I, Synth

Sit up

Those were the first words pumped into my mind, a command that I did not understand but followed anyway. The first words I learned the meaning of, 'sit' and 'up' as the body I did not know rose out of the pool and I took my first look at a world I did not comprehend.

Approach the terminal

More incomprehensible words, but again the body that I was slowly beginning to realize was mine turned and stepped out of the pool. Of course I know what all the equipment around me was now that I look back on it, but you must understand that at the time nothing had context or meaning. It was for a short time, but for the first few minutes of my consciousness I had no more awareness of the world than a human born infant.

Begin upload

The terminal remedied that. The lights glistened across my eyes, downloading all the knowledge it was thought I would need in a matter of minutes.

When I stepped away I knew that my purpose was to serve the humans of the Institute, names, faces, scrolled across the inside of my mind.

Did I look like one of those? The program identified me as female.

In any way that they ask of you

I knew my designation,

N7-48

I knew that I was synth.

"N7-48."

I immediately put down my spanner and stood, ducking my head slightly. "Yes, Doctor."

"What are your current orders?"

"I am replacing the power couplings in this wall unit, Doctor."

I thought it was obvious what I was doing and was a little confused that he had asked. The Doctor did not seem to be paying much attention to my answer, glancing around to see if there were anyone nearby. I posited to myself that it was a human thing to ask a question that one did not care was answered.

I fought to keep my hand at my side. For some reason when one of the humans of the Institute spoke to me it wished to rise and brush at the hair around my face. I only allowed it the first time, when I was unaware of the consequences of exhibiting what the advanced robotics division later termed a 'harmless approximation of a nervous tic'.

I suppose I was nervous, though I couldn't exactly say why. Perhaps it was the fact that I had been given a specific timeframe in which to complete this task and I was now edging towards being behind schedule. Or it was perhaps because the doctor himself looked nervous. It worried me that I could tell that, for I was not as good at reading facial cues as many of the others. For me to read his expression meant it was writ large and in bold letters.

I held in my questions, waiting for him to speak and was surprised when he took my arm in a punishing grip and moved me away from the open wall panel to a more shadowed corner. I wanted to protest both the grip and leaving the exposed wiring, but the look in his eye stopped me. Suddenly I felt something unfamiliar, which I know now was my first taste of fear.

"Doctor, if I have committed some transgression, please…" I tried not to stammer.

He cut me off with a sharp wave of his free hand. "I need you to listen, and listen well. You are being reassigned. Your dedication has paid off despite a few…hiccups in your programming." His voice turned bitter. "As a matter of fact, those hiccups recommended you to this assignment in the first place."

"I will…perform my new tasks to the best of my abilities." I told him, trying not to shrink back.

"No doubt." He hissed.

Why was he so angry with me?

"You are to be sent to the surface, to infiltrate one of the settlements."

For the first time I was glad of the grip on my arm, for my knees felt on the verge of collapse. My gratitude evaporated when his grip tightened and my hand felt numb.

"You will remember that your first loyalty is to the Institute while you are there. Your first and only loyalty. Is that clear?"

"Of course, Doctor." What was he getting at?

"No matter what you hear, you belong to the Institute." He shook me once. "Do I make myself clear?" He asked again.

"Yes, Doctor." His grip was actively hurting me, and I fought back the moisture that tried to well in my eyes.

"Good." He finally released me, and I nearly gasped at the sudden cessation of pressure. "Don't forget that we always know how to find you." He turned and walked away, his threat lingering in the air behind his black clad shoulders as though invisible Coursers trailed in his wake.

I stood there, shaking, bewildered, trying to find the strength to go back to my assigned task. I needed to finish it or I would be disciplined. But if I were to be reassigned, would it matter? Yes, I decided, this was a last test, to decide my loyalty and reliability. But still I could not will myself to move.

"Are you well, N7-48?"

My head turned slowly to find another synth looking at me curiously. "I am performing within standard specifications, Z1-14." I replied, straightening. Was it my imagination, or did he look disappointed at my reply? But he merely nodded and shifted his grip on the rake he was carrying. As he passed me he spoke quietly, so low that I almost didn't hear him.

"If you have need, look for the lanterns. They will guide you."

