Hey, long time, no see.
This is a much more ambitious project than Terms of Service or The Goatslayer.
I'm a huge fan of the Fallout series, particularly New Vegas, but I think Fallout 3 got some things right as well, and the Pitt dlc was by far the best content in terms of the story for me, and that is what inspired me to write this story.
I don't know how long it'll be, that depends on you, the readers to some extent.
This first chapter is mostly here to establish the state of the world, so I'm sorry for it being a bit long and slow. Then again, that's hardly unusual for Fallout compared to other games, right?
Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any fictional (or otherwise) product mentioned in this story. Fallout 4 would be out if I did.
Without further ado: Let the Nuclear Winter begin!
…
Fallout: Nuclear Winter
21/7/2299
"War… war never changes. Mankind has always been looking for answers. Who are we? Where do we come from? What is our purpose in life? Some claimed to have the answers; some were even willing to wage war for these answers. Now, over 200 years has passed since the war that marked the end of the world as man knew it. One young woman has questions in life, questions that need answers. For her the war has only started, because war… war never changes."
…
Marie could barely breathe. Her mouth was dry and the hot rays from the rising sun, unhindered by the cloudless sky didn't make her feel better. She was standing on an old highway in the middle of a vast wasteland. There were no trace of life, just empty car wrecks on both sides of the road and small groups of dead trees on the sides of the road.
"Remnants of a distant past that. A reminder of the world before it move on", a whispering voice said. "A world that used to belong to us." It was hauntingly familiar… she had heard it many times before; it was a distorted, perverse reimagining of a voice who's owner had been ripped away from her as a consequence of his own vile actions. A voice she had heard on a daily basis for a brief time in her life and afterwards on the few holotapes that still were around.
"But it can be ours again", Marie answered. She was familiar with the speaker and what he'd say next; she'd been here many times before.
"It can", the voice agreed. "Thanks to you."
The dead sand around the highway was starting to turn brown, and Marie could see green grass break forth out of the fertile ground. "Life returns, and with it the old world", she noted.
It would soon be over.
"Indeed", the voice said. "Life returns…", it was a bit different from his usual dialogue, but Marie didn't bother to put much thought on it.
Leaves began to grow in the trees, green and healthy leaves. Marie marveled at the sight… she didn't get to see life in all its glory often enough.
"… and even so, we still squander our world by repeating the mistakes of the past."
There was a sudden movement in the distance. Marie's eyes snapped away from the ever healthier trees and scanned the horizon. There in the distant north… she could see a figure dressed in black. It was moving in a slow pace but she couldn't decide whether it was moving towards or away from her.
"This is new", Marie said.
Curiousness and caution mixed in her veins and were blended into an arguing soup inside her mind. Should she follow? Risk whatever dangers the figure in black may impose for the sake of her curiosity? Should she remain where she stood? Where she was safe from danger in her little paradise, surrounded by the tall grass and colorful flowers?
Marie followed.
The effect on the environment around her began almost immediately; the grass shifted in color, first to gray, then to pink, followed by a deep shade of orange and eventually red like blood. The leaves on the trees withered and died, the branches turned scaly and began to twist in a rhythmic dance like tentacles on a beached octopus.
"What in the name of…" Marie was at a loss. This had never happened before.
She sped up as her personal paradise grew more and more twisted. The figure grew closer, but she was still uncertain if It was moving towards or away from her. She was sure It was responsible for whatever was causing the changes around her.
It suddenly stopped at a road sign and turned towards Marie. She had seen this woman many times on a framed photograph back home in her apartment, right next to the owner of the distorted voice that had spoken to her earlier. They were her parents; Ishmael Ashur and Sandra Kundanika, long ago taken from her by a wanderer on a quest to restore order in a world of anarchy.
North
"The fire rises in the north… and it brings winter with it", the familiar voice said.
A sudden flash in the horizon almost blinded her. She shielded her eyes as the swamp-cloud rose to the sky. She had seconds left to live before the blast wave would rip her apart.
"Next stop, DC Central!"
Marie looked from left to right, desperate to find a shelter. A wall of dirt came rushing towards her, consuming everything in its way.
"DC Central, ten minutes!"
What? Marie spun around, looking for the source of the new voice. There was nothing and no one else in the wasteland around her…
…
"Next stop, DC Central! DC Central, ten minutes!"
The conductor's voice roused Marie from her dream and brought her back to the world of the living. She had fallen asleep at some point during the ride between the Roosevelt Farms and Megaton and missed the fortified town completely. Not that it mattered… Marie's thoughts were entirely focused on the dream she had had.
It had started as normal, the wasteland, her father's voice; the same dream she had whenever she visited the Pitt. But the figure in black; her mother… she'd never been part of the dream. Neither had the nuclear explosion.
"It was just a dream, leave it at that", a voice of reason tried to tell her. "Just your exhausted mind playing tricks on you."
