Chapter 1:The stage is set
You could say I've led an unusual life. Normally, this story would start when I was born, but that's not the case.
I was made.
I don't remember much from before I was 15. I assume this was when I was created by father. You could say I was a bit of an experiment, one that was not expected to work what so ever. My first memory was laying limply on the cold steel floor, naked and weak, staring straight up. Father exclaimed something then, but I could not hear. He gave me some clothes to wear and carried me out of the lab where I was created, and took me to the dome. There, he explained to me that I was a product of gene splicing, a hybrid of human and canine DNA, intended to combine the best of both. The first of my kind, he told me with pride. I was far from being newborn in terms of intellect, In spite of my lack of memory I could be considered substantially smarter than the average person even then. This made father even more pleased. Why he made me I could not say, nor did I ever really ask-I just assumed that all would be revealed in due time. He raised me well out here in the big empty. He taught me how to be a doctor like him and build things and defend myself. He taught me right from wrong, good from bad.
That was 4 years ago. 2 Years since he's left.
One night, I was woken up by a racket coming from inside the think-tank. Father and I had converted the Immense lab into our own workshop, and it held a multitude of equipment, firearms, and random projects we would tinker with from time to time. I walked down the hall towards it and opened the electronic doors. Father was standing in front of a table, upon which was a fair variety of guns he was cleaning and loading. Instead of his usual lab coat, he was wearing his old ranger armor. He noticed me walk in.
"Sorry to wake you at such a late hour."
He apologized, as he polished the cylinder of a 45-70 Hunting revolver.
"What are you doing down here?"
I asked, noticing the assortment of weaponry. Father would often prepare like this before leaving to tend to the outside world. He would sometimes be gone for weeks, but he said that he was helping people, assisting the republic and its efforts to rebuild, so I didn't mind.
"I'm just stocking up, I was planning on heading out in the morning. Matters have come up in the Mojave that require my attention."
He explained, shoving the gun into his hip holster. He began inspecting the barrel of an AMR. With a sigh, he said;
"I might be gone for a long time."
I was dismayed. But then, an Idea popped into my head.
"Why can't I just come with you?"
I asked. He put the rifle down and walked over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Seraph, but the world isn't ready for you yet. A lot of people still fear technology and science, and blame it for societies downfall. I fear people would try to hurt you."
I pushed his hands off of me and glared at him.
"So? I can hold my own. I can shoot. I can wield a sword. There has to be some armor I could wear somewhere in here…"
I argued, But father remained steadfast.
"Like I said, I'm sorry. But you help people even without leaving. Like when you designed that prototype for a more efficient solar panel."
He said, and this brought a confused look to my face, before it dawned on me.
"You…actually used those schematics?"
I asked. Father nodded.
"Yep. I brought them back to shady sands for some of the brass to OK, and soon I had replaced all the old solar arrays at the Helios one plant and Nellis. Because of you, we have enough power to keep New Vegas going without any brown-outs."
As my father related to me what had happened, I was speechless. Something I designed did all that?
"Now I know you want to go fight the good fight like I always do, but it's just not your time yet. Trust me, the day will come."
One thing about my father, he had the kindest eyes. The rest of his face was a scarred, gaunt mess, but his eyes shone with a light that seemed so innocent and full of compassion-It was hard to believe this was the man who had slain the Legate Lanius. I hugged him tightly, and he returned the favor.
"I love you, Dad."
I wouldn't see him again for a very, very long time.
Fast forward 2 years. I'm still waiting, every single day, for him to return. On the particular day when everything began to change, I had woken up early, decided to go for a hike before the sun rose up to high in the sky and scorched the whole damn place. I was washing my face, and the sink was commenting the whole time, commending my cleanly behavior. I looked in the mirror a bit. I looked like an average 20 year old, I guess, save for my fox ears and the tail, Plus my eyes had the oddest tendency to shine in the dark, and my fingertips ended in small, sharp claws. My auburn hair reached down to my shoulders, and I looked down to inspect myself-Still just a tad chubby. What can I say? Foods always in ample supply here, and I'll sometimes go weeks without moving out of the workshop when I get really going on an idea. The sink reminded me of the importance of good hygiene and the seed incubator made a barely concealed comment on my figure. Somewhere, Muggy began screaming in frustration. I bid them all goodbye, Slung a hunting rifle over my shoulder out of habit, and approached the steel doors that lead down into the outside world.