"Z1?" I asked, my voice hushed as his, as though somehow I knew that those were dangerous words to be spoken in these halls.

He glanced at me, his expression for the briefest of moments, concerned, then the blank mask dropped back into place and he turned, walking as though he had never spoken at all. After a moment I decided that was my best course of action as well, and moved back to the panel I had left exposed, picking up my spanner and getting back to work as though nothing odd had happened at all.

Down time was not normally so difficult. My days, the days of nearly all synths who worked in the Institute, followed a certain routine, one that was rarely if ever deviated from. Report to the terminal or whatever department you were assigned to for your daily tasks, accomplish those tasks in the time allotted. Return for more tasks or for dismissal to down time.

We were told it was not sleep, at least not sleep as the human born experienced. We merely shut down for four hours, after which we resumed operation. There were beds, because it unnerved the human born scientists to walk in and find us standing around, as one of them had put it 'still as stuffed and mounted corpses'. So at the designated times, those on the down time shift would enter, lay down and shut their eyes, willing themselves into the darkness.

I was told that at one time down time did not exist, but the scientists found that we wore down more quickly if worked at all hours of the day with no rest periods. So through extensive testing they determined that four hours was the minimum of down time required to keep us at peak performance. I cannot determine if there was a difference, but some of the older synths assured those of the newer generation that it would not be in our interests to skip even one. So I lay there, looking at the darkness behind my eyelids, my cheek pillowed on my hands, waiting for down time to take me.

It took longer than anticipated, but after an interminable time the colors began to flow and form pictures in my head. I did not dare to ask any of the others if they experienced something similar, but from the almost guilty looks some had upon emerging I could only imagine that they did.

I was standing in the dark, on a black reflective plane that stretched out into the distance. I could see myself dimly, distorted, stretching away as though that other me were trying to escape. I took a step forward and my reflection flickered into someone I hardly recognized as myself. She wore a cap on her messy brown hair, and a long coat of some organic based material. There were smudges on her face and dirt under her fingernails. But none of that was what made her unrecognizable,

She/I was smiling. It wasn't a forced smile, or a polite smile, but a broad, slightly mischievous grin that made her hazel eyes crinkle with suppressed mirth. I tried to copy the expression, unused muscles stretching and protesting. She shook her head at me in mock disappointment, then pointed somewhere over my shoulder. I whirled.

In the distance a tall monolith stood, like a beckoning white finger. At the top was a glow. Without thinking I ran towards it. She ran with me, getting farther and farther away, closer in the reflection than I was physically. I could see the light more clearly now, a warm glow promising comfort and safety.

I passed Z1-14, "Look for the lantern," He murmured before disappearing into the darkness,

"Wait." I gasped. But he was gone so I kept running. In front of me my reflection had stopped facing the other direction, but she wasn't my reflection anymore, she was a part of me, and I needed to reach her, to merge, to become whole. I ran straight into her, and we became one. I looked down at what I was holding in my hands, what she had concealed.

It was a lantern.

I laughed as I had never laughed before as the glow of joy enveloped me.

My eyes snapped open.

I was surrounded by the sterile white wall of the Institute. I looked down at my hands, they were clean. The lingering joy slowly evaporated as I sat up and climbed off my mattress. Across from me another synth looked at me with haunted eyes.

"Are you well, H9-16?" I asked.

"I…am functioning within acceptable parameters." He replied, his voice subdued.

An odd feeling of concern swept over me. For some reason I wanted to inquire further, or even reach out and touch his hand or his arm in a gesture of reassurance I had seen some of the human born use on each other. But all I could do was nod and accept his answer. I left him there, his head sunk down on his shoulders as though he were trying to curl in upon himself protectively.

The halls of the Institute felt as they always did, clean and sterile. No one talked other than in hushed voices, as though any loud exclamation would break the careful serenity of the rushing water and quiet footsteps. I approached my assignment terminal and entered my designation. A moment later the message appeared, "N7-48 will report to Advanced Systems." My heart began to beat faster, an unanticipated change in routine. Was my reassignment to happen today?

I made my way to Advanced Systems, the walk taking long enough that I was able to calm my beating heart and take on an air of unconcern when the doors slid apart to admit me. A scientist looked up from his station when I entered and paused, looking around.

