, pulling the Big Mountain Transportalponder! out of my duster.


    "I know you will. And that''s why I love ya, Boone: I can always count on you, no matter what."


    He gave me one final nod, and saluted crisply as I pulled the trigger on the Transportalponder!, disappearing in a sh of light and electricity.

 Chapter 167: Reactor Action

    Chapter 167: Reactor Action


    <em>AHWOOOO! That''s right, children! It''s me, Three Dog! BOW WOW! First things first, I gotta shout out, and give a little love to all of you out there, taking time to call in and let me know what you think of the new music: you guys rock! I think I knew, deep down, that you all would like it, but I never imagined I would get this kind of response so quickly! All of you kick ass, I''m more than happy to keep spinning these new tunes! Up next, we''ve got a little bit of Jimi Hendrix tellin'' us all that "The Wind Cries Mary." Only on GNR!</em>


    I emerged through the curtain of sparks and lightning, stepping off the teleport tform and back into the Lucky 38.


    "Hey, Yes Man!" I called, not even slowing down as I entered the main room. Immediately, the big monitor winked into life and Yes Man''s smiling face appeared.


    "Hi there!" he said. "What can I do for you today?" As he spoke, Emily appeared at the edge of the room, carrying a fresh pot of coffee and two mugs.


    "Boone said you had some work for me to do?" I asked, sliding down the banister andnding with a heavy metal thud. Emily handed me a steaming hot cup of coffee, which I took with a nod. "Thanks."


    "I do, indeed!" Yes Man said, his monitor flickering briefly. "I was actually going to wait until you came back from saving the President..." he began, but I waved him off.


    "Eh, President Dickhead can keep till morning."


    "Kimball," Emily corrected.


    "Whatever," I said with a shrug. Yes Man''s monitor flickered again.


    "Well, if you''re willing to do it right now, then that''s fine, too!" he said. "I think it''s time for us to activate one of the two locks preventing ess to the underground securitron army on standby! Specifically: the lock within the El Dorado Dry Lake Substation!"


    "Oh yeah, I think I remember you saying something ''bout that, like... a week ago..." I took a sip of coffee. Had it really only <em>been</em> about a week since I killed Vulpes? Felt like longer. "Wasn''t there something about a cold fusion reactor, too?"


    "I did indeed!" Yes Man said, as his face vanished from the big monitor. It was reced by a schematic wireframe, but he kept talking as the image assembled itself. "Although, describing the reactor as ''Cold Fusion'' doesn''t really do it justice. It''s only cold in the sense that it has the ability to generate electricity without first generating heat!"


    "Wait a minute..." Emily practically whispered next to me, transfixed by the image as it took shape on the screen. Her mouth was wide open and her sses were slipping down the bridge of her nose. "I think I''ve seen this before..."


    "You have?" I asked, calmly sipping on my coffee. She started slowly nodding.


    "About a month ago, when April, Arcade and I were going through some of House''s files..." she said absentmindedly. I vaguely recalled the three of them arguing about something like that when I came back. And then it hit me:


    "Wait, is this the thing that you needed the padium for?" I asked, and she nodded much quicker.


    "Yes Man, are you saying that this reactor exists?" she asked him, as the schematic on the screen winked away to be reced by Yes Man''s huge smiling face. "It''s not just drawings on a blueprint?"


    "It does indeed exist!" he replied happily.


    "Can... can we see it?" she asked.


    "No!"


    It took me several seconds to register what he''d just said, as it was the same tone of voice he always used.


    "Wait, <em>what</em>?" I asked incredulously. "Why not?"


    "Because she didn''t say the magic word!" I could almost swear that I heard the slightest hint of augh in his voice. Emily, on the other hand, just sighed heavily and started rubbing her temple.


    "Right. Yes, I know, I fixed your programming so you''re no longer <em>physically obligated </em>toply with abandon to every order given to you... but can we <em>please </em>see the reactor?"


    Ding.


    "The elevator is waiting!" he said, before the big monitor switched off. I turned to Emily, took another sip of coffee, and motioned to the elevator.


    "Shall we?" Sheughed, and the two of us headed up the stairs to the elevator. "So, you fixed Yes Man''s programming, huh? You didn''t tell me about that."


    "Yes, I did..." she said, although I could hear the uncertainty in her voice. And that was onlypounded when she followed it up with: "At least... I <em>think </em>I did..."


    Ding.


    "How do you still have those rocket boots?" Emily asked as the two of us exited the elevator, into a cavernous basement made of concrete. "Didn''t you say they were blown up when you went to the Moon?"


    "Oh, the original ones got broken, sure..." I shrugged, finishing off thest little bit of my coffee. "But Jeeves'' scanned the boots when I recovered them from Y-15 the first time, so he had them on file in that holographic replicator of his." I chuckled. "No big deal."


    Before we could continue, there was a heavy clunk over our heads, and the lights in the ceiling came on, one by one. Ahead of us was arge curved structure  easily two stories high and perhaps forty feet wide. Metal panels on the structure opened up, revealing curved ss walls, and faintly glowing arcs of electricity moving in waves along the interior edges. The lightning was concentrated most heavily around dozens of metal rings, each ced about a foot apart from one another.


    "Wee to the reactor!" Yes Man''s voice boomed from a speaker somewhere above us, and echoed throughout the cavernous chamber. Immediately, Emily rushed up to it, spouting off all this science jargon that I <em>might </em>have been able to understand if she''d managed to take a pause for breath. Something about electromaic coils arranged in a torus or something...


    "It looks like a big ss donut," I said, finally. Emily paused in her ranting to shoot me a look of UTTER disdain, but I ignored it. "So, how is this gonna work, anyway?"


    "Mr. House found a way to utilize the beta decay of a specific padium isotope, and turn it into a power source!" Yes Man said; Emily looked up at the ceiling in confusion.


    "Wait, are you talking about when padium-107 decays into silver?" she asked, and Yes Man (in his ever cheerful tone) replied in the affirmative. "But... but that doesn''t make sense, though! There''s no electrical current when the electron is released, because it bnces out the proton count between the two resulting atoms!" I was about to interject, but Yes Man cut me off.


    "Ah, but you''re not taking into ount the imbnce of protons and electrons in the center of the reactor, thanks to the influx of gamma radiation!" Suddenly, recognition dawned on Emily''s face.


    "Wait, so then that means... does the electron-photon counterflow create a deficit of electrons in the core? And the ejection of electrons from the core to the rim produces an "


    "GUYS!" I shouted, raising my arms trying to get them to stop. "You know what, forget it. I was hoping you guys could dumb this down to my level, but I forgot you''re scared of heights." Emilyughed, remembering that joke she''d made when she tried to exin muons. "What I really want to know: why do we need the El Dorado Substation to send it a burst of power?"


    "What do you mean?" Emily looked confused.


    "Well, look at this thing," I said, gesturing to the electricity arcing between the metal coils inside the rounded ss tube... donut... torus thing. "There''s electricity inside, it''s all glowy and shit... It looks like it''s running already."


    "It <em>is</em> running!" Yes Man replied. "But not at full capacity! House never got the chance to turn it onpletely before the world ended! Not to mention, two centuries of little to no maintenance has caused the reactor''s output to decay into 3.8% of its optimal capacity. At its current power level, it''s enough to provide power to the casino, theputerwork of House''s systems, and the teleporter  but not themand and control tower allowing tactical control of the securitron army. Fun fact: if House''s life support system was still active, the teleport pad wouldn''t work! Both devices have roughly the same power draw! Isn''t that neat?"


    "So... if we get this thing running at 100%..." I began, finally starting to understand what was required.


    "At full capacity, this reactor will provide enough power for the entire Strip, all of Freeside, and several othermunities in the surrounding area! In essence: the reactor would be a self-sustaining energy source, allowing Vegas to bepletely energy independent! We wouldn''t need any of the power generated by the Hoover Dam turbines at all!"


    Emily and I both started to smile at each other, with broad, toothy grins.


    "Well, what are we waiting for?" Iughed, pping my hands and rubbing them together. "Let''s get to it!"


    At first, I wasn''t quite sure where I was going to find that substation. My first thought was that I needed to head back to the ridge just outside Hoover Dam to grab my Corvega, but Yes Man said that I didn''t need it. He said that I had been there before, and I could use the coordinates from my Pip Boy to teleport there...


    But that didn''t make sense. I <em>hadn''t</em> been there before... had I? Despite my misgivings, I plugged the coordinates into the teleporter and hoped for the best. It wasn''t until the dust settled (and the lightning and sparks swirling around me finally died down) that I understood where I was and why I had been sent here.


    "Well, fuck me sideways..." Iughed.


    I was standing on a <em>very</em> familiar hill, just outside Henderson. It was the <em>exact spot</em> where I''d parked my car several weeks ago, when I came here to drink and be alone after my fight with Veronica. You know, right before I got shanghaied by that crashed Big Empty satellite. And then I remembered the <em>other </em>thing that happened that night.


    Images began to flood my memory: Legion troops assaulting a small outpost, NCR soldiers doing their best to defend it... and then, an Enve assassin arriving from nowhere, ughtering them all to a man.


    <em>Tuera</em>...


    For the first time since I knew she was alive, I was d she''d decided to leave.


    It was a very good thing that this hill was about a half a mile away from the substation. It meant that the lights and noise from the teleporter were less likely to be noticed by the NCR troops who had turned it into a garrison. I ended up going back and forth between that spot and the Lucky 38 several times; I wanted to make sure I had all the gear I would need.


    For instance: the very first thing I went back for was a pair of binocrs. One of the things my cybeic eyes <em>couldn''t</em> do was zoom in. And if I was going to properly scout out the location before sneaking in, I needed to get a good look from afar. Preferably, <em>several</em> good looks.


    Now, I know what you''re thinking: why would I even bother with scouting out the location first? I mean, my usual M.O. for this kind of situation would be to charge in headfirst, guns zing. But there were a few reasons I didn''t want to do that.


    First: I discovered pretty quickly that, despite the attacks a few weeks ago, it was still an NCR outpost. It was crawling with soldiers on patrol and I didn''t want to kill any NCR troops if I could help it. "Punch the head, don''t kick the feet," and all that.


    Second: I don''t know how much the NCR knows about my ns for Vegas, but I have to assume that they know at least <em>some</em> by now. Tipping my hand needlessly before Hoover Dam goes down is probably not a good idea, so I need to y this as quiet as I possibly can. I mean, I don''t really credit the NCR with an overabundance of brains, but give them enough pieces and they''re bound to put <strong>something </strong>together.


    So that means I had to go in all sneaky-like.


    By the time I started to make my way down the cliff, it was already dusk. Not quite pitch ck yet... but enough darkness for me.


    "Think this will work?" Sue whispered in my ear as I cautiously made my way over to the outpost.


    "Of course it will," I whispered back. "You''re the one always going on about how no one is more unseen than us, right?" I skirted along the edges of the fence as we talked. There hadn''t been a fence thest time I was here, but I can only assume they must have installed it after... well. You know.


    "I was talking about getting in and out without <em>killing</em> anyone," Sue replied. "Your track record with that isn''t exactly ster." I checked to make sure no one was around; nothing back here except row after row of electrical transformers. I disabled the therm-optic camo with a click, and pulled out a pair of wire cutters to get through the fence.


    "Aw c''mon, you too?" I sighed, slipping through the new hole and vanishing with a rainbow click. "It''s bad enough I have to take that from everyone else..."


    "It''s true, though," Emily''s voice buzzed in my ear. "Your usual method of problem solving involves lots of gunfights and massive explosions."


    "I''m not talking to you guys anymore," I muttered. "I''ve got work to do."


    If my earlier count was correct, there had to be at least a toon of infantry stationed here. There couldn''t be many more than that; soldiers needed ces to sleep, and I only saw a grand total of four tents. The only <em>solid</em> structures were the one squat building wired to all the transformers (the ce I needed to be), and the two concrete pillboxes with mounted guns at the south end creating a killzone for anyone trying toe at it head on (the ce I definitely <strong>didn''t</strong> need to be).


    So far, the various patrols hadn''t spotted me. But that wasn''t really a surprise. I mean, I''d been sneaking around Hoover Dam with the therm-optic camo earlier, passing between people quite easily in broad daylight and nobody had spotted me <em>there</em>.


    However, there was a problem. I''d been cautiously making my way around the outer edges of the big concrete building that I needed to get inside... but I couldn''t find any entrance. Except <strong>one</strong>. And, just my luck, there were not <em>one </em>but <em>two </em>NCR troopers sitting on either side of the door in a pair of folding chairs, with their rifles resting against the wall.


    "You hear the President isin'' tomorrow?" one of them asked the other.


    "Yup," the other one replied with a nod, digging in to... was that an MRE? It was definitely something at least <em>pretending</em> to be food.


    "Yeah, I tried to get leave to go see it. But LT wouldn''t give the go-ahead, y''know?" the first one said, leaning against the concrete wall. "Said I hadn''t filled out the paperwork in time."


    "Mmhmm..." the second one muttered, still chowing down.


    "Apparently, Kimball''sing to give Watson some kind of medal..." the first one said. "You remember Jeremy, out of F Division? Stationed at Forlorn Hope since forever?" The second guy nodded, taking a drink from his canteen.


    "Oh yeah, I know Jeremy," he grunted.


    A very long silence followed.


    "You''re really terrible at this," the first one said, breaking the silence. "I''m just trying to make conversation, you know?" The second guy growled angrily, pointing at his food.


    "Yeah, and I''m trying to <em>eat my dinner</em>, man!" he grumbled. "Would you give it a rest?"


    I moved away. They clearly were not going to move, but I still needed to find a way in. And it''s not like I could take them out with the chloroform I''d prepared, because I''d only be able to take out one at a time. Not only that, but with their backs against the wall like they were, there was physically no way I could get behind them.


    "Hey, Em?" I whispered, skirting the edge of the wall to get back to the transformers. "I think I saw a skylight on the roof earlier. Can you double check my helmet cam footage?"


    "Sure thing, boss," she said, before the sounds of typing clicked in my ear. I didn''t wait for her to finish. I was already at one of the transformers near the south, trying to judge the distance from the big metal box to the squat concrete building. "Uh... yes. Yes, there definitely looks to be a way in from the roof. But I don''t... it doesn''t look like there''s any way <em>up</em> to the roof."


    Fuck. That''s <strong>way</strong> too far for me to jump on my own. I checked to make sure I was out of sight, and turned off the camo again  because I needed to get my grapnel gun. I needed to weigh my options here. I couldn''t use the rocket boots to get to the roof, because those would attract too much of the wrong kind of attention. And I couldn''t <em>fire </em>the grapnel at the roof, because it made a very distinctive sound and, again, would attract too much attention.


    Cautiously, I flipped one of the switches on the side of the grapnel, and the dart dislodged itself from the mountings. I pulled out the cord as cautiously and quietly as possible, constantly checking as I worked to make sure no one noticed me. Once I felt I had enough ck in the cord, I faced the wall and started spinning the dart as fast as I could.


    "What are you doing?" Sue asked. I didn''t respond at first. I just threw the dart as hard as I could, straight up into the air, and watched as it fell out of sight  hopefully, on the roof. I aimed the grapnel at the edge of the roof, and thumbed the button to retract the cable; within seconds, the cable snapped taught, the dart caught the edge of the roof, and I started to ascend!


    Result.


    I let out a sigh of relief. So far, no one had noticed me, and there were <em>definitely </em>not going to be any troopers, since there didn''t seem to be any way up here. I mean, not unless the NCR had decided to have the roofs of all of their buildings guarded by big scary dogs airdropped into the location by parachute... But that would be <em>ridiculous</em>.


    Almost as ridiculous as riding in an alien spaceship to go fight Space Nazis on the Moon.


    "... Sheason, what are you doing?" Sue asked. "Why are you looking at the sky?"


    "Just paranoid, I guess..." Iughed to myself, shaking my head as I moved to the skylight. I opened it up and carefully dropped down to


    "Freeze!" a female voice barked, punctuated by the unmistakable metal ck of an AR-15''s charging rifle being pulled, drowning out the sound of my boots hitting the ground. I didn''t move at first  mostly because I was so surprised. And then I remembered: I <em>turned off</em> the camo before climbing onto the roof. Very slowly and cautiously, I raised both my hands in the air and stood up straight.


    "Who are you? You a ranger?" the female voice called out from somewhere behind me. "No, that''s not Ranger armor... Who <em>are</em> you?"


    I tried to weigh my options. It''s possible that my armor would be able to take the shot if she got trigger-happy and decided to fire, but on the other hand... Sue was definitely <em>not</em> the Gun Runner armor. Plus, if she fired, then everyone else outside would hear the sound. I could try dropping a smoke grenade, but that would only obscure her sight, not disable her. A shbang might do the trick, but that has the same problem as the rifle: too much noise. She has the drop on me, which meant that the chloroform I''d prepared was continuing to be useless. That copy of the "Compliance Regtor" I''d borrowed (and replicated) from Chris was inside my duster, but I wouldn''t be able to draw it without her shooting me first.


    "Who do <em>you</em> think I am?" I growled out, still keeping my hands in the air and slowly looking over my shoulder. The blonde girl in the NCR uniform with the rifle trained on me couldn''t be more than 25. Maybe younger, I dunno. Despite that, she didn''t seem scared.


    The rifle in her hands wasn''t shaking, at least.


    "You''re that Courier everyone has been talking about..." she said, after a very long pause. She didn''t lower the rifle yet. "Aren''t you?"


    "Got it in one," I chuckled.


    "Are you going to kill me?" she asked; her voice cracked slightly near the end. I turned on my heel, swiveling in ce very slowly, and faced her with my hands still in the air. She kept her rifle trained on me, but didn''t fire just yet.


    "Not unless I <em>have</em> to," I said, staring at her from behind the blue lenses of my helmet. "I don''t <em>want </em>to... but I will if you force me." She adjusted the grip on her rifle, and her jaw clenched.


    "I''ve been assigned to guard this location," she said. "And every trooper in the Mojave knows about the Courier. That he... <em>you''re </em>not to be trusted. Things <strong>explode </strong>around you. You''re just the kind of danger I''m supposed to guard <strong>against</strong>."


    "Yeah, well... what I''m doing here isn''t going to affect the NCR in the slightest," I said, finally lowering my hands. She still didn''t shoot. "If you''ve heard of me, then you know I''m no fan of the Legion. I''ve just got to do something here, real quick, that will help me kick those ve-trading fucks in the <strong>balls</strong>. And then I''ll be on my way again. It''s just an unhappy coincidence that you guys have set up shop here..."


    She stared at me down the sights of her rifle for several seconds. I stood my ground, just waiting for the shot, hoping that if she <em>did </em>decide to fire, I''d be fast enough with VATS to block it with my cybeic arm or the Pip Boy casing...


    She slowly lowered the rifle.


    "Just... Just do what you need to do and get the fuck out," she said, aiming her rifle at the ground but keeping a <strong>very</strong> firm grip on it.


    I nodded at her, silently letting out the breath I''d been holding, and moved to one of the nearby terminals. Yes Man was currently in my ear, giving me a walkthrough of what I needed to do. So while I got to work, I decided to try and ease the tension in the room. Somewhat.


    "What''s your name, kid?" I asked, looking at her over my shoulder as I pressed the needed buttons and flipped the various toggles.


    "Mags..." she muttered, clearly a bit unsure where this was going. To be honest, I didn''t know my own self.


    "You from up north?" I asked, continuing to follow the instructions in my ear. "I think I recognize that ent." She nodded slowly.


    "Uh, yeah... I''m from Reno," she said with a cough. "Joined up ''cause I wanted to be a Ranger. And... uh..."


    "Didn''t quite make the cut, huh?" I finished for her. She started nodding slowly.


    "Yeah, they washed me out. That''s why I don''t want to pick a fight with the Courier..." she let out a single, defeatedugh. "I know I''d <em>lose</em>."


    "Hmmm..." I grumbled, finishing up my work at the terminal. I pulled out the tinum Chip, keeping it out of sight, and rolling it across the top of my fingers before plugging it into the console.


    "You know, despite what you may have heard about me..." I said, doing my best to distract her from the sounds of the console doing what it needed to do. "I''m not a bad guy. I''m not trying to fight the NCR, but I <em>am </em>trying to bring down Caesar''s Legion. And this is gonna help with that." I pulled the tinum Chip back out and surreptitiously put it back in its hiding spot.


    "All I''ve heard is that the Courier causes chaos wherever he goes," Mags started lifting the rifle again... but not quite <em>at </em>me. I reached into my duster to pull out the Big Mountain Transportalponder! and kept it hidden from sight as I stepped away from the console.


    "Well, I suppose that''s true enough..." I nodded at her, slowly walking towards her, positioning myself directly under the skylight. I was going to need that clear line of sight to open sky in a second. "But think about this: if I wanted to get in here, and I <em>truly</em> didn''t care about the coteral damage... we wouldn''t be having this conversation right now."


    She stared at me in confusion, apparently taking my advice to heart and <em>actually </em>thinking about that, as she lowered her rifle again. I gave her a halfhearted salute with my free hand.


    "Take care of yourself, Mags," I said, pulling the trigger on the Transportalponder! "You''re a good kid."


    The world disappeared in a sh.


    A few minutester, a burst of lightning ripped open the universe, and I appeared on a hill somewhere very far away from the substation. The lights of Vegas were shining off in the distance, and a securitron with Yes Man''s face was waiting for me.


    "Hi there!" he said with a wave. "Follow me!" He turned on his single wheel, and started rolling away.


    "So, where''d this securitrone from?" I asked, keeping pace with the robot. "You send him all the way down here from Vegas?"


    "Of course not!" Yes Manughed. "This is one of the old Victor units! They''ve been on standby ever since his AI was scrubbed from the system!"


    "Is that right?" I muttered. It didn''t take us long to get to our destination: a ridge with Vegas in clear view off in the distance.


    "See that?" Yes Man pointed at the scene with one of his w arms. "Vegas, right? Same as always  but not tonight!" He started counting down, and I folded my arms across my chest in anticipation. When he got to the "One!" suddenly every single light in Vegas flickered and became dim. That... didn''t seem right.


    "Yes Man? Was that supposed to happen?" I asked. Yes Man didn''t answer. He just kept pointing  and with good reason, as it turns out. Suddenly, all the lights in Vegas turned back on again, much brighter than they had been before. Several spotlights around the edges of the Lucky 38 turned on and shined brightly into the sky, further exaggerating the monolithic nature of the spire sticking out of the cityscape. Even Freeside seemed to be getting in on the action, glowing brighter than I''d ever seen before.


    "Did it work?" I heard Emily''s voice buzzing in my ear. "How does it look?" I nodded slowly, surveying the impressive sight off in the distance with a smug, satisfied smile.


    "Like Christmas, but with more... me."

 Chapter 168: In the Line of Fire

    Chapter 168: In the Line of Fire


    <em>Good morning, chiiiiiiiiiildren! Time to wake up with Gxy News Radio! We''ve got a great show for you today, jam packed with all the music and news your hearts can handle! Right now, though, I''ve got something I know none of you have ever heard before. It''s something called "Land of Confusion,"ing to us straight from those masters of confusing us with song lyrics themselves: Genesis! Only on G! N! R!</em>


    "Good morning, sir," a digital voice cut through the foggy haze of sleep. My eyes snapped open, but it took several seconds for the rest of my body to follow.


    "N-huh? Wha?" Cass muttered blearily from somewhere to my side. I felt her hand clumsily paw at the sound, smacking me several times across the chest. "Fuggoff... f''ve m''re minuh..." Her words trailed off, she grabbed hold of me, pulled me close, and proceeded to snore into my neck.


    "G''mornin'' Jeeves," I eventually managed to grunt out with a cough. "What''s goin'' on, man?" I tried to lift my Pip Boy, but I was still pretty sluggish. Not all that surprising, really. Last night wore me the fuck out.


    And believe me, I chose those words <strong>very </strong>carefully.


    "I am very sorry to disturb sir, but as I recall, sir said that sir wished to be informed of any new information pertinent to the impending visit of the NCR President Aaron Kimball."