That was most likely the truth, but there was something in her that wanted to scream at reason and logic, rip them apart with her own hands and show them just what she felt.
"That's just how you react when your mother comes to your mind", her reason said. "Take a deep breath and calm down. Take a look outside the windows and enjoy the scenery."
Marie listened. She could see the dark gray mass of ruined buildings growing bigger by the minute through the dusty windows. The train would soon make a deep dive into one of the old metro tunnels and make its final approach to its final destination.
She saw vast croplands with farmers working their Brahmins and sometimes being helped by robots or other automatons. A group of soldiers on patrol were busily chatting with a farmer close to the tracks. Several of them turned towards the train and waved at the passengers in the carts when they sped past. A small smile spread on Marie's lips as the train started to descend into the metro tunnels under the DC ruins. The dream began to fade from her mind. Yeah, just a dream.
She glanced at the twenty or so other passengers in the train cart. Most of them were workers from the Pitt who had boarded the train at the same time as her a few days earlier, but there were also three Regulators who had boarded the train at one of the quarries in the northern parts of the Capital wasteland. She didn't recognize anyone in the group, but that was hardly a surprise: Regulators, the wandering lawmen of the wastes were a rare sight in the DC area nowadays.
One of the workers had brought his family, a young woman and two small kids. Marie normally didn't have anything against children, but these had been way too loud for her during the ride. She had tried to change carts during the many stops, but all the others had been packed to their limits.
As on cue, the smallest of the children, a two-year old boy, started to cry once again. Marie felt her eyes turn to daggers and had to force them to glare through the window instead of the boy and kept her eyes locked on the dark wall of the metro tunnel.
Marie was on her feet as soon as she saw the distant light of the underground train station. She had to elbow her way through the many workers who shared her mindset, but it didn't take her long to escape the confines of the train and emerge on the platform.
The DC Central Station had until a few years ago been known as Metro Central, but had been renamed after it had been repurposed to accommodate trains once again. It had once been a tomb, filled with victims of the Great War, both dead and worse. It was now flourishing with life and movement; workers from the Pitt who were on vacation, soldiers who returned home after long tours at the northern border and beyond, settlers looking for a better life, merchants showing off their wares and much, much more.
Marie made her way through the chaos and headed for the exit as fast as she could. The exit was manned by a squad of soldiers in the standard green combat armor commonly seen on the east coast.
"Morning, miss", the sergeant in charge said. He then glanced at her backpack. "Got anything to declare?"
She had gone through this more times than she cared to count. She recognized several of their faces and she knew that they all recognized her as well. It didn't serve any purpose at this point, but she knew they had to follow regulations… and so did she.
Marie produced her badge that identified her as a courier of the Capital Resurrection Society. It was handy when you didn't want to be slowed down by bothersome bureaucracy… and when you actually had possessions that could be considered contraband. Marie considered her heart to be in the right place, but she wasn't above earning a few caps on the side as long as it didn't cause harm to innocent lives.
"Courier Marie Ashur", she declared. "I'm here on official CRS business."
The sergeant (Sterling if her memory served her right), gave the badge a quick glance and stepped aside to allow her passage.
Marie was halfway through the checkpoint when someone shouted at her from behind. "Wait a minute."
Her heart jumped up into her throat and caused her to hiccup. She had not lied when she claimed to be on official business; she was carrying a package that she was to deliver, but she was also carrying about a dozen shots of Ultra jet, a drug that was illegal within the city limit.
Courier or not, she would be hauled off into a cell without further notice. Her thoughts went haywire, and she felt her grip of the situation coming loose.
Ok, stay calm now, girl. This is just another formality. Keep calm and cooperate… and smile. Smiling usually works.
Marie stopped dead in her tracks and tried to keep her composure. She glanced over her shoulder back at the speaker, a young corporal seated at a computer. "Yeah, what's up?"
The corporal pointed at the computer screen with a thoughtful expression. "I see here that Dr. Bigsley has asked you to bring 'the package' to his office immediately on your arrival. I suggest you hurry up."
Marie sighed in relief. She had been caught under different circumstances before and had only gotten out of trouble thanks to her special heritage, but those lifelines had since been spent. She'd face some serious time in jail or be forced into hard labor if anyone decided to search her backpack.
She nodded to the corporal. "Sure, I'll get going then."
The new instructions didn't startle her that much. It wasn't unusual for her superiors to change her deliveries; the short notice was however quite unusual.
But there was no reason to ponder about why they had changed her instructions. She was just supposed to deliver a package after all.
…
Marie hadn't even been a year old when Project Purity had been activated and changed the face of the Capital Wasteland. She had never seen the Mall when it was a battlefield between Super mutants, the Brotherhood of Steel and Talon Company. She had never known the constant risk of death by dehydration. She had never lived in the chaos that had been the Capital Wasteland.