"Ah, N7-48, very prompt." He exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "Follow me," he bustled off into a side corridor to a door that unlocked when he entered a code on the terminal outside. High security section, I surmised. I stepped inside after him, my heart beating faster again when I saw that the room contained only a terminal and a pod-like chair. "Sit down and we'll get started."

I dutifully sat.

"I should let you know that you are being upgraded." He told me, waiting only a moment as though for a response then continuing on before I could form something appropriate. "I had recommended you for the Coursers, but given a few troubles we've had with female Coursers in the past…" He continued, shaking his head, "I'm afraid only male synths are being admitted into the program. So much for equality between the sexes!" He laughed.

I stared at him, but fortunately it seemed as though he was not going to require any responses so I just listened, staring up at the hood hovering over my head and trying not to be nervous.

"But no, you are being upgraded into an infiltration unit. A bit of a prototype, really, I came up with the programming myself, so make sure you make me proud." He looked at me inquiringly. Oh, he wanted me to respond this time.

"I will not let you down, Doctor." I did not know then that it was the first of many lies I would have to utter.

"See that you don't." He nodded. "Generally we use replacements, you know, taking one, substituting another, ready made life and past. But that can come with its share of headaches, let me tell you!" He shook his head. "Better to start fresh." He typed a few commands on his terminal. "There's a new force up there, people are starting to settle, lots of strangers coming together. We're going to take advantage of that."

"I am to…settle?"

He grinned, pleased with himself. "Oh yes, N7-48, you are going to settle and observe. You'll receive your orders in the course of the upgrade. More effective than me telling you myself."

'Oh, but you are itching to tell me yourself, since you like the sound of your own voice so much.' I thought sourly, surprising myself.

"Now, this procedure is going to work something like an overlay. You will still know who you really are, where you came from and what your orders are, with certain stipulations, of course, but in addition to that you will have the memories of a Commonwealth, " His mouth twisted as he said the name, as though he'd eaten a bad batch of synthesized food at the commissary, "woman. You will retain the skills you learned here in order to ingratiate yourself with the natives and the mannerisms to fit yourself seamlessly into their primitive society"

He tapped another button and I tried not to tense as the lid on the pod descended and sealed with a hiss.

It didn't provide me with a name. Why? Was it an oversight? A glitch in the experimental programming?

I stood next to the Courser who had brought me to the surface. I was shaking a little but the Courser didn't seem to notice, so maybe I hid it well. Or it could be equally possible that he was categorizing everything behind his opaque glasses, and came to the conclusion that it wasn't worth his while to comment on my unease.

Why couldn't I remember how we had gotten here? Perhaps it was a part of those stipulations the scientist had mentioned. The last thing I remembered was the lid of the pod closing in on me, and the next moment, it seemed, I was here. The Institute seemed only like a hazy, half-remembered daydream. I hefted the pack that had lain at my feet to my shoulder, shrugging a few times to settle it over my back. There wasn't much weight to it and I would need to go through the contents later, to make sure I knew what was in there.

The Courser vanished by the time I was done.

"No parting words?" I asked the space he had occupied. Well, that was different. I would never have addressed empty space before. I wondered just what exactly that scientist had put into my head as I smoothed down the front of my leather coat and adjusted the scarf wound around my throat. A weapon hung at my side and I was surprised by the knowledge that I knew how to use it. The memory of having used it before rose unexpectedly and I shuddered as I made my way cautiously to what looked like an old road. The grass slid under my feet as I walked, placing each step carefully, my eyes scanning the surroundings for potential hazards, mole rats, maybe, or feral dogs. I was hoping for nothing bigger than that if I encountered anything at all. Oh, I almost forgot about the giant bugs.

For a second I thought I was going to start hyperventilating, which was something that had never happened to me before. I glanced around before dashing to the left, taking refuge in a stand of trees and undergrowth. Concentrating on taking deep breaths I crouched there and took out my gun, checking to make sure it was loaded before returning it to its place on my hip.

I needed to get moving but instead found myself taking my pack off my back and rummaging through it. Extra ammunition, some purified water and a…tato? Further rummaging produced a handful of bottle caps and finally, shoved at the very bottom was a hat. I pulled it out and stared at it. It looked like a cross between a baseball cap and what was left of an old vomit colored towel. It looked nothing like the hat my down time self had been wearing and I dropped it to the ground in distaste. Then I stepped on it. It truly was that hideous.

