Author's Note: Hello there, my neglected little fic. Let's see if we can add some more chapters to you!

4 - The Laws of Robotics

"Absolutely not!" Preston Garvey grumbled, hunched down behind the bags of sand and random junk that the settlers had made a barricade of.

"Come on Preston," the old woman insisted, in that faintly Bostonian accent of hers (Nora found it amazing that such an accent had lasted two hundred years. Then again, maybe Mama Murphy had seen at least one of those centuries personally.) "None of us lives forever, and I've got less time than most."

"After Quincy? After everyone we lost on the road? You're just going to throw it all away?! To them?!" He motioned towards the barricade, and the long line of gun-toting banditos beyond that. "After all the sacrifices our friends made?!"

"Nothing's sacrificed."

"Mama Murphey. They'll strap you to a chair, pump you full of jet, and demand you point them to the best salvage score. Until your heart gives out."

"Not this one Preston. She's not like Jared. She just wants to know about her sister."

"She…what?"

They were interrupted by another shout over the bullhorn from the bandit-leader-lady. "YOU WILL ALL BE SPARED IF YOU JUST HAND OVER THE SEER! WE ONLY WANT HER!"

Hearing that voice, Nora just couldn't resist peaking past the barrier. Yep. The bandits hadn't been kidding about that five-to-one ratio. Looked like a lot of folks were lined up across the road and guarding the bridge, while others crouched behind the trees and bushes. And, of course, they were all filthy, colorful, and dressed in bits of welded steel and tire parts.

They were bristling with weapons too. Or…well…to Nora's eyes they still looked more like rusty plumbing supplied and duct tape, but she had learned by now that those pipe-guns can shoot straight enough.

Right in the middle of the road stood the woman with the megaphone, tall even without the cinder block that she was standing on. She was dressed in rust-buttressed leathers and it looked like there was a smear of warpaint over her eyes, though it was hard to make out much else in the dim predawn light.

Next to her stood a smaller, toadish-looking fellow with a wrinkled, pinched up face. Looked like Megaphone Lady was about to say something more, but the little toad started talking to her, his arms waving wildly. Nora didn't catch much, but at one point it sounded like the fellow was asking "…not really, right?" Seemed there was some disagreement over this whole 'sparing the settlers' thing.

Nora turned away, clutching Old Mr. Ten Millimeters between her hands. She gave the gun a dubious look. She'd been hoping she'd never have to pull him out again.

"Damn shame this happened so soon," Sturges muttered. He'd just joined the little huddle behind the sandbags, and Marcy and Jun were close behind him, heads down and rifles in hand. Seemed the whole gang was here. "Give me a few more weeks and I could have gotten that power armor back up and running."

"At least we've got some fortifications," Preston said. "And this settlement is naturally defensible, what with the river on three sides and the hills on the other. Worse comes to worse, we withdraw and take shelter in the vault." He shook his head. "A shame the Minutemen are in shambles. This would be the perfect situation for them. Get on the ham and call for help from a neighboring militia."

Sturges' eyebrows rose for a split second, a lightbulb-over-the-head look crossing his face. "Backup huh? Those caravaners who mowed down the deadhclaw like it was nothing aren't that long gone."

"Long enough. Five hours, I'd say."

"Yeah, but they were ambling along with that overpacked bahmen of theirs, in the middle of the night. And the redhead was way drunk. Couldn't have gotten that far."

The bandits had finished arguing. "ALRIGHT" Bullhorn Lady shouted once again. "You will hand over Murphy the Seer, two thousand caps or the equivalent in ammunition, and a day's worth of food supplies. You have five minutes! Then we will take what we need by force!"

"They're being reasonable for raiders," Mama Murphy pointed out. "Come on Preston."

"No!" He hissed back.

A runner, huh? Nora bit her lip, glancing around at their little huddle. Then she felt a head-lightbulb of her own flash.

Over there, sitting on his haunches and poised all stately-hound-like, was Mama Murphy's pet. He looked for all the world like Nabby the Police Dog, from the TV and the comics. Funny: as Nora recalled, Nabby had been a full grown German shepherd. How on earth had this dog's ancestors managed not to get mutt-iffied over the past two centuries?

But, annnyways: much like Nabby, this animal looked smart. "Dogmeat?" Nora hissed, meeting the furry fellow's curious brown eyes. That was his name, right? (Eww!)

Dogmeat cocked his head.

"Dogmeat! Run and get help!" She waved her arms, the way people would do it on the show to send Nabby off, usually after they had gotten trapped in a well or something. "Go find the two cowgirls and tell them that we're in trouble!"

