3: Right Through the Walls
Had Isabel been less of a sensation with Rivet City, he might have forgotten her. As it was, there was something about the girl that he couldn't quite shake from his mind. There were plenty of strange folk passing through Rivet City, but she was a different kind of strange. Maybe it was because she'd been fresh out of a Vault. As he made his rounds, he heard little snippets here and there of people who somehow knew that she'd briefly visited the ship. Doctor Li looked significantly more troubled and preoccupied than usual when Harkness paid the lab a visit, which made him wonder how the girl knew of the doctor. He asked her, and the only response he got was "It's personal." It was very strange.
She knew Madison, somehow. But he couldn't make the connection.
In the Weatherly Hotel, Vera was bragging (for lack of a better word) about having met Isabel. "She's strange," she proclaimed to all who would listen, "but very sweet. If there's one thing the Vault taught her, it was manners. She thanked me kindly for her time and left. Didn't drop me a single cap, though."
Immediately the chatter rose up around him. "The girl from Vault 101? Oh my—what did she look like?"
Harkness cringed a little when he heard that. It was a bit of an odd, petty question to ask, but Vera immediately launched into a detailed description of what the girl looked like. "Her hands were like a slave's," she remarked with some sympathy. "She asked me for some clean bandages, poor girl. I would've charged her any other night, but she was just too sweet to turn down."
He had to raise his eyebrows at that one. As sweet as she seemed, Vera typically didn't miss an opportunity to turn a profit, but maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought. She was full of surprises, it seemed. Tired of the banter, Harkness left the room without waiting for his coffee. It wasn't like he needed it, anyway.
More out of routine than anything, he made his way down to the science lab again. He was about to turn a corner to greet Dr. Li when he heard voices, hushed and anxious, talking about Rivet City's latest visitor. He stopped, hoping that he hadn't been noticed.
"You told her what?" That was Janice, more worried and angry than he'd ever seen her. "She went to the Memorial? By herself?"
"What was I supposed to tell her?" demanded Madison. "She wanted to know where James had gone, so I gave her the best lead I could."
"You shouldn't have sent her running off by herself to the Memorial! What if James comes back? What will he say if his daughter winds up dead?"
"I know," she said worriedly. "But there's nothing we can do now."
They abruptly fell silent. Harkness was sure that they'd realized he was there, but they said nothing. After a moment, he quietly left and headed to the flight deck.
Had Isabel been less of a sensation with Rivet City, he might have forgotten her. As it was, he stood on the flight deck now, looking out in the direction of Vault 101. What secrets were there? What was he missing? He then thought of Megaton. What stories might the people there have of this person? He couldn't stop himself from asking the questions. He felt that somehow, her fate had been inevitably welded to his from the moment they'd first met. Perhaps it'd been the eyes, maybe it had been the simple fact that he'd chosen to be curious. But there was no going back now.
Below him, he heard shouts. There was a commotion going on down on the bridge. Suddenly alert, Harkness leaned over the edge of the flight deck, alarmed. Fear and dread rose in his chest as he contemplated the worst. There were three figures on the opposite end of the bridge supporting a limp fourth figure. From his vantage point, he could see blood. Below him, he could hear Sievers, the bridge guard, screaming for someone to find Doctor Preston. Suddenly fully seized in reality, he ran down the stairs to see what was going on.
The Vault girl had left Rivet City with a backpack, a battered rifle, and injured hands. She returned with no backpack, no rifle, and a frightening degree of injury.
Harkness had never seen anyone so riddled with bullets and still breathing, but she was full of surprises. Her sad excuse for armor was shot to hell, the ceramic plating under the flimsy blue fabric shattered and riddled with lead. He had to guess that it was the armor that'd saved her life. She hadn't made it back by herself—one of the merchants had found her near the Jefferson Memorial, bleeding to death. They probably would have left her, too, if it weren't for the jumpsuit. As it was, Harkness looked on with a stony expression as they took her to the infirmary. For some reason, he felt the need to keep an eye on her, so he did. Preston didn't argue.