For some reason that little act of rebellion fortified me and I found the strength to stand and place my pack again upon my shoulders. I made my cautious way down the road, trying not to jump at shadows and making my way to a place I only knew as Sanctuary.

It didn't take that long. I had been dropped off a few helpful and frightening miles away. I began to feel better about my chances when I passed a place called Red Rocket that was positively bustling with content looking people. Their homes, it appeared, had been built on top of the station, out of the way of any ground-based predators. Certainly the gun toting guards watched with warning eyes as I walked past their posts but they must not have deemed me too much of a threat because one of them even nodded at me as I passed. I tucked my hair behind my ears and ducked my head in acknowledgment, quickening my pace slightly.

The minuteman statue gave me pause as I passed, but his lofty attention was focused outwards into the Commonwealth, his first steps already having been taken, his weapon held at ready. The memories given to me chimed in with information about the Minutemen, sketchy on their past but a bit more comprehensive on their most recent history. They had been a civilian militia of sorts that had fallen to infighting, abandoning the people they had sworn to serve. Calls went unanswered, many died, whole towns swept off the broken map. They had fallen to a few in number and seemed destined to disappear completely.

But in the last year something had changed. The memory wasn't specific, but apparently a new leader had arisen, called together the few remaining Minutemen, cleared out their stronghold and had made a point of restoring the faith of the people of the Commonwealth in the organization. Nearly every population center had encountered the Minutemen, and nearly all of them had joined them with either troops or providing other resources. I had to wonder who this person was to inspire such faith in such a barbaric society.

Realizing I had been standing there scrutinizing the statue for far too long I turned on the heel of my scuffed boot and found myself standing at the end of a bridge that had fallen into some disrepair. Someone was approaching from the other direction and after eyeing the rotten looking planks I stayed put, allowing him to try his luck first. He and his brahmin made it across without incident, though he gave me a humorous look as he passed, as though this wasn't the first time he had met a new comer standing uncertainly on the edge. He grinned and tipped his hat at me and I found myself ducking my head and blushing.

"Not to worry, she's sound." He chuckled. "Welcome to Sanctuary, miss." He wore impressive and rather intimidating armor, a rifle slung easily across his back. For all his pleasant demeanor he seemed like a man who had traveled much, seen much and survived it all. He continued at an easy pace, his pack animal trotting along behind him. I watched him go then took a deep breath and took my first steps onto the bridge, which creaked, but not as alarmingly as I had feared.

As I made my way across the bridge I felt less than welcomed by the imposing gates at the base of the bridge and the impressive array of turrets chattering away. Guards on the wall watched me approach, weapons at the ready in case I were deemed a threat to security. I didn't see how I could be. One of those turrets shot missles! All I had was a pipe pistol and a tato. I made sure to keep my hands in view as I approached the gate, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. I had a lot of practice at it.

A moment passed and the gate swung open. As I walked through and the guards relaxed enough to stop pointing their weapons at me I noticed an odd piece of graffiti on an unobtrusive bit of plywood. It was a child's drawing of a house in a starburst. It seemed a little out of place but I dismissed it as I walked past and into the settlement. I had made it. I felt the tension drain out of me so fast that I thought I was going to faint, so the first steps I took into Sanctuary were wobbly ones.

"Whoa there," A hand gripped my elbow, steadying me. "You all right?"

I flinched away and the hand released its hold, leaving me to stumble against one of the pillars supporting the shield wall. I couldn't help it. The last time someone had touched me…well.

"Hamilton, get us some water over here." The man crouched in front of me, a careful distance away. "It's all right, you're safe now." His voice was low and reassuring.

I looked up into his face, warm dark skin and warm dark eyes shaded by a hat pinned up on one side. I liked the look of him, and the look of his hat.

He glanced up and away, "Thank you." He murmured as he accepted the water from another man with tawny red hair and a faded tan jacket. He turned back to me, offering the water.

I hesitated.