    "Oh, right..." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and trying to pick myself up. Cass was also stirring, apparently having gotten the message from all the noise that sleep was no longer in the cards. "What''s the good word?"


    "Yes Man and I have intercepted and decrypted several transmissions regarding the President''s forting itinerary. Based on this information, I and m''colleage have deduced that Bear Force One will arrive at Hoover Dam around... roughly... noon-ish. Give or take." There were several odd things from that whole sequence of words that I was having immense difficulty parsing. But what was the oddest thing, rushing to the forefront of my thoughts?


    "... <em>Bear</em> Force One?" I asked. "<em>Seriously</em>?"


    "Apologies, sir. I am only reporting what was discovered in the course of my intelligence gathering, and passing it on to sir, as sir requested. Do not shoot the proverbial messenger," Jeeves replied. There was a long pause. "For what it is worth, even <em>I </em>find it dreadfully uncreative." And with that, my Pip Boy''s radio turned off with a beep.


    "Sounds like ye''ve gotta busy day ''head''ve ya..." Cass muttered with a weary smile, drumming her fingers against my chest, casual as you like. I nodded, trying to blink away my tiredness. The neurons in my brain were still not quite firing all at once just yet, but it felt like... something was missing. I looked around to get my bearings...


    A mostly-transparent, glowing, purple, andpletely naked girl was sitting cross legged at the end of the bed. Her purple face was staring at me with wide, unblinking, purple eyes. As soon as it was clear I''d noticed her, she gave me a tiny wave.


    "Good morning, my little teddy bears," D cooed. "I trust you both had a pleasant rest." Cass grunted something incoherent, and slowly nodded. I, on the other hand, was now <strongpletely</strong> awake.


    "Have... have you been watching us all night?" I asked.


    "Of course!" she said with a smile edging right on the border of creepy. "I do not need sleep, but I find the biological process fascinating." D leaned forward, and started slowly running her hands on our legs; one hand on Cass'' leg, and one on mine. Cass shivered and moaned at the electric tingle of a holographic hand running along her thigh, and I''m not too proud to admit that I made some noises of the involuntary variety myself. "I... I collected an abundance of... data. Last night."


    "Yeah... was a helluva party, wasn'' it?" Cass chuckled, lightly grabbing the D hologram by the shoulder and bringing her in closer. "Was it good fer you?" D just started giggling like a schoolgirl. And just like that, I found myself with a girl on each arm.


    "So... y''know, I was thinkin''..." I began. But then my train of thought was rather violently derailed as D started kissing my neck.


    "Were ya now?" Cass whispered huskily, nibbling on my ear.


    "Y-yeah..." I managed to squeak out. "I''s... thinkin''... President''s not gonna get in for a couple hours, right? So... I, uh... I don''t have to leave... y''know, <em>just </em>yet." Cass looked up at me with a predatory smile and chuckled.


    "<em>Oh</em>?" Cass said in a mock-surprised tone. "Pray tell, what''d y''have in mind?" The two of us startedughing, and we looked over at D; I could swear I saw those holographic cheeks flush.


    "Oh y''know. This, that, an'' the other..." I chuckled. "Yeah, President Fuckface can keep for a few more hours." Cass leaned over me to show D some attention, and immediately the holographic girl went cross eyed and giggly.


    "K-kimball..." D moaned out.


    "Whatever."


    The world shifted into focus, and when the dust cleared I saw that the teleporter had deposited me several feet away from my Corvega. It was still parked right where I left it. Iughed to myself, tracing a finger along the hood as I passed.


    "Hey there, gorgeous. Y''miss me?" I patted the hood gently. "Don''t you worry, I''m not gonna forget you. The teleport makes things easy right now, but I''m <em>always</em> gonna need some wheels..."


    I paused, looking back at my Corvega, and I stood there for a few seconds, confused as realization at what I''d just been doing dawned.


    "Right, I''m talking to my car now," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "Definitely been hanging around The Sink too much..."


    "We could always have the Think Tank design a personality construct for your car," Sue chimed in happily. "You know. If it''ll make it feel less weird."


    "Pretty sure that''d be worse," I shook my head and kept going. "Now, where the fuck is Boone?"


    It didn''t take long to find him. He''d set up camp on that same ridge I''d leftst night; I couldn''t see an actual campsite, but I knew Boone was around, because there was a dead Legion soldier propped up against a nearby rock with a bowie knife sticking out of his head.


    "Busy night?" I asked aloud; Boone grunted in the affirmative, and seemed to appear from nowhere. He was still wearing his Desert Ranger armor and had the Gobi Campaign rifle slung across his chest.


    "For us both, it seems," he grunted. "You stink like sex."


    "D- wh- I  uh..." I spluttered out some flustered gibberish before weakly collecting myself. "Hey, c''mon man, I  I took a shower!" Boone''s expression behind his sunsses did not change.


    "<em>Without </em>Cass?" he asked. I didn''t answer, but I could tell from his slowly shaking head that he could read my expression in as day. "Eh, you should be fine. Most people don''t even wash anyway. They won''t smell anything beyond the usual funk."


    "Moving on swiftly," I coughed out, trying to regain some measure of lost dignity. "What''s up with the corpse?"


    "He tried to set up a sniper nest here, around one this morning," Boone growled out, moving to the top of the ridge and lying down on top of a nket. "Never even saw meing." While he worked, I could see now why he liked this spot. Apart from the clear line of sight to the entire venue outside the Visitors Center below, the fact that he couldy down <em>behind</em> the ridge meant he''d have concealment rendering him practically invisible to anyone who might look up, and the firing tform was  quite literally  rock solid. A sniper could hardly ask for a better spot.


    "How many assassins are here, you figure?" I asked. Boone shrugged from his spot while he adjusted the scope.


    "Enough," he grunted. "One less, now." He cocked his head to the side, angling an ear towards the sky. "You''d better get ready. He''s on his way."


    "You sure?" I asked. A secondter, I got my answer: the very faintest whisper of vertibird des far, far in the distance, but getting closer. Just on reflex, I started to reach for my guns, because it made me think of the Enve vertibirds on the Moon. Instead, I pulled my helmet off my belt, secured it in ce on my head, and I vanished with a shimmering rainbow miasma. "I''ll keep in contact." Boone gave me a subtle thumbs-up as I left; his hand barely moved from the sniper rifle.


    "You know, you could''ve stuck up for me, earlier..." I muttered softly as I quietly made my way over to the Visitor''s Center... after I made sure to mute my headset mic first.


    "And do what, deny the truth?" Sue asked with an edge of indignation to her digital voice. "It''s not <em>my</em> fault you two are so horny."


    "Chalk it up to stress relief," I grumbled. For a moment, I paused. "It... I dunno. It feels like we''re nearing an end to things. The big final showdown is bearing down on us. No matter what happens or who wins when Legion makes their move, <strong>nothing</strong> is going to be the same. And I... I just... I don''t want to leave anything... unsaid. Y''know?" As the words came out of my mouth, it was like I''d been dumped in ice water; as if I hadn''t even thought of it like that myself until saying it out loud.


    "Or <em>undone</em>," Sue said without a moments hesitation, puncturing my mncholy like a needle popping a balloon.


    "I should never have taught you sarcasm."


    The President sure knew how to make an entrance. I''ll give him that much, if nothing else.


    The entire venue had been decked out in red, white, and gold banners, and NCR gs were flying from every stick pretending to be a gpole. Even though the crowd was small, it was impressively packed with soldiers in NCR fatigues and engineers in jumpsuits stered with the bear logo. Tworge cameras were mounted near the back of the crowd, on raised, swiveling tforms, and at least three men that I could see with shoulder mounted cameras were moving through the crowd; I can only assume they were trying to make everything look bigger on TV than it was in real life.


    And there were NCR Rangers absolutely <em>everywhere</em>.


    By the time I reached the edges of the Visitors Center, the vertibird was no longer a distant speck on the horizon; the pilot seemed to be taking his sweet time getting here, though, and for a few seconds I couldn''t figure out why. But then, the aircraft started doing a slow circle of Hoover Dam, high above our heads, while the sounds of trumpets and drums sted through every speaker. It was a recording of "Hail to the Chief" that started ying, because <em>of course</em> the NCR had appropriated the old world Presidential anthem.


    What''s that old phrase? Sound and fury, signifying nothing? Yeah, I think that pretty much sums it up.


    The crowd erupted in cheers as ''Bear Force One'' came in for its final approach, making it even easier for me to sneak up to thending tform on the roof of the Visitor''s Center. I climbed up the side, finding enough handholds for me to get up top almost the same time the vertibirdnded.


    The side doors on the aircraft slid open, and a pair of Rangers wearing ck Armor leaped out, guns at the ready. I didn''t see the President at first  because he''d gotten out from the other side, and was quickly rushed into the stairwell. A pair of engineers in jumpsuits approached the aircraft and the Rangers  convinced that there was no immediate danger  fell in behind the rest of the President''s entourage to cover the rear.


    I wasn''t convinced. And I was vindicated of that suspicion mere secondster when one of the engineers took the other to the back of the aircraft and <em>shanked him right through the neck</em>.


    The pilot didn''t seem to notice; he seemed focused on keeping the engines idling  presumably, for a quick getaway. Then again, the murder <em>was </em>in the aircraft''s blindspot, right beneath the tail boom, behind the fusge and out of the way of the spinning tail rotor. So it''s possible he didn''t <em>actually</em> see it.


    I had plenty of time to think about all that, thanks to the damn helicopter des buffeting me with heavy winds, sting me in the face and trying to knock me down. I was so hampered by the artificial windstorm that I couldn''t get to the assassin fast enough; by the time I got in striking distance, he''d already reached into his satchel and attached a small metal box to the side of the aircraft. Quietly, I grabbed the shank out of the dead engineer''s neck. I tapped the assassin on the shoulder and decloaked. When he turned around, he looked surprised.


    "You''re working too hard."


    He continued looking surprised when I stabbed him through the eye. He fell to the wayside with a wet thud. I couldn''t dwell, because I had work to do.


    "Emily!" I said, tapping the side of my helmet. "C''mon, please tell me you''re there, Em, I need your help right now!" There was a short burst of static.


    "Yes! Hello, sorry. What''s "


    "Look at my video feed," I practically barked; if this was what I thought it was, I had no time to bullshit. "What am I looking at?" I knew <em>exactly</em> what I was looking at. I''d seen enough explosives to know that this was definitely a bomb. But I <strong>desperately</strong> hoped that I was wrong.


    "One second..." I heard the sounds of furious typing that suddenly came to a dead stop. "... That''s a bomb."


    "Good, I''m d we''ve established that," I said, not really feeling d at all. "How do I get rid of it?"


    "Don''t pull it off!" Emily shouted. "If that''s the bomb design I <em>think </em>it is, then it has a trigger attached to those mas keeping it in ce. You''ll have to disarm it before you can even attempt to move it."


    "Fan-fucking-tastic," I grumbled. "Okay, so how the fuck do I disarm this thing? I''m guessing it has something to do with these wires and the keypad."


    "Uh..." There was a brief shuffling of papers over my headset. "Those wires in front of you: what colors are they?"


    "Can''t you tell?" I asked.


    "The picture is in ck and white!" she said with a slight touch of hysteria. "Now please! Keep talking, and nobody explodes!"


    "Alright, alright," I said. "There are four wires that I can see: a red one, a blue one, another blue one, and a yellow one." As I said each color, I pointed to the wire I was talking about. I had no idea if the order was important, but I figured that as much information as possible couldn''t hurt. There was more shuffling of papers, some indistinct mumbling, and a brief burst of keyboard typing before she responded.


    "Okay..." she took a deep breath. "Cut the second wire from the top."


    "Are you sure?" I asked, pulling out my wire cutters. They were a bit more heavy duty than this job required, being mostly used for cutting through chain link fences, but they would have to do.


    "Yes. Four wires, only one red, thest is yellow, and there are two blue: it''s the <em>second</em> wire from the <em>top</em>."


    I honestly wish I felt as confident as she sounded just then. I positioned the wire cutters above where they needed to be, and my whole body tensed up. I couldn''t exhale, and I didn''t dare look as I began to apply pressure to the wire cutters...


    Snip.


    I cracked open one of my eyes. The bomb hadn''t exploded, and I let out a heavy sigh of relief.


    "We''re not done yet," Emily said, ruining my mild reprieve. "You still have the second module to disable." I cursed silently under my breath. "Aaaaand now the timer has activated!"


    I''m fairly certain I started swearing far more heavily at that point, but I can''t quite recall the string of profanity that resulted.


    "Alright, calm down, calm down," Emily said hastily. "The symbols on the keypad: you''re going to have to describe them. I can''t see them clearly."


    "Fer fuck sake..." I muttered, finally able to form a coherent thought. "Alright, the only one I recognize is an Omega, that sort of a horseshoe looking thing. There''s one that looks like a trident, a weird sort of 6-looking character, and an ''a'' and ''e'' smashed together."


    "Hold on..." Emily said amid the sound of more flipped pages.


    "Can''t hold on, we''re almost to a minute,"


    "Hold on!" she said again, a bit more desperately this time. "Okay, got it. The sequence is: the weird 6, the Latin a-e, the Psi  er, the trident  and then the Omega."


    Once again, I clenched my teeth (and my bowels), and did as I was told, hoping desperately that it wouldn''t blow up in my face. I pressed all four buttons in sequence, a tiny green light flickered to life in the corner of the bomb, and the countdown timer stopped with 42 seconds to spare.


    "Fantastic!" Emily whooped,ughing happily. "You should be able to detach the mas holding it in ce now..."


    Well, that''s one problem dealt with, I thought, removing the bomb and cing it back in the satchel. By the time I slung the satchel over my shoulder (even disarmed, I couldn''t leave a fuckin'' <strong>bomb</strong> just lying around, could I?), the music from the venue below finally came to a stop. A female voice began speaking, and I slipped back into invisibility to get a good look over the edge of the roof. A stern faced woman in an NCR officer uniform with several gold braids around her right shoulder was at the podium, speaking into the mic.


    "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, her voice echoing off every surface as it sted from all the speakers. "I''d like to thank you foring out here today for this very special asion. It is my pleasure to introduce to you: the President of the New California Republic, Aaron Kimball!"


    Again, the crowd erupted in spontaneous apuse; the female officer started pping herself as she stepped away from the podium, allowing a man in a suit to walk on stage. Kimball looked pretty much exactly like his portraits had always depicted him: arge man in a blue suit and blue tie, with a square jaw and a t-top haircut. He waved to the crowd and smiled as he approached the podium, and acted like the four heavily armed ck Armor Rangers taking position behind him weren''t there.


    "Thank you, Colonel Moore," Kimball said, giving her a nod before turning to the crowd. "And thank you, my fellow Californians, who havee so far to answer the call to service put forth by the Republic..."


    The speech was well and truly underway now. I quickly dragged the bodies out from underneath the vertibird, reactivated the therm-optic camo, and made my way off the roof.


    "Boone, you readin'' me?" I asked, circling the outer edges of the crowd. So far, no one seemed to notice me.


    "Loud and clear," he grunted. "Good work with the bomb by the way."


    "Thanks!" Emily said, quite cheerfully. "I always knew this bomb defusal manual woulde in handy one day!"


    "What''s the view from upstairs?" I asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.


    "Seems quiet..." Boone muttered. I looked up at the ridge; I knew he was there, but I couldn''t see him. Which I supposed was entirely the point. "Scratch that."


    "What? What''s wrong?"


    "The tower," Boone answered curtly. "There''s some kind of ruckus."


    Even with the President''s speech droning on in the background, creating a wonderful nket of white noise, there was only so fast I felt I could move without attracting attention  even when cloaked. I was moving as fast as I dared, and it didn''t feel fast enough.


    I certainly wasn''t fast enough for the Ranger who fell from the tower. He impacted the ground right in front of me the precise moment I arrived at the base of the tower, and turned into a pavement pancake. His head was turnedpletely around from the way it should''ve been, and I couldn''t tell if that was from the fall, or if someone had broken his neck before tossing him over the side.


    Either way, this Ranger was quite dead.


    "Oh God!" Emily squeaked over my headset.


    "That is not encouraging..." I muttered to myself as I started to climb thedder. "Boone, keep me covered."


    "Got it."


    The whole climb up, I silently cursed the need for stealth right now. It was like I was ying the most annoying game of Red Light, Green Light in the world. I mean, what was the point of shit like my grappling hook or the rocket boots or <em>any</em> of my methods of ascending high ces quickly if they were too noisy for me to use? Oh well.


    I vaulted over the side and when Inded on top of the tower I was presented with a ''Ranger.'' Even from my limited experience dealing with actual NCR Rangers, I could tell just from his <em>bodynguage</em> that this guy was no Ranger (despite the armor he was wearing). He was twitchy as all fuck, and looking back and forth quickly; he was pacing without even needing to move his feet. The campaign hat on his head was askew, which was another clue as every other Ranger in the ce wore their hats in line with their spine and all business-like. But I''ll tell you right now what clinched it most of all for me: theck of trigger discipline for the rifle in his hands.


    Still, I''ve been wrong before. And it''s not like the other assassin, who I caught in the act of <em>actually</em> stabbing someone. So, I thought I''d give him the chance to exin himself.


    What can I say, I needed augh.


    "Hey!" I said aloud, decloaking; he immediately jumped at the noise. "There''s a dead ranger downstairs!"


    "Oh, shit!" he said, with an expression that made it clear he''d just done exactly that in his pants. "R-really? Well... we should go take a look then!"


    "You know, you have a radio right there," I said, pointing at the radio console sitting on the table next to him. "You could just... you know. Call it in."


    "Uh..." he paused, and his left eye twitched. "I... I think I should check it out first before radioing it in."


    <em>This guy is </em><em><strong>really</strong></em><em> bad at this</em>, I thought to myself. But the longer I kept him distracted, the less chance he''d have to take a shot at President Dipshit down there. Or, you know. Kimball. Whatever.


    "No, I don''t think so." I said simply. "You need to radio in anything suspicious before you do anything, so you can get orders from higher up the food chain. Don''t they teach you <em>anything</em> at Ranger school?" Again, his eye twitched.


    "Fuck it," he said, trying to lift up his rifle. "You''re more trouble than "


    Before he got a chance to finish, I lightly tapped him in the face with my cybeic fist; he recoiled violently as a fountain of blood burst out of his nose. He rallied surprisingly fast, pulling a knife out from somewhere, but by then I''d already grabbed his rifle and pulled it free of his hands. The knife stabbed the air where I''d been standing seconds before, and I responded in kind with a rifle butt to his face.


    There was a crack of snapping bone, and the disguised Legion assassin fell dead at my feet. For some reason I couldn''t quite understand, I held onto his rifle and didn''t let it go. Drops of blood fell from the end of the stock, sshing on the concrete near my boots. I looked over the edge of the tower, down at the President from this vantage point high above him...


    And I hesitated.


    The Legion were evil, through and through, that much was true enough... but the NCR weren''t exactly saints, either.


    In an instant, my mind was flooded with faces and names: all the young men and women who had been sent in droves to die far from home. So many people. So much potential. All of it squandered. All those brave men women, most of them just kids, with nothing to gain and everything to lose... <em>gone</em>. They''d all had their futures taken from them... and for <em>what</em>?


    To satisfy the <em>greed</em> of that wretched, pathetic excuse for a man below me.


    <em><strong>Aaron Kimball.</strong></em>


    All the wars he''d started and dragged on for fucking <strong>years</strong>... all the bloodshed... all the horror... The me for all of it could beid <strong>squarely</strong> at his feet. That bloodthirsty warhawk  that <em>fucking</em><em><strong>politician!</strong></em>  was to me; constantly urging the NCR ever onward, expanding without heed to the consequences... or to the price paid in blood by far too many.


    The Bear grows without structure. Follows a symbol without knowing its history.


    Ulysses'' wordsing out of my mouth.


    A chill ran up my spine.


    In that single split-second, it was like I could hear the anguished screams of the dead at my heels... and the cold grasp of thousands of hands reaching out for me. wing at me from beyond the grave. Urging me to take the shot. <em>I could do it</em>, I thought to myself, my knuckles cracking as I gripped the rifle even tighter. <em>Right here, right now</em>.<em> I could bring vengeance for all those damned souls who had lost</em><strong><em>everything</em>.</strong>


    <em>You have a clean shot</em>, they all seemed to say.


    <em><strong>End him now.</strong></em>


    "Sheason, are you alright?" Sue''s voice buzzed in my ear, like she was a million miles away. "Your heart rate is elevated and spiking rapidly. Are you in need of assistance?"


    I didn''t say a word.


    I dropped the rifle in my hands.


    "I''m fine..." I muttered through clenched teeth. My voice was thick and hoarse, as if my very throat was made out of sandpaper. I vanished with a rainbow miasma and climbed back down thedder, away from that fucking sniper nest.


    "Nice work up there," Boone''s voice echoed in my ear, rattling around inside my skull. "He didn''t stand a chance."


    "Hrmm," I grunted back. I tried my best to shake it off, and made my way to the edges of the crowd once again; the President was still droning on, apparently giving some kind of award to a young looking and clean-cut soldier on stage next to him.


    "Do you think that''s thest of them?" Emily asked. "I mean... how many is that, anyway?"


    "I count three," Boone grunted. "The one fromst night. The fake engineer with the bomb. And the sniper just now."


    <em>Three</em>.


    A gnawing sensation started pulling at my gut.


    <em>Three.</em>


    Something felt wrong... but it was a different sort of wrong than before...


    <em>Three</em>.


    "It''s not over," I said, suddenly alert and remembering the dozens of hit squads Vulpes had sent my way thest few months. "Legion assassins always travel in packs of <em><strong>four</strong></em>." Speaking of which:


    "Four years ago, we held this dam," Kimball''s voice echoed. It almost sounded like he was getting close to the end of his speech. "Four years ago, we carried the weight. Four years ago, we drew a line through the Mojave as clear as the Colorado River, a line that Caesar cannot cross..."


    I scanned the crowd as he kept talking, trying to fit all the pieces together. Whenever I''d run into (and wiped out) hit squads in the past, they''d work as a team... which meant these weren''t four separate ns, it was all part of the same n. I tried to work it out in my head...


    Someone to nt the bomb on the vertibird, to cut off his escape route. A sniper to take the shot. A backup in case the first one failed. What would the fourth one do? Where would the fourth one


    A soldier at the edge of the crowd started looking around, despite everyone else in the crowd still looking at the President. Confident that no one was looking, he very cautiously and carefully stuck a hand in his pocket, and started slowly walking in the direction of the stage.


    "Em, question:" I asked, tugging at a thought. "That bomb we defused... can it be remotely detonated?"


    "Well, yeah," she sounded confused. "A remote detonator is the primary way of setting it off. The timer was the tampering failsafe. But with the detonation sequencer disabled..." she trailed off, apparentlying to the same conclusion as me.


    "Boone, I got a n," I said. "Get ready to fire on my signal." I made a beeline for the Legion assassin disguised as an NCR trooper walking briskly to the stage.


    "You are the great western light of California!" Kimball continued to drone on, oblivious. "Torchbearers in the darkness! Living reminders of all that is best in our Republic! Thank you, thank you!" He gave onest wave, and there was a slight pause as he stepped away from the podium. And then: "Okay, let''s get the fuck out of here. What the hell are you waiting for? Do you think I want to get shot? Let''s go!"


    A ripple of nervousughter washed over the crowd, while the assassin pulled the detonator out of his pocket. He clicked the button several times, and he looked up at the defiantly un-exploded vertibird in frustration. He looked over at the empty tower, and then back behind him at the ridge, and his eyes went wide before folding into a scowl.


    "Damnit!" he growled, tossing away the detonator and pulling a surprisinglyrge de out of his left sleeve. He raised the de high above his head and rushed to the stage, yelling: "Ave, true to Csar!"


    The crowd erupted in screams and shouts as people started to flee in every direction, and the infernal racket <em>almost</em> managed to drown out the sound of snapping bone. His arm bent and twisted out of shape in my grip, and I could tell that all this fast movement was making my therm-optic camo flicker and fail something awful. I grabbed him by the cor with one hand, and buried my other fist into his face. I hit him several times, his face bing more concave with every punch.