The sun had yet to crest the massive, imposing mountain walls that surrounded me on all sides, and the stars still lit up the skies. At times, I would sit down on the side of the path and look up at the constellations, trying to identify them. I wasn't too good at it, but I could always find ursa-major. My father used to be able to find them all. That was one of those odd things about him, he was a very superstitious man. He claimed that the stars told him where to go, and he said he could hear the Mojave sing to him when he would walk through its barren expanses at night. Real weird shit, coming from a scientist. The sun was starting to show its face towards the east, and I decided a brisk climb was exactly what I needed. I picked the nearest cliff and got to it. Even though I was a bit hefty for my size, I had learned to wield it with ease, and made it up the cliff in no time. The stars were starting to dissipate, and the break of dawn illuminated the Big MT almost instantly. I could see the various labs that were scattered about the complex, and the hexcrete spires that thrust themselves into the sky, and the glowing red crystals that marked professorMobius's laboratory. Then I noticed that damn cave. I had never seen it before, and my curiosity got the best of me, like it almost always does.
I stood at the mouth of the cave, rifle in hand. Me and father had cleaned the whole Big MT out years ago, but you never really know here. One time, I disturbed a nest of cazadors checking out a cavern much like this. That was not very enjoyable at all. I took a few tentative steps, and flicked my pip-boy light on. The cave certainly went down a little deeper, and so I walked, ever so cautious, down its rocky hall. At the end, I found what seemed to be a fully equipped safe house. There was a few shelves, a few sandbag barricades, a mattress, a reloading bench, and an awful lot of books, most of which were in great condition. After making sure no one had been in here a long time, I set about stuffing the books into my backpack. Behind them was a strange marking that had been painted on the cave wall. It took me a second, but I recognized it as the U.S flag. Quite a perplexing symbol, and I found myself wondering about who had set up this camp. Certainly not my father, he had the Sink, and no lobotomite would be intelligent enough to keep books in such pristine shape (No burns or mold-I flipped the fuck out) My father said that only he and these other two people, Christine and Elijah, were the only ones who had every seen the big MT since after the war. Then I spied the box full of holotapes. I picked it up and looked inside. Each one was numbered in sequence, but no date. The mystery was too much. I carried the box of tapes with me back to the sink, and quickly shut myself in my bedroom to listen to the holotapes.
It was then that it all changed.
The holotapes were made by a man who referred to himself as Ulysses. He talked in a deep, baritone voice that demanded ones attention. The recordings would differ from one another considerably. Sometimes they would be journal entries, sometimes they would be philosophical rants. A few were recordings of his conversations with some of the people Father had mentioned. But it was the last one, that truly began my quest. It was Ulysses talking to himself again. He said he needed to remind himself why he was doing this, whatever "This" was. Then he….I…
*There is silence for about half a minute, then the recording resumes*
He told himself what father had done. How he destroyed an entire fledgling nation. How he launched the nukes. It made no sense-It was like the anti-thesis of the courier I knew. I had to know more about this Ulysses person, but who was I to ask? Father was nowhere to be found, The robots in the sink don't know anything, and the members of the think-tank…well, there long gone. I guess that only leaves one person in the whole Big MT that can answer my questions. I don't care about the damn heat, I'm going as soon as I get done with this log.
I'm going to go speak with the esteemed doctor Mobius.
And then I'm leaving this place. I'm going to find father.
*Subject pauses again*
And I'm going to find some answers.
*End of pip-boy log #31:09:13, 03/17/83, subject: Seraphim Eldritch.*