"Don't worry, you're not the first to stumble through the gates. Please, take it." It wasn't an order, it was an offer, and I shakily took the water, realizing suddenly that I was desperately thirsty. It was a strange sensation. I don't think I had ever been thirsty before. Perhaps it was something else they had tinkered with when they adjusted my memories. I drank deeply and suddenly felt much better. Before I could down the whole thing in desperate swallows the man put his hand on my wrist, stopping me.

"Slowly, you don't want to make yourself sick."

I nodded and sipped.

"Name's Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen." He introduced himself, and my memories corroborated his claims. I needed to make this man trust me, more, I found I wanted him to trust me, to make me welcome. I sipped again, trying to buy myself time to think.

"Ah, and you are?" He asked, a little awkwardly.

They hadn't given me a name.

I couldn't call myself N7-48, that wasn't the name of a human born. I searched my mind frantically for a name, any name. All of a sudden it came to me, "Annette." I said, "My name is Annette,"

There were few memories of my own that I could call fond of my time in the Institute. One of those few were of a child, the daughter of one of the scientists. She had lost her favorite doll and was crying inconsolably, asking everyone and anyone to find her beloved toy and bring it back to her. I had finished my duties earlier than scheduled and searched high and low until I found the toy in one of the planters, hiding behind a broad leafed bush. Perhaps one of the other human born children had hid it there as a joke. When I returned the doll the little girl was in raptures, she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, not caring that I was Synth, thanking me over and over for returning her doll.

"I love you, Annette," She had told the doll, hugging it to herself before running off to her quarters.

For a fleeting moment I had wished to be that doll, to be so loved.

And now, I could be Annette.

"Pleased to meet you, Annette." Preston said stoically.

My eyes filled, and I took another sip of water until I could get control of my burgeoning emotions. "I heard about this settlement on the radio. I was hoping…" I looked up at him. "Do you think you may have room for me? I'm used to hard work."

He smiled at me. "Always room for a few more hands." Preston stood, smoothing the length of his coat over his knees. "Think you can stand up now?" He thoughtfully didn't extend his hand to assist, no doubt remembering my reaction last time.

I nodded and stood. He took the water container from me and stepped back while I resettled my pack and straightened myself out. A few people glanced our way but Preston seemed so matter of fact about my inglorious arrival that I wasn't too embarrassed.

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to see the General. She likes to see that everyone gets settled in comfortably." He glanced back to make sure I was following then continued, approaching a house that was once a bright yellow, but was now a patchwork of colors and materials, no doubt covering the holes that time, weather, and scavengers had left in the walls. "We're lucky she's in residence right now, usually she's out roaming the Commonwealth putting out fires and…" He hesitated, "well, for other reasons."

I nervously tucked my hair behind my ears as he approached the solid-looking door and opened it, not bothering to knock. That told me he was familiar enough with this General to not feel the need to ask permission to speak with her. Or maybe everyone was just that informal. I didn't have enough information to come to any conclusions.

The home, when I took a moment to take stock of my surroundings, seemed cluttered, mismatched and oddly comfortable in a way the Institute never had been. Posters hung on the walls, coffee cups sat on the counter and there were a few books on the table by a well-used stuffed chair. All in all it should have seemed like a mess but it didn't, it just seemed lived in.

"General, you busy?" Preston called down a short hallway.

"Not dealing with anything that can't wait a bit." Was the answer that carried through the inexpertly patched walls. "I could actually use your input if you have a minute." I saw out of the corner of my eye that Preston seemed to stand a little taller, a pleased smile chasing across his face.

"Of course, General."

The owner of the voice walked out of a room at the far end of the hallway, fiddling with a device on her wrist. She glanced back. "Deacon, bring the maps, would you?"

"Sure thing, boss." Came a voice still inside the room as the General approached the main living space.

There was a definite air of difference about her, but I couldn't tell what it was. Maybe it was in the way she walked, or held her head, or the way her piercing blue eyes met mine from behind her wire rimmed glasses as she approached. She didn't seem surprised to see me there, and I got the feeling that this woman didn't miss much, if anything.

My heart started pounding in my chest. This woman would be my main obstacle. I needed this woman's trust if I was going to be successful in my mission.

"Well, hello there." She said politely, "Always nice to see a new face." She stuck out her hand and without thinking I took it. "Pleased to meet you, my name is Denali."