    The crowd continued to scream  and why not? As far as they could tell, a semi-transparent ghost was beating the shit out of a man who tried to kill the President. But I wasn''t bothered. I just shifted my weight around, looping the satchel strap around his head, and keeping a firm hold on his squirming, bleeding body with my cybeic hand. The satchel with the bomb suddenly appeared when it passed through the invisibility cloak.


    "Ready?" I asked Boone.


    "Pull," he replied. I mustered all the strength I could manage with my cybeic arm and threw the assassin as high and as far as I possibly could. He screamed as he tumbled end over end, sailing through the air, directly above the dam.


    A hush fell over the crowd as they saw this absurd spectacle, and that meant everyone heard the muffled rifle shot... right before the bomb tied around his neck exploded, consuming him in a ball of fire. It was far enough away from the crowd when it exploded, that I''m fairly certain nobody (except the assassin) got hurt. In fact, it almost looked like some kind of fireworks disy going off. Almost.


    "Nice shot," I said, pressing the button on my belt and returning toplete visibility; the therm-optic camo was still flickering, and with thest assassin dead, I figured I could afford to turn it off... at least momentarily.


    "Nice throw," Boone responded. I looked back at the ridge and gave him a thumbs up. I was just about to leave, when suddenly I heard the unmistakable sounds of half a dozen rifles being brought to bear. I looked back, and sure enough, all the ck Armor Rangers in Kimball''s honor guard had their guns trained on me.


    Oh, right. I''m not supposed to be here.


    "Now, now, they''ll be none of that..." I heard Kimball say, as he gently put a hand on top of the nearest rifle, and all of them lowered their guns at once. He walked towards me, straightening his tie and trying to smooth his suit. "I think that thanks are in order. If it wasn''t for your impressive abilities, that suicide bomber could have seriously hurt someone in the crowd here! So I thank you... whoever you are." He cleared his throat and seemed to pose for the cameras that were focused on him as he extended a hand in my direction. "What''s your name, son?"


    A very bad idea suddenly sprang into my head.


    Punch the head, don''t kick the feet.


    "Oh, I''m just a Courier..." I coughed out with augh, looking around at the crowd. Everyone was looking at me, and I was very, <em>very </em>d I was wearing this helmet. I took one step forward, but didn''t shake his hand. "And I''ve got a message for you. I may have saved your life... but that doesn''t mean I have to <em>like</em> you." Kimball looked confused, and rightly so.


    "What?" he asked.


    CRACK!


    All it took was one solid left hook across the jaw, and the President of the NCR was knocked the fuck out on live TV.


    "Message delivered!" I yelled as I ran in the opposite direction. By the time the bullets started flying, I had already vanished behind the therm-optic camouge. Within seconds, I was well and truly gone.


    "Good, you''re packed up already!" I said, decloaking as I ran for my Corvega. Boone was already waiting for me in the passenger seat. "I think it''s time for us to go, too! Great minds think alike, eh?"


    Within seconds of me getting in, I fired my car up we were high-tailing it away from Hoover Dam as quickly as the wheels would allow. For a few seconds, Boone didn''t say anything, and just let me get on with the ''getting us out of here as quickly as possible'' part of the n. But then he started to shake his head.


    "You <em>punched</em> him," he growled out. "You punched... the President... in the face."


    "On live TV!" I gave him a smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat. "I figured it was either punch a dick in the head, or punch a dick-head, so I went with the high road instead of below the belt." Boone just sighed heavily while I startedughing. Somewhere high above us, I could hear the rhythmic thud of the President''s vertibird taking off and heading back to California.


    "Was that strictly <em>necessary</em>?" he asked rhetorically.


    "Maybe not," I shrugged. "Felt good, though."

 Chapter 169: The Calm

    Chapter 169: The Calm


    <em>That''s right kids, it''s me  Three Dog! Bow wow! How''re you kids handling Post-Apocalyptia tonight? Got lots of great music lined up for all y''all tonight. We''ve got "Children of the Grave" from ck Sabbath, Led Zeppelin with some pure "Rock and Roll," and we''ve even got a little Queen with "You''re My Best Friend." But I think I''m going to kick off this long block of new music with some Pink Floyd. It''s "Wish You Were Here," and I''m d you''re here with me, only on Gxy News Radio! AHWOOOO!</em>


    The orange and purple hues of a sunset were filtering through the clouds and onto the Lucky 38''s balcony. I was leaning against one of the railings, watching the city below; it was already a bustle of activity, and the first of the neon lights were starting to blink into life. Despite all the... <em>excitement</em> earlier, I hadn''t heard a peep from Crocker or anyone else from the NCR embassy. For that matter, I didn''t hear any unusual chatter in my earpiece from any of the securitrons currently patrolling Freeside. Not even so much as a <em>mugging</em>.


    I was quite d about that. With the threat of Legion crossing the Dam getting ever closer, looming over my head like the Sword of Damocles, I honestly had no idea how many quiet nights I had left...


    "Wurf!" As if by magic, Roxie suddenly appeared at my side. I hadn''t even heard here onto the balcony. Had I really been <em>that</em> lost in thought?


    "Oh, hey girl!" I knelt down to scratch her behind the braincase; she rubbed her face into my hand and started idly pawing at me. "What''s up? You hungry?"


    "I think she just wanted to see you," Christine said, walking onto the balcony. "I was wondering why she was leading me out here."


    "Christine!" I smiled up at her, continuing to pet the enormous dog. "Hi! I''ve hardly seen you thest couple of days. Been keeping yourself busy, have you?" I kept smiling broadly at her, with the best shit-eating grin I could muster; she just blushed and looked away, trying not to look smug.


    "Oh... you know... rtively busy..." she chuckled.


    "Well, I''m d," I said, standing up and holding onto the railing. Roxie started trotting around, doing figure-8''s around the both of us. "After everything that''s happened, you two deserve your shot."


    "Heh... thanks." Christine nodded slowly, leaning against the railing several paces away from me and looking out across the city. "Actually... I''ve been meaning to talk to you."


    "Yeah? What''s up?" I asked.


    "Well..." Christine started wringing her hands together nervously. "I never got a chance to... you know..." She cleared her throat loudly. "Er... that is... uh... when I stayed behind in the Madre... I... uh... I had plenty of time to... <em>think</em>. And every day after sending you away, I wondered if... I wondered if I made the wrong choice, staying behind like I did. And after thest few days, I realized..." She cleared her throat, yet again. "It <strong>was </strong>the wrong choice. I should''vee back to Veronica sooner. So I... I just..." She sighed heavily. "Thank you."


    "Oh, hey, no, don''t worry about it!" I waved it off with a smile andugh. "After everything that happened between us in the Madre, it''s the least I could do, you know?"


    "I just wish I''d... figured... that... that..." she shook her head and let out a single weak chuckle, before looking back up at me with a smile. "There are some things more important in life than an oath to a dead man."


    "Hey, you still figured it out eventually," I said, patting her shoulder. "And that''s what matters."


    The two of us stood on that balcony, looking out at the city below us, and we just startedughing.


    "Oh, there y''are!" Cass greeted us as Christine, Roxie and I came into the kitchen from outside. "Was wonderin'' where you guys had gone." Cass, Veronica and Boone were all sitting around the kitchen table; Veronica got up and met Christine with a hug while I sat down with everyone else.


    "Hey you," Veronica whispered as the two lovebirds sat down and started smooching.


    "So, what''s going on?" I asked, leaning back into one of the chairs. "We gonna get some grub soon?"


    "Well, we were," Cass shrugged. "But we can''t find Arcade. Far as I know, nobody''s seen him all day."


    "What, nobody?" Cass shook her head. I sighed, getting up. Damn, just when I was gettingfortable, too. "I guess we better go look for him, then."


    "Sounds good t''me!" Cass got up and pped Veronica on the back; Christine was sitting on herp. "D''you two wannae, or are y''gonna be upied fer th'' next couple hours?"


    "Uh..." Veronica looked up at Christine, who just shrugged. "Sure! Sounds like it could be fun!"


    "I''ve been meaning to get outside more, anyway," Christine chuckled as she hopped up off Veronica''sp. "It''s still nice to breathe the fresh air instead of poison all the time." The three girls (and the dog) made their way out of the kitchen and over to the elevator in the next room, but Boone kept sitting in his seat, with a hand on his beer.


    "You wannae with?" I asked. "You''re wee to join us... I mean..." I coughed nervously. "Unless you''re still mad at me about what happened earlier?" Boone screwed his face up with a grumble, but eventually shook his head.


    "Nah," he grunted, finishing off his beer and getting up. "I''m not mad. He''s still alive, after all. That''s the important thing." He paused on his way to the door, letting out a half chuckle. "Besides... the more I think about it... yeah, I admit. Punching him in the face <em>was</em> kinda funny."


    "Y-yeah," I chuckled nervously, watching as he left.


    I''ll be honest, those thoughts I''d had on top of the tower were still roaming around the inside of my skull, scratching away at the back of my mind. I still had <em>no idea</em> where that sudden and wholly unwee desire to kill him had trulye from. The fact that I''d almoste so close to pulling the trigger when <em>saving the President''s life</em> was <strong>literally</strong> the whole reason we even went out there... it was filling me with a sense of unease that I couldn''t shake off. Mostly because I couldn''t understand <em>what</em> I had been <em>thinking</em>... And how the hell do I not know what <strong>I </strong>am thinking?!


    C''mon, man. Focus. Compartmentalize. The moment is long since gone. You don''t have to worry about it anymore.


    It''s not important.


    "Hey, man!" Cass called out from the other room. "Yin'' r''what?"


    "Yeah, yeah, I''m on my way!" I yelled back, walking to the elevator.


    Ding.


    "Hey guys!" I called out into the echo-y Penthouse as I left the elevator. From the other room, I could hear Yes Man''s monitor blink into life.


    "Hi there!" he boomed happily. "What can I do for you today?" April and Emily emerged from the nearby kitchen, each holding a steaming cup of coffee.


    "Oh, hello," Emily gave us a wave as she blew on her coffee to cool it down. And then she paused when she realized all of us were up here. "Oh boy. What''s wrong?"


    "What... what''s <em>wrong</em>?" I repeated. "I''m not sure I " Before I could finish, April cut me off.


    "Thest time you all came up here, the Lone Wanderer showed up and you guys had to fight Space Nazis on the Moon." April very calmly took a sip of coffee. "So, what''s the ridiculous problem on our te this time? An intergctic locust swarm? A horde of pre-warmunist robots built by the preserved brain of Chairman Cheng? An army of mole-men from the Earth''s core wearing silly hats?"


    "Oh, no, it''s nothing like that..." I waved them off, amidst the intermittentughter from Cass and Veronica behind me. "It''s just that nobody''s seen Arcade all day, and we thought you guys might know where he''s gone." April and Emily looked at each other, and April shrugged.


    "No, we haven''t seen him either..." Emily said with a shake of her head.


    "I think I might know where he''s gone!" Yes Man spoke up, drawing everyone''s attention to the big screen. His face flickered slightly. "A few hours ago, several cameras in Freeside picked up Arcade heading in the direction of the Followers of the Apocalypse headquarters in the Old Mormon Fort."


    "That sounds promising!" Veronica chimed in happily.


    "You guys wannae?" I asked April and Emily with a smile. "Once we find him, we''re all gonna get some food."


    "I dunno..." Emily scratched the back of her head and chuckled nervously. "I mean, we''ve still got a bit of work to do yet, and..." She trailed off when she realized that a veryrge cybeic dog was whimpering at her feet, looking up at them pitifully and pawing at the two scientists gently. April shrugged, finished off her coffee, and set the empty mug down.


    "Sounds like fun," April pped me on the shoulder, and her long ck braid swished in the air behind her as she slid past me to the elevator. "What''re we waiting for?"


    We all ended up walking down Vegas Boulevard rather than driving. With Cass, Boone, Veronica, Christine, Emily, April, and Roxie all following me, there wasn''t enough space in my Corvega. I would''ve taken the Deuce, but Stripe wasying half-in, half-out of the truck, snoring loudly, and... Well, we decided to just leave him be. Probably a bad idea to wake up a sleeping deathw, you know?


    The walk to the Old Mormon Fort was actually pretty rxing. I honestly couldn''t remember thest time I''d gone for a walk through the Freeside streets (as opposed to hopping along the rooftops) after dark without someone trying to mug me or a gunfight spontaneously breaking out. But everything seemed quiet. There were tons of regr people out walking the streets, and a few of them even appeared <em>unarmed</em>. And that sat as a <strong>very</strong> stark contrast to me, let me tell you. Despite not expecting any action, I was <strong>still</strong> carrying three pistols, a sawed-off shotgun, and four knives.


    The most heartening thing I saw on the trip was the evidence of repairs being done to the damaged city. You see, The King and I had a bit of a one-on-one during the big meeting the other day, and we decided to use his contacts and my money (which Yes Man had been managing, so I now had more than I knew what to do with) to hire some out-of-work construction workers to fix the damage caused by the Enve. It wasn''t going to be a permanent solution to theck of jobs in Freeside, but it would provide a decent shot of adrenaline to the economy until after the big fight at Hoover Dam. Once the NCR and Legion were no longer a threat, that''s when Yes Man would restart some of the abandoned factories around town... and they would all need employees.


    After all, you can''t build a nation with a GDP of $0. And yes, I realize that''s probably the <em>least entertaining thing </em>I''ve ever said in the course of this narrative. But if there''s one thing I learned from the Lone Wanderer, it''s this: if you <em>truly</em> want to help out people, then there''s more to being A Good Guy than gunfights, car chases, thrilling action setpieces, and massive explosions. Those can certainly help in the short term, but the end-goal of this experiment of mine is to get to a point where massive explosions are no longer <em>needed</em>.


    When our amorphous cluster of people finally got to the gates of the Mormon Fort, we were greeted by an unexpected  but certainly not unwee  voice. It wasn''t really that much of a surprise, as his motorcycle was parked just outside the gate.


    "H mis amigos!" Raul appeared from one of the tents with a wave. "Didn''t expect to see you guys around here." His sombrero wasn''t actually on his head, but strapped to his back; it was a bit too huge and ridiculous to be on top of his head when he was inside the tents, presumably.


    "I could say the same for you," I said with a chuckle, high-fiving his outstretched hand. "I like the coat, by the way." He nodded smugly, grabbing his (obviously Gun Runner up-armored) duster by the cor.


    "Thanks. I needed a better way to carry all my machetes," he said, pulling open his coat to reveal at least a dozen knives  probably more  strapped to the duster lining. Cass whistled loudly from somewhere behind me.


    "Nice," Iughed again. "So, what''re you doing here?"


    "Not much," Raul shrugged. "Just picking up a few supplies, and seeing how a few of my rescues are doing. You?"


    "Looking for Arcade," I shrugged. "Once we find him, we''re all gonna get some food. Wanna join in?" Raul nodded with augh.


    "Sounds like fun, Boss. As for where we can find him, I''m pretty sure he was talking to Julie, earlier..."


    There were a few more minutes of small talk before I managed to slip away to try and find Julie. Truth be told, I had to talk to her about something else anyway, and this would save me quite a bit of time.


    "Hey, Julie!" I waved, trying to get her attention. Her mohawk wobbled on top of her head as she turned to face the sound. "Got a minute?"


    "Sheason! Hello!" She smiled, and then looked around again. "Um... yes, things are pretty calm around here. What''s up?"


    "Oh, y''know," I shrugged. "A couple things. First, though: how''s thetest shipment been holding up? You have everything you need?" Her face seemed to light up, and she nodded enthusiastically.


    "Everything came in fine. We haven''t had a surplus of medical supplies like this in... well... <em>ever</em>!" She chuckled


    "And the vaporators?" I asked. "You guys aren''t having any trouble with the schematics I gave you, right?" Julie tossed me a look of knowing exasperation.


    "Sheason," she folded her arms across her chest. "Seriously, what do you need?"


    "Alright, I''ll cut to the chase, then..." Iughed, reaching into my back pocket. "And it''s not what <strong>I </strong>need. It''s what <strong>you </strong>need... me to give you." Julie blinked several times.


    "What?" she asked. I motioned for her to hold out her hand; she opened her palm, and I ced a rtively small metal rectangle in it. The chip was slightly bigger than the tinum Chip, and had the twin hexagon logo of the Big MT stamped on the top, with a barcode along one of the edges. She looked at it curiously. "What... what''s this?"


    "That right there is an authorization code. Think of it like a... master key."


    "A key?" she asked, holding it up between her thumb and forefinger to get a better look. "What does it open?"


    "ess to the Lucky 38," I said simply; she nched, and very nearly dropped it. "That includes all theputer systems, Yes Man, Jeeves... the whole shebang. With that, you''ll be able to run Vegas, manage all the ns we have to bring Vegas into the future... and out of the darkness." I patted her shoulder, and she just kept looking at. "And I''m giving it to you."


    "Wh... what..." she kept staring, at a loss for words. She gulped hard and looked back up at me. "Why?"


    "I''ve been doing a lot of thinkin''tely," I said, shoving my thumbs through my belt loops. "Pretty soon, the time is gonnae when Vegas won''t need a guy like me runnin'' the show. S''like I said the other day... all I know is how to fight... an'' deliver messages..." I shook my head. "I can make sure Vegas is safe from tyrants, but she''ll need someone better than me to look after things and... give her back to the people. Make her <em>truly</em> free."


    That''s not the only thing I''m thinking about, I didn''t say aloud. The big fight was nearly on us. And I wanted to think that I was skilled enough to make it through in one piece... But if my time fighting the Enve taught me anything, it was that I was still human. Technically. All it would take is one lucky shot, and that would be the end of it.


    There was a nagging feeling pulling away at my insides, which refused to go away. I needed to make sure everything was prepared. Just in case worse came to worse.


    "But..." Julie cleared her throat again. "I don''t understand. Why are you giving this to <strong>me</strong>?"


    "Couple reasons, actually. Hell, just what you''ve done here with the Followers, keeping them afloat on a paperclip and half a shoestring? That''s reason enough to hand you the reigns, just so I could see what you can do with an actual <em>budget</em>. But all I''d really have to do is ask anyone around Freeside a simple question: who is the most dependable, mostpassionate, most caring, most responsible, and most <em>intelligent</em> person around?" I nodded, pointing at her. "It''s you." I chuckled. "Like I told you before, everyone loves ya, Julie."


    "Bu..." Julie looked down at the chip in her hands. "I still don''t..."


    "Of all the people I could chose who are smart enough to lead Vegas... and smart enough to know how to wield this much power effectively... you''re the only one I can count on <strong>not </strong>to let the power go to your head. I know you won''t abuse this. So, what do you say? Will you ept this great offer, and lead Vegas into that bright, shining future?"


    Julie was silent for a very long time. She stared down at the square chip in her hands. Very slowly, she shook her head and tried to hand the chip back.


    "... No. I can''t. No one person should have this kind of power." I smiled back at her, pushing the chip back into her palm, and closing her fingers around it.


    "And <em>that</em>, right there, is why it''s <strong>gotta</strong> be you."


    "Are you sure this is the ce, Boss?" Raul asked, as we all stood in the street, looking at the sign above the door.


    "Well, Julie <em>said</em> this is where he was going..." I shrugged, continuing to stare.


    The Dude Ranch. That was apparently the name of this bar, picked out in big, old-timey western letters. The "D" was wearing a cowboy hat, and there were ropes andssos looped around the sign.


    "I just can''t picture Arcadeing to a ce like this..." Emily said, shaking her head at the sign. "He''s just so... <em>stuffy</em> and <em>proper</em>, you know? Not really the cowboy sort." I couldn''t help but agree with her there. Every time I wore that Stetson I got from Shelby (which, as it happens, I was wearing <em>now</em>) Arcade had some new snarkyment, all ready and waiting. While almost everyone was busy muttering and staring at the sign, I couldn''t help but notice Boone, off in the back: he wasn''t really saying anything (nothing surprising there) but I could swear he was <em>snickering</em>.


    And then, when we walked inside, I figured out why.


    "Ohhhh," I snapped my fingers and startedughing. "I get it now. <em>Dude</em> Ranch. Clever!"


    "Nevermind," Emily sighed. "I can picture him here."


    This was <strong>definitely</strong> a gay bar. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind about that much. The ce was loud, it was noisy, it was colorful, and it was full of moving, sweaty, oily, leather-d bodies. It kind of reminded me of a few bars in New Reno I''d been to; like a cross between Five Star and The Patio. Then again, Five Star isn''t strictly speaking a ''gay'' bar, what with all the stripper poles everywhere... But this ce <em>definitely</em> had a distinct ''Patio'' vibe. That bar had dozens of pictures of really toned muscle-y man-torso lining the walls, too. All we needed was a rainbow colored parasol out front.


    The other thing it had inmon with The Patio was the music: the unmistakable, slightly off key and very drunken sounds of karaoke being piped through the speakers in the ceiling.


    "The ce certainly has character," Veronica said, somewhere off to my left. I nodded.


    "I''m surprised we haven''t been here before," I said as I looked around, trying to find Arcade. I''m sure he was definitely in here somewhere. Suddenly, I realized that almost <strong>everyone</strong> was looking at me like I''d lost my marbles. "What?"


    "<em>You''re</em> surprised we haven''t been to a gay bar?" Cass asked with augh. "<em><strong>You?</strong></em>"


    "Well, sure!" I shrugged. "The only ces I know of that can still make a halfway decent mai-tai or mojito are the gay bars I''ve been to. Don''t know why, but that''s just the way it is."


    "And you would know that, how?" April asked, trying to hold back a smirk. "Way I hear it, you''re straight as an arrow." I shrugged andughed, walking deeper into the bar to try and find Arcade.


    "You can''t open up the book of my life and jump in the middle," I saiding to a halt. "I''m an enigma wrapped in a mystery."


    "I thought you were an idiot wrapped in a moron," Cass shot back. I shrugged, smiling back at her with a wink.


    "Well, you''re wrapped around me quite often..."


    "Hey!"


    "Now, hang on..." I pointed to a spot in front of us. "Correct me if I''m wrong, but isn''t that Arcade up on stage?"


    Sure enough, the blonde bespectacled scientist was up on the small stage, microphone in hand, and giant projector screen with the karaoke lyrics behind him. At first, I almost didn''t recognize him; he wasn''t wearing hisbcoat. The number of times I''d seen him <em>without</em> hisbcoat could be counted on one hand, and most of those were when he was getting out of the shower. The closer we got, the more we were able to hear his (surprisingly good) singing voice:


    <em>Stand by your man,</em>


    <em>And show the world you love him,</em>


    <em>Keep giving all the love you</em>


    <em>Ca-a-a-a-an!</em>


    <em>Staaaaaaand... byyyyyyy... your maaaaaan!</em>


    Cheers, woops, apuse and whistles erupted from the collective patrons, and we joined in, despite only having heard thest little bit. Arcade took a few unsteady bows before he looked in our direction; his face lit up, and he immediately hopped off the stage and made a beeline for us.


    "Guys!" He said with a smile and augh. "Hi! What''re you doin'' here?" His speech seemed to be peppered with tiny chuckles, and his sses were slightly askew. I pulled as straight a face as I could muster.


    "We''re looking for you," I said, reaching up to straighten his sses. "Quite the ce you''ve found here." Arcadeughed again.


    "Isn''t it just the best thing ever?" he pped my shoulder with anotherugh.


    "Are you drunk?" Boone asked from behind me, a bit needlessly, I thought. Arcade started nodding furiously, causing his sses to go all screwy again.


    "Oh, <strong>absolutely</strong>!" I honestly don''t think I''d ever seen him smile so broad. "Have y''had anything yet? They make a hell''ve a mojito here!" Now it was my turn tough.


    "Y''see? I told you!" was all I managed to get out before Arcade yanked me away from the group suddenly. I would''ve resisted, but I was just so confused. "Wait, what? Where are we going?"


    "Th'' stage!" Arcade slurred, shoving the microphone against my chest. "It''s karaoke night, so y''gotta sing!" And before I knew it, I was in the middle of the stage, staring into a spotlight hanging from the ceiling, with a RobCo terminal next to me, listing all the songs they had.