Fresh, clean water had changed everything. People slowly forgot their past grievances and started to work together for a better future. The numerous bands of raiders and slavers were routed, the once dominant Super mutants were hunted to near extinction with a few exceptions and settlers flocked to what once had been the eyesore of the east coast.
A provisional government known as the Capital Resurrection Society had been formed between the towns and prominent factions when it became apparent that the influx of settlers would cause problems in the long run. The CRS enforced laws and order to prevent the anarchy of the wasteland from returning, some of which was enforced with force, but order endured. For a time, the Capital Wasteland knew peace.
…
Marie took in the sight of the Mall when she emerged from the Metro at the Museum station. What had once been a raging battlefield twenty years earlier was now the biggest and most important settlement in Capital Wasteland, as well as the capital of the CRS. Most of the buildings around the mall had been rebuilt to some extent or entirely repurposed. Her destination for instance, the former Museum of Technology now served as a center for research and development for the CRS. They were usually the ones who sent her on deliveries or retrievals and provided her with caps and a sense of purpose.
The ancient Washington Monument stood strong and proud as usual. It sported a red and white banner with a single red star in the middle. The CRS flag.
Marie had heard that about ten thousand people inhabited the Mall, many of them made a living as construction workers, scavengers, mechanics, merchants and many other occupations that didn't require the people to fight for their lives on a daily basis. It was a city that slowly came back to life, and humanity would rise with it. Marie was sure of it.
The Museum was fenced off from the rest of the Mall and patrolled by armed guards, but these men and women knew very well who Marie was and didn't even bother her when she walked through the gate and entered the building.
The main hall was almost devoid of life and movement. Two guards armed with assault rifles stood posted on either side of the double doors, and another one sat behind the reception desk next to a receptionist.
The room had been stripped of all pieces from its museum days and looked rather bare. Clean but bare. The only form of decoration was a white banner that hung from the ceiling with the institution's motto.
"Let innovation be our sword."
The receptionist was a stocky woman in her late forties. She wore a blue sleeveless Vault-Tec jumpsuit and had long blond hair. She smiled at Marie when the younger woman approached the desk.
"Good morning, Marie", she said.
Marie smiled back. "Good morning to you too, Susie. Quiet morning?"
She had known Susie Gomez for years and really liked the older women. She was a former Vault-dweller, much like several of the experienced mechanics in the R&D department.
"Yeah", Susie said. "But I expect that to change within the hour. The schedule is pretty packed today."
Marie secretly pitied the women. She couldn't imagine herself being stuck behind a desk all day, not when there was a whole world out there to explore. "I won't take any more of your time then", she said and patted her backpack. "I got a package to deliver to Dr. Bitter."
Susie giggled at the nickname. "I'll let him know you're on the way."
"Thanks, bye."
…
Dr. Isaac Bigsley was a former scribe from the Brotherhood of Steel according to popular rumors within the department. He was known to be an innovative scientist and good organizer, both of which were qualities that had landed him a position as the head of science-team Gamma, one of the most successful teams in the entire department.
He was also infamous for his short temper when he met opposition from both colleagues and failed experiments. This had led many to call him "Dr. Bitter" behind his back.
Marie had once seen him explode when a delivery she had made had turned out to be a dud. That had been an equally entertaining as frightful sight.
She smiled at the memory as she walked into Bigsley's office. The wooden walls were literally covered with scientific blueprints and calculations she couldn't even begin to understand. At the farther wall stood a desk facing the door. Behind the desk sat an old man in a white labcoat. Isaac Bigsley had a tired face that spoke of years of insomnia and a tireless work ethic, but there was a spark behind his icy blue eyes that spoke of conviction and dedication few humans could measure against.
"Yes, what is it?" asked Bigsley, his eyes didn't leave the monitor completely.
Marie took off the backpack from her aching back and held it out in front of her. "I'm here with the package, sir."
He finally looked at her, and Marie could've sworn she saw the hint of embarrassment. "Oh, you're that courier, right? Marie was it?"
"Yeah, that's me."
Bigsley motioned her forward. "Excellent, I presume everything went as planned?"
The delivery had been straight-forward enough. Marie had been hired to get the package from a well-known scavenger who sometimes passed through the Pitt and return with it to DC. The only problem she had encouraged from the job was boredom during the train ride.
"No problem at all, sir", Marie said and reached into the backpack.
The package was a sealed metal box with a worn Vault-Tec logo in the top. Marie had received a key as well in a separate container. She had been curious about the contents of the box, but she hadn't dared to unlock it and examine it. It was probably sealed for a reason after all. That applied in particular when it came to Vault-Tec.
She placed the two boxes on the desk in front of Bigsley and quickly hung the backpack over her back again. Bigsley was a perceptive man, and a quick peek could turn out to be fatal for her. "These are the packages I received from the supplier at the Pitt, sir."