She screamed a little at first, her head thrashing from side to side as the doctor spilled Scotch over her wounds before proceeding to operate. She looked so pathetic on the operating table that he almost felt sorry for her, but then he remembered that look she'd given him. Instead, he just watched and wondered how she'd managed to get into such a predicament. Doctor Preston called him over to hold her head, and he did. Forced to look her in the eye the entire time. Her eyes were glassy and vacant from the effects of Med-x, but she was still in pain. The bullets had hit her mostly in the shoulder and torso; they'd miraculously missed her head and vital organs. Harkness quietly counted the bullets in the tray. By the way she was screaming, he'd thought her to be riddled with lead, but he only saw three. She'll live, he thought.
He didn't know why he stayed when it was all over. In retrospect, he wondered if he'd intended to question or kill her. The doctor had sedated her completely somewhere during the process of stopping the bleeding and taking out bullets, something of which Harkness was grateful. He wasn't comfortable with the way she looked at him. Instead, he watched her sleep, wondering.
She knew Madison, somehow, but he couldn't make the connection. Clearly, by the way the scientists had been talking, they were somehow familiar with the father. They'd both passed by here, but if Vaults were truly as secure as the Wasteland believed, they'd been in that bunker for their entire lives. How she could have known someone on the outside was unfathomable. Harkness entertained for a moment that she was actually indeed from the Wastes, but he quickly dispelled that notion from his mind. None of it made sense. Unless...but Harkness shrugged off the possibility. Surely it was impossible.
He didn't know how long he sat there, watching her, but when he finally came to his senses, Preston had decided that he'd overstayed his welcome.
"I should keep an eye on her," he said quietly. "I don't think she'll be a security risk."
Harkness nodded slowly, getting up from his seat. His legs were stiff. "Let me know when she wakes up," he said, his voice a little hoarse from disuse. He didn't say why. He didn't quite know, himself. The doctor didn't ask.
"Will do, Chief," he said. "Take care."
Harkness nodded politely at the doctor and left the room.
He made his way to Gary's Galley for lunch. Rivet City was kind to him today; nobody was causing any trouble and the ship was relatively quiet. He was left in peace to entertain his thoughts. He almost didn't notice when he almost bumped into someone. He jumped a foot in the air and looked up, surprised and a little annoyed.
It was the merchant who'd brought in the vault girl. Harkness awkwardly cleared his throat, giving the man a polite nod. "What do you need?" he asked gruffly, almost on impulse.
"Oh, well -" The other man looked rather embarrassed. "I was wondering where you'd taken the girl we brought in. I managed to get her things." He held up a blue backpack and a broken Chinese rifle. Harkness regarded him suspiciously for a moment. Then he relented.
"She's in the infirmary right now," he said. "Here, I'll take them to her."
"Uh -" The merchant blinked. "Okay."
Harkness didn't respond. He turned on his heel and returned to the doctor's with her things.
Preston raised his eyebrows at him when he came in. "You're back," he remarked.
"I have her personal effects," he replied, holding them up. The doctor looked at the rifle with a bemused look on his face. He took the rifle from him and examined it, shaking his head in disbelief.
"No wonder she got in such a foxhole," he remarked. "You can't fight with a broken hunk of metal like that."
He shrugged. "Well, I guess some people find out the hard way," he said. For some reason, he had to fight back a smile. Preston merely shrugged.
"If you can, find her another weapon," he told him. "I've spent a lot of time on her. I'd hate for her to have to come back so soon because she didn't have a proper gun."
Harkness paused, surprised by the doctor's request. He blinked. "Okay, I'll keep an eye out," he replied finally.
"Thank you, Harkness," Preston said gratefully. Taking it as a cue that he was no longer needed, the security chief gave a polite nod, one last look at the girl on the bed, and left.