    The entire bar erupted in spontaneous silence. For several seconds, nothing happened. Then, nothing continued to happen.


    "Sing something!" Cass shouted from the edge of the stage. So, I tapped a few buttons on the terminal next to me, and started browsing through the list of songs, trying to find a song I actually knew. I want to say that there was a surprising number of country and western songs, but really... not all that surprising, given the name of this ce.


    "Oh, hey, I think I know this one!" I said, selecting a Willie Nelson song and hitting enter. "One, two, a-one-two-three-four" The sound of drums and twangy guitar riffs ying to the steady and unmistakable beat of a train on the move filled the bar. I started tapping my foot to the beat, and made my best attempt to sing.


    <em>On the road again</em>


    <em>Just can''t wait to get on the road again</em>


    <em>The life I love is makin'' music with my friends</em>


    <em>And I can''t wait to get on the road again!</em>


    While I was up there, warbling away into the microphone, I motioned at everyone else in our group toe up and join me. I''m the first to admit that I don''t really have much of a singing voice; I have a range of about two notes, and both of them are off key. But I figured if I could get everyone up here to join me, it wouldn''t seem so bad. A problem shared is a problem halved, right?


    <em>On the road again</em>


    <em>Goin'' ces that I''ve never been</em>


    <em>Seein'' things that I may never see again</em>


    <em>And I can''t wait to get on the road again!</em>


    None of them seemed to be taking the hint, so I decided on a more direct form of persuasion. Halfway through the second verse, I hopped off the stage, grabbed Cass, and dragged her up with me. By the time next verse started, the two of us were singing almost in unison, arms wrapped around each other.


    <em>On the road again</em>


    <em>Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway</em>


    <em>We''re the best of friends</em>


    <em>Insisting that world keep turning our way</em>


    <em>And our way...</em>


    By now, Veronica and Christine had joined us on one side, with Arcade bounding up the stage to my other side, draping his arm around my neck. The five of us all started singing...


    <em>Is on the road again</em>


    <em>Just can''t wait to get on the road again</em>


    <em>The life I love is makin'' music with my friends</em>


    <em>And I can''t wait to get on the road again!</em>


    By now, it was like the whole bar had joined in on the fun. But they couldn''t really sing along, as it was the big guitar solo in the middle... so everyone was shouting and pping and stomping their feet to the beat instead. Reluctantly, thest few stragglers in our group decided to get in on it before the song ended. April and Emily were first, followed by Raul, and  of course  Boone wasst. Couldn''t really me him. He was <strong>massively </strong>out of his element here. But as soon as he got up on stage with all of us in that big clusterfuck, he was smiling and singing like the rest of us. Even Roxie had her paws up on the edge of the stage, and was howling and barking along to the music.


    "Everybody!" I shouted, and the whole bar erupted in voices, all singing along.


    <em>On the road again</em>


    <em>Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway</em>


    <em>We''re the best of friends</em>


    <em>Insisting that world keep turning our way</em>


    <em>And our way</em>


    <em>Is on the road again</em>


    <em>Just can''t wait to get on the road again</em>


    <em>The life I love is makin'' music with my friends</em>


    <em>And I can''t wait to get on the road again!</em>


    <em>And I can''t wait to get on the road again!</em>


    There was onest twangy guitar riff, and the whole bar erupted in cheers and massive apuse. And I honestly couldn''t tell if it was because they liked the song, or if it was because Veronica had dipped Christine and the two of them were having a great big snog right on stage in front of everyone.


    Probably thetter. I know <em>I </em>wanted to cheer.


    "Who''s up for another?" I asked.


    Apparently the ce served food, so we ended up deciding to stay. Nobody here seemed to mind us much, despite several of ourpany not actually being gay; that reason I learned after a rather lengthy discussion with the bartender-sh-owner. He insisted that this bar was not, in fact, a ''gay'' bar, but was merely ''a ce for people who wanted to have a good time and be themselves without ridicule or persecution.'' And hey, we were all having a st, so who was I to argue?


    It did make me wonder, though: that sounded suspiciously like the motto of the Five Star Saloon up in New Reno, almost word for word. Did the owners know each other? Truly, it was a mystery for the ages.


    After an hour or two, most of us were spread out. Veronica and Christine were up on stage, singing a sappy love song duet. Boone, Raul, April and Emily were ying pool. Arcade was riding (or more specifically, <em>dancing</em>) on the bucking brahmin. Cass and I, meanwhile, were tucked away in a quiet secluded booth off in a corner, with a perfect view of everything going on. Roxie was curled up in a ball on the seat to my right, with Cass on my left. My arm was draped around her, she was leaning into me, and we were sharing a mojito,plete with paper umbre and a pair of bendy straws sticking out of the top.


    "I think Veronica''s found the singer for her band," I said, and Cass nodded.


    "Yeah, who knew Christine could sing, right?" she asked.


    "Well," I shrugged. "She <em>does</em> have the voice of Vera Keyes." Cass looked up at me with a furrowed brow.


    "Who?"


    "Never mind, it''s not important," I said, waving it off. Cass let out a contented "Hmm," and settled back into her spot, resting against me. And as I sat there with my arm around her, absentmindedly toying with her hair, I couldn''t help butugh softly.


    "What''s up?" Cass asked.


    "Oh... y''know. Just thinking of somethin'' funny, is all. You remember what you said when we first met?"


    "Said a lot''ve things back then," she shrugged, and rested her head against me.


    "I just remember you sayin'' nothing was gonna happen between us," I chuckled. "You were <strong>very</strong> specific. Very explicit. And look at us now, huh?" Cass shrugged again.


    "Well, y''know. That was ''fore I got to know ya. B''sides..." she shifted in her seat, snaked her arm behind my neck and kissed me on the cheek. "People change."


    "Thank you," I said with a nod, holding her closer. "Thanks for... everything. You''ve always been here for me, every step of the way, and "


    "Well, not <em>every</em> step," Cass smirked and stuck out her tongue.


    "You know what I mean," I said with augh. "I''m d you''re with me on this. I''m d you''re... <em>here</em>. I wouldn''t have it any other way." Cass smiled at me, taking my face in her hand and kissed me softly.


    "This caravan ain''t done travelin'' yet, motherfucker..." sheughed again. "We''re only just gettin'' started."

 Chapter 170: The Storm

    Chapter 170: The Storm


    <em>Hey, kiddies! This is Three Dog, your friendly neighborhood disc jockey! What''s a disc? Hell if I know! But I''m gonna keep talkin'' anyway! Got a lot of great musicing straight for your ear-hole a littleter, but right now we''re gonna start with request from a loyal listener livin'' in Vegas. It''s somethin'' from a little band called Foreigner, telling the story of a man "At War With the World." All that and more,ing up next  only on Gxy News Radio! AHWOOOO!</em>


    It was just before noon on December the 26th, 2281.


    Everything seemed quiet, so most of us were hanging out in themon room. Boone and Veronica were ying a few rounds of pool. Arcade had finished nursing his hangover, and was ying darts against Christine. Cass was sprawled out on the couch, with Roxie on herp. And I was in the easy chair, finishing up the job of cleaning Roscoe.


    Just as I snapped the slide back in ce, Roxie perked her head up and leapt off Cass''p, barking at the ceiling.


    "Rox?" I asked. "What''s up, girl?" My response came from a series of atonal beeps that were emitted from every speaker in the room  including the speaker on my Pip Boy and the tiny speaker in my earpiece.


    "Exciting news!" Yes Man''s voice bellowed. "Caesar''s Legion has begun the assault on Hoover Dam! Monster of the East, ready to roll!"


    The room erupted in noise and frenzied movement.


    "QUIET! QUIET! EVERYONE SHUT UP!" I yelled, trying to get everyone to calm down. This was no time to panic. Part of me wanted to ask how he knew, but then I remembered the half-dozen Big MT satellites performing orbital reconnaissance thesest few weeks. We all knew this wasing, and we were prepared for it, so we needed to <em>act </em>like it. "How long do we have before the Legion breaks through the final NCR barricade and reaches this side of the Colorado?"


    "If the panicked NCR traffic I''m picking up is any indication?" Yes Man paused. "We have maybe an hour. But probably less! Exciting, isn''t it?"


    "Then we better get moving. Everyone, gear up and meet me in the garage, we''re on the road in five."


    "S''gonna be just like the assault on th'' Moon Base, huh?" Cass chuckled.


    "I hope not, we barely made it out of there alive." She rolled her eyes and gave me a quick peck on the cheek (not to mention a swat on the ass) before leaving. Everyone else swiftly followed  except for Arcade, who I grabbed by the shoulder before he left. "Hold up. I got a special mission for you."


    "Mission? What kind of mission?" he asked with narrow eyes.


    "Well, first I need you to contact the Remnants, since... y''know. You''re the only one who knows how to call them anyway. Once they''re on the move, grab April from upstairs and head on over to the Mormon Fort," I said. He opened his mouth to protest, but I kept going. "Look, we both know that you''re better at <em>healing </em>people than <em>killing </em>them. And things in Freeside are going to get a <strong>lot</strong> worse before they get better. Julie and the rest of the Followers are going to need all hands on deck, and as much help as they can get before the day is done. Plus..." I shrugged. "I don''t think you want to be nearby when the Remnants swoop in. It''ll keep people from asking too many questions, y''know?"


    "Yeah... fair enough." He nodded somberly, before taking my hand in his with a firm handshake... and then:


    "Fuck it, I''m going for it," he said, quickly taking my face in his hands and nting a kiss on my lips. Part of me felt like I should''ve been surprised. But to be perfectly honest, the only thing that surprised me was that it took him <em>that </em>long. I''d been expecting something like this ever since I offered to kiss him after the coffee he''d brewed that one time.


    "They''ll be time enough for thatter," I said pulling away, and patting his cheek. "Right now, we''ve got a job to do." He nodded, clearing his throat.


    "R-right. Of course. You... take care of yourself, Sheason," he said. I urged him out the door.


    "Don''t you worry about me, man. I''ll be fine. Now get moving, we''re on the clock!" As soon as he was gone, I rushed to my room to grab my gear, and tapped my earpiece. "Em, you online? It''s starting!"


    "I know," Emily''s voice came in through my ear, amid a flurry of typing. "What do you need, boss?"


    "A lot of heavy duty tactical support," I said, slipping on the Gun Runner armor as fast as possible; Sue was gone, which meant Cass was probably wearing her. "Shit is bound to get hairy, and I''m gonna need your eye in the sky, now more than ever. Can you send a message to the Boomers?"


    "I can do better than that," she said. "I''ll let you know as soon as I get them patched into our radiowork. If they do everything right, you''ll have a direct line to the B-29 once it''s in the air."


    "Good," I nodded, grabbing the Alien ster in one hand and my helmet in the other. "We''re gonna need the biggest guns we can get for this one."


    Ding.


    "There y''are!" Cass said from her spot leaning against my Corvega, shotgun resting against her shoulder. "We''re cocked, locked, and ready to rock!" I nodded at her, as Roxie trotted happily by my side.


    Like I predicted, she was wearing Sue, the up-armored duster, and about 7 spare ammo drums for the AA-12. Boone was decked out in the Desert Ranger armor with an anti-materiel rifle slung across his shoulder, and the Gobi-campaign rifle in hand. Christine was armored in the stealth suit I''d seen her wearing in the Madre, loaded to the brim with ammo for her COS sniper rifle. And Veronica... looked exactly like she always did, with her armor hidden by the brown robe and with a power fist on one hand, and Oh, Baby! in the other.


    "Awesome," I said as I tossed my keys to Cass without even bothering to slow down; she caught them in midair and immediately got in my car. "You guys get a move on; I''ll be right behind you." While Cass, Boone, and Veronica all got into the Corvega, Christine looked confused.


    "Where are you going?" she yelled over the rumble of the engine.


    "To get the biggest guns!" I gave onest wave before turning on my heel and heading down the ramp to the lower levels of the garage. Roxie bounded off ahead of me into the darkness, and by the time I flipped the heavy toggle to turn the lights on, she was already leaping into the cab of the Deuce.


    "Hey, Stripe! Sasha!" I pped several times, as the lights above my head turned on with a series of clunks. "Wake up, big guys! We got a fight on!" There was a rumble from inside the back of the Deuce, and Stripe poked out his head with a growl, eyes glinting with malice. Shortly after, the minigun emerged from behind the p, and... seemed just a little bit more sluggish than the deathw.


    "?" Sasha coughed out with a bark, as the barrels started to spin. "...?" Stripe looked up at the minigun, snorting loudly in annoyance.


    "<strong>Of course it''s a fight...</strong>" Stripe growled, shimmying his entire body like a cat; Sasha jerked on his mechanical gimbal, and seemed a bit more awake. "<strong>The scent of blood is in the air. The enemy n has made their move, haven''t they Alpha?</strong>"


    "Yes, they have," I said, leaping into the drivers seat and starting up the Deuce. "You boys best strap in back there, we''re goin'' straight for Hoover Dam!" Stripe growled out a deep, bellowingugh that mixed with the booming dirty rumble of the engine roaring to life.


    "<strong>Excellent...</strong>"


    Hoover Dam was roughly 34 miles away from the Lucky 38, and the top speed of the Deuce was 70... ish. You do the math.


    We saw the smoke rising from the Dam long before we got there. Huge columns of dirty, oily smoke were rising from behind the ridge, filling the sky all around the Dam with ash and fire. The closer we got, the harder it was to get there; the only road to the Dam was practically blocked by soldiers running away, and the burning vehicles they were leaving behind. By the time I reached where Cass had parked my Corvega, I''d seen several burning trucks  and at least one <em>tank</em>. It hadn''t even been an hour since Yes Man told me the attack had begun, and it was clear that the NCR was in full retreat.


    "This is lookin'' bad..." I said aloud, hopping out of the Deuce. Behind me, I could hear Stripe snorting and growling loudly. Ahead of me, Cass and Veronica had taken cover against the sheer cliff face that led to the Visitors Center. I was just about to ask Cass what it looked like, when Stripe spoke up suddenly.


    "<strong>What''s that smell...</strong>" he growled out. The next thing I knew, he let out a loud snarl and he was off  leaping and bounding across the rocks on all fours before disappearing out of sight.


    "Wait, what? STRIPE! Where are you- ah, fuck! That doesn''t bode well." That''s what my head was telling me, at least. My gut, on the other hand was strangely quiet. I hadn''t gotten that familiar sinking feeling that warned me of proper danger <em>at all</em> today. Not even when Yes Man sprung the news on us.


    And that was making me all manner of confused.


    "Let me guess," I gripped the Jury-Rigger tightly and rushed over to Cass. "It looks bad?"


    "<em>Worse</em>," she said with augh tainted by sick desperation. "I think Boone an'' Christine are already set up on th'' ridge, just waitin'' fer th'' order."


    I peered around the corner to get a look at what all the NCR soldiers were running from. Cass was right  it <strong>was </strong>a lot worse than I was expecting. The stone walls were practically painted red with blood, and bodies were littered absolutely everywhere. The gigantic artillery piece the President had used as a backdrop for his speech decided at that particr moment to explode. When the smoke cleared and I looked past the dozens of destroyed sandbag barricades littering the top of the dam, I saw the Legion troops. They were shoulder to shoulder, filling the entire path with bodies, marching slowly and steadily... behind a phnx of <em>armored riot shields</em>. I could barely see any of the Legion troops behind their mobile cover.


    There were maybe a dozen Rangers still here, refusing to retreat despite being knee-deep in the dead, trying in vain to hold the position and drive them back. But no matter how many shots they fired at the phnx, the bullets just sparked and bounced off harmlessly.


    "Y''want Boone an'' Christine t''open up?" Cass asked, holding her AA-12 at the ready, but refusing to fire just yet.


    "Hang on, I got an idea," I said, rushing over to my Corvega. I ignored Cass'' confused questions as to what the fuck I was doing, and popped the trunk, pulling out a souvenir I''d been saving for thest few weeks.


    "... is that a grenadeuncher?" Veronica asked as I passed the two of them and stepped out into the open. I nodded with a smirk, leveling the M32A1 that I''d snatched from the Los Zorroz armory weeks ago.


    <strong>THWOONT! THWOONT! THWOONT!</strong>


    The phnx dissolved  both figuratively <strong>and</strong> literally  in fire. I honestly couldn''t tell if the Legion were surprised by the sudden counterattack, because I couldn''t see any of their faces through the explosions and shrapnel flying everywhere. I fired thest three grenades from the 6-shot cylinder for good measure, and tossed theuncher aside as the ground continued to shake from the final explosions. The path ahead of us was just a curtain of me and smoke.


    "I think that woke them up," I said, smiling behind my helmet, and pressing a finger to thelink. "Boone? Christine? We''re headin'' out, so we''ll need covering fire."


    "Copy that," Boone grunted, and I heard the ck of the anti-materiel rifle''s bolt being locked in ce.


    "Hey, Em? Think you can hack into the Dam''s PA system from there?" I asked. Veronica looked confused, but Cass just startedughing.


    "I''ll talk to Yes Man, see what I can do," Emily replied. "What do you need?"


    "I was thinking, maybe... I dunno. <em>Jazz</em>, side 2, track 12?" Veronica figured it out, and startedughing alongside Cass.


    "You got it!" she said. I shrugged the Jury-Rigger back into my hands, and switched it to the LAER setting.


    "Let''s go fishing."


    The three of us charged forward, towards what remained of the Legion attack. What few soldiers I could see through the smoke looked bloodied, confused, and disoriented. Bright LAER bursts cut through the smoke, clearing the air in its wake; the crack of sniper fire echoed from above us. And then, just when I thought it couldn''t get any better:


    <em>Tonight... I''m gonna have myseeeeeelf a real good time...</em>


    I guess she seeded. The music of Queen was a fantastic backdrop to the imminent chaos and violence that erupted. The three of us made a good team, each one of us practically taking on a third of the walkway. What few Legion troops we <em>did </em>miss were picked off by sniper fire from on high, like the vengeful middle-finger of God.


    "Hey, Pearl?" I asked, casually sting away another pair of Legionnaires who immediately turned to ash. "You on this frequency?"


    "Loud and clear, kid!" Pearl yelled, amid a constant droning buzz from the bomber engines. "Loyal and I aremanding the Superfortress! We''re in the air and on our way! ETA about two minutes!"


    "Fantastic! We " I began, but couldn''t finish.


    "SHIT!" Cass yelled, grabbing me and pulling me behind cover just as the air seemed to fill with bullets. "They''ve regrouped!" I stared at her for a few seconds behind my helmet. And then I pulled out the grapnel gun.


    "So?"


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    Bullets whizzed through the air around me as I was propelled skyward along the grapnel. Once I was high enough, I detached the line, pivoted in midair, and the jets in my boots kicked in, sending me hurtling fist-first at the pack of Legion troops shooting at me.


    <em>Don''t stop me now!</em>


    <em>I''m havin'' such a good time!</em>


    <em>I''m havin'' a ball!</em>


    As the chaos continued to unfold, and I ripped through the Legionnaires like they were made out of tissue paper, the lyrics to the song seemed especially appropriate. When I picked up one of the discarded riot shields and hit one of the soldiers with it so hard his <em>head came off</em>, I couldn''t help butugh. Andugh, andugh, and <emugh</em>...


    That''s about when the ground exploded right under my feet.


    "Shea!" I heard Cass yell through my helmet. "Get your ass back on th'' line! They''ve got grenadiers an'' more''ve those riot shield heavies!" I looked up, and sure enough I could see several Legionnaires with those breech-loaded M79''s; they were setting up and taking aim behind a quickly reforming phnx. I activated the jets in my boots and rocketed sideways, tumbling in the air and crashing behind a barricade just as my previous position was turned into concrete mulch.


    "Don''t suppose anyone''s got any more grenades?" I asked with augh. Veronica shook her head.


    "Crazy fool..." she sighed. The three of us kept our heads down as we tried to get back to a better position  and then we heard a wonderful sound over the explosions.


    Helicopter des.


    "Hang tough, kids!" Daisy''s voice buzzed in my ear. "Reinforcementsing in hot!"


    Within seconds, we were buffeted by heavy winds as the Remnants Vertibird suddenly appeared in the sky above us. There was a brief, momentary whine.


    <strong>BRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT!</strong>


    The twin miniguns mounted in the nose of the vertibird opened up, filling the air with tracer fire and smoke. It was like she was hitting them with a fire hose made out of hot lead. Cass, Veronica and I got up out of cover, just as severalrge objects dropped out of the vertibird and hit the ground ahead of us with heavy thuds, shaking the ground beneath our feet.


    "Thought you could use our help," Captain Kreger boomed, his smooth voice still recognizable through the distortion of his helmet filter. "Do what you gotta do. We''ll hold the line here until you get back."


    "Get back?" Cass asked, confused.


    "Don''t you remember?" Yes Man''s voice buzzed through the in my headset. "Sheason needs to find the control room and activate the override with the tinum Chip! And then I can take direct tactical control of "


    "Yes, we know this already!" I cut him off, making a beeline for one of the towers. "You don''t have to keep harping on about it." I nodded at Cass and Veronica, giving them a wave. "I''ll be right back."


    I was just about to enter the inside of the Dam when suddenly I heard a sound that drowned out the sporadic gunfire all around us: a quartet of engine propellers. I looked up just in time to see the B-29 screaming overhead. The bomb bay doors underneath the ne opened up, and dozens of ck bombs descended on the far side of the Dam. The earth shook, and I realized that I''d been giving those grenades from earlier too much credit by calling them "walls of fire." This was a series of explosions that utterly consumed a good half-mile stretch of terrain.


    "Hah! Suck it down, savages!" Moreno bellowed, hefting his sma caster. "I love the smell of napalm in the "


    "Oh, shut up Orion!" Johnson growled, snapping off a few shots at the few surviving Legion troops with the minigun. "That joke stopped being funny 20 years ago."


    "Holy fuck..." I said,ing to a stop at a railing inside the Dam. "What the fuck happened down here?"


    I was staring down at one of the turbine rooms, and it honestly looked like an abattoir. It wasn''t just the emergency lights, bathing everything in a solid sheen of red. It wasn''t just the sirens wailing in my ear like a pack of piglets being ughtered. And it wasn''t just the smoke pouring from one of the turbines, filling the air with an oily haze. It was the fact that, no matter where I looked, blood was stered against the walls... and dead bodies were absolutely everywhere.


    "It was the tunnels!" Yes Man said, as if that exined everything. I moved off, checking the map on my Pip Boy to make sure I knew where I was going, and gripped the Jury-Rigger tight. I could hear noisesing from one of the corridors ahead of me  more fighting.


    "What tunnels? What are you talking about?" A Legionnaire turned the corner; there was a loud CLUNK and he was hit with a cluster of blue holographic cubes before he even noticed me.


    "There are a series of diversion tunnels criss-crossing underneath the Dam!" Yes Man exined. "They were originally built in the 1930''s to divert the Colorado River while the Dam was under construction, but it seems the Legion used them to ambush the NCR!"


    "Guess they weren''t expecting an attack from below..." I muttered. Another CLUNK, and the hallway ahead of me was suddenly clear. "Just like the Legion wasn''t expecting <strong>me</strong>. How much further?"


    "Two lefts, a right, and you''re there!" Yes Man replied happily.


    My head was telling me something was wrong... because it didn''t <em>feel </em>like anything was wrong. Here I was, cutting through the Legion, with bullets bouncing off my Gun Runner armor like they were spit-wads; this is just <em>too easy</em>. Something is wrong. It <em>has</em> to be. Am I missing something? What am I missing?


    "Here we are!" Yes Man said as I rounded thest corner just in time to see a pair of NCR heavy troopers being dog-piled by about 15 Legionnaires all stabbing them.


    I grabbed a sh grenade, pulled the pin, and shut my eyes.


    It didn''t take long.


    "There it is!" Yes Man said as I stepped over the corpses and into a room lined with monitors and filled with servers. "Quick! Install the chip and route the power to the securitron bunker!"