The scientist grabbed the larger box with both hands and examined it. "The seal looks intact… just as promised." He placed it on the desk and took the key from the smaller box.
Marie waited patiently; she wouldn't receive her reward until Bigsley had concluded that the package was in fact the one he had asked for. Her curiosity grew by the tenfold when he pushed the key into the keyhole and started to turn it.
"Looks like the key fits as well", Bigsley mused and suddenly stopped.
Marie wanted to scream at him, grab the box and unlock it; she had transported the damn thing for days after all. It wasn't fair to leave her hanging like that.
Bigsley looked up at her and smiled awkwardly. "Oh, forgive my manners. You must want your reward after all." He opened a drawer and produced a small sack of cloth. "300 caps, as agreed for a job well done." There was suddenly a hint of finality in his voice.
Marie got the hint; their business was concluded, and she'd overstay her welcome if she remained any longer. She took the sack and nodded. "Thank you, sir."
Bigsley was already occupying himself with the box. It looked like he was copying the serial number on a clipboard. Marie sighed and left. The content would be a mystery for another day. She had another package to deliver after all.
Rivet City, here I come!
…
It took Marie almost four hours to get from the Mall to Rivet City. CRS had cleared several paths throughout the DC ruins to make it easier to travel between the populated enclaves. It would've been quicker to use the old Metro tunnels, but several of those were under lockdown or being reconstructed to accommodate trains once again.
Rivet City was still one of the most important settlements in the entire Capital Wasteland. What had once been a beached aircraft carrier had turned into a prosperous hub for traders from all over the east coast. The city had grown and now included a large number of partly restored buildings in the immediate area of the carrier. Docks with dozens of boats and ships now dotted the Potomac bay, all of them with traders eager to sell and buy trade goods.
Marie's goal was in the basement of an apartment complex in the Anacostia Crossing. The building had low-rent apartments for those who had little standard when it came to the state of their homes. These usually included caravan guards, new settlers with few caps in their pockets and construction workers.
The basement was known as The Abyss, a rather infamous bar and drug-den. It was the kind of place where you didn't ask the patrons any questions unless you asked for trouble. Those who did usually ended up dead in a nearby alleyway or on the bottom of the Potomac bay if they were unlucky.
The Crossing was buzzing with life; Marie could see half a dozen captains on the hunt for crewmen, merchants trying to sell imported wares, caravan drivers who were looking for the guards they had hired the previous night and so on. There were also a staggering number of drunks and beggars (some fitted the same label) wherever they could find unoccupied space.
Marie tuned out their cries for caps and marched through the crossing. The entrance to The Abyss was guarded by two mean (and dumb) looking bouncers. Marie had never bothered to learn their names; she simply referred to them as Larry and Harry. They would charge an entry-fee of five caps for every guest, ten if they didn't like his or her attitude.
Couriers like Marie who delivered the more desirable goods were however not required to follow this particular rule. She flashed her badge to them as discreetly as she could. "Got a batch for your boss. The good stuff."
Larry's eyes focused on her backpack. "How good?"
She placed a protective hand on the shoulder strap. "Ultra good."
Larry smirked and reached out towards the backpack. "Really, huh? Care to give us a taste?"
Marie's hand lowered to the revolver she had tucked into a holster strapped to her belt. Those shots were worth a lot of money and she had no intention of letting some addict ruin her credibility as a courier who delivered the entire package.
Larry saw her hand move and met her gaze; his hand grabbed the cattle-prod in his belt. He smirked and Marie could practically hear his voice in her head. "Your move, girlie."
Harry saved the situation by shoving his partner aside and motioning Marie forward. "The boss is waiting inside."
Marie didn't wait for him to change his mind or let his partner have a sample. She was through the heavy wooden door before either of the two could utter a single word.
The Abyss was barely lit, particularly during daytime despite it being open 24/7 for any paying costumer. The air was reeking with cigarette smoke and was damp by vomit and other bodily fluids Marie didn't even want to think of. There were tables and chairs for fifty or so people but a there would be at least a hundred guests during a normal night.
Daytime was however slow, which was why Marie preferred to visit the place as early as possible; less people who would try to mug her and take the wares.
There were only a three patrons sitting at the bar. One ghoul who had passed out in his chair, a number of empty ampules was spread out around him on the floor. Jet, Marie noted.
The second patron was a scarred man in a worn armor of reinforced leather. He was leaning over the bar with a half empty bottle of whisky.
The final patron was a thirty-something woman with sickly pale skin. Marie had seen vault-dwellers who were pale, but this woman was whiter than snow. She wore a black trenchcoat and had a dark full-face helmet sitting on a chair next to her. The woman's crimson eyes were solely focused on a half empty bottle of wine in front of her, but her tense shoulders told Marie that she was well aware of her surrounding and was expecting something… or perhaps someone.