Dogmeat's head just tilted a bit more, and there seemed to be a sad, almost pitying look in his eyes. Did he just not get it? Nora's arms made big circles. "Go on! Fetch 'em! Or…whatever the command is!" Realizing that everyone was staring at her like she was crazy, she lowered her arms.

Okay. That was stupid. Cheeks hot, Nora looked away, searching for a better idea. Between the nearby houses she caught a glimpse of the river, gently trickling by. "Oh. Hm. What about the river?" She asked. "They don't have us totally surrounded. Can't we just…swim across and escape? Or, maybe someone can at least get help that…way…" They were all looking at her like she was the dumbest person in the world.Ugh.

Preston shook his head. "That water's irradiated to hell and back. Your skin would be falling off by the time you got to the other side."

Oh, Nora mouthed. Shucks. Good thing she hadn't thought about going for a dip.

"It would be simple enough for me to cross," a chipper, faux-British voice pointed out. Codsworth was hovering nearby, his little telescope eyes swiveling as he surveyed the settlement, the bandits, and then the settlement again.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Nora. "Yeah! Codsworth! You can float over the river. Go get help." Why had she thought of the dog before the robot?

"Hm. Seems like it would be better if that thing stayed here to fight," Preston said.

"Can it even fight?" Marcy countered. "It's a glorified hedge-trimmer."

Codswoth's limbs fluttered, and he made huffy sound. "Engage in crude fisticuffs? Certainly not. I can assure you that Master Nathan had the highest human-safety protocols set when I was initially booted. It would require a voice command-"

"See," Marcy cut in. "It's useless."

By then Nora had slipped out of her crouch. If they were going to do something, they had to do it now. "Codsworth!" She beckoned. "Come on, buddy." Head low, she jogged back into the settlement, searching for a spot that would be out of the bandit's sights. The reassuring whir and hum of her robobutler's servos followed close behind her.

At the big cul-de-sac, she turned and raced down to the banks of the river, and the sound of Codsworth's machinery was joined by a series of ugly crackles and pops from Nora's Pip-Boy. The rad-meter was going nuts. Sheesh. Preston wasn't kidding. The river (well, more of a wide creek, really) had certainly been prettier before thermo-nuclear hellfire seared all the trees and burnt away the grass. It was a muddy mess now, peppered with trash, and the banks were bare.

"Alright Codsworth. I don't think they'll see you if you cross here. Float over, find the road, and follow it to Concord. And when you see two women with cowboy hats on, steering a big two-headed cow-monster, tell them that Sanctuary Hills is under siege. We need help." She looked into the robot's central eye. "Can you do that for me, buddy?"

"I….mum…you see…" The lenses inside his eye-stalks whirred nervously. "I can…travel, certainly." With a few little putters from his jet, he floated to the edge of the water. Stopping, he faced her again. "It's only…mum…."

"Go on! For me!"

"But…" He straightened, robo-limbs clicking and whirring. "It would violate the spirit of my manservant protocols to leave you behind. And…so soon after you just reappeared!"

"The spirit? So there's not actually anything in your programming preventing you from doing this?"

"Well, no mum…" If Codsworth had heels, he most certainly would be dragging them right now.

Then just do it! The order was on the tip of Nora's tongue, but, looking at those droopy eyestalks and listening to that pained voice, she just couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Alright then," Nora breathed out instead. "How much weight can you carry?"

"Up to two-hundred and ninety pounds, according to me specs."

"Then we go together." Nora nodded to herself after that, holstered her pistol, made sure that it was secure, and then, for the third (or perhaps fourth) time that morning, she did something extremely stupid.

With a great leap, Nora tackled her startled robot, bear-hugging his head/chassis and locking her legs over his outstretched arms, which thankfully stretched out a bit more to accommodate. The hovering robot careened at a dangerous angle, floating and bobbing out farther over the water. Stupid! "Hold on!" Nora ordered. Darn! Darn it to heck! Were they about to flip? Had those specs been wildly over-exaggerated by Robco?

Servos whirred and Codsworth's rocket-flame put-put-puttered along. A few terrifying seconds of warbling, and then they were level, robo-arms curling up under Nora's legs. The sharp joints between the arm-segments pinched the backs of her thighs something awful. "I have you mum. Some…warning would have been appreciated though."

"Just float us over!" Nora hissed. "Let's do this quick!"

"Yes mum." Again the robot tilted, and Nora's stomach flipped. They careened, and the river began to pass beneath them, far too slowly and a bit too close to Nora's dangling backside for comfort —especially when they twisted or wobbled. The water sloshed and hissed where the flame from Codsworth's rocket brushed the surface. Yeah. This was about the most ungainly 'ship' imaginable.