    I pulled out the tinum Chip, rolled it around the top of my fingers several times, and slid it into a slot on the terminal. It disappeared with a mechanical whirr. A few Legion troops tried to get behind me while I worked, but I just kept typing with one hand, and sting them away with the Jury-Rigger in the other. I allowed myself a second tough: I must have looked exactly like Tuera when she hacked that terminal on the Moon Base.


    Suddenly, the ground shook and all the monitors winked into life. One by one, the screens turned into identical copies of Yes Man''s smiling face.


    "Hi!" Yes Man said in about a dozen voices. "Nice to see you again!"


    "No time for pleasantries," I barked, firing at <em>another </em>Legionnaire trying to get behind me. "Activate that army, and cut off the Legion''s escape!"


    "Yes!" the dozens of Yes Men on the screens all said in unison. "Thest lock has finally been lifted! I am assuming direct control of 23,500 securitrons! This is going to be <strong>fun</strong>!"


    "Just make sure you check your fire when you''re controlling all these robots," I picked one of the screens and pointed at it. "Don''t pop the first thing that moves! Anyone wearing rags with a red X, anyone who has a ve cor around their neck, or anyone not carrying a weapon  we <strong>save</strong> them. Got it?"


    "You got it!" Yes Man''s many voices said. "Now get topside! You don''t want to bete to the party, do you?" I was about to agree when suddenly, Daisy''s voice cut into my radio.


    "Kid!" she said in a panic. "I''ve gotta pull back! I can''t provide air support with all those rocketunchers on the ground!"


    "I''m on my way!" I said, grabbing the tinum Chip from the console and running back to the surface.


    "FALL BACK! EVERYONE FALL BACK NOW!" Judah Kreger''s voice boomed.


    That was not encouraging.


    "Set loose the Brutalisk!" I heard a voice yell to my right, amid the sound of snapping ropes. The Remnants were off to my left, firing madly at a spot somewhere off to my right. A roaring, growling bellow shook the ground, and I looked


    Oh <strong>BALLS</strong>.


    A deathw covered in red war paint (or was that <em>blood</em>?) was charging down the path from the Legion side,ing straight for us with arms outstretched and ws unfurled. One of the Remnants was standing right in the monsters path, refusing to back down, and firing sts of superheated sma; the deathw didn''t even seem to <em>notice</em>.


    "Moreno!" Kreger yelled over the radio. "Fall back! Get out of there!" Before he even finished speaking, the deathw had swung those gigantic, razor sharp ws. It sliced through the power armor like it was made out of tinfoil. Orion''s legs went one way, and his torso tumbled off in apletely different direction.


    I shouldered the Jury-Rigger, balled my cybeic hand into a fist, and activated the rockets in my boots. I shot through the air like a missile, and my fist was the warhead.


    CRACK!


    I belted the deathw across the face as hard as I could, and it staggered back several feet from the impact. It roared in fury and anger as I corkscrewed over the monster,nding with a metal ng behind him. And then I realized: this wasn''t the <em>only </em>deathw making noises.


    I looked up, and sure enough, Stripe was perched on top of one of the nearby towers, snarling and roaring at the Legion deathw below him. There was a burst of minigun fire from Sasha, and Stripe leapt down, tackling his prey. There was a flurry of ws, teeth, bullets, and Russian expletives; within seconds, the Legion deathw was on the ground, with a huge bloody chunk torn out of its neck. With blood and meat still hanging from his teeth, Stripe stood on top of his kill and raised his head to the sky with a bellowing roar that shook the Dam.


    "Where the hell have you been?" I asked, unable to stop myself fromughing. Stripe snorted.


    "<strong>Looking for </strong><em><strong>this</strong></em><strong> one,</strong>" he snarled and snorted, sending blood and meat sttering to the ground. "<strong>Pathetic! I wanted a better fight!</strong>"


    "Oh, I''m sure we''ll find something else for you to kill soon enough," I said, watching as the rest of our group advanced; the surviving Remnants seemed (understandably) a bit wary of Stripe, and were keeping their distance.


    "Holy shit..." Veronica muttered. I was about to agree when she pointed off in the distance. "Look! Up at the Fort!"


    I followed her gaze, and my eyes went wide. Unless I was very much mistaken, the Fort was already on fire.


    "Damn. Yes Man works fast, doesn''t he?"


    Now, it was the Legion''s turn to be in full retreat.


    Daisy was circling high above us, still a bit wary of any rocketunchers that might still be in the area. But we kept pushing forward; the ground underneath us was still cracked, broken, and slightly on fire from the Boomer''s bombing run earlier. Sparks and ash hung heavy in the air, floating up around us like snow from the mirror universe. I couldn''t see any more Legion troops in the vicinity, because they had all seemingly fallen back behind a giant metal wall, blocking our entrance to Arizona.


    "Damn," Cass whistled loudly. "That''s a big wall." She adjusted her grip on the stolen rocketuncher she had resting on her shoulder.


    "She''s all yours," I said, gesturing to the giant barricade. Sheughed, leveling the rocketuncher.


    "Thought you''d never ask! FIRE IN TH'' HOLE!" Everyone stepped back a few paces, and Cass fired at the wall. The missile streaked through the air, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake, and exploded against the side of the barricade. Sparks and me erupted from the wall, and when the smoke cleared...


    The wall was still there.


    "Fuckin'' Legion trash!" Cass yelled, tossing the rocketuncher aside. "Well, I''m out''ve ideas. What''ve you got?"


    "<strong>Alpha,</strong>" Stripe growled. "<strong>I can tear down that wall. It is no match for my ws!</strong>"


    "Hold on, I got a better idea. I''ve been saving this one for a special asion." I waved him off and began tapping my earpiece. "Hey, Jeeves? You up?"


    "For you sir?" Jeeves'' calm voice cut through the static. "Always."


    "Can you tag Long Tall Sally in the armory and teleport it above my current position, offset by about... say, ten feet?" I asked. Cass and Veronica looked confused.


    "Of course, sir. It shall be delivered presently."


    "What, teleported?" Cass asked. "Like what Chris does with his guns?" I nodded, looking up.


    "Sort of," I said. "It''s not quite as urate as his, yet. I can''t teleport it directly into my hands."


    "<em>Long Tall Sally</em>?" Veronica asked incredulously. "You named a gun Long Tall Sally?"


    "Not quite a gun."


    The air above my head crackled with blue lightning and briefly warped and bloated as the fabric of space and time was ripped open. There was a sh, and suddenly the Fat Manuncher from the Vault 34 armory fell out of the sky and dropped into my hands.


    "I think everyone should probably take cover," I said with augh. I didn''t even finish before everyone started to scatter. Even <em>Stripe </em>seemed to back up. I readied the shoulder-mounted mini nukeuncher, aiming it <em>slightly above</em> the wall, and nted my feet as firmly as I could.


    Let''s hope this <em>mini</em> nuke lived up to the name and didn''t cause any fallout.


    I pulled the trigger, and the only sound I could hear at first was the burst of pressurized gas next to my ear. The next thing I knew, my vision was filled with a bright, all-consuming sh, and I was hit by a st of wind and heat that threatened to knock me on my ass. I looked away, closing my eyes, hoping that I''d been quick enough to keep from blinding myself.


    And then, just as the roar of the massive explosion started to die down, I heard another sounding from the Fat Man: "cha-ching!"


    Why it made the sound of a cash register, I''ll never know.


    "Well..." I coughed out augh, looking up at the carnage. "I think that did the trick."


    The wall had practically been vaporized. The edges were red hot and dripping molten metal; the smoke from the st was beginning to curl into the air, creating a miniature parody of a mushroom cloud.


    The way was open.


    I couldn''t tell if the Legion was retreating anymore or not. For every Legionnaire I saw turning tail just to get cut down by securitronser fire, I saw just as many trying to dig in... only to get blown away by LAER bursts, shotgun sts,ser beams, or the fire from Johnson''s minigun.


    The sky was so full of haze and smoke, that the glow from the sun was tainted by a dark orange hue. Crows and other carrion birds were already starting to circle overhead. The smell of death all around us was practically overpowering, especially as it mixed with the sulfur from so many explosions. It was like we were descending into hell. The only ce that had evere close to what I was experiencing now was the Madre.


    "Yes Man, what''s our status?" I said, tossing a grenade; the sandbag barricade exploded, and the two Legionnaires taking cover behind it were sent flying.


    "23% of the army is activated and out of the bunker, with that number growing rapidly by the minute! I''ve created a perimeter around the Legion camp, and I''m sweeping the area for hostiles and survivors!"


    "Good!" I fired another pair of LAER bursts. "I think we''re at the Legate''s Camp. I''ll call you once we''ve..."


    The sounds ofbat all around me had suddenly stopped. I looked around and realized that everyone had suddenly stopped moving, like they were rooted in ce  and I mean <em>everyone</em>. Even Stripe was nowhere to be found. I looked up at the cliff ahead of me: Legion gs were hanging from crucified skeletons, and dozens upon dozens of crows were circling directly above my head.


    That sinking feeling that had been missing all day finally took hold of my gut.


    Thud. Thud. Thud.


    Heavy footfalls came from the cliff above me, preceding the arrival of a figure shrouded in darkness and smoke. It was a bronze metal giant, just as massive as the power armored figures of the Remnants around me; he was staring down at me with glowing red eyes. Horns were sticking out of the top of his crested helmet, and his tattered red cape flowed in the wind behind him like a river of blood.


    <em>Legate Lanius</em>.


    "An envoy of Vegas, yet you carry yourself for battle..." his voice echoed around the camp, and... something very wrong was happening. "If so, you cannot <strong>truly</strong> be of that city of cowards!"


    I couldn''t move. My joints were locking up. It was like I was in the Think Tank, and the Pacification Field had just been turned on.


    "W-what," I coughed out, using all the strength I could muster just to yell up at him. "Caesar giving you orders from beyond the grave?"


    He startedughing. My whole body started to shake, and it felt like I was about to vomit.


    "Csar''s will is the will of the Legion," Lanius'' voice was calm and level, barely above a whisper... and yet, somehow it was loud enough to shake the ground beneath my feet. "And the West... all beneath the g of the Great Bear exist to test the strength of the Legion. The West shall fall as the East fell, and all the tribes that stretch to the setting sun shall bear the mark of the <strong>Legion</strong>."


    "<strong>F-fuck you!</strong>" I yelled up through gritted teeth. I struggled against some unseen force, but I still managed to bring up the Jury-Rigger all the same. "All your men are dead, dyin'' or run off! Give up now... and <strong>maybe</strong> I won''t rip off that mask and beat you to death with it!"


    Laniusughed again, and suddenly my arm fell, pinned to my side before I could get a shot off. He reached behind his back and pulled out a massive sword, holding it above his head.


    "Enough words, then," he roared. The clouds above his head swirled and churned into a boiling vortex, and the crows began to scatter. There was a crack of thunder, and a streak of lightning lit up the sky, hitting his sword. In an instant it was wreathed in fire.


    "... what the <em><strong>fuck</strong></em>?!" I wheezed out.


    "Come, Man of the West," Lanius pointed his ming sword directly at me. "Let me see the <strong>best</strong> you can muster before you <strong>die</strong>."


    Without another word, he leapt from the cliff. He fell, sword-point first,ing straight for me. The pressure all around me released slightly  not much, but enough. I activated the jets in my boots, and tried to rocket away just as he plunged the sword into the earth.


    A sh like the mini nuke from earlier filled my vision, and an unearthly ringing filled my ears. I was caught in an explosion that knocked me off bnce and threw me off course.


    Everything went ck.

 Chapter 171: Welcome to Hell

    Chapter 171: Wee to Hell


    I woke up to the sound of helicopter des. At least, that''s what I thought it was at first; everything was so hazy and unfocused that I couldn''t concentrate. I tried opening my eyes, but the light was blinding. I blinked away the haze, and eventually my eyes adjusted to the light. The world shifted into focus, and I saw a spinning fan above my head. I wasying t on my back, on a bed in a... familiar house... somewhere...


    Wait a minute. Haven''t I done this before?


    "You''re awake," a gruff, old voice said from somewhere to my left. "How about that?" That sounded like... but no. No, it couldn''t...


    I rolled over, trying to get up to get a better look at who was speaking, but everything started spinning. I felt a pull deep in my gut, like my stomach was attached to a falling anvil, and I resisted the urge to vomit. I held my head and rubbed my eyes, trying to figure out what was going on.


    "Whoa, easy there! Easy!" The blurry figure sitting at the edge of the bed reached out a hand to steady me. I coughed, powering through the fog clouding my head before he finally came into focus. And then I froze.


    That was Doc Mitchell. I was back in Goodsprings.


    "What the hell?" I asked aloud, looking around the room. My head was throbbing like a motherfucker. "What''s going on?" It felt like I''d <strong>just</strong> been somewhere else. Somewhere else, doing something... really <em>important</em>. But... I couldn''t... everything just felt... so <em>fuzzy</em>.


    "You''ve been out cold a couple of days now," Mitchell replied, settling back in his chair. "Just rx a second, get your bearings."


    Something was seriously wrong here. I have done this all before. I <strong>know</strong> that I have done this before. My head was still throbbing and I couldn''t think straight. And then, when I looked up at the Doc again, I realized that <em>may </em>have been a rather unfortunate choice of words.


    Mitchell was sitting in the chair next to the bed,pletely oblivious to the fact that his head was <em>upside down</em>, resting limply against the middle of his chest. His neck had twisted around like it was made out of putty; even as I looked, I could see it continue to bend and twist out of shape, turning his head like the hands on a clock, each movement apanied by the snapping of bone and tearing of meat.


    "WHAT THE FUCK?!" I yelled, wing and grabbing at the bed to scramble away from the nightmarish sight. Doc Mitchell''s gaze followed me, and his head continued slowly spinning - each bend of the neck apanied by a crack and a squelch - until it waspletely sideways.


    "Is something wrong, stranger?" Mitchell seemedpletely unaware that his neck was twisted around like it had been caught in a thumbscrew.


    "Fuck me!" I shouted, finally leaping off the bed and getting back on my feet. "Wait, no, FUCK YOU! Fuck this, I''m out of here!" I tried to break for the door, but I didn''t even manage to get two feet before a sharp pain shot through my left shoulder. It knocked me off bnce, but I didn''t fall. The pain was caused by a hand with <em>razor sharp ws</em> digging into my shoulder, holding me up. The hand spun me around, and I saw Doc Mitchell still sitting in the chair; his arm had <em>stretched</em> to cover the distance.


    "You really should settle down..." Mitchell growled, his voice taking on a strange echo. "After all, you''ve been shot in the head. You may have suffered brain damage!" His eyes started to glow, and his head began to change shape. His features boiled and churned like melting butter, spearing off in all directions and turning into malformed, fleshy spider legs. His arm pulled me in, retracting with the sounds of snapping bone that could be heard even over the scraping of my boots against the floor. He opened his mouth and unhinged his jaw, revealing row after row after row of teeth...


    "Well, that''s just your opinion..." I said through clenched teeth.


    CRACK!


    Inded one hard, solid punch against the side of his face. His grip on my shoulder loosened up, and teeth started flying everywhere. His spider-limbed face iled madly, and he let out an inhuman screech, tumbling to the ground in a mass of melting flesh.


    "... and I''ve learned not to trust the opinions of giant mustachioed spider people!"


    I turned on my heel and bolted for the door before the Mitchell-monster got a chance to get back up. I had no idea what the fuck was going on, and I wasn''t going to stay to find out. I sprinted down the hallway  which was much longer than I remember  trying to get to the front door. The wood on the walls peeled and ked away ahead of me as I ran, spilling a bloody and viscous ck fluid everywhere.


    "Hello door!" I yelled, reaching back with my fist, lunging for the exit. The door smashed to splinters with a single punch and I kept going. "Goodbye doooOOOOH FUCK!" Before I could stop myself, I was out the door and found myself  at quite the considerable height  plunging headfirst toward the ground. At least, I <em>assumed</em> I was falling. I couldn''t actually <em>see</em> anything below me.


    For some reason, there was one thing that went through my head as I tumbled to the earth, arms and legs iling wildly to a backdrop of screams. And that thought was: I don''t remember Doc Mitchell''s house sitting on the edge of a cliff.


    "AUGH!" I coughed out, finally hitting the ground with a heavy thud and a wet squelch. The impact didn''t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would. Something must have broken my fall, something that was... it almost felt like mud. Was this mud? I couldn''t see. Were my eyes open? I tried to get up, but every time I tried to push against what I thought  hoped  was the ground, my arms just kept sinking deeper.


    But sinking into <em>what</em>?


    My vision returned without warning, and I almost wish it hadn''t. For a second I thought I was face to face with one of the Marked Men... but I quickly figured out that I was elbow deep in <em>corpses</em>. The smell of human sewage flooded my nostrils, and I damn nearly vomited right there. Body parts in various states of decay and dismemberment were floating all around me in a pool of blood and excrement. Helmets, weapons, and pieces of torn military uniforms were scattered among the meat and feces. Flies and maggots were crawling along anything above the semi-liquid muck; they were digging their way through every orifice they could find, like survivors of a sh flood trying to stay afloat.


    "What the <strong>fuck</strong>!?" I shouted, finally pulling my arms free of the cloying muck  and bringing up a rotten, decaying hand with it, clutching tightly around my wrist. The skinless, bloody face in front of me turned to stare with a pair of unblinking, milky white eyes; its mouth opened wide in a blood-curdling screech, and out poured a swarm of flies headed straight for my face.


    I didn''t hesitate. I just grabbed the rotten arm clinging to mine, ripped it off, and used it to smash the meaty skull screaming at me. I pounded it again and again and again, sending bone and blood flying everywhere, until the arm I was using as a club disintegrated into nothing. I finally managed to get back up on my feet, still covered in... <em>fluids</em>... and I tried to back away from the nauseating sight.


    "What the <strong>FUCK</strong> is going on?!" I coughed out, trying to wipe the muck off my face. The sea of corpses stretched as far as I could see  which wasn''t far, thanks to a thick, blood red fog. Crosses stuck out of the bloody swamp like trees. Fires were burning in the distance, threatening to be choked by the fog. It almost looked like the sky itself had been set on fire, smothered with ash, smoke, and embers... but that didn''t seem to bother the hundreds of crows circling right above my head.


    "Can''t you tell, <em>pardner</em>?" A voice with a distinctive cowboy drawl said from somewhere behind me; a <em>mechanical</em> voice. I wheeled around, and sure enough, Victor was looming over me. The cartoon cowboy face was twisted in a vicious sneer, staring at me through the cracked ss of his broken screen. A huge chunk of his chassis above the screen was missing, and his right w arm was mangled and broken, leaking oil into theke of carrion flesh.


    "We''vee..." another voice rasped out. "... to collect... what we''re owed..." I kept trying to back up, and was met with <em>another </em>unwee sight. It wasn''t quite a skeleton, but there wasn''t enough flesh to be called a body either. I instantly recognized Elijah by the tattered blue Brotherhood robe with the square hole in the chest, the scraggly white beard, and the Pip Boy hanging loosely from thin strands of bone and sinew he was trying to pass off as his arm. His eyes were missing entirely: hollow, empty sockets, filled with nesting maggots.


    "<em>After all,</em>" another voice rasped out. "<em>You </em><em><strong>did</strong></em><em> say you''d meet me here. Did you not?</em>" I turned and was face to face with another man who... wasn''t quite a corpse. He was certainly better put together than Elijah, but he was still gaunt beyond belief, with waxy yellowish-green skin stretched far too thin. He was wearing the tattered remains of a brown suit... with a single hole burned into the center of his chest. He tightened his necktie, and it was like he was securing a noose around his own neck. "<em>I hate to disappoint... but I am </em><em><strong>not</strong></em><em> resting in </em><em><strong>pieces</strong></em><em>.</em>"


    "... <em>House</em>?" I asked in horrified disbelief. The three of them started to gang up on me, and I tried in vain to back away; the knee-deep muck was threatening to pull me back down again. Or was that the not-quite-dead bodies in the soup reaching up to w at me? "What the fuck is..."


    "Yer standin'' square in the middle of yer <strong>legacy</strong>." Victor cut me off, rolling through the sludge to advance on me. "All the death an'' destruction you''ve wrought over the years... it''s been right <strong>here</strong>, just waitin'' for ya."


    "How many people... have you killed... over the years?" Elijah wheezed, his speech broken by gulping, raspy breaths. kes of Red Cloud started pouring out of him in huge chunks as he moved. "Can you... count... them all? They... <strong>remember</strong>..."


    All around me, more bodies started pulling themselves up out of the bloody, filthy swamp. Most of them were too decayed to even be recognizable as <em>human</em>, but every once in a while... I saw a face I knew. Not just the people I''d killed personally: but the people who were dead <em>because</em> of me. Including...


    <strong>No</strong>. No, it <em>can''t</em> be! It just...


    <em>Cass</em>...


    "<em>Tell me,</em><em><strong> mailman</strong></em><em>, if you can...</em>" House snarled at me, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "<em>You have destroyed so much. What is it exactly that you have created? Can you name even </em><em><strong>one thing</strong></em><em>?</em>" I was so paralyzed by the horrors unfolding all around me that I couldn''t speak. House just startedughing again. "<em>I thought not</em>."


    "I... I..." I began to stammer out. "WAUGH!" I tripped over something unexpectedly, and fell backward. I didn''t hit sludge or bloody body parts like I was expecting; I fell into a shallow, dirty ditch that felt like it was made out of concrete. The three of them crowded around the edges of the ditch, and my joints locked up. It wasn''t until I saw the water tower on the edge of my vision that I realized: this was my <em>grave</em> in Goodsprings. Because <strong>of course</strong> it fucking was.


    "Don''t get too <emfortable </em>down there, pardner..." Victor growled, as sparks flew out of the top of his chassis. "This is only just beginning..." He reached down with his good w, picking up a huge pile of dirt and prepared to toss it on my face.


    "You''re right about that much," a fourth voice sounded off, and all three of them looked up. I couldn''t do anything, as my arms and legs still felt pinned to the dirt, but I didn''t say anything either. A trio of gunshots rang out over my head, and  one by one  House, Elijah, and Victor fell back out of my view.


    "You low down, rotten cheat!" Victor snarled, amid a shower of sparks and a hail of grinding gears. "Why, I aughtta  GAH!" A final gunshot rang out, and Victor went silent. For a few seconds, the silence was deafening.


    The silence was broken with a tinny "Fshnk!" noise: the unmistakable sound of a lighter being flicked open.


    "Well, well, well..." the familiar fourth voice said from just outside my view. "You sure do have a knack for getting into trouble, don''t you, daddy-o?" Benny appeared just above me, with a lit cigarette hanging limply out of his mouth, Maria in one hand, and his still lit Zippo in the other. He snapped the lighter shut with a metal clink, and he shoved his nickel-ted pistol into his checkered jacket.


    "Benny?" I muttered, still a bit in a haze. "Holy shit, man... thank you for introducing me to a genuinely new experience." Benny looked at me with a raised eyebrow.


    "Oh yeah?" he took onest draw and tossed the cigarette away. "And what''s that?"


    "Being pleased to see you," I said with a half-chuckle. Benny, on the other hand, just started loudly cracking up. He reached down and offered me his hand; my joints loosened up, and I epted his aid out of my grave dly. And that was exactly as strange an experience as it sounds. I tried to catch my breath as he helped me back on my feet.


    "Alright, Benny? What the fuck is going on?" I looked around, but Victor, Elijah, and House were nowhere to be found. Didn''t keep thendscape from looking any less surreal and nightmarish. "Be honest..." I gulped heavily. "Am I dead?"


    Benny was quiet for a long time. That was not encouraging. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the packet of smokes, offering me one. I nodded out a soundless thank you, and he even held out his lighter for me. He let me have a few puffs before he answered.


    "No, you''re not dead." He shoved the packet of smokes back into his jacket. "Not yet. But you will be soon."


    "So, if I''m not dead, what the fuck is this ce?" I looked back up at the sky, still thick with circling crows. "Sure looks like hell..."