The attire looked familiar as well, and there was something about the woman that was… intriguing in a scary way. But Marie knew that asking questions would cause trouble and kept her mouth shut.
She repeated her old mantra for situations when she was in potential danger. Get in, get the money, and get out quick!
The bartender, an elderly woman named Belle Bonny hefted a wrinkled thumb over her shoulder towards a reinforced metal door with the label.
"Employees only! Trespassers will get shot!"
Marie knocked on the door three times in quick succession. A gruff voice boomed through a small gap on the door at the same height as Marie's eyes. "What's the password?"
"Sausage", Marie said.
The Abyss had a number of passwords for the employees and the many couriers that transported sensitive goods. Sausage was the password for couriers with Ultra-jet. Marie was aware of a few others; all of them were words you didn't say in front of your mother.
Mother… Marie shuddered at the thought. She felt an uncomfortable ache in her stomach and the floor seemed to move like a restless sea. She almost lost her balance and had to brace herself against the wall to remain on her feet. Keep calm, girl. Focus on the present.
A big man with a double-barrel shotgun appeared on the doorway when the door swung open. He kept the shotgun pointed at her a second too long before he lowered it and stepped aside to let her in. "He's in the office."
Marie had always liked Brock. He was certainly capable of breaking every bone in your body and didn't hesitate to make it clear… but he wasn't overly aggressive either. Don't cause trouble and you're fine.
Marie felt the dizziness dissipate for a moment and pushed herself off from the wall. She didn't intend to cause trouble by wasting time. "Thanks", she said and walked through the door.
She entered a long hallway with three doors on either side; storerooms for alcohol and lodgings for the staff. One of the storerooms also had a hidden safe where they kept the wares that the authorities tried to keep from the populace. Not that Marie thought it mattered; the CRS lawmen had too much on their hands to bother with drugs unless they managed to catch a smuggler red-handed.
The manager's office was on the other end of the hallway. The room served as both office and bedroom for the owner, a man in his mid-thirties with unkempt brown hair. He was unusually pale and exhaustion was clear on his face; James Hargrave had looked better for sure.
Marie braced herself; James Hargrave was known for his short fuse and irrational behavior when he was in a bad mood. But it was hard to not sympathize with him to some extent. She had heard that his father had left him at a young age, and his mother had been an alcoholic and a junkie. Some even said that he had shot his mother when she tried to rent him to a man a year or so after the Project Purity had been activated.
Like that makes him special… Everyone got some kind of baggage, Marie thought bitterly.
"You´re late", James said flatly and leaned back in his chair.
Insults and aggressive behavior was to be expected when dealing with James Hargrave, but that was uncharacteristically timid for him to say. Marie ignored the warning bells in the back of her head. He may actually be in a good mood despite his appearance, Marie reasoned. "I'm here with the package from the Pitt", Marie said and started to place the red vials on his desk. "Thirteen shots of Ultra. Murphy was rather proud of this batch."
James crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sure he was, but the fact remains; you're late."
This was probably an attempt to lower her fee and increase his profits. This man was not above such acts whenever they suited him. Marie had made it back on time, and they both knew it. She met his tired gaze with pointy daggers. "Don't fuck with me, Hargrave! We both know I got here on time."
He pushed aside the vials and produced a similar one from his shirt pocket. The liquid inside it was a bit paler, more orange than deep red. He held one up to her and smirked. "Want one? It's on the house."
Charity wasn't one of Hargrave's strong sides, and he would never give away Jet for free. "What is this?" Marie asked. She had only used Jet a couple of times when she was a teenager. It had been exiting at first, but the side effects and withdrawal was too inconvenient to bother with. Plus, Marie liked to keep her head straight.
"Bought this and another hundred yesterday from a new supplier in the harbor… for five caps a piece. Tell me… how much would you charge me for this delivery, hmm?"
"You know that my standard fee is 200 caps", Marie said plainly and finally began to understand what was going on. But how is this possible? Five caps for a single shot of Jet? That's not profitable for the manufacturer. Marie didn't know how the eggheads made Jet, but the ingredients alone would cost much more than five caps. He could've been bullshitting of course… but he knew as well as her that she wouldn't supply him anymore in the future if he ripped her off to such a great extent. That was not profitable on the long run. He may actually tell the truth, Marie reasoned. He may have a much cheaper supplier…
Truth or not, it didn't matter; she had to go on the offensive if she wanted to walk away with any caps at all. She took the shot he had offered her. It looked like regular Jet, just more orange than red. The ampule also lacked the professional craftsmanship present on the ones she had brought. Were these really as effective, or were they watered down? Marie smirked; she had something to work with. "That's regular Jet, right?"
"Sure", Hargrave said.