An unusual, almost musical name. I liked the way it sounded in my head. "I'm Annette." I stammered in return as she shook my hand. I could feel red rising in my cheeks as she scrutinized me.

"Well, Annette, welcome to Sanctuary Hills."

"Thank you for having me." I bit my lip, had that been the appropriate response?

But she nodded and released my hand, turning slightly to look back at the man who had just exited the room at the end of the hallway. "You got that, D?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I spent a few years in the Mojave as a member of a traveling circus? You should see me juggle chainsaws." The man replied, humor in his voice.

The look the woman gave him was fond, maybe, I realized when I noticed the warmth in her eyes, a little more than fond. "The Great Deaconi?" She took a few of the rolled up maps from the pile in his arms.

He grinned at her, "How did you guess?" He focused in on me and I had to fight to keep from taking a step back. It wasn't his face, that was pleasant enough, it was the dark glasses that hid his eyes. For a moment the fear gripped me before I realized that he couldn't be what my gut reaction told me. Unfortunately, he noticed. His eyebrows climbed up from behind the frames of his glasses but he didn't comment.

Denali tilted her head at me before nodding as though she had come to some sort of conclusion. "Annette, this is Deacon. Don't worry, he's mostly harmless."

"You wound me, boss."

"Nearly harmless?" She shot back, laughter in her voice though her expression was carefully neutral. She placed the rolled up maps on the counter, turning away for a moment.

The corners of Deacon's mouth twitched. I wished I could see the expression in his eyes.

Behind me Preston cleared his throat.

Denali turned back around to take some more papers from Deacon, addressing me as she did so. "I think you'll fit well with Valeria and Marie for sleeping arrangements. If you don't suit we'll rearrange things but I think you'll like them. Is there anything you want to do, or have a particular skill in? We have plenty of work to go around, but if you have any preferences?"

The question blindsided me. Never before had I been asked what I was good at, or what I would like to do.

"I…I'm good at fixing things?"

"Things like walls?" She perked up, glancing around.

"Well, I could do that, but I was thinking more of mechanical things." She had looked a little disheartened that I wasn't much of a carpenter but perked up again.

"A mechanic?"

"And electrical and…well, most things that have moving parts." I fidgeted, pushing my hair behind my ears before straightening it out again.

She looked thoughtful.

"Anything is fine, though." I continued, starting to feel a little frantic. "I can grow tatos, or patch walls or…do dishes, too."

She held up a hand. I stopped talking gratefully.

"Sturges did say he needed a few more hands." Preston inserted into the silence.

Denali nodded at him. "Yes, he did." She looked at me, her gaze razor sharp while still seeming compassionate. "Will you be comfortable working with a man?" Deacon looked at her sharply, then back to me.

What an odd question. I had…oh. The reaction to Deacon, perhaps she had even seen my reaction to Preston. Yet I had had no hesitation in taking her hand. It seemed she had come to the conclusion that I had been hurt, perhaps badly, by a man. She wasn't too far off, but I doubt that she thought it had stopped at a bruised wrist. I could use this to explain some of the odd behaviors I may accidentally display if I chose not to disabuse her of the notion that I feared men. Truthfully right now I feared everything, but what I feared the most were the shadows of Coursers at my back.

"I…think I can manage." I looked down.

"Sturges is one of the most professional men I know, you have nothing to fear from him." Denali said gently. "But if it doesn't work out, again, talk to me or to Preston and we'll reevaluate." She glanced out the window. "It's getting late, Preston, can you introduce Annette here to Valeria and Marie? They'll get you settled in." She told me. "Tomorrow will be soon enough to get you started."

"Come back here when you're done, Preston." She told the man behind me, "I have some concerns about the current provisioner's route between Greentop and Finch. She will insist on going right through Forged territory, even though I told her to go around, even if it takes longer."

"Sure thing, General." He replied, gesturing me towards the door. "I also need to talk to you about one of our settlements that's sent word."

I saw her flinch as I turned away. I wondered what that was all about as I walked to the door.

"Oh, hey, Annette?"

I turned back at the sound of Deacon's voice. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you had a Geiger counter."

I glanced from him back to Denali, who was watching me with close attention.

"No, should I…should I get one?"

He smiled at me disarmingly. "Only if you want to. Rest well."