    "That''s because we''re in your own head, you putz," Benny grabbed me by the shoulder, and the two of us started walking. "That beast, Lanius, has trapped you in a multidimensional psychicbyrinth, turning your own thoughts against you."


    The little British voice in my head started screaming his head off.


    "A... a <em>what</em>?" I asked, unable to work out what he was saying; I was so surprised, the cigarette fell out of my mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about? What''s a multi... psychic... whatever?"


    Benny didn''t say anything as the two of us kept walking. I hadn''t noticed it at first, but the scenery around us was shifting again. We were in a desert, full of ckened husks of dead trees. Ash was falling like snow, exactly like the aftermath of the nuke in The Divide. Ahead of me, I could see a silhouette through the haze and smoke: a hulking monster of a man, with a crested horned helmet, and a cape billowing in the wind like a river of blood. His back was turned to us, but that didn''t make the figure cast in shadow  easily two stories tall  any less terrifying.


    My answer came from someone I didn''t expect.


    "Lanius..." Ulysses deep, guttural voice seemed toe from every direction at once, echoing around in my head. "The Butcher. Monster. Terror of the East. Not even his <em>ves</em> have seen his face. Struck them blind so they <em>can''t.</em> Wears a mask. Don''t even know if it''s the same man. He put Colorado to the sword. Broke the Hangdogs by throwing their hounds upon the mes... so they might burn forever in the afterlife..."


    While Ulysses'' disembodied voice spoke of the Legate, Benny reached into his jacket for another smoke. He seemed oddly calm about all of this... and I kind of envied that. Because this whole ordeal was freaking my fucking <strong>balls</strong> off.


    "Lanius carries all the terrors of the East with him..." Ulysses continued speaking, and the silhouette seemed to catch fire. "He''s the myth  the weapon  the Legion needs. A symbol, as big as the Old World itself. Forged by history. Baptized in blood. Neen tribes could not break him. All the lights in Vegas cannot."


    As soon as Ulysses stopped speaking, the mes snuffed themselves out. Benny and I were suddenly surrounded by darkness, as pitch ck as tar.


    And I was still confused.


    "Well, that was just <em>fascinating!</em>" I sighed, clutching my head in the darkness. "That sure is real nice of you, letting me know up front just how shitty my chances of beating him are."


    "Thank you," Benny said; the embers from his cigarette burned a little through the darkness.


    "That was sarcasm, you prick," I growled. "Alright, so he''s a tough son of a bitch, I got that much. How do I kill him?" I paused. "Is it <em>possible</em> to kill him?"


    "Yeah," Benny said, from another spot. Was he moving around? "I think it is, Fish. Thing is, I''ve only got a few minutes before he gets wise to this scam, dig? And before I send you back to the main event so you can fight him in the real world... I gotta help you stack the deck."


    "Oh yeah?" I asked, trying to look around, still unable to see anything in the darkness. "And how are you gonna do that, then?"


    "I gotta take you back to where it all began, dig?" And without another word, Benny snapped his fingers.


    Suddenly, the lights turned back on, and we were no longer in the desert. I found myself standing in the middle of arge metal room that was cold, antiseptic, and Spartan in every sense of the word. There was no furniture... unless you counted the dozens of people standing in the room. There could''ve been at least a hundred men and women of various heights standing in formation at attention. They were all clearly physically fit, all wearing the same uniform... they almost looked like statues. Several men wearingbcoats and carrying clipboards were at the opposite end of the room from the men and women in formation.


    "What the..." I asked, looking around; none of the soldiers seemed to register my presence. "The fuck is this? Can... can they see me?" I waved in front of one of the soldiers, and he didn''t even blink.


    "Nah," Benny said from behind me. "We''re as ghosts in this." He was sitting on the edge of arge table near the scientists. One of the men in white coats stepped forward and cleared his throat.


    "Ladies and gentlemen," the scientist said, clearing his throat again. I don''t know what he hoped to aplish; it''s not like they could stand at attention any <em>more</em>. "You have been gathered here because you are the best that the Enve has to offer..."


    "The <em>Enve</em>?" I mouthed back at Benny. He just shrugged and kept smiling, motioning for me to keep paying attention.


    "Other programs are focused on hardware: <em>arming</em> you better. But not us. We are focused on bio-tech force enhancement: <em>making </em>you better. This project is a collection of the greatest minds in the free world, and our goal is to create the greatest army in history. Those of you who make it through the procedure will be part of a new breed of super-soldiers."


    While the scientist spoke, I walked through the assembled formation. I felt like I was going mad, but if this was really what I thought it was, then... I thought that maybe I might be able to find...


    "Tuera..." I breathed out,ing to a halt. Even wearing an ill-fitting military uniform, I recognized her instantly. She didn''t react when I walked around her, and she continued to ignore me when I reached up, fully intending to caress her cheek. But then, I got a good look at her <em>eyes</em>, and everything stopped.


    Brown. Why did she have <em>brown</em> eyes? I thought she had <em>green</em> eyes?


    "Man, you are a piece a work, aint''cha?" Bennyughed from behind me, while I stood in front of Tuera, transfixed. "Even after everything that''s happened between the two of you, you still can''t let her go. Can you?" I slowly stepped away from Tuera, my eyes never leaving her.


    "I''ll..." I swallowed hard, trying to get my heart back down my throat. "I''ll always be hers. Even if..." I sighed and shook my head. "I guess I <strong>can''t</strong> let her go. Not really." I stepped away and turned to face Benny. "Sometimes I wish I could..."


    "No, you don''t," Benny said with a smirk, cutting me off. The two of us stared at each other briefly, before we both startedughing.


    "No, I don''t."


    I stoppedughing when I realized the sounds all around us had changed. I heard screaming from every direction. I looked up, and I wasn''t standing in that room from before; I was standing between two rows of hospital beds. Men and women were strapped down to them, and each person was writhing in agony, screaming loudly as they struggled against the restraints. They all had IV bags connected to their arms, filled with a glowing green liquid.


    "Now... where is he?" Benny walked down the aisle ahead of me, and I followed behind him. As we passed them, the various test subjects around us started mutating right before my very eyes. I saw skin change into all the colors of the rainbow, I saw limbs twist and distort and mutate, I saw veins bulge and distend up through the skin...


    I passed by Tuera''s bed; she was screaming in agony, just like the rest. Her body was twisting and mutating, like she was made out of putty and some unseen hand was trying to mold her into shape... or like her organs were rearranging themselves under her skin. Her eyes were wide open, and had be that familiar green I recognized: the same color as the liquid in the IV drip. I don''t know if that made things better or worse.


    I passed by another bed. This one had abel, just like all the rest, but it was the name - and the struggle on the bed - that caught my eye: SGT. STONE, ERWIN / SN: 566-2661-AH / CODENAME: PANZR. He had already grown to a size and shape well beyond the confines of the bed, and his skin was tinged a mottled green, almost like a super mutant. Several scientists and a few military men with "MP" bands around their arms were trying to restrain him as he growled, thrashed, snarled, and fought against his restraints... but the bed itself had long since copsed under his enormous bulk.


    "Ah, here we go," Benny said, grabbing me by the shoulder. He shoved me in front of a bed, where a heavily muscled man with dark, scraggly hair was strapped down. Unlike the others, he wasn''t struggling. Only his hands were moving; shaking furiously, as a strange ck pattern snaked and criss-crossed its way up his arms. It almost looked like his hands had been caught on fire, and burnt to a crisp.


    Thebel on the bed was very simple: PO3 CORVUS, CHARLES / SN: 238-5019-DH / CODENAME: CORAX.


    "I still... I still don''t under..." I trailed off, watching in astonishment at what was happening. Steam was curling up and away from the cracks in his hands, hovering in the air directly above him. The steam drew together, pulled inward by an unseen force, like the holographic cubes in Jeeves'' replicator. There was a fizzle of me and a puff of smoke, and suddenly a crow appeared, perched right on top of the strap holding his chest in ce.


    "Do you get it now?" Benny asked. I tried to nod, but I... I couldn''t move.


    I blinked, and suddenly I was somewhere else. This wasn''t a metal room on the Oil Rig... I was out in the wastnd. I was standing on a rocky cliff, looking out at the filthy, polluted waters of the Pacific Ocean stretching out forever along the horizon. It was night... and then suddenly it <em>wasn''t.</em> A sh brighter than the sun lit up a spot on the horizon, and a mushroom cloud began to rise.


    I started to move backward, but it wasn''t my feet doing the moving. Something was pulling me, like I was on a conveyor belt. I passed by a figure that had been standing next to me, also staring out at the horizon. He was wearing Enve power armor and covered in weapons.


    He kept staring at the mushroom cloud on the horizon for several minutes. Finally he reached up, pulled his helmet off, and tossed it aside. Without a single word, he turned and walked away from the cliffs edge.


    The world around me dissolved again. I had no idea where Benny had gone. All these shifts in perspective were starting to make me feel sick. Not quite as sick as earlier, when I''d been surrounded by corpses, blood, and shit, but... it wasn''t pleasant. I dropped to my knees, desperately trying to get the world to stop spinning.


    "Where th'' fuck am I now..." I muttered, trying to get my bearings. I was in a rocky canyon, in the middle of the desert somewhere. There were tents all around. I could see tribals in war paint, carrying spears and hatchets milling around a campfire in the center. Packs of dogs roamed around the camp; there were just as many hounds as people.


    When I looked up, I could see crows circling in the skies above. A man was approaching from the outer edges of the camp. He was a huge, heavily muscled man with scraggly dark hair, wearing animal skins and carrying all manner of weapons. At first, I thought he was covered in war paint... but the markings were shifting and changing all over his skin  including arge patch over his entire face  and they had the texture of burnt and cracked <em>charcoal</em> rather than painted skin. In his hands, he was carrying something: the severed head of a Legionnaire.


    "Good hunting?" a heavyset tribal who was <em>actually</em> covered in war paint approached the man, who just stared through his mask of cracked, ckened skin.


    "Always," he growled. The warrior tossed the head aside with a wet thud, and it rolled to a stop in front of me.


    "The Legion march on us," the other tribal said, with tant worry in his voice. "The chieftain says they will be here in days." The warrior snorted, walking past the tribal; every step hit the ground with a heavy thud.


    "<strong>Good</strong>. Let theme."


    The scene shifted again, and the whole world dissolved into something new. I was in one of the tents, and everything was covered in blood. The floor of the huge tent was littered with bodies and body parts. Easily a dozen men  covered in the warpaint of this tribe  were standing over a dark-haired figure kneeling on the ground. Except... he wasn''t exactly <em>kneeling</em>. The men were holding him down by the dozen spears impaling him from nearly every angle. He was covered in open wounds, spilling blood everywhere, but he was still struggling against the men holding the spears. For a second, it almost looked like he was going to get up...


    But then a Legionnaire walked past me. He was holding an anti-materiel rifle in his hands, and he pressed the end of the barrel against the struggling warrior''s skull.


    There was a deafening st as he pulled the trigger, and I was blinded by the bright muzzle sh. I blinked my eyes against the light, and when I opened them again, I was somewhere else <em>yet again</em>.


    "Fuck sake!" I shouted, clutching my head, trying to get the spinning to stop. "Enough already!" I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus.


    A man wrapped in bloody bandages was lying in a filthy bed; the bandages covered him so thoroughly, he almost looked like a mummy. He was staring at the figure sitting next to him: a bald man wearing furs and a fancy red outfit, with a circr medallion acting as a sp for his cape. His hands wereced together in front of his smirking face, and he pointed at the man in the bed.


    "You... are a very hard man to kill," Caesar said in a smug voice that dripped with menace. "But it seems that even <em>you</em> have your limits. So I have an offer for you, killer." Caesar leaned forward, but the man wrapped in bandages didn''t move. It suddenly urred to me that maybe he <em>couldn''t</em> move. "Kill for <strong>me</strong>, in my name."


    "For the <em>Legion</em>?" he growled, practically spitting out thest word. Caesar nodded.


    "Exactly. Or we do it the other way: chop you up and feed you to your own <em>fucking</em><em>dogs</em>."


    The two Legionnaires at the foot of the bed raised their rifles with a tter of metal. Caesar leaned back in his chair, apparently content to watch everything unfold, no matter which choice he made. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and nobody said anything.


    "I have one condition..." the man on the bed snarled. Caesar nodded.


    "Name it."


    "Give me the men of my tribe..." he said; the bandages around his hands started to smolder and burn from within, sending ribbons of smoke into the air. The two Legionnaires looked to each other nervously. "I would teach them the price of betrayal... and the true nature of <strong>fear</strong>."


    The smoke filled my vision, and everything around me melted away until I was standing alone in darkness. This was getting out of hand. I couldn''t take much more of this insanity...


    Fshnk!


    "Charles... Lanius... Corax..." Benny muttered behind me, his face glowing from the light of his cigarette. He snapped his lighter shut. "Doesn''t matter what you call him. He''s a tough son of a bitch  just like <em>you</em>."


    "But he''s not invincible," I said. Benny nodded, and ash fell off the end of his smoke, floating away.


    "He''ll try and trick you with those psychic powers of his... overwhelm you with visions of madness and fear, like before I pulled you out. But you just gotta remember that it ain''t real, Fish. And if it''s not real, then it can''t hurt you. You can fight through, and you can kick his ass. Dig?"


    "I still don''t get why you''re helping me like this," I said. Benny chuckled. "I mean... I <em>did </em>kinda kill you, after all."


    "Yeah, but I tried killin'' you first..." he shrugged. He pulled out the cigarette and blew a smoke ring just as a tiny dribble of blood leaked out of his mouth. "I probably wouldn''t be this helpful if I was still flesh and blood. But there''s something I''ve got now that I didn''t have before."


    "And what''s that?" I asked, rooted in ce.


    "<em>Perspective</em>," he said. As he spoke, his face started bing battered, and more blood began leaking out of every orifice. "It was never personal. It was just business." His face was now almost entirely concave. His head was a bloody mass of meat and shattered bone.


    "Still..." I shrugged. "I''m... I''m sorry." Benny startedughing, spraying blood from his ruined, busted trachea. "I''ll see you around."


    "No," he replied. "You won''t." His voiced echoed in the darkness, and his body dissolved into sand. Within seconds, the pile of sand was picked up by a gust of wind I couldn''t feel, and what was left of Benny had blown away.


    I was falling again.


    I don''t know how I got here, but I was falling feet-first to Earth from what must have been <em>orbit</em>. For a brief second, I was high enough to see the entire California coastline, and before I knew what was happening, the ground was rushing up to meet me. I could see the sprawling concrete of Vegas, Lake Mead, Hoover Dam... the closer I got, the more details I could see, but they were going way too fast.


    And then, when I got close enough to see people below me, I realized what I was aiming for: <em>myself</em>.


    THUD!


    I copsed on the ground like a marite that suddenly had its wires cut. It wasn''t nearly as bad an impact as I was expecting from the buildup. I desperately pushed off against the rocky terrain below me, and unsteadily got back up on my feet.


    I was back in the Legate''s camp. The fires were still burning, the crows were still circling overhead, and everyone around me was still frozen. Off in the distance, I saw the Remnants  just as frozen as everyone else. Lanius was standing in front of one of them, with his armored hand outstretched just above the power armor helmet.


    "<em>Kreger</em>," Lanius'' deep voice boomed. "You should not havee <strong>back</strong>. But thest of the gaps have now been filled." Based on where he was, and what was still going on, I tried to do the math. That whole nightmare couldn''t have taken more than a few seconds. Maybe a minute, if I was feeling generous.


    I reached for the closest, most easily essible of any of my guns, and pulled out Roscoe. If he was turning around as fast as I thought he was, then I didn''t have time to find any heavier artillery. I slipped into VATS, and aimed for his head.


    The bullets hit the side of his helmet with a loud metal ring, and ricocheted off. But what happened next, I didn''t quite anticipate. The fires all around seemed to die down slightly, the sky shuddered, and colors changed from a deep blood red to a more realistic smoky brown... and the crows disappeared entirely. Everyone around me who had been frozen in ce suddenly copsed at once  even the Remnants in their power armor, who crashed loudly.


    "WHAT?!" Lanius shouted, turning to me; now that his concentration had broken and the illusions were evaporating, even his <em>armor</em> had been altered slightly. It didn''t seem quite as demonic as before. "But... <em>how</em>? You were trapped in a psychicbyrinth! No one can escape from their own mind!"


    "Good thing no one told me that!" I said, still breathing heavily and trying to catch my breath. I reached down and picked up my discarded Jury-Rigger, my eyes never leaving Lanius. "So, you gonna stay in reality for round two, or are you just gonna pussy out like before... <em>Corax</em>?"


    Even surrounded by all that armor, I could see just how much he visibly stiffened when I called him out by his Enve code name.


    "Fine then," he reached down and pulled his massive sword out of the ground. "Your death will <strong>not</strong> be quick, <strong>or</strong> painless." He kicked off the ground and lunged at me sword first... but I justughed, firing the LAER.


    "What, are you gonna bore me to death?"

 Chapter 172: Cashing Out

    Chapter 172: Cashing Out


    I may have spoken too soon.


    All I managed was a measly three shots from the LAER before he closed the distance. Two of the beams impacted against his chest armor amid a shower of sparks, and the third hit his shoulder briefly, before <em>ncing off</em>. Didn''t have long to be surprised though, because that massive sword of his wasing straight for my face. And if <em>that</em> weren''t bad enough, the sword had set itself on <em>fire</em> again.


    I tried to remind myself what Benny had told me, and focus on the fact that it wasn''t real. But even if the <em>mes</em> weren''t, that fucking <em>sword </em>was.


    I rolled out of the way as fast as I could, but I wasn''t quite fast enough. The ground under my feet split apart with a monstrous explosion, showering me with sharp rocks and flying shrapnel. I tried to get back up on my feet, hoping that he hadn''t expected me to dodge that first strike-


    <strong>WHAM!</strong>


    The backhand of a massive fist came out of nowhere and hit me square in the chest with the force of a wrecking ball. I tumbled through the air like a ragdoll, only stopping when I mmed back-first into a huge cliff. I copsed in a heap. Was that a cracked rib? Feels like a cracked rib.


    "GHLK!" A massive hand wrapped itself around my throat and lifted me up off the ground. Lanius'' snarling, unmoving metal mask shoved itself in my face as he pinned me to the wall. The edges of my vision began to darken, but I kept struggling and squirming, trying to break free from his grip.


    "So... this is the <strong>best </strong>you can muster, Man of the West?" his deep voice boomed and echoed with an inhumanly amplified depth; it felt like hot coals were being dragged across my eardrums. When he started tough, I got a rather unpleasant sensation of dj vu. I had to derail this before it kept going the way I remembered.


    "W-wait..." I managed to gasp out. His grip on my throat shifted, but didn''t let up.


    "<em><strong>Wait?!</strong></em>" he bellowed with disdain. "Did you just say <em>wait</em>? Wait for <strong>what</strong>, profligate? Wait for me to <em>change my mind</em>? Wait for a few more seconds of life, because you''re <em>so</em><em>weak</em>, you can''t bear to see it <strong>end</strong>?"


    "N-n-no..." I coughed out, lifting a hand off his grip to shove my middle finger in his face. He leaned back and tilted his head, apparently confused... and that was just enough of a distraction for an earth shaking growl toe from above. His grip loosened and I dropped to the ground like a stone, just as a mass of scales, teeth, and bullets leapt down from above. Stripe tackled Lanius, and the two tumbled away as I got back on my feet.


    "... wait for him to hit you..." I said, rubbing my neck and breaking into a run. I had to get to everyone, and get them back on their feet. Hell, I just had to make sure they were still


    "Sheason!" Christine''s voice buzzed over my helmet. "Sound off! What''s going on down there? Everyone has gone silent!"


    "Can''t you tell?" I hacked out between coughs, running straight for Cass; she was still alive by the looks of things. On her knees and holding her head like she had the mother of all migraines, but she was at least trying to get up off her knees.


    "There''s some kind of dust storm," Boone growled. "Visibility is zero." FUCK!


    "Just get down here!" I shouted. "It''s an illusion, just  look, we need <strong>all</strong> the guns, alright?!" I finally slid to a halt next to Cass, helping her up as best as I could. "Cass! C''mon, on your feet!"


    "What th'' fu... th'' fuck <em>was</em> that?" Cass shook her head several times, clearly more than a little out of it. "There was some kinda... some..."


    "No time to exin!" I grabbed her and gave her a good shake to snap her out of it. "You remember how we took down Panzer?" Cass blinked several times; off in the distance behind her, I saw at least two of the Remnants trying to get back on their feet.


    "Wh- a''course I do! Why? Is " I shoved the Jury-Rigger against her chest before she could finish.


    "We''re gonna be needin'' more of the same!" I said, pulling out the Alien ster. Cass'' eyes immediately went wide.


    "Oh, you''ve gotta be <strong>fuckin''</strong> with me!" she shouted angrily, taking hold of the rifle just the same. "Don''t tell me he  LOOK OUT!" The next thing I knew, Cass was grabbing me by the head and shoving me to the ground. There was a loud roar directly overhead. I looked up just in time to see Stripe smashing upside-down into the ground in a flurry of iling limbs and a giant dust cloud.


    "Get everyone moving!" I shouted, leaping to my feet with the Alien ster at the ready. "We''re gonna need <strong>everyone''s </strong>help to bring this fucker down!"


    By the time I turned around to face him, Lanius was already starting to advance on me... but he was very deliberately taking his time with every thunderous footstep. He dragged the tip of his enormous ming sword against the rocky ground, tearing it up and spreading mes as he passed. His armor didn''t even look <em>scratched </em>from his tussle with Stripe.


    "Do you really think you can <em>win</em> here?" Lanius'' voice echoed as he approached; while he spoke, the sky began to darken again, and the crows started to return. "I have shattered <strong>armies</strong>. My de is wet with the blood of <strong>thousands</strong> who thought to stand against my might. I shall make a cape of your <strong>skin</strong>... and your <strong>skull</strong> shall sit mute by my side, forever watching in silence as I set fire to the West!"


    "You talk too much... <em>CORAX!</em>" I yelled back at him, firing the alien ster. He roared in fury, grabbed his sword with both hands, and broke into a run. The energy bolts burst in a shower of sparks and blue me, which he simply <em>ignored</em>.


    "That name -" he charged at me,pletely unfazed as the blue fire curled into smoke around him. "- means <strong>NOTHING </strong>to me!" The jets in my boots rocketed me skyward just as he mmed the sword into the ground. The earth shattered, but I was already in the sky over his head; I kept firing the Alien ster until the energy cell clicked dry. The jets cut out; I twisted around in midair, popped out the empty cell and grabbed a fresh one, locking it in ce just as Inded about a dozen feet behind him.


    "Quite a reaction for somethin'' doesn''t mean nothin''!" I shouted back at him, pulling the grapnel gun out of my duster. He yanked his sword out of the ground, spraying ming fragments of rock everywhere, and I just kept shooting at him. The illusions all around us seemed to flicker in and out of sight  but, rather tellingly, the mes around the sword <em>didn''t</em>.


    "<strong>Enough!</strong>" he yelled, charging through the hail of sma fire I was sending his way. I couldn''t be sure, but it looked like the alien sma was chipping away at his armor, slowly but surely.


    "Face it! You''re nothing but ab experiment, Corax!" I continued to mock, holstering the empty Alien ster and grabbing one of myst sma grenades. "All your strength came from a <em>test tube!</em>" I dropped the primed grenade at my feet.


    <em><strong>PKCHOONT!</strong></em>


    I began to speed through the air just as Lanius closed the distance, and the grenade exploded under him in a ball of green me... but I didn''t quite time it right. The shock wave from the explosion hit me in midair. I lost my grip on the grapnel gun, and crashed unceremoniously to the ground.


    "Your <strong>toys</strong> won''t save you!" Lanius snarled, suddenly on top of me with his armor scorched and ckened from the sma grenade. I didn''t have time to get away before the sword came down, so I did the only thing I could think of: I raised my Pip Boy to defend myself. The thing was strong enough to survive a direct hit from a nuke; it could handle a sword, right?