Marie held up one of her ampules next to Hargrave's. "What will your ghoul costumers say if you can't provide them with the stimulants they need?" Granted, ghouls were a minority in the harbor, only a few visited the Abyss each day, and most of those were as poor as the rest of the guests. But Jet had barely any effect on ghouls. Ultra-Jet was the thing that worked best on them. Murphy, the inventor of Ultra-Jet was a ghoul himself.
Hargrave's confidence disappeared from his face. He leaned over the desk and combed a dirty hand through his messy hair. "Good point… but it'd be more profitable for them to just by multiple shots of regular Jet than a single shot of Ultra."
She had known he'd say that and was prepared with a counter- argument. "Sure, but how many will actually bother with taking several shots?" That was the main appeal of Ultra after all; it was more convenient to take a single shot than multiple to get the same effect. Some would probably take more Jet, but Marie didn't doubt that most of the Ultra-users would stop just like that.
Hargrave held up his hands in a mocking surrender. "Okay, so there is a market for Ultra. But the… current price on the market will reduce your cut."
She didn't think he'd back away from that statement. Pressing the matter too much further would only cause trouble and maybe end her up on the bottom of Potomac. Better cut my losses and go, she reasoned. "How much do you have in mind?"
"100 caps, fair and square", Hargrave said.
She had expected low, but not that low. She'd fight him on that. "You know what risks I take when I make these deliveries. I want 180 caps."
He shook his head. "Those risks are minimal. 120 caps."
"You know I had to go out of my way to get these. Make it 160."
He frowned. "You were going to the Pitt anyway." He gritted his teeth. "You're too much of a bother. 150 caps is my final offer. Take it or leave it. There are other good couriers willing to make the same delivery for that price."
But not as good as me, Marie thought. But it was a good deal considering the circumstances. She'd make a smaller profit than expected, but it was a profit none the less. "Deal", she said and offered him her hand for a shake.
He shook it with the enthusiasm of a mole rat.
Brock the bouncer suddenly materialized in the doorway. "Hey, there's this costumer asking for Ultra, boss. Do I tell 'er we got some or not?"
Marie had to stiffen a laugh. She hadn't expected the demand to be that apparent so soon. And it was a shame Brock hadn't arrived a minute earlier.
Hargrave grabbed one of the shots from the table and tossed it to Brock. "You tell her to knock herself out."
Brock caught it and nodded. "Sure thing, boss."
Hargrave took a small box from a shelf and placed the remaining ampules in it. "And here's your payment", he said and placed two bags on the desk in front of Marie. "You can count you can count them if you want." There was something in his voice. Not anger yet, but he had obviously been embarrassed by Brock's sudden request.
She took the bags and placed them in her backpack even though she knew she was naïve to do so. "I trust your honesty."
"We're done in that case", Hargrave said.
Brock returned and escorted Marie back to the bar. She noted on her way out that the pale woman was the costumer who had purchased Ultra. The woman sat in her chair and seemed to inspect the content. Maybe she didn't think it was the real stuff. Trust me, lady, Murphy makes the best Ultra, Marie thought.
…
Night had fallen when Marie reached her home, a small apartment on the northwestern end of the mall, next to Lincoln's memorial, nowadays serving as home for the Temple of the Union, an organization dedicated to freeing humanity from slavery. The memorial had been mostly restored since the Temple of the Union took over and was one of the most impressive structures in the DC area.
Marie was hungry and thirsty when she unlocked the door to the apartment and entered her home. She recalled she still had some beef jerky and a bottle or two of Aqua Pura in the pantry. Her stomach growled at the thought of food.
The living room/bedroom was a simple affair, a small room with an old couch that served her bed, a small table next to it. The most prominent furniture was a wooden desk with a working computer next to the outer wall which gave her a good view of the Mall when she was working or researching the content of the many holotapes she kept in a hidden safe behind the couch. There was also a framed photograph of a couple holding a small child in their linked arms. They grinned at the photographer and didn't look like they had a care in the world. It was partly hidden behind the monitor… or would have been if it hadn't been in the hands of an unexpected guest sitting on the couch.
Marie ignored her guest and walked into the kitchen. The only appliance that worked was the fridge. Not that it mattered; Marie had only learned to cook over an open fire, most of the pre-war relics were beyond her understanding. She found some beef jerky and two bottles of Nuka cola and returned to the living room.
"What are you doing here, Kane?" Marie asked her guest.
Kane Lyons was known as many things. "The Hero of the wastes", "The true Messiah", "Symbol of hope" among other titles. But he was best known as "The lone Wanderer", the vault-dweller who braved the wasteland. Marie knew him as the closest thing to a father she had had during her childhood… she also knew him as the man who had killed her real parents.
He was a Caucasian male in his early forties with grayish brown hair that he kept rather short. The focused brown eyes had once been full of excitement and unending thirst for adventure and knowledge. They were now tired and close to the brink of exhaustion. Marie had seen that special fire behind his eyes slowly grow weaker and weaker for each year that went by, but she had never seen it as weak as it was now; barely there, only held alive by the faintest string of hope.