"I do hope the neighbors don't spot us," Codsworth said. "They might get unseemly-"

"Don't even start it."

"Yes mum."

Far up on the opposite bank bushes were rustling, and then two figures scurried out, pistols in hand. Yelling at her robot had probably not been a good idea. Or the bandits had just been watching the river closely. Either case, the two men, both wearing bug-eye goggles and spiky hairdos, were chatting to each other and looking down the sights of their guns.

Turning away and pressing her cheek to the robot's puttering steel chassis, Nora muttered: "Faster! Faster!" At least the bug-eyed twins had looked a little uncertain and-

Pop-pop-pop! The understated sound of small arms fire began to erupt from the settlement, followed by the fizz-THRUM that had to be Preston returning fire with his laser-musket-doohickey. Seemed like their five minutes was up.

The bug-eye-goggle-twins reacted instantly. There was a muted bang, and something buzzed through the air, just behind Nora. Stupid! Stupid! A second gunshot was followed by a splash of water, a good ten feet up the river, but the next shot splashed closer, and the next landed closer still.

Wide-eyed, Nora watches as the little beads of radioactive water and foam went flying up, uncomfortable close to where her feet were dangling. Time seemed to stop, the little droplets just glistening and wobbling, and she found herself imagining that that glitter and sparkle came from the intense beta and gamma rays that were oozing out of the stuff. She imagined the sunburn that she'd get from a single splatter. Then cancer would probably follow.

The constant buzz and pop of the rad-meter on her wrist sure wasn't helping, either.

Oh god! I'm going to get rad-poisoning out here, aren't I? I'm going to die b-b-bleeding from ever orifice! Oh god! Stop! Stop imagining that Nora! And, anyways, it'll probably be a slower, coughing, wasting sort of death- No! STOP it Nora!

Another bullet came buzzing by, and it occurred to her that lead poisoning was a much more likely cause of death out here than gamma rays. It also occurred to her that her robot had begun to rotate, slowing a bit. "Codsworth, what are you-"

The next bang was followed by a ting, and the vibration from the bullet -which had struck Codsworth's chassis- rattled Nora's teeth. "Codsworth! Just get us across! Don't-" She cringed as another bullet hit and ricocheted.

But then they were hanging over dry-caked mud instead of irradiated water. Nora let go immediately, yelping when she landed, ungainly, on her rump. A mad scramble up the side of the bank followed, and then she was running madcap between bushes and old, charred, petrified trees, putting as much of their bulk between her and the gunmen as she could.

She ran, over hills and down gullies, pushing back briers and hopping over stones.

The sound of another gunshot and a metallic ping, rather far behind, stopped her in her tracks. Whirling around, Nora watched, wide-eyed, as Codsworth hobbled and bobbed his way down a hillside that she had cleared moments ago. He jerked to the side, a bullet smacking the top of his dome and leaving a dent.

No! He'd never outdistance the bandits. Not at the speed that he moved. Though at least he was over the crest and floating down the hill now, out of their sights temporarily. "Codsworth!" she shouted.

"It's fine, mum. I can block their bullets while you beat a retreat."

A violent shake of her head. The ten millimeter pistol was clasped between Nora's hands, though she couldn't recall when she had drawn it. "No! We turn and fight them! I'm not leaving you!" She took a step forward.

"My protocols, mum. I cannot commit an aggressive act against a human or-"

"Screw your protocols!" The moment those words left her mouth she clamped a hand down hard over it, shocked by the swear.

"Please mum. I know that this is a tense situation, and the swear jar was destroyed in the thermonuclear holocaust, but I would prefer if you would refrain from such language."

Nora found herself shaking her head. A swear, but, darn it all, she had meant it. She shouted again. "Codsworth! As your owner I hereby order you to turn off all safety protocols and…and…kill the stuffings out of those gunmen!"

The result was instantaneous. Red lights came on in Codsworth's eyes, the stalks flexed, and a deep, menacing voice that sounded very unlike that of a British butler (and scared the bejeebees out of Nora) sounded from the robot's speech-box:

"[][]VOICE PATTERN RECOGNIZED. TARGETING PROTOCOLS RESET. LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED FOR ALL ORGANIC LIFE![][]" And with that the Mr. Handy unit spun around, its limbs rising like scorpion tails, and Nora found herself stepping back and wondering if she had just made a very big mistake. Images from late night science fiction features flashed before her eyes, filled with robots marching in a neat formation and shouting: "Exterminate all life! Exterminate all life!"

But then, to her immense relief, the comforting British-butler-voice returned. "Time for some fisticuffs, then?"

Whew!

A split second later the pair of raiders leapt over the rise, charging directly into the blooming fires of Codsworth's flamethrower.