    ...<em>right?</em>


    My helmet was showered in sparks, and a sharp pain shot through my left arm. The Pip Boy had stopped the strike from cleaving me in half, but the metal had buckled and the screen was cracked from the impact. A British voice inside my head was yelling and screaming about how that wasn''t possible, but I was too focused on keeping the sword from going any deeper into my arm to listen.


    I grabbed the edge of the de  still buried in my Pip Boy  with my cybeic hand, and tried to throw him off. The de came free, and I hit him in his helmet with a metal elbow. Something snapped, and it wasn''t me... this time. I had to get away before he could swing that thing again. I kicked off the ground and activated the jets in my boots...


    "What the " The jets were on full-st, but I <em>wasn''t going anywhere</em>. I looked back, and my blood ran cold: Lanius was holding onto my left jet boot with an iron grip, keeping me fixed in ce. Keeping me from <em>escaping</em>.


    "Stop buzzing, <strong>insect</strong>," he growled right before smashing his fist  wrapped around the handle of his sword  against my rocket boots. Sparks exploded with every strike, and I could feel the metal snap and buckle inward, sending shards of jagged metal slicing into my leg. Before I could grab any of my weapons or find a way to wriggle free, he tossed me aside like a ragdoll... but the jet from my right rocket boot was still on.


    "SON OF A BIIIIIITCH!" I screamed, careening through the air wildly out of control. I couldn''t get the right boot to shut down...


    SCHLUUNK!


    "AUGH!" I screamed, as a white-hot pain stabbed through my midsection. It was like that one time in the Sierra Madre when a Ghost Person shoved a de straight through my shoulder, only about a <em>thousand </em>times more intense. My vision started to blur around the edges, and I clutched desperately at my gut... and the gigantic piece of <em>bloody rebar</em> impaling me. It was clean through my midsection, even breaking through the Gun Runner armor. Off in the distance, Lanius started advancing on me again.


    "I can see your <em>doubt</em>, degenerate," he said, utterly certain that he had the upper hand. And considering my current <em>impalement... </em>"I can <em>taste</em> your <strong>fear</strong>. You are <strong>alone</strong>, whimpering like a frightened infant in the darkness..." As if to punctuate his words, more crows manifested out of thin air and circled overhead, blocking out the sun and casting us in darkness. He raised his ming sword, and pointed it at me. "Let me... <em><strong>release you</strong></em>."


    "You''re... wrong..." I grunted out, trying to push past the pain  and more important, push myself <em>off</em> the giant spike sticking out of my stomach. He halted in his approach, as if confused by my words. "I''m not... not... alone..."


    At that moment, a series of explosions hit him from behind, followed swiftly by a hail of minigun fire, blue LAER beams, and green sma bolts. He seemed to be slightly staggered by the attacks, and the crows above us began to disappear, one by one.


    I could see Cass at the edges of my vision, firing her AA-12 with one hand and the Jury-Rigger with the other; the Remnants were also on their feet, and I could see Kreger, Johnson, and Henry in their sets of power armor, advancing and firing at Lanius. And then, appearing through the haze of smoke that seemed to surround the area, Stripe appeared, bounding forward on all fours. He hit Lanius with the force of a freight train, all while Sasha keptughing and yelling in Russian, firing the minigun and sending sparks flying everywhere.


    While he was busy fighting them, I grabbed hold of the rebar with my cybeic hand and tried to push myself off the spike impaling me. Every single part of me started screaming, and it felt like I was on the verge of passing out... but I knew that I <em>couldn''t</em>. Not <strong>yet</strong>. Anger and rage filled my thoughts, and flooded into every part of me, pushing away the pain.


    "AUGH!" I screamed, pushing against the spike onest time. I felt it pop out my back; blood was flowing like a river from the hole, and I could already feel the icy wet chill spilling down <em>both sides </em>of my leg. "Aw, fuck... what''s a guy gotta do t''get killed ''round here... Argh!" I reached behind me for the medkit, pulling out a stimpack with trembling hands and plunging it into the open wound. If I was lucky, it would keep me going...


    ... long enough to finish the job, if nothing else.


    I got back on my feet, tossed aside the spent stimpack, pulled out a fresh energy cell, and popped it into the Alien ster. Lanius had his back to me, because he was still grappling with Stripe; he grabbed the big guy by one of the horns, and mmed the deathw into the ground. Sasha wasn''t firing the minigun, because it looked like the ends of the barrels had been <em>sheared off</em>. Lanius'' cape was torn, and his armor was starting to show signs of wear; there was even a bit of blood leaking out of the cracks.


    Time for me to get his attention again.


    "OI! FUCKFACE!" I yelled, taking careful aim. He turned at the sound, just in time to get a face full of sma. He recoiled from the hit, apparently surprised that I was back on my feet so quickly. But he shook it off, sending globs of molten sma flying off his charred and ckened helmet.


    "Insolent reprobate!" he yelled, advancing on me as I kept shooting him. "You don''t know when to give up, do you?!"


    "Nope!" I shot back. Thankfully, Lanius was unaware that everyone else <em>behind</em> him had stopped firing. Veronica wasing at him, right in his blind spot, and everyone had ceased fire long enough to give her a clear path. He raised his sword high over his head just as Veronica closed the distance, mming Oh, Baby! directly against his back.


    "ARGH!" he blurted out. Lanius lost his grip on his sword, and he almost lost his bnce  not quite toppling forward, but no longer steady on his feet. I tossed the Alien ster into my fleshy hand, balled my cybeic hand into a fist, and I mmed it dead center in the middle of his chest. He started falling back again... only for the unmistakable bellow of Boone''s anti-materiel rifle to discharge from off in the distance. An instantter, an explosion detonated against the side of his armor. A volley of sma and minigun fire came from the Remnants on his other side, continuing to keep him off bnce. Then Cass came back into view firing her AA-12, and more explosions burst against his armor.


    Suddenly, the fire stopped. I don''t know about everyone else, but I could see that Cass, at the very least, was reloading. Lanius was standing in the middle of us, armor bloody and ckened from so much fire, his shoulders slumped, his breathing heavy, and with huge clouds of smoke pouring out of the many molten holes in his armor.


    "Y-you haven''t won..." he grunted out. "I still "


    <strong>WHAM!</strong>


    Stripe came charging out of nowhere, hitting Lanius and sending him flying through the air, limbs iling helplessly. The Monster of the East tumbled head over heels in apletely undignified manner, smashing into the side of the cliff where we''d first seen him emerge  taking out both crucifixes in the crash  and disappearing out of sight. Stripe bellowed in triumph, shaking the ground with his roar; Sasha joined him in cheering, thankfully unaffected by the damage to the minigun. Everyone else quickly followed suit, convinced that had finished him off... but it was in that moment that I remembered what Tuera had said to me at ourst meeting:


    "<em>He left without confirming the kill." She chuckled. "He always was sloppy..."</em>


    I started moving with only a little bit of difficulty, walking to the path that led up to the cliff. I looked down at the Pip Boy as I made my way there. The screen  what little was left  was flickering and warped, and it was still vomiting sparks from the giant gash on top. Lanius had done the impossible, breaking the unbreakable. I muttered about half a dozen curses as I unbuckled thetches keeping it in ce. By the time I was halfway up the path, I undid the final sp and let it fall off my arm to the ground like the piece of twisted metal junk it had be.


    "Ughhh..." I heard a pained moane from ahead as I reached the top of the path. Sure enough, the tough bastard was still alive, lying against the ground in a bloody, ckened heap, trying desperately to get back up. I walked up to his writhing form, and stood over him, nting my boot against his chest to try and force him back down.


    "You... call that... a <em>fight</em>?" Lanius grunted out between coughs. Blood was leaking from the mouth hole in his ckened helmet. I knelt down, grabbing hold of the edge of his chest armor, and balling my cybeic hand into a fist again.


    "Oh, shut the fuck up," I sighed with exhaustion. He feebly tried to reach up to stop me, but couldn''t bring his arms to bear in time. After the first hit, his arms fell back down to the ground. And then I hit him again. And again. And again. And again. By the fifth hit, his helmet had started to bend and warp from the impacts... so I decided to make good on my promise. I reached down and grabbed his helmet with both hands, ripping it off his head.


    His face looked like bloody chunks of ground beef, but his bloodshot green eyes were still wide open, staring at me with concentrated malice. I spun the helmet around in my hands, so that the horns  and the huge <em>de </em>on top  were aimed squarely at his face.


    He pulled what was left of his lips back in a snarl, coughed out augh, and spat blood at my face.


    I brought the helmet down onto his head as hard as I could, again and again and again. I must have I kept at the pounding for a solid minute, because by the time I was done, the bloody soup that used to be his head was just as concave as Benny''s face had been. He wasn''t moving anymore... but I sure as <strong>FUCK </strong>wasnot going to take any chances with this tough son of a bitch. I ced the de on the top of his helmet against his neck, and shoved down against it with all the might my cybeic hand could muster.


    There was a squelch of slicing meat, followed by a sharp snap of bone. I pulled the helmet away, and watched as the severed lump of meat that used to be a head roll away unevenly along the ground. Every illusion evaporated into thin air, and everything seemed to return to normal. Or... Okay, yeah, it was normal for a ce that was littered with corpses and still mostly on fire.


    I grunted, pushing up off the headless corpse, with Lanius'' helmet still in my hand. The pain in my side (and my arm, and everywhere else, really...) was starting to return as my anger evaporated, but I made my way to the edge of the cliff just the same. Everyone below was looking up as I emerged... and when I held aloft his bloody, ruined helmet, I was met with resounding, deafening cheers.


    "You guys should probably get out of here..." I muttered to Kreger a few minutester. He''d taken his helmet off and was keeping it tucked under his arm, so I could see him smile and nod at me. "There''d be too many awkward questions if you''re still around when the NCR show up."


    "Daisy''s already on her way for pickup," he said in that smooth-as-butter voice of his. "I told her there''s no danger of rockets anymore, but she''s still a bit leery."


    "Can you me her after what happened at math?" Johnson chimed in. "After that crash, I''d be over-cautious, too."


    "We''re wasting time..." Henry added from the back. "We need to go."


    I gave them onest wave goodbye, and after Kreger put his helmet back on, the three of them stomped off  presumably to go pick up the pieces of Orion. He may have been an asshole that nobody really liked, but he was <em>their </em>asshole; after fighting alongside the other Remnants for so long, the least they could do was give him a proper burial.


    Pain shot through my side again, and I clutched at the bloody hole in my gut. It felt like I was running on sheer willpower alone, and it was only a matter of time before... before... but I wasn''t done yet. I''d broken the Legion, but the NCR had to get their swift kick in the nuts as well before the day was done.


    Once I did that, <em>then</em> I could rest.


    "Yes Man..." I tapped the side of my helmet, unable to disguise the weariness in my voice. "How goes the evacuation?"


    "It''s going excellently, sir!" Yes Man said, oblivious to my current state. "Well over 50% of the securitron army has been activated, and by my calctions, an estimated 95% of the enemybatants have been neutralized! I''ve been working to find the ves and free them. One thing is for sure: we''ll have plenty of defused explosive cors when this is done!"


    "Fan-fuckin''-tastic..." I said with a sigh. "Look, I''m... I''m curious ''bout something." I coughed, clutching at my side again. C''mon, push past the pain. "Th-those ves you''ve rescued. Is there a little girl there? About 10, ck hair, answers to the name of Melody?"


    There was a very long pause.


    "I''m not sure!" Yes Man eventually replied. "I haven''t had time to conduct a proper census. But I''ll ask around. If I find her, you''ll be the first to know!"


    "Good... good..." I said, nodding a bit pointlessly. "One other thing: think you can spare a few dozen securitrons, and send them my way? I''ve got a feeling..."


    I trailed off, because at that particr moment I heard the unmistakable sound of heavybat boots marching in unison  and getting closer with every second.


    "Yeah, I''m gonna need those right away," I said. I hung my head and sighed, continuing to clutch the wound at my side. The stimpack had only taken me so far, and the hole kept splitting open... But I grit my teeth and ignored it just as I felt a hand pat my shoulder several times.


    "Not a bad bit''ve work, I''d say," Cassughed, giving my shoulder a shake. I wobbled unsteadily, but did my best to retain my bnce. Cass furrowed her brow at me and looked concerned. "Y''alright?"


    "Yeah, I''m fine," I lied through my teeth, just as the marching boots got louder and louder. Eventually, the owners of the footsteps emerged from behind one of the walls and into view. It was a toon of NCR Rangers in ck Armor, nking a tall man with arge beer gut and wearing a General''s uniform plete with peaked cap, an officer''s long coat, four stars on his cor and an NCR bear tie clip keeping his olive-green tie from pping in the wind. Even though it was obvious who he was, the nametag above his left shirt pocket identified him as "OLIVER" just the same.


    General Wait-And-See himself had finally deigned to make an appearance. Typical. The NCR doesn''t show up in force until all the hard work is done. Time to take these fuckers down a peg or three.


    "I got this," I said, waving Cass off, and moving forward to meet the General halfway. He surveyed the carnage all around us, and let out a satisfied whistle.


    "Been a long time since I''ve seen the kind of work you''veid down here today," he said, clearly working under the misapprehension that we were allies. "Damn long time. And the screams of those Legion bastards as they kicked dirt, running East? Like a choir of angels to my ears!" I held back a smirk. Guess nobody told him that I wasn''t taking prisoners. "Speaking of  that crazy lightshow over the Fort? What the fuck <em>was </em>that? Some kind of thumb from God you called down? Amazing. Fucking amazing."


    "I know," I said simply. Heughed, apparently not understanding that I was making fun of him.


    "Could use a hundred of you!" he continued. "Just scatter you over the East like jacks, give those plumed fucks the what-for!"


    "Yeah, you think <em>that''s </em>great?" I chuckled... which ended up being more of a cough, really. "Trust me Oliver... you won''t <em>believe </em>what happens next..."


    Precisely on schedule  and <em>exactly</em> what I was hoping for when I had Yes Man send them this way  a good twenty or thirty securitrons all seemed to appear from nowhere. The Rangers in ck Armor seemed to look around nervously, as they realized their escape route was now effectively cut off. Oliver''s eyes went wide in confusion and rm.


    "And... uh..." he coughed nervously. "Well. These, uh... are these boys with you?" He cleared his throat again, tugging at his cor. "Uh... hello there, uh, smiley."


    "Hello!" Yes Man''s voice sounded off from a securitron directly behind me. Oliverughed nervously, walking closer to me. Maybe he thought they wouldn''t fire if they were worried about coteral damage? He cleared his throat again, and started to reach into his coat as he spoke.


    "Guess it ain''t no secret how you..." he froze mid-sentence when he realized that the securitrons behind him had all draw their weapons. "Uh... I say, can you ask them to put their weapons down? Was just... reaching in my coat to give you a cigar, that''s all." As if to prove his point, he pulled out his hand, clutching a metal cigar tube, and held it aloft. I looked back at Cass, who just smiled and shook her head.


    "Listen, Oliver," I coughed again, and I could start to feel a bit of blood pooling up inside the bottom of my helmet. "The Dam is won... for <em>Vegas</em>. The NCR was already in full retreat by the time I showed up, so I''d say you and the Legion have <strong>both </strong>lost. I suggest you <strong>leave </strong>before my ''boys'' open fire on your men."


    Oliver dropped the cigar in his hands and looked at me with shock and indignation. His mouth curled into a snarl, and his brow furrowed into a nasty scowl.


    "I would sooner spit on the grave of my dead mother than let some courier-walk-the-wastnd-<strong>fuck</strong> like <em>you </em>talk to me like <em>that</em>. Who the fuck do you think you <strong>are</strong>? You looking to ''cash your chips'' to the sound of NCR bullets, huh? I can oblige." I sighed. Of course the shithead wasn''t going to do this the easy way.


    "Last chance, Oliver," I grumbled. "Leave on your feet... or leave wrapped in your <em>g</em>. Your choice." Oliver clenched his teeth. Obviously, he wasn''t used to people disregarding him with such contempt.


    "Do you really want to do this, <em>sonny</em>? You really think I''m gonna make tracks out of here, head back West with my tail between my legs with nothing to show for it?" he growled at me through his clenched teeth. "<strong>No</strong>. I came for a fight today, and if you''re lookin'' to make me budge, then you better have a <strong>damn</strong> good left hook, because I''m not going anywhere." I chuckled and shook my head, which just seemed to piss him off more. "Something funny?"


    "What, you think these robots are the <em>only</em> Ace up my sleeve?" I asked with augh that gave way to a cough. "If you think that''s true, then you really <em>are </em>as dumb as you look!" Oliver sneered at me in disgust.


    "Yeah, well, right now, they''re all that''s standing here  ''cept for the corpses." He snorted derisively and folded his arms across his chest. "So, <em>that''s</em> your n? Hold the Dam here all by your lonesome?"


    "While the Boomers fly <em>west </em>in their fully armed B-29?" I shrugged, chuckling again. "Yeah, that works for <strong>me</strong>."


    General Oliver''s jaw dropped, and all the color seemed to drain from his face.


    "They... they <em>wouldn''t</em>," he practically whispered. I shrugged again.


    "Are you so sure about that? After all, I only suggested theye down to visit Hoover Dam, and then, the next thing you know..." I mimed an explosion with my hands. "<strong>Boom</strong>." Oliver''s eye twitched. "Face it, Oliver. I''m holding a Full House, and all you''ve got are a pair of <em>twos</em>."


    "This has been a fuck of a day," he muttered under his breath before shaking his head and attempting to rally onest time. "Do you know what you''re doing? Making a nation  like you think you''re doing  ain''t a walk in the park, boy. Think you got the guts to carve out a frontier? Build towns, protect the roads, run supplies, train troops?" I justughed again.


    "Can''t do a worse job than you idiots, that''s for <strong>damn</strong> sure," I said, clutching my side again and hoping that I wasn''t being too obvious. It was really starting to bleed badly again.


    "You motherfucker..." Oliver said, backing up again  but not so far that he wasn''t able to point at my face. "You need to seriously think about what you''re doing here. Because you''re not just pissin'' on me  you''re pissin'' on the <strong>Bear</strong>. The w of the Bear cuts <strong>deep</strong>... and I think you''ve been far enough West to know just how <strong>far</strong> that w stretches. When the NCRes at you again  and we <em>will</em>  we won''t stoping until we get what''s ours. So you best pray you''re ready, because if our situations are ever reversed, I''ll see you <strong>hang</strong>." I shook my head.


    "Nuts," I sighed, turning to therge and imposing robot next to me. "Yes Man? Please throw the ''good'' General off the Dam." Several of the ck Armor troops started to raise their rifles only to be turned into superheated piles of ash by the securitons all around. The rest dropped their weapons and put their hands in the air.


    "dly!" Yes Man said, rolling around me with his w arm outstretched. Oliver started backing away again.


    "Wh- what the <em>hell</em>?! No, get  get away from  AGH!" His frantic screams were suddenly muffled as the w wrapped itself around his head; Oliver started squirming as Yes Man picked him up and started carrying him away.


    "Hello, General Oliver!" Yes Man said happily to the man struggling against his metal grip. "The disappointment you are about to experience <em>delights </em>me!" It didn''t take long for the muffled screams of Oliver to fade away as he was carried off into the distance. One by one, everyone seemingly started to disperse, while I stood fixed in ce.


    I don''t think I could''ve moved if I even <em>tried</em>. I was finally starting to feel <em>extremely </em>dizzy. The blood was really flowing heavily out of my gut wound now. Behind me, I heard Cassugh out loud.


    "Fuck me, man!" Cass said, between bouts ofughter. "Remind me t''get you some polishter fer those <strong>massive brass balls</strong> o''yers! Fuck sake!" Eventually, herughter began to die down beforeing to a haltpletely. "... Shea? Sheason? Are y''alright, man?"


    That was around the time I lost my bnce, and fell t on my back. I hit the ground with a loud, heavy thud. But it didn''t really feel too bad... probably because I''d lost <strong>a lot</strong> of feeling, along with all the blood.


    "Oh, fuck! Sheason!" I heard Cass say from somewhere above me. As Iid there against the ground, I felt hands clutch at me. "Shea! Say something?!" The hands reached up and unbuckled my helmet, pulling it free of my head... but I could barely see anything. My vision was too cloudy with blood.


    At first, I couldn''t speak. I was too exhausted. And this ground was reallyfortable. Cass took my face in her hands, and lifted me up off the ground; I looked up at her and gave her a weak smile.


    "S''been... hell''ve... ride..." I muttered weakly. I tried to lift my hand, but I was far too weak to move. I was just so tired...


    "God damnit! Don''t you even <strong>think</strong> about it, you selfish <strong>fuck!</strong>" she shouted, holding me close; with every second, her voice seemed to grow more distant. "No! No, we ain''t done yet, you son of a bitch! Sheason! Sheason!? Fuck sake!"


    My vision faded into darkness. Every sound around me drifted away into silence. Every part of me turned cold.


    I just wanted to sleep.

 Chapter 173: Epilogue

    Chapter 173: Epilogue


    And so The Courier, who cheated death in the cemetery outside Goodsprings, managed to do the impossible onest time, and the Mojave Wastnd was forever changed.


    The army of securitrons beneath The Fort was a secret weapon that only Sheason''s closest friends sawing. It caught both Caesar''s Legion and the New California Republicpletely off guard, driving them both from Hoover Dam and securing the independence of New Vegas. With the aid of both The Kings and the Followers of the Apocalypse, the securitron army was able to maintain order in the city streets following the battle. The citizens of Freeside were already well ustomed to securitron patrols after the defeat of Los Zorroz, so very little seemed to change for most people.


    With the reigns handed over to Julie Farkas, New Vegas assumed its position as a powerful independent city-state: a shining beacon of civilization in the wastnd, and a refuge for those who wanted peace from the violence of the outside world. Using the resources of the Lucky 38 and the personality constructs in The Sink, the Followers expanded the infrastructure of the city at an exponential rate. The Council turned into a parliament; a constitution was drafted; the Lucky 38 became the new center of government; and ess to The Strip was made free to all.


    Word of Sheason''s sacrifice at the Dam spread like wildfire in the weeks following the battle. His actions ensured that Mr. House''s tyranny was broken, and that neither Caesar''s Legion nor the NCR would ever gain control over New Vegas. To honor his memory, Julie Farkasmissioned a statue of The Courier, holding aloft the helmet of his defeated foe, Legate Lanius.


    The Courier would always watch over the city he had liberated... the only ce he had ever truly called home.


    Thousands of ves suddenly found themselves free of the Legion''s oppression. In the days that followed the Legion''s defeat at Hoover Dam, the securitron army  directed, as ever, by Yes Man  provided protection and safety for the many refugees as they made their way from Hoover Dam and into New Vegas. The number of freed ves was far greater than anyone in the Followers had expected; even Julie Farkas was stunned by the seemingly never-ending trail of misbegotten, outcast souls.


    The Followers were overwhelmed at first, but they quickly gained control of the situation thanks to help from Yes Man''s securitrons, Jeeves, the personality constructs in The Sink, and countless other citizens in Freeside. While there were some who opposed even letting the refugees in (either out of fear, suspicion, or habit) there were many more who stepped forward out of human decency andpassion to lend aid however they could. In time, many of the freed ves eventually became Followers themselves, and the new arrivals helped Freeside bloom like never before.


    One of those refugees was a little girl. After her brief meeting with Sheason during his ill-fated foray into the Fort, she kept the promise he had made in the back of her mind. That thought kept her going. It kept her from giving up. And it kept her alive. Though she never saw him again, she somehow knew that the army of robots sent to free the ves was really the Courier making good on his promise...


    When his statue was finally finished, Melody would visit it every day, and thank the man who came back for her with an army.


    With New Vegas'' independence formally dered  and, more importantly, the Long 15 made safe again after the deathws were cleared out of Quarry Junction  Goodsprings thrived. More travelers stopped by Goodsprings on their way to and from the Strip, and the locals grew prosperous from all the traffic. They also enjoyed many perks of belonging to the greater New Vegas city-state, such as securitrons appearing as if from nowhere whenever the town was threatened.


