"Ho-ly hell," The quarry worker marveled. "You boys are all turned around." He singled out a spot on his map. "Cottonwood Cove is to the east..." he dragged his finger left - "... and you're all the way out here."

The dawning of the obvious took the wind out of Arcade's sails.

"Oh."

Tony squinted and shielded his face. "You got a place to nap? We been walkin' since morning."

"All we got's the molerat bed." The worker stood his ground. "And you'll be payin'..." his eyebrows migrated north - "... restitution."

A rodent snort came from under the table. No room, Arcade deduced, at this inn.

They walked the rails and the hills through the worst of the afternoon heat. The bark scorpions chased their ankles and the doctor's sunburn itched.

Three times he brought it up. Three jokes he sat through about lily-white heads and hats.

At dusk they rounded a hill and came to a gated field. Tony scavenged a stone from the ground and tossed it against the links. When he deemed it safe they ventured inside, and came upon a valley of knolls.

Tony took a tenuous step into their midst.

"What is this place?"

Arcade made his way over the hillocks to the decorated face of a bunker. "Beats me."

"Makes two of us."

"It's got to be pre-War." The doctor ran his hand over the faded graffiti. "It's too solid."

"Pre-War or not..." Tony heaved the handle spokes - "... it's better than sleepin' outside."

Arcade started. "You're going in there?!"

"Doc!" Tony insisted. "I -"

The earth rumbled beneath them. A sudden wind whistled and bit. For once Arcade looked to Tony for knowledge, blinking big from behind his glasses.

Up from behind the rocks the sky blotted out.

"Dust!" Tony shouted, letting go of the handle. "It's dust!"

The spokes spun and the door lifted. Tony herded his companion in and pulled the barrier shut behind them, just as it flailed the door and scattered at their feet.

"You don't think somebody's hidin' a... vault in here, do you?"

"No." Arcade's boots clanked on the stairs. "No. Whatever would give you that impression?" His sarcasm ran tar-thick. "The concrete walls? The blast proof door?"

Tony refused to gratify him with a response.

"Of course some lunatic is down here!" The doctor ranted all the way through the antechamber. "And might I remind you..." He piled on - "that it was all your idea to do this, and if we get in hot water this was not a 'we' decision, and- "

Tony froze in place. The mechanisms on the door before them turned without provocation. When Arcade caught sight of the power armor his mind took off like a dervish, and between the scramble and the scuffle and the kicking of shoes he made out listen very closely and do as I say before the ceiling spun and the world went black.

"Took two of us," Arcade overheard, muffled.

"No bullshit."

"No bullshit," the first voice repeated. "Took two of us in power armor to get that boy to stop thrashing."

"You sure he's not half-brahmin?"

"Who knows with out there."

The doctor groaned and searched around himself with his hand. Grey fog... a spot of yellow... that shocked white. Ow, from the back of his skull.

"Glasses..." he heard himself say, swiping at the air - "... need my glasses."

"Hey, eyes forward." That same initial voice. "They're comin' around."

Arcade's hand hit cold frames beside him. He slipped them onto his nose and blinked to stop the room from spinning. An armored ceiling?

His eyes wandered left and caught Tony on the bed beside him. Sprawled out over the mattress, fingers grazing the floor. Whoever brought them here had stripped him to his shorts, and Arcade...

… Well, Arcade couldn't help but look.

A stroke of tragic timing roused the young man from his sleep. He groaned... he stretched. Arcade quickly minded his business and realized they'd given him the same treatment.

Oh.

"All right. They're up." Feet clanked as the voices approached. "Let's get a move on."

Arcade's head snapped up out of instinct.

"Get your clothes on and follow us!" The man's tone meant business. "We're here to escort you to the elder."

"Clothes?" Arcade's eyes raced between his knees and his companion. "This is..." He cleared his throat - "... awfully intimate..."

The second guard aimed his rifle.

"Get. Your clothes. On."

"Of all the bunkers, in all the deserts, in all the world, you land us in the one that reminds me of home."

"Quiet!" His guard ordered.

Tony shook his head in special understanding. "He doesn't..."

"You too!"

Tony clamped his mouth shut.

"I mean, really." Arcade's nerves continued spilling his thoughts. "The walls... the machinery, even the mood lights." He chuckled as they headed down the hall. "I'm five years old again."

The guards sighed. They rounded one more corner and took a narrow flight of stairs, Tony stooping to fit better on the way down.

As they entered the room at the end the door rose and locked behind them. Tony's blood ran cold.

"Elder!" Their other escort shouted across the room. "With permission..." his head gestured to the doctor - "... can I shoot this idiot?"

"No." The word resonated through the chamber. "I want to hear what he has to say."

Every step into the place felt like a forward march into a trap. The gears on the wall... the sealing of the door. The elder himself sat on a raised round landing, hair glowing and face shaded under a sterile blue light.

"Go on." The calm in his voice ran the lengths of their spines. "I'm waiting."

Tony sucked in a breath and took the first step up.