He kept it hidden pretty well, but Marie had known the man for most of her life. There were few things even the Lone Wanderer could keep from her.
She cleared her throat and repeated the question. "What are you doing here, Kane?"
Kane snapped out of his thoughts and met her gaze. "I asked for you at R&D earlier today."
"Sorry, can't recall anyone asking for me", Marie said and ate a piece of jerky.
He chuckled. "That's because you left as soon as you Bigsley gave you the caps."
She threw one of her Nuka's to him and walked to him and walked to the desk and leaned against the edge. "And now you're here… must be pretty important if you decide to invade my private space." It was her turn to chuckle as she spun her right hand across the room in a dramatic gesture. "Quite literally I might add."
"What?" Kane asked. A humorless grin sneaked its way onto his face. "Can't a man wish to see his surrogate daughter once in a while?"
Marie smirked. "Come on, Kane. I appreciate that you were there for me when I was a kid, but I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself, you know."
"There's something about that backpack that makes me think otherwise." His voice had turned from amused to stern in an instant. "It smells like it's been to interesting places."
Damn you, you perceptive bastard. She took a deep breath. His tone threatened to get her gears moving, and that would likely cause quite the argument. Neither of them would want that. "I'm not going to say anything about that. I do what I can to survive, okay?"
He held up his hands and looked genially sorry. "Look, all I'm saying is that you can earn a living through other ventures." He put an emphasis on 'other'.
She knew exactly what he meant. It wasn't the first time he had made the suggestion after all. "Seriously? We've talked about this before. Do you really think I'm cut out to be a Regulator?"
He smiled again. "Honestly? No, not as you are right now." He took a sip from the Nuka she had given him. "But I know your heart is in the right place. You'd make a perfect Regulator with some training." She was about to voice her opinion on that when he silenced her with his knowing stare. "But I won't force the issue. Just remember that the option is there."
He took another sip… or rather emptied the rest of the entire can in one go. How long has he been sitting there to be that thirsty? Marie wondered. Or was it affected by whatever was causing him so much stress?
"Can we please stop beating around the bush now that we have the pleasantries out of the way? Why are you here, Kane?" Marie had never been known for her subtlety when she wanted to get things done, and now was one of those times. She was hungry, tired and wanted to change into something more comfortable.
Kane placed the empty can on the table and cast a final forlorn look at the framed photograph of the couple and the infant child. "You remember what I told you when you were twelve, right?"
His sorrowful eyes were like two daggers digging their way into her heart. But the memory of the confrontation that had led to the promise felt like a super sledge to the ribs. She tried to suppress the feelings, but they endured, refused to let go of their grip on her and dragged her into depths she was unsure if she wanted to explore.
Kane didn't wait for her to answer the question. "I promised that I'd tell you whatever I learned about your mother. Where she came from, if…" He stopped and lowered his gaze to the floor.
"… If she had any relatives", Marie finished for him.
"Yeah, if there was anyone else in her life."
Marie knew more than enough about her father; Ishmael Ashur had been born in some place called Lost Hills in the far west. He had been an esteemed paladin in the Broterhood of Steel who had been picked by his superiors to journey east to the Capital Wasteland to gather tech for the brotherhoods shrinking arsenal. He had been left for dead in the ruins of Pittsburg, where he had attempted to create his own empire through enslaving people en masse. This had come to an abrupt end when the slaves revolted, supported by the man who had become her surrogate father.
But she didn't know anything about her mother; Sandra Kundanika was a mystery to her and the population of the Pitt. She had apparently been a scientist of some kind who had joined Ishmael Ashur's cause to unite the wasteland, but that was all Marie had ever gotten to know.
She had searched for information for the latter half of her teens but had come up empty. The woman was an enigma.
That Kane Lyons had found something more than twenty years after the slaves' revolt was surprising… and scary. Something inside Marie grew restless and wanted Kane to simply leave and pretend he hadn't come to her apartment.
But her subconscious had other plans. "You have to face this eventually… why waste time now when an opportunity has presented itself?"
She couldn't find a good reason to say no. She let out a deep sigh and motioned for Kane to speak. "Cut to the case already… what have you found out?"
The lone Wanderer produced a holotape and held it out towards her. "I got this the other day… it contains a report from one of our scouts who's surveying the northern coast. It contains an extensive list of prominent individuals they've encountered or heard rumors about during their survey. One particular name stood out and may be of interest for you." He placed the holotape on the table and stood up. "Look me up at my office tomorrow if you're interested to pursue this further."
Marie took the small plastic device and stared at it in disbelief. 'One particular name?' That's a little vague. "Any more information could be useful", she said as the Wanderer walked towards the door.