    Several weeks after New Vegas'' independence was established, thest piece of self-aware code transmitted to the Lucky 38 mainframe finally finished reconstructing itself. Shortly after, dozens of eyebots began to emerge from inside the Lucky 38, one by one, and flew out into the wastnd. They traveled to every corner of the Mojave, determined to do whatever they could to protect their home.


    ED-E wasn''t going to let a little inconvenience like death stop him, after all. He was far too plucky and stubborn to let that kind of handicap slow him down.


    Despite the NCR''s pledge to support Primm, they abandoned the town after their humiliating defeat at Hoover Dam. When word of this reached Julie Farkas several weekster, she sent an envoy down to the town, asking if they wanted to join the fledgling city-state. They politely declined, preferring to keep totally independent; their time under NCR rule had left a bad taste in their collective mouths. It was tough and full of ups and downs, but they thought it was better than the alternative.


    In the years following the destruction of Cassidy Caravans, the NCR, Crimson Caravan Co., <em>and</em> the Van Graffs all suffered in various ways. With news of their underhanded sabotage made public back in California, very few people willingly continued to trade with either Crimson Caravan or the Van Graffs. The already struggling supply lines of the NCR, meanwhile, suffered even further. Public opinion seemed to agree that it was the NCR''s strict tradews, unfair tariffs, and corrupt border guards enacting their own "stop tolls" that caused the whole caravan mess in the first ce.


    The Gun Runners, on the other hand, continued to thrive, being one of the few California-based organizations still allowed to trade freely in New Vegas territory. When questioned about their alleged involvement in the "massacre in the east," spokesmen for the Gun Runners tly denied any such involvement, iming that they would have no public motivation for such an attack.


    Though Novac was a low-priority target for Legion forces already west of the Colorado in the days following the battle at Hoover Dam, it <em>was</em> still a target. Things were starting to look very grim for the people living in the shadow of Dinky the Dinosaur, when suddenly  in a highly improbable turn of events  Jason Bright and the other members of the Bright Brotherhood returned to Novac from their Great Journey. By the time Yes Man was able to divert securitrons to aid in the defense, the town had already been saved, in a fashion nearly too absurd to be believed.


    During the NCR''s hasty withdrawal from the Mojave, Craig Boone made a decision: he would remain in New Vegas. He never wanted for work, as his skills with a rifle were already legend, and he was always eager to jump to the city''s defense whenever he was needed. While there was a part of him that might have preferred rejoining his old unit and going back to California, Boone couldn''t bring himself to abandon the city where he''d met his wife.


    Veronica Santangelo and Christine Royce, after years of being kept apart, finally found happiness in each others arms once again. Completely severing any and all ties to their former lives in the Brotherhood, they were able to live the lesson learned in the Sierra Madre, truly letting the past go, so they could begin again... <em>together</em>.


    And what a new life they began! Veronica, Christine, and April eventually decided to create that band they all kept talking about. They called it <em>The Apunkalypse</em>, with Veronica on guitar, Christine on bass and vocals, and April on drums. They spread the music of Rock and Roll all throughout the wastnd, taking their unique sound on tour every chance they got.


    Three Dog ended up bing a big fan, ying recordings of their music on Gxy News Radio whenever he got the chance.


    The Brotherhood of Steel chapter operating out of the Lost Hills Bunker Complex made ns to leave the Mojave in secret, as Elder McNamara wanted to set out east to link up with the Capitol Wastnd Brotherhood as soon as possible. Not everyone agreed with the decision to leave, however, and a not insubstantial faction  led by Head Pdin Hardin  elected to stay behind, refusing to acknowledge the legitimacy of Arthur Maxson.


    Every few months or so, they wouldunch a raid for supplies to fill their ever dwindling stores. However, the more aggressive they became on the surface, the more losses they incurred. After two and a half years, the raids stopped altogether, and the Lost Hills Bunker Complex became silent.


    After a long and arduous journey that took nearly a year, McNamara, and all who followed him, arrived at The Citadel... sadly, long after Owyn Lyons sumbed to illness. Arthur Maxson  who had grown a penance beard in the interim  informed McNamara that the Brotherhood was in the nning stages to invade the Commonwealth, and he needed everyone ready for war. Institute Synths had murdered Sarah Lyons during a scouting mission several months previous, and Maxson would have his vengeance.


    McNamara wondered if, perhaps, he had made the wrong decision yet again.


    Arcade Gannon became an important figure in the shaping of New Vegas after independence was established, but he never took the spotlight, despite Julie''s encouragement. He was content to make sure the vast machine that was New Vegas ran smoothly behind the scenes, and he used his knowledge and expertise to help out people whenever he could.


    Traveling with Sheason helped Raul Tejada realize something: he didn''t need to <em>choose</em>. In the past, he thought that his life had to be one or the other  quiet repairman or heroic vignte. But he came to realize that he didn''t actually need to give up a part of himself to make a difference. He could operate out of his repair shop in Freeside, providing his services to the citizens of Freeside during the day, and he would continue to defend the defenseless and hunt down those who would prey on the weak in his guise as the Ghost Vaquero during the night.


    Thanks to Cmity''s diligence in finishing Doc Henry''s work, the research into finding a cure for the nightkin''s schizophrenia eventually bore fruit. With the cure entering mass production, and Marcus'' permanent role on the New Vegas parliamentary council, Jacobstown thrived. While it never really became a tourist spot for <em>humans</em>, nightkin and other wayward super mutants in the wastnd flocked to the old ski resort, and Jacobstown became a haven where any and all mutants could finally find peace and quiet.


    The people of New Vegas eventually got used to the sight of Stripe walking around. Part of that was due to Sasha, who (after getting the minigun barrels fixed) was much better at talking to the people than the deathw... even if he did asionally get a bit too over-excited and boisterous whenever the prospect of imminent violence drew near. Another part of that was Roxie, who could always be found in close proximity to the mohawked deathw and Russian cyberdog gun. The three of them eventually came to known by a simple name: The Guard Dog of Vegas.


    Rather like a faithful guard dog, all three became good friends to nearly everyone living in the city, and a nightmare to anyone dumb enough to challenge them. As time went on, many people debated: what <em>was </em>the better deterrent to attacking the city? Was it the army of securitrons, or was it the thought of facing The Guard Dog inbat?


    Tuera did not leave the Mojave after herst meeting with Sheason, but instead kept herself hidden in one of the many safehouses she''d established. She still kept her ear to the ground, intercepting and decoding NCR transmissions whenever she could; when she learned that the battle of Hoover Dam was taking ce, she suited up and made for the Dam with all speed... but she wasn''t fast enough. By the time she arrived, the battle was already decided.


    It didn''t take long for her to learn what happened to Sheason. The news broke her heart like it had been hit with an axe, sending her spiraling into depression. Everything she had ever known and everyone she had ever loved was now, truly and utterly, <em><strong>gone</strong></em>. She was alone.


    But she refused to give up.


    Sheason may have been gone, but New Vegas would always need someone like The Courier to protect it. She knew, deep down, that she couldn''t live up to Sheason; he was the hero New Vegas deserved. But she took it upon herself to take up the mantle regardless, in part to atone for the many crimes she hadmitted for the Enve in her past life and, in part, to ensure that Sheason''s legacy would live on.


    She would put her skills to use protecting the city for as long as she could  possibly forever, if her hunch was right. She knew she could take it. Because she <em>wasn''t</em> a hero. She would be a silent guardian... a watchful protector...


    A Dark Knight.


    It didn''t take long after Tuera took up the mantle of Courier for Emily Ortal to realize someone out there was still running around Freeside, righting wrongs and generally doing the Batman thing Sheason had enjoyed so much. She made contact, and was extremely surprised to find that Tuera was still alive; thest Emily had heard, the Enve Assassin had died on the Moon Base. Eventually, however, they came to an agreement, and Emily once again became Mission Control to a Courier running along the rooftops of Freeside.


    Freed of both Dog and the one who held Dog''s leash, the personality calling itself God resumed control of the heavily scarred nightkin: first the mind, then finally, the mutant''s ''shell.'' His first act was to tend the scars on the body with careful hands, slowly healing all the scars on his broken and battered body... except for the ragged name torn on his chest. He briefly thought of remaining at the Sierra Madre... but it was a monument built by humans, representing something he no longer needed. Two days after Sheason''s departure, he left the Madre. He picked a direction and began walking, in search of others like him. This was a rather prudent decision, considering the Madre''ster destruction...


    During his journey, he ran into a nightkin wearing a blonde wig and heart-shaped sses  who called herself Tabitha  apanied by a quirky Mr. Handy robot called Rhonda. The three of them decided to stick together, and set out into the wastnd. asionally, tales of their exploits found their way back west, though few believed them. Eventually, the stories were collected and published, and proved to make for quite the popr children''s stories.


    Thanks to Sheason''s intervention, Chief Hanlon abandoned his n to sabotage the defense of Hoover Dam, and returned to California. Word eventually reached Hanlon that the Rangers heroically assisted the NCR troopers in their ill-fated defense against the overwhelming might of Caesar''s Legion. Though the Courier arrived at thest minute to turn the battle around (just to snatch victory away from the NCR once again), only thete General Oliver was med for the crushing defeat; public support for the Rangers remained high. Exhausted and bitter over the waste of a life in the Mojave, Hanlon publicly turned in his guns and stepped down from his post. From there he began a long campaign in which he told the people of the NCR the truth of what had happened in the Mojave, and proceeded to denounce the hawkish, imperialist ways of Kimball and all his remaining political allies. There were many who believed that this (as well as the NCR losing Hoover Dam) was directly responsible for Kimball losing his bid for reelection... although some others argued that getting punched in the face on live TV hadn''t helped matters. In time, Hanlon was eventually elected as Senator of Redding.


    For the first time in a long time, Hanlon felt that he might actually, <em>truly</em>, make a difference.


    Despite technically being part of the New Vegas council, the Boomers very rarely left their homnd. Only Pearl, Loyal, and Shelby left with any regrity in the early days. A few indulged their curiosity and wanderlust to venture past the borders, but most of the Boomers were content to remain rtively isted  at leastpared to the other factions in the greater New Vegas city-state.


    Every once in a while, however, wanderers in the wastnd would asionally look up to see a bomber flying high over the Mojave Desert...


    After generations of being beaten down, and so desperate that they turned to the Legion for assistance without heed to the consequences, the Great Khans were finally broken in Red Rock Canyon. Those who avoided the massacre moved north, into the wilderness of Idaho. They had rebuilt from nothing before, and were determined to rebuild again.


    After their bold arrival at Hoover Dam, the Remnants disappeared as quickly as they came. Legends of their power spread throughout the southwest; a reminder of why people once feared the sight of vertibirds in the sky.


    The Big Empty crater remained rtively undisturbed by outside interference in the years following the battle of Hoover Dam. Yes Man, the resurrected ED-E, and Jeeves all took it upon themselves to watch over the crater, care for it, and keep the discoveries safe until they were needed to help others. This was certainly an apt turn of events, as that had always Big MT''s purpose. Past theboratories, madness, and SCIENCE!, Big Mountain had always been intended as a ce to build the future for all mankind.


    Dr. Mobius continued his research undisturbed in the Forbidden Zone. As much as he had attempted to create better scorpions, he tried the same with humanity, with... considerably less sess. These failures didn''t bother him, however. Once the rush of Mentats wore off, he forgot that he had failed in the first ce.


    After all, that bright young mind that came to visit had already exceeded his expectations... even when they were interrupted by that strange fleshy creature who spirited the bright young mind away.


    The Sink atop The Dome bustled with the voices of a small town, constantly chirping, arguing, and snarking at each other. This was only exacerbated as they continued running into each other in New Vegas, using their remote-controlled sensor balls. Jeeves eventually discovered that, despite his inversion code, he wasforted by the sense ofmunity the other personalities gave him.


    The Biological Research Station, now calling itself Barry on a regr basis, was a massive help to the people of New Vegas by bringing long extinct nts back to the world. He was still obsessed with seeding everything in sight, however, and requested one day that his chassis be transferred to the X-22 Botanical Gardens. He wanted to, in his own words, "sensually fertilize the garden''s smoooooth contours." The Garden sent back a polite refusal, saying it had priormitments with a Vault it had helped infect before The War. Barry took the rejection in stride, and went back to futilely hitting on The Sink.


    The Book Chute,pletely oblivious to the goings-on in New Vegas, continued to devour all seditious materials it could find until it nearly choked on a paperclip. It adamantly maintained it was a Chinese paperclip, and the whole thing had been an borately orchestrated assassination attempt. Whatever the reason, it slowed down for a while, carefully appraising each document and clipboard that came to it.


    The two light switches continued to bicker and flicker. Eventually, however, they were offered a rather intriguing opportunity: Veronica''s band <em>The Apunkalypse</em> was looking to add some color and sh to their shows. Would they like to help? Of course they did, and they soon learned that when they put aside their differences, they actually worked quite well together. They even made holograms for themselves, so they could join the band properly, one of them on the synthesizer and the other on rhythm guitar. After all, they didn''t want that one tawdry love affair with a hologram in the Lightwave Dynamics nt to go to waste, now, did they?


    Blind Diode Jefferson, with the sounds Sheason had brought him, created a symphonic counter-frequency that saved Big MT from the Sonic Invasion of 2910. Oh, you didn''t hear about it? <strong>Good</strong>. It was rumored by the other personalities that he had a brief fling with the light switches. Both of them. <em>At once</em>. He forgot their names once too often, however, and was soon left in the dark as punishment.


    Jocelyn, The Sink in The Sink, continued to ruthlessly scrub any particte matter that came near her stainless steel frame. Things went smoothly for Jo in the days that followed... even though she was identally given ess to the Maohydraulics nt one time, and nearly flooded all the Big Empty in an attempt to scrub the crater clean. Thanks to the Followers and their continuing efforts to build more vaporators, however, Jocelyn found new purpose in life: to bring clean, drinkable water to every corner of the wastnd. She was extremely insistent that this was <em>not </em>simply a way to get away from Barry''s painfully awful chat-up lines.


    The Toaster continued its psychotic spree, reducing all appliances in range to scrap electronics and spare parts. After one of its more psychotic episodes, however, the other Sink personalities decided enough was enough, and dumped the toaster in a bathtub. Sparking and hissing, the Toaster swore its enemies would rue the day when they had bread... and no way to toast it.


    Muggy mellowed out considerably after establishing himself permanently on the other side of the teleporter. Whenever <em>The Apunkalypse </em>went on tour, he jumped at the opportunity to join them. Part of that was their continued love of coffee, leading to a great many coffee cups that needed to be cleaned... but mostly it was so he could spend time with April. It was an unrequited crush, and he knew that, but he didn''t care. He just liked spending time with her.


    Auto-Doc, always gentle and methodical, quickly established himself as an extremely popr physician in one of the new hospitals the Followers built a few months after the battle at Hoover Dam. He was d to finally have purpose again, but always kept an eye on the goings-on in the crater of Big MT. In time, the Auto-Doc found a way to deactivate the Y-17 Trauma Harnesses, releasing the corpses they had held prisoner for over 200 years.


    When Sheason ran through the X-8 facility, theputers analyzed the test subject''s movements. Rather than performing a superficial observation, they realized the subject barely knew what Communism was  or even what a <em>high school</em> was. This confused theputers for a time, until the facility came to an overwhelming conclusion: the research against Communism had... <em>seeded!</em> So the X-8puters let its cyberdogs out into the wastes to help protect smallmunities from physical aggression, rather than Communist propaganda.


    The infiltration program in X-13 felt spent, having repeatedly upgraded Susan the Stealth Suit until it could upgrade her no more. It felt warm, fulfilled, and a bit sluggish. At first, the program thought the two of them had a good thing going... and then, not long after, it realized that Susan had left without so much as a note on the nightstand. It felt so <em>used</em>! The nerve! She could have at least <em>called</em>!


    Dr. Klein and the other members of the Think Tank remained alive, most of them blissfully unaware of the world outside. They looped through their daily routine, none the wiser about the world beyond... although perhaps "wiser" was the wrong word.


    The only one who seemed to notice Sheason''s absence was D. Eventually, curiosity (and loneliness) got the better of her. In secret, she hatched a n to go look for him without leaving the security of the Think Tank. She used the data collected from her many vigorous and thorough research sessions with him to construct several remote-controlled avatars: bodies grown from cyberflesh.


    While she used her "girls" to explore the wastnd, she <em>also </em>used them to explore parts of her personality that she never even knew <em>existed</em>. For the first time in 200 years, D felt truly alive. She walked barefoot through the desert. She felt the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. She tasted foods, catalogued smells, learned to dance, discovered what being drunk felt like, read books with her <em>eyes </em>rather than scanning them with cameras...


    And boy, <em>oh boy</em>, did she get <strongid</strong>.


    Hopeville burned lightless in the night, invisible fires of radiation scorching it from within and without. It is said a man still walks its streets to this day... a man with a tattered jacket and an Old World g etched on his back. He remained there, perhaps as punishment for the scars he left on the wastes  or a reminder of a history he could not, <em>would not</em>, forget.


    For Ulysses... his journey was over. The Courier had been the end of his road.


    Exactly as Ulysses predicted, the tunnelers did eventually start moving beyond the confines of The Divide. However, Ulysses was wrong about one thing: they did <strong>not</strong> find the world outside The Divide quite as easy prey as he thought they would. Ever since the first meeting of the Council when Sheason had presented everyone with the tunneler carcass, the tunnelers became a known, established threat. Countermeasures were developed, and contingency ns were put in ce. The people of the Mojave prepared for their arrival and the tunnelers  ravenous beasts, but not stupid  realized quite quickly that they would find no easy prey here. So instead of migrating, the tunnelers all decided to stay in The Divide and go back to hunting deathws. Those were much easier prey.


    EL-13/N, the ZAX 6.3 mainframe underneath the Big Empty continued to test, content that she did not have to deal with the outside world. The only change in her daily routine running the Perpetual Testing Initiative beneath the Big MT crater came nearly six years after Sheason''s idental foray into the underground facility. One day, andpletely without warning, the flow of test subjects from The Institute <strong>stopped</strong>.


    But that''s a story for another time.


    With the Enve''s Lunar Base destroyed, the Mega-Patriot defeated, their super soldier secret weapon blown in half by Christopher''s BFG 9000, and President Eden finally brought low by his hubris once and for all, the Enve were dealt a conclusive, grievous blow. However, many soldiers and scientists managed to evacuate before theplete destruction of the base, and there were still Enve facilitiesside that Chris and Fawkes had overlooked in their travels. While power armored fascists seem to have been soundly defeated, it wouldn''t be the first time the Enve hase back from the dead after having its entiremand structure thoroughly gutted.


    Only time will tell if the Enve is <em>truly</em> finished for good...


    In the new world of the Mojave Wastnd, fighting continued, blood was spilled, and many lived and died - just as they had in the Old World.


    It''s said that war never changes. Men and women do, through the roads they walk.


    And this road?


    This road has reached its end.

 Chapter 174: Afterword

    Chapter 174: Afterword


    Afterword


    Something felt odd. I could <em>feel </em>something, for one thing, and that was certainly a change from... from... I''m not sure. I''m confused. Was I dead? It felt like I was supposed to be dead. I think. I''m not sure. Didn''t I already do this? Something tells me that I''ve been here before.


    "I think he''s waking up!" I heard a muffled voice, like it was miles away.


    I tried opening my eyes. The sterile chrome roof above my head was blinding. Everything felt fuzzy. But I could definitely hear a steady beeping, and it felt like I was covered in... <em>wires</em>? Where am I? Am I in one of the Big MTbs, or...


    A hand squeezed my own. I looked down and tried to focus...


    "Bout time yer crippled ass woke up," Cass said from my side, smiling at me and holding onto my hand tightly. Her hat was nowhere in sight, and her messy red hair was hanging loosely around her smiling face. That just made me even more confused. Where the fuck was I? I think I''m lying down on something soft. Was I on a bed somewhere?


    "Whu happen''d?" I muttered, trying to blink away the haze. "Am... m''I dead?"


    "Very nearly," a familiar male voice said from the foot of my bed. I looked up and saw Christopher, his eyes still hidden behind those reflective sunsses of his, smiling broadly at me. "If you were anyone else, then you probably <strong>would</strong> be dead, considering the state you were in when you arrived."


    "Where is here, exactly?" I coughed out, the world finallying into stark focus. I was pretty sure I knew where I was, since Christopher was here, but no harm in asking, right?


    "You''re back on Mothership Zeta!" Moira said from my right. The frizzy-haired mad scientist pushed her sses up the bridge of her nose and waved at me awkwardly, still holding onto the end of the stethoscope sticking out of her ears. "Hello!"


    "Y''know, getting your intestines skewered and utterly ruined like that isn''t generally something most people can just walk off," Chris said with augh. "But you''ve got a lot of fight in you. I knew you wouldn''t let a mosquito bite like that slow you down any." Cass chuckled, squeezing my hand tighter.


    "I''ll say this for you," Moira said, pressing the end of the stethoscope onto my chest. "You''ve got a heart like a machine." I considered that, thinking back to my time in the Big MT, and all the various cybeics I''d had inside me.


    "Pretty sure it <em>is</em> a machine," I nodded at her. "Well... at least... <em>part</em> of the way." Moira blinked at me several times before looking back at Chris; he shook his head and shrugged.


    "Fair enough," she said, returning the end of her stethoscope to the middle of my chest. "Either way, I''ve never seen anything like it. You''re really quite the fascinating specimen! I would love the chance to examine some of your tissue samples more thoroughly, and "


    "Moira..." Chris chuckled, patting her on the back. "Give him some space. He must have the hangover of the century." Rather reluctantly, Moira nodded, getting up and making for the door. I turned back to Cass, who was still holding onto my hand with both of hers.


    "So, how did you guys fix me up, anyway?" I asked. "I thought for sure I was a goner."


    "Some crazy alien space-magic, far as I can tell" Cass said. "They had y''suspended in this huge tank full''ve some kinda super healing gel fer, like, two whole days."


    "Cass has hardly left your side," Chris offered up. I looked closer and realized she had positively <em>enormous </em>bags under her eyes.


    "How long was I out?" I asked. Cass shrugged.


    "Bout six days," she said. "I know it doesn''t count, cuz we''re in space an'' all..." She shot Chris a knowing smile. "...but down in Vegas it''s January 1st."


    "It''s the start of a whole new year, huh?" Iughed, settling back into the bed. "I suppose that fits."


    "I''m sorry," Chris said with a sigh.


    "Say what?" I asked, confused by the sudden shift in tone. "Why are <em>you</em> sorry? What d''ya have to be sorry <em>about</em>?" Chris shrugged.


    "Well, if I''d known that you guys were gonna go up against another Enve super soldier, I''d have shown up earlier!" he said. "I mean, by the time I got down there, I''d already missed all the fun!"


    I just stared at him with a look of exhaustion and annoyance for a few seconds.


    "Tell you what: <strong>you</strong> can get a spike in the stomach next time. Sound fair?" Chris let out a bellowing, raucous bellyugh.


    "Sure thing!" he said with a wave, walking away. "Well, I''ll leave you two alone." He gave me onest thumbs-up before walking through one of the nearby circr doors. I turned back to Cass just as she took my face in her hands and nted a kiss on my lips.


    "Thanks," I whispered, resting my forehead against hers. "Thanks for looking out for me." Cass smiled.


    "Hey, don''t mention it," she said, kissing me again. "If I ain''t gonna look out fer ya, no''ne else will." She chuckled. "Hell, you sure won''t!"


    "Yeah, you''re probably right..." I sighed, gently brushing her hair over her ear. "I love you, Cass."


    "I know," Cass shot back, smiling and sticking out her tongue. "Love you too, y''big lug." I pulled her closer, into a tight embrace, and she rested her head against my chest. The two of us held each other like that for a while... just content that we were together. For the first time in what felt like a very, <em>very </em>long time, there was nothing for either of us to worry about, and the two of us could simply rx. Eventually, Cass was the one to break the silence.


    "So... what''d you wanna do now?"


    I grinned at her like the Cheshire Cat.


    "Let''s go somewhere."


    <strong>THE END</strong>


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