"Now." The elder folded his hands. "I expect an explanation of how you found us." His eyes turned up to them as they reached his desk. "And I expect it to be thorough."

"Found you?" Tony balked. "You found us!"

"We were hiding from a dust storm..." Arcade intervened. "... when you sprang your guards on us."

"Well." The elder's poker face refused to break as he studied his fingernails. "I won't pretend to understand what you're doing all the way out here." His gaze drifted back up. "But I think you'll agree we've reached an awkward impasse."

Tony withdrew. He felt out of place. Time to let the brains do the talking.

"Under different circumstances I'd just..." The elder swatted the air - "kill you. But. Desperate times..." he rose - "... call for desperate measures."

Arcade summoned his best funerary cheer. "Thanks."

"You see, there's an NCR Ranger up top." The elder paced over his half of the landing. "Squatting in one of my bunkers, and sniffing too close to my business." He pinched his eyes and clenched his teeth - then relaxed. "I can't imagine what he's looking for. But if you can root him out, and deal with him before he finds us..." he held a hand to his breast for emphasis - "... you can spare him the consequences of us finding him."

"Yeah, well, I say no deal!" Tony stepped forward and jabbed his finger at the elder's desk. "I don't whack nobody for hire."

"I didn't say..." the elder's fingers clasped over his palms - "... you had to kill him."

"And what if I still say no?"

The elder returned to his seat, leaned back, and smiled.

"Sometimes..." Arcade thought aloud, hoisting himself on top of the mound - "... I think of all the things I could be doing."

"Yeah." Tony ignored the dead scorpion in his path. "Me too."

"I could be reading." The doctor dusted off his hands and stuck them in his pockets. "Napping. Running errands for Julie." He sauntered behind his companion with the jaunt to match his sarcasm. "Having dangerous liaisons with banana yucca!" His pitch raised as the list went on. "But no. I'm reliving my childhood in..." he paused for word choice - "... ironic diametric - with a heavyweight half-mute and a bomb around my neck."

Tony reached for the handle of the next bunker. "'Least he gave you your gun back."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"I dunno." Tony shrugged. "'Least there's that."

"And, you know, to think," the doctor added, as they traipsed into their third. "Of all the places to find the Brotherhood, they're scrounging around out here."

"Wait." Tony squeezed through the claustrophobic entrance. "You know those guys?"

"Sure." Arcade waited for the door to close before he continued. "Well, not personally. But their reputation precedes them."

Tony followed, keeping an ear on him.

"They were huge in the area until a few years ago." Arcade watched his step. "Archivists. Pre-War fiends. For how much they love technology, it's... odd to find them holed up in a backwater like this." A shrug. "'Course, after what the NCR did to 'em at HELIOS One, I don't blame them."

"You know an awful lot about these nuts, don't you?"

"Me?" A rhetorical question. "No-o-o. Just what I -"

They emerged from the stairwell and met a revolver in their faces.

The elder drummed his fingers on the cold iron of his desk. The men's voices kept him company, scratchy and droning from the receiver on the wall.

And he sat.

And he listened.

And he waited.

After an hour and three quarters the voices began to echo. The door clattered open and there they stood, sweat-stained and peppered with dirt.

"Well," the elder noted, restoring his calm veneer. "I don't see any blood."

Tony brushed off his hands. "I said I wouldn't whack nobody."

"No." The elder folded his own in his lap. "You went to all that trouble and convinced him we're a nest of Powder Gangers." He relished his words. "Creative. I like it."

Arcade started. "How the hell did you know that?!"

"Didn't realize there was a wire in your- "

"Sir!" A third suit of power armor came rushing in between the guards. "We found this in the young man's belongings!"

"What?!" The elder shot up from his chair. "What is it? Why the frenzy?"

"It's Legion!" The suit held out the medallion. "Some kind of rank insignia."

The elder's eyes lowered to Tony as his face hardened.

"All right." A step back. "Who are you?" Another. "Who do you work for?"

"Wait!" Tony insisted. "Hear me out!"

"Why should I?"

The guards lifted their rifles. Tony's hands shot up. Arcade's blood pounded. Return the favor? Or not?

Against his better judgment...

"Gentlemen... gentlemen." He raised his hands. "Let's... not... be so hasty."

Their attention diverted. Hands came off triggers and holsters.

"He's not what you want." Arcade reached behind himself, pulled his gun out of his waistband, and set it down under the light. "This is."

The elder's demeanor turned on a dime. He sank back into his chair and picked the pistol up like a totem.

"What's a country doctor doing with an Enclave gun?"

"A gift." Arcade kept his timbre and his words vague. "And it's my gift to you - if you let this young man go."

The elder narrowed his eyes and appraised his potential winnings.

"As it stands, that cloak pin belongs to someone he's hunting." Another careful word choice. "But if you take me up on my offer, the truth is, well." He smirked. "Incidental."

"What'd you go and do that for?" Tony asked, as they made their way out the gate. "You can't last out here with that knife."

"It'd been breaking down for months." Arcade shrugged it off. "Besides. I was sick of him holding court."