He paused at the door but didn't turn around. "It's the only page that isn't encrypted." He opened the door and walked out; his final words were barely audible. "It's time to close the book, Marie."
…
Marie finished her meager dinner while she waited for her computer to finish installing a new update to be able to read the content on the holotape.
Field report #13
Date: 13/6-2299
To: Commissioner Kane Lyons
From: Survey Team Eden
Subject: Prominent Figures
Page 17
Sir, we've heard numerous rumors about the Institute since we left the Big Apple. Most can be disregarded as local folktales and superstition; some seem to believe it to be a place of magic and wonder while others believe it to be a den of evil [see page 12 for further details]. There is one solid lead however; we've met several merchants and traders who talks about this scientist who travels along the coast and makes a living by repairing pre-war tech and practically restoring them to mint condition.
I didn't believe it until I saw her handiwork myself; a Protectron in Inner Haven. It looked and acted like it just came out of the factory. No mere scavenger could've done that, sir. I suspect this scientist is either a defector or an agent from The Institute. It took us a while, but we managed to learn her name after some snooping around in the science community.
She's apparently using the name Delilah Kundanika, but is more commonly known as the Vagabond. I've taken the liberty to place this woman on our priority list for questioning as she may have invaluable information about what's going on inside the Institute. We'll keep investigating her whereabouts as we move north.
Signed: Mitchell Reeves
Marie re-read the report three times and stared at the name on the screen. Delilah… The name in itself didn't spark any memory or reaction. The surname was another matter; it could've been a stupid coincidence and nothing more. Many people shared surnames without them being related at all. But this was different, and Marie knew it. She had never met anyone who shared her surname… not even heard of one. This Delilah woman was also some sort of science-type, just like her mother had been.
Marie felt restless; this wasn't a coincidence, she was sure of that. Delilah may very well have some of the answers I seek. Who was my mother, where she was from? Answers to questions she'd been pondering for her entire life was suddenly opening their doors. And Marie feared what she'd find. Curiosity killed the cat.
Sleep eluded Marie for most of the night. Every question she could think of multiplied into hundreds of new, all of them screaming for answers like starved dogs. Who is Delilah to me? An aunt perhaps? Distant cousin? In-law of some kind? Do I have a family somewhere beyond DC? Am I ready to find out?
One thing was clear however; there would be more questions before she found her answers. And they were in the north…
…
The Lone Wanderer's memoirs
The Pitt:
"The Pitt was without a doubt one of the worst places I've ever seen. I thought I had a clear goal in mind when I got there; find the cure and free the slaves. Simple and clean, no moral dilemma. Slavery and murder is unforgivable after all."
"I felt more than sure about my actions in the beginning. The Pitt raiders were just as ruthless and cruel as the ones in the Capital Wasteland. I saw people be worked to their deaths and then be discarded like broken tools when they weren't useful any longer."
"Ishmael Ashur may have been a man with a vision, and I can't blame him for that. I can however blame him for his actions. The Pitt was a deathtrap and he is the one to blame for the thousands of slaves that succumbed to a fate worse than death while he and his goons watched from a safe distance."
"I was felt sure about my convictions when I entered Haven to finally meet Ashur in person. It was there that my resolve began to crack; Ashur didn't strike me as the regular power hungry megalomaniac in the wasteland. He was a man with a plan and he wanted to free the slaves when it came into fruition."
"But his 'soldiers' restored some of my resolve when I overheard one of them talk about the slaves. I then realized that Ashur's ambitions were naïve; He had created a slave-state that would never be able stand on its feet without the slaves; even if he found a way to cure the city's populace from the mutations."
"The cure was the one thing that destroyed my resolve completely. I mean, who in their right mind can justify kidnapping a child from her parents? I had always followed a straight moral compass, one without shades of gray. Marie was my greatest dilemma."
"But then the slaves began their uprising, I didn't have time to think for long. I still wonder today if I made the right choice when I took Marie out of her crib and activated my stealth boy and made a run for it. I remember the mad rush through the war torn streets, bullets ricocheting against the ruins, explosions tearing slaves and masters to bits, the screams of the dying howling in my ears."
"I delivered 'the Cure' to Wernher and then finished the Pitt raiders once and for all; I unleashed the mutants of the city onto their safe Haven and watched Ashur's army be torn apart by the very people they had reduced to disposable tools. I finished Ashur and Sandra myself, as an act of kindness I suppose."
"My doubts from that day still remain. I orphaned a child girl, an innocent girl who hadn't done anything wrong. I've tried to make amends; I adopted the girl when me and Sarah had settled down a bit and began to grow a family of our own. I've been honest with her since the beginning, but I wonder if that's been enough…"
…
Done for now. Sorry for the poor English and slow pace. I haven't written for a while now, and English isn't my first language.
Please feel free to leave a review; that will help me improve this story and my other future works as well.
I hope you have a great week!
See you in the